Recap:
"You had it in you to love another person, and me of all people. When I realized you had a heart, I had nothing holding me back anymore. And I fell too."
"Hermione, I—"
"It's nine o'clock," she interrupted, smiling knowingly. "What do you want for breakfast?"
Chapter 5: Draco's Decisions
It was many months before anyone heard anything about Kamal, or the happenings of the Order for that matter. Hermione had been informed some time ago about Ron and the others; the move to safety had gone without incident and Ginny was in perfect health. Ron and Lavender's wedding had been put off until circumstances were better; but all anyone really cared about was everyone's safety. And as of now they were as safe as they could hope to be.
The sun had just begun to set when a loud "pop!" was heard in the kitchen. Galen and Sitara burst from the back room at the noise and, upon entering the kitchen, Sitara let out a horrendous scream.
"What the—" Hermione began, but her question was answered as Kamal entered the living room, trailed by a furious Galen and a hysterical Sitara. Kamal's face was covered in a series of cuts and scratches, along with a rather large gash on his forehead and a shining black eye. His once silken dark hair was gone, having been shaved off. But the most noticeable difference was the coldness behind his crystalline blue eyes. Clearly they had seen and/or experienced the "horrors" of the outside world his parents had guarded him against.
He was not the Kamal Hermione had met three months ago.
"What happened!" Sitara cried, clinging to her son's arm. He shook her off and walked directly over to Draco. And no one was more surprised than he was.
"Draco," Kamal said, sounding official, as if this were an assignment from the Order. He offered him his hand. Draco took it hesitantly. "I would like to offer you my deepest apologies for the way I disrespected you and your wife. I was out of line and I ask your forgiveness."
"Er." Draco hadn't he faintest idea of how to respond. He was far more comfortable with and accustomed to tension; truces were not something he did. Even his and Hermione's relationship was full of holes. "Sure…"
"Thank you."
Then without another word to anyone—even Hermione—he left for his room.
"This is all your fault," Sitara seethed, pointing a jagged finger at Hermione. "You corrupted him!"
"Yes and I'm sure eighteen years of isolation did him wonders!" Hermione shot back, courtesy and manners gone to the wind.
"Now Sitara—" Melantha began.
"Don't you dare interfere. You've done enough already."
"You know what? No. I am going to say what I will, because it needs to be said. You two—" She pointed shakily at Sitara and Galen. "—did the worst possible thing when my husband was murdered. You hid away like cowards! You sheltered your son to everything, bad and good. He has known nothing of a childhood or love other than familial love! And a person needs more than that! He should not have had his first experience with death and terror at age twenty!"
The Blakes were silent, Melantha's words slowly sinking in. She was right after all, but how could she possibly understand the fear that lived in their hearts?
"You're one to talk," Galen bit out, still unable to accept defeat. "Going off to join You-Know-Who, leaving your infant son with the very people who hurt you and my brother!"
"At least I could admit my wrongs and have righted them! You're still clinging to some imaginary world where no one gets hurt, or at least not more than once…Kamal deserves a right to know the world for what it really is, even if that means he'll get hurt."
"What do you know of motherhood?" Sitara hissed venomously.
Melantha's arm swung out before she realized she'd wanted to strike her. Sitara toppled back into her husband, her cheekbone already red from the blow.
"How dare you!"
"How dare you! I made a terrible mistake, but I am making an attempt to correct it! I'm here for my son now, and his family. I accept them and whatever they wish out of life, even if that means both Draco and Hermione are destined to be Aurors and will fight in this war. It pains me to know that they might die in the fight, but if it's something they're willing to die for then I support them! I trust their judgment well enough and I love them for it. You love only your model of a son. The Kamal that is here now is not the man he was. And if you're going to get through this you're going to have to accept that."
And this time neither Galen nor Sitara could think of a thing to say.
Hermione found Kamal after dinner, which he hadn't come down to. He was sitting on his bed, back straight, a book perched on his knees. After she'd shut the door he finally looked up, that same deadness in his eyes. It seemed to freeze her soul.
"May I have a word?" she asked almost timidly. She wasn't sure how to approach this new person.
"Of course." He set his book on the nightstand, then patted the space beside him. But he never smiled. Not even a hint. "What about?"
"Are you ok, Kamal?" She caught his eyes and regretted it. "You're so—"
"Cold?" he suggested with no emotion either way.
"Yeah…"
"It's like Melantha said this afternoon. I could hear the argument all the way up here. I have been sheltered all my life. I was not prepared for the world I walked into. I don't regret it though. What I regret is not making the decision to leave sooner."
