They got home late after dinner, because Mr. Granger's car stalled on the highway, and it took two hours to get a tow truck and another hour to get the car checked. Finally, Mr. Granger called a cab and sent them home, Mrs. Granger telling Hermione to use her cell phone (Draco became confused at this) if there were any problems. Hermione let them into the cold, dark house at about one in the morning, and, since everyone was wired anyway, they grabbed blankets and pillows and settled in the living room to watch, what Hermione promised they would like, moving pictures. Movies, she called them. Draco had seen a little…television, wasn't it?—when he'd been incapacitated, but he hadn't really gotten the novelty of the situation. Ron, however, found it utterly enthralling. His sister, however, fell asleep within twenty minutes, and the others after that, until Draco was the only one awake, enjoying the deep silence that permeated the room, and his heart. Hermione rested gently against him, and he passed his hand gently over her shoulder, stroking the soft skin. He rested his head back against Ginevra's knees, since she was so out of the world she wouldn't even notice. He didn't even notice himself nodding off, until he was woken what felt seconds later by a gasp of pain, it seemed only he heard.
"Potter?" he asked, and turned to see the raven headed boy sitting straight up, Ginny's head still in his lap, rubbing his forehead. Draco knew what that meant—Hermione had told him often enough.
"My scar…" he murmured. Draco eased Hermione off of him, laying her down gently. He eased into a crouch, and Potter stared at him.
"What are you doing?" he asked, but Draco motioned for him to be quiet. Harry wasn't The-Boy-Who-Could-Take-A-Hint for nothing, and immediately disentangled himself from Ginevra, and climbed over the back of the couch. Both boys sat crouched in the half-light from the moon, dressed down to boxers and t-shirts. Harry was at least armed—Draco's wand was in Hermione's room, where she had left it after their Hogsmeade trip, and he hadn't needed it since.
"Send an owl. Quickly Potter. To Hogwarts." Draco said, and Harry slunk into the kitchen, where Hedwig was to be found most nights, when she wasn't hunting. Draco went to the window, but could see nothing—clouds had obscured the only light. Potter caused Draco to jump when he reappeared at his side.
"They're here. Death Eaters. In the backyard. Two bodies are in the driveway—I think it's Hermione's parents. Obviously came home and were ambushed. Looks like Avada." Potter said, and Draco closed his eyes, silently damning his father to Hell.
"You have to get out. They'll do anything to have you dead. Wake the others, QUIETLY. Get them away from the house. Then, I'll do what I can to stall." Draco said.
"No. I'm staying with you. You'll need help." Potter protested. Draco rolled his eyes. This was no time for The-Boy-Hero to decide to use cheap dramatics.
"Impossible. You'd be killed." Draco said.
"And you won't?" Harry shot back.
"My father needs me. I'm his heir apparent, and the Dark Lord likes me." Draco said, flinching.
"Then you NEED help. Besides, Hermione won't leave you." That went straight to Draco's heart. He wouldn't—couldn't—lose Miea. That would take—everything.
"No. Take her—and go. Please. Please, Potter. Try to understand. I have to do this." Draco said, and Draco knew he wanted to argue, but he just left the room. Five seconds later, however, Draco found his wand shoved into his hand.
"You'll need this, at least." Potter said, and went to do Draco's bidding. Yet, he should have known Hermione followed no one's dictates but her own, and he soon found a handful of woman and curls in his arms.
"Let me help you, please!" Hermione cried softly. Draco cupped her face in his hands.
"Don't do this to me Hermione. Don't. I can't let you. Please understand." He said, and she started to cry. He kissed her harshly, and shoved her at Potter, who grasped her around the waist.
"NO!" she screamed, just as the kitchen door and window, where he, Potter, and Hermione had been, blew inward with the force of a curse.
"NO!" Hermione screamed before she felt herself flying backward. She landed against a wall, cracking her head against it. Then she felt her wrist tugged in a familiar grip, and she struggled against Ron as she tried to get back to where she could hear a battle. A battle between father and son.