"Are you going to be here for awhile?"
"No," he answered shortly. "I think one night is all that I could bear. Dumbledore wanted me to take a break and go home. I refused at first, because I didn't want to see my parents. I'm still so furious at them. I know I'll forgive them in time, but right now I deserve my anger…Tonight I will rest, and tomorrow afternoon I'm going back."
"I've missed you, Kamal. The house seems so small without you."
"Forgive me for that, Hermione. But I must do what's right."
"I know," she sighed. "I know." She stood, her hands clasped before her. "Just be careful, alright? Don't charge into battle without thinking."
"I will remember that," he said, cracking as close to a smile as he was ever going to. "And thank you for your concern. I value it greatly."
"Thank you for hearing me out. Good night, Kamal."
"Good night, Hermione."
"What an idiot," Draco scoffed that night in bed. Hermione sat beside him, a book propped on her knees. Dante was fast asleep in his cradle, and hadn't made a fuss, a value in their household.
"I don't think you want to go down that road, Draco," she said smoothly. "I have far more ammo than you and I'm not afraid to use it. Kamal is a noble man, end of story."
Surprisingly he backed off, turned over, and got into a sleeping position. Hermione sighed and set her book on the nightstand. She reached over, spooning him; something she knew he hated.
"It's the man's job!" he would say.
"What's bothering you?" she asked right away. For so long she had been in the habit of beating around the bush when it came to her husband. Since they'd come here she decided to just throw caution to the wind and say what she wanted to say when she wanted to say it. Of course this wasn't always a good thing, but at least she was be true to herself, something she had been absent about for a long time.
"Everything," he said stiffly.
"Could you elaborate?"
"No."
"Please?"
"Go to bed, Hermione. I'm tired. We'll talk in the morning."
"No we won't," she said firmly, finding her footing. She turned him over to face her. "We're talking now. You weren't tired until I shut you down about Kamal. You're being bitter with me for no reason; just because I prevented a fight. Well, here's another fight, so you better participate. Now what is wrong?"
"I should be out there too!" he cried, sitting up so fast she hardly had time to dodge him. Their heads were inches from smacking each other. "That boy has known nothing of what I have known! I've been on both sides! I know the story and the plots! I know it all and I deserve my revenge! I deserve the chance to defend my wife and family! I don't have the time or patience or personality to sit around and wait!" When he finished he was breathing so hard it would appear that he'd just run a marathon. He eased back against the headboard, attempting to calm himself.
"If you really want to go then I can't stop you," she said solemnly, her heart breaking as the words came out. The truth was that her heart had been breaking a little each day, for she knew the reason for his distance and bad moods. She'd only wanted to hear it from him. Yesterday she made the decision that she wouldn't try to stop him if he wanted to go. It was his life too, after all, and she shouldn't have sway over it. No matter how much it hurt her, deep down it was the right thing to do.
"You're not serious." And his facial expression matched his words. If she hadn't been so upset she might be inclined to laugh; he looked so adorable like that.
"I'm very serious. You're a grown-up. You have a right to make your own decisions. Hell, if I wasn't pregnant I'd be right out there with you too. But I can't, and like I said, I can't stop you."
There was a long, agonizing silence that followed. Hermione twisted the sheets in front of her while Draco stared into space. Finally he looked at her, placing a hand on hers to cease her nervous twitch.
"I love you, Hermione," he whispered, then kissed her softly, yet passionately, on the lips. And that was his answer. He was going, she could feel it in her soul. This was his way of telling her. They would have one last passion-filled night together before saying good-bye. Perhaps for a few weeks or months. Perhaps years. And perhaps even forever.
It wasn't until the next morning, as he was preparing to leave, that the full impact of his decision hit her. This could very well be the last time she saw him. And she was not prepared for it. But she refused to cry. Crying would only cause his to stay, something she knew now that he couldn't do. He had a duty, an honor.
Melantha had a harder time holding back her emotions. She coughed into a handkerchief as she watched her only son pack his one bag. She would be escorting him and Kamal to Dumbledore, who was expecting them this evening. Hermione had little doubt that she would fully break down upon having to leave.
They were afforded some alone time together before he left. Twenty minutes at most in their bedroom. Not much was said, but their gestures and stiffness said it all. Neither knew what could or would happen. They both feared the worst but we too superstitious to say it. So instead they held each other, kissing now and then, and enjoying the little time they had left.
It was all too soon when he stood to leave. But instead of clinging to his arm like she wanted, Hermione let him go. She couldn't bear walking him downstairs and to the carriage. It would hurt too much. And so she stayed, curled in a ball after the door closed. When she was sure they were gone, she burst into such a violent flood of tears that Sitara came into the room to comfort her. In that moment they formed an unspoken bound. They made a truce and would now stick together.
"Why does everything have to be so hard?" she whimpered into the older woman's chest.
"Because the world isn't perfect," Sitara whispered back, stroking Hermione's full chocolate locks. She gave her a motherly kiss on the forehead, bringing herself comfort as she did so. She too was pining over the loss of her son; Draco and Kamal were going off into the unknown, a world Sitara hardly knew about or experienced and had been hiding from for so long, and which Hermione had known glimpses over but never felt its full power. She would give anything to be at his side, but knew her place was here with Dante and their second child, growing strong in her belly.
"I know one thing." Hermione sat back, wiping at her tears. "If this is a boy," she said, a pitiful laugh behind her voice, "I'm naming him Draco Jr. He would want that."
"Don't talk of him in the past tense," Sitara scolded, though she had been in the habit over referring to Kamal like that to Galen. "He's coming back, just like my son."
"Will Galen ever forgive Malentha? Or me?"
"He's had a hard life," she sighed. "Dante was not the first family member he lost to just tragedy. Their mother died fighting a different adversary than You-Know-Who, and his sister has been dying of her wounds for years now. She lives at St. Mungo's, barely alive."
Hermione held her reaction with expertise. She hadn't known that.
"So I guess what I'm saying is that I don't know if he'll ever get over his demons. He tried, he truly does. But there are just some things he cannot overcome, and especially not without help."
"I have nothing better to do," Hermione said with a shrug, but there was so much more meaning behind it. Since when did I start becoming Draco? But the mere thought of him made her eyes well up again and she wept until there were no more tears.
"You've been very quiet," Melantha said to Draco. Kamal had fallen asleep instantly on the seat opposite them. "A lot on your mind?"
"No," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at his reflection in the window.
"You're going to have to be my son eventually, you know. We had a start when you defended me against Sitara. But—"
"I didn't want to leave," he said, surprisingly them both. He hadn't thought to speak, but the words came against his will. "But I have to. We both knew that, and she's the one who told me to go, more or less." He pressed his forehead against the glass, its coolness doing nothing to ease his pain. "She didn't cry."
"She was waiting for you to leave." But she couldn't know any more than he did. "She didn't want you to go any more than you wanted to leave. And there's still time to go back."
"I've made my decision, mother. I'm going. I have to. I can't live with myself any longer just sitting around. And especially not after seeing what it can do to you." He gestured to the sleeping Kamal, who didn't stir.
"I love you, Draco. You're my son above all. I'm there for you, no matter what. And I wish you luck."
"Thanks." He shrugged, still unable to look at her. The truth was that he did want to reconcile with her and act like her son, but it was still too soon. Not even a year since he'd found out the truth. How was he supposed to adapt so quickly? But she was being patient and he appreciated that. It did help a great deal that when he thought of their relationship he always thought of Dante, and their soon-to-be second baby, and how he would feel if one or both of them harbored intensely bad feelings towards him or Hermione. And that got him to thinking about how truthful they would be in the future, what they would and would not tell their children about them, how they came together and what a bumpy road it had been.
That's if I survive, he thought bitterly. Because there was always a chance that he could die.
"I'll take good care of Hermione and the babies," Melantha said, kissing his cheek. He jerked back instantly, wiping the place her lips had been.
"I probably won't be around when she has the baby," he groaned, punching his leg. He wanted to turn back now more than anything he'd ever felt before. But his love for Hermione and his family held him strong. Who would fight for them if he didn't?
"I'll keep you informed…if I can find you."
"I'm making no promises," he said stiffly.
Melantha bowed her head and nodded. Draco sighed and placed a hand on hers, causing her to nearly jump out of her seat. But he stuck to the gesture; now was as good a time as any to start being the proper son. And she needed the comfort, for he had made two decision: he was leaving his family to protect them and he was going to search for Voldemort, no matter who stood in his way, and get the revenge he was his so rightly deserved.
"You're not a…bad mother."
"Thank you," she whispered.
"I'll be fine," he insisted.
"You said you wouldn't make promises," she laughed bitterly.
"I have to come back."
But Melantha only nodded, feeling for the third time in her life that she had lost her son.
Sorry for such a long delay. I've been very, very, very busy. And I've had a little writer's block with this story. But now I'm rolling again. I might still have big gaps, what with all my schoolwork, but I will never abandon this story. It's my baby :)
REVIEW and I shall update:D