"Hermione! Come on!" Harry had her now, and Ron was nowhere to be seen. She was dragged outside, where Harry used—to Hermione's astonishment—Avada on three Death Eaters, who fell to the ground. Behind them came Rose and Ginny, who were coughing from what was now a fire consuming her childhood home. They stumbled to the driveway, where Hermione tripped over her mother's body. She fell next to her mother, who, eyes open, lay sprawled next to their car.
"Mum! No!" Hermione cried, and grasped her mother's hand.
"Hermione! We can't stop! We have to go!" Harry yelled, and she heard Ginny crying for her brother before she felt herself wrenched along with Harry in Apparation.
Draco came face to face with his father quicker than he would have liked. His father wore the customary hood and cloak and mask of Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters, and pointed his wand now at his son.
"So, Draco. Consorting with Muggles. Mudbloods. Those you were taught from birth to loathe. And Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's whore of a best friend, no less. Tut, tut. I believed I had taught you better."
"You taught me nothing." Draco spat at his father's feet. His father's eyes narrowed, and his wand moved to point at Draco's chest.
"And honorable death it will be." Lucius said. Draco raised his chin.
"You don't know what honor is, Father." Draco said quietly, and prepared to die.
The Apparation wasn't far, and Hermione fell into Order hands immediately, as did Harry, Rose, and Ginny. Others were called to the ruins of Hermione's home, where they brought back the bodies of her parents, and that of many Death Eaters, including the ones Harry had killed. The bodies of Ron and Draco weren't found among the rubble. Hermione sat near her parents, resting on a bed in one of the many Order hideaways, and held her mother's hand. She felt two hands land on her shoulders, and turned her face upward to look into the kind, sad eyes of Remus Lupin.
"I am sorry Hermione." He whispered softly. Hermione wiped her eyes.
"Have you found Ron and Draco?" she asked.
"Just Ron's wand, amid the ruin of the kitchen." He said, and Hermione looked away. Her childhood friend and the man she loved—gone, within the space of a few minutes. Her entire world, shattered, because of her blood.
"Lucius Malfoy's hand was found, severed at the wrist, but nothing else. If he Apparated with then, then we'll find them." He said. Hermione didn't hear him. She didn't hear anything else.
Draco limped along with Ronald Weasley's arm draped across his back, helping the wizard move agonizingly slow (his leg had snapped when he had done some kind of curse so powerful that it caused the rest of Hermione's house to cave in around them). Ron was lolling in and out of consciousness, and Draco wasn't in great shape himself, knowing his right shoulder was broken, along with a few ribs.
"Where is this damn hideaway, Weasley?" Draco managed between deep gasps for air. Ron's head lolled against his shoulder.
"It's on here…" he pulled out a filthy sheet of parchment, and Draco wrinkled his nose at it.
"Excuse me?" he asked, taking it. Ron grabbed Draco's wand, muttering about idiotic Malfoys, and waved the wand.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Ron gasped, and suddenly, the entire layout of Hogwarts appeared on the parchment, along with a house the Draco had never seen before, inside Hogsmeade.
"Unplottable and unseen to eyes that have not been chosen by Dumbledore himself. I'll lead you in." Ron said. Draco held the map until he stopped before the house. "The doorknob is right straight dead ahead of your left hand. There." He said, and Draco could have cried with relief when he and Weasley collapsed at the feet of stunned Order members, one of which was Professor Severus Snape.
Hermione jolted awake when she loud voices rose in the kitchen. She jumped when the door opened, and Professor Snape, looking uncharacteristically disheveled, appeared in the doorway.
"Misters Malfoy and Weasley have returned, Miss Granger." He said, and, to her undying shock, offered his arm when she stood. He escorted her down and into the kitchen, where both had been laid on tables and were being examined by MediWitches.
"Hermione!" Draco cried, and Hermione rushed to his side. He was covered in bruises and blood, and she could see his ribs poking through skin. She grabbed his hand, and pressed his to her cheek. Draco brushed her tears away.
"Draco, I'm sorry, so sorry, please—" he cut her off, surprising her by the self-depreciating twist of his lips.
"It's my fault. Had I never been there, had I never known you, your parents would still be alive—this whole mess would never had happened. It's my fault your parents are dead." He said. Hermione shook her head, pressing kiss after kiss into his palm.
"No Draco, don't. It isn't your fault. If I didn't have you, I wouldn't have anyone right now." She whispered. Draco pulled his hand to his face, where he kissed it and laid it on his cheek.
"I'll always be a Malfoy. No matter how hard I try…the blood of a murderer runs in my veins."
"We have set up a safe house for the children, which will be run by Severus and Auror Christine Montague." Dumbledore, who had come when he had heard the news of the attack on Hermione and her family, sat with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.
"I must protest, Headmaster. I am more than capable of taking care of six children myself." Severus said softly, his customary tone.
"Miss Montague is well trained in the Auror ways, and will be a great help to you. She also knows children well." Dumbledore added, and Severus had to admit: children were obviously not his strong suit. "Would you like to meet her? She is currently speaking with Misters Malfoy and Weasley." Severus followed Dumbledore into the kitchen, where a curly headed woman leaned over Draco Malfoy, asking how he was.
"Miss Montague." Dumbledore said, and the woman turned to him. She was pretty, Severus guessed, with dark, curly hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. Her clothes were simple and Muggle, and the hair was tied back with a ribbon, her wand in her pocket. "Christine Montague, Severus Snape. Severus, Christine." The two shook hands grudgingly, as if each recognised a potential argument brewing.
"It is nice to meet you, Mr. Snape." Christine said.
"Professor. Professor Snape." Severus said, none too nicely.
"Professor, then." She said, her tone not exactly friendly either.
"Well, I'll leave you two to acquaint. Miss Weasley, could you come help me find my Lemon Drops?"
Christine Montague had been an Auror for ten years. She was damn good at her job, and was proud of that fact. How hard was watching six seventeen year olds? Granted, three were the renowned Golden Trio, and two were Malfoys, daughter and son of a known Death Eater—so maybe they weren't normal seventeen year olds. But Christine knew that she didn't need the help of some pompous 'professor'.
"Professor Snape isn't exactly sociable. Or nice. He's actually a right git." Christine turned to face Ronald Weasley, who had regained consciousness, and was sitting gingerly in a chair.
"Really? I hadn't noticed." Christine said, folding her arms across her chest. Draco Malfoy laughed. His ribs had been banded, and he used a cane, since the MediWitches had recommended it.
"He's a surly piece of work, but he's trustworthy." Draco said. Christine shrugged.
They were moved to the safe house that very day, and settled down to listen to Dumbledore's instructions.
"First, this is a purely Muggle house. NO MAGIC. That is to protect us from being discovered. Secondly, there will be no late night excursions. This shouldn't be a problem. Thirdly, do not go anywhere alone. I believe that should be all. Behave, all of you." He said, and Severus got the feeling he was talking to not the children, but the adults. Fine. He'd behave if she did.
"How long do you think Professor Snape will last Muggle?" Harry asked Ron, as the two boys unpacked. Ron snorted, and leaned against his bed, taking weight off his leg, which still pained him.
"Three hours. If that." Ron laughed.
"Draco? You don't really believe all that you said…that day…do you?" Hermione asked, laying her hand on his shoulder. He tensed.
"How can I not? How can YOU not? No wonder Rose wanted to change her name. We're just a bunch of petty murderers, who put others down because of our own inferiorities. I don't deserve you Hermione. I never will."
That is chapter eight! Now, don't kill me for killing off Hermione's parents. It just wouldn't be plausible for everyone to get away from Death Eaters. Also, sorry for the late update, my Internet sucks beans.
Also, if you could all answer a question as you review, that would be great!
Question: Would you mind if Severus got together with Christine Montague?
(Remember, in this, there is no HBP. NONE. So don't base your answer on that.) I'd appreciate it if all would answer, so I could get a count.
Courtney
ALSO: I am upping the rating, so it will now be M, because some of my future plot will be sort of squicky, or so it seems, so I'm upping the rating now, to be safe. I'll inform those who wish to know what I mean by squicky if you must know, but it's not creepy. I swear.