Draco
Shell Cottage
March 1998
The sea air overwhelmed Draco's senses as they slammed into their destination. He had no bearing as to where they were.
He let his faculties expand out. Sand was grinding under his feet. A wave crashed hollow somewhere around him, sounding far away, but when he looked up, the foamy water was creeping near.
Everything he felt was dulled, however. Something as trivial as his surroundings was competing with something that could not be competed against. Something that he held in his arms.
The group had landed heavily on the sand, sprawling out like a water droplet from a point of impact. But Hermione did not tumble away. She was tightly secured in Draco's arms, his body straining against the momentum of landing to not let her move away from him.
As soon as he had his footing he set her down gingerly on the sand. She wasn't moving, Draco observed, and his body froze in fear. The last time she moved was right before they apparated.
That was when she used his name. It seemed impossible.
He didn't realize that tears were already escaping him as he looked over her limp body on the sand. Her eyes were rolled back into her head, but he willed himself to believe he detected slight movement there.
If she died because he did not act quick enough…
His hands shook along her neck as he gently laid her head into the sand. She needed to be in a position where he could find out what was wrong with her. Stop whatever it was that was killing her.
Draco had seen what torture could do to the human body, and this alone was not torture. Weaker people than Hermione had gone for more time under Crucio and not come out looking this bad. No, something else was terrifyingly wrong.
In a muffled way, Draco could tell that others were around him, but they might as well have been the waves for all he cared.
But the garbled sound of voices came to a crescendo and he felt his shoulder be pulled back from his guarded position over her body. It hardly jostled him. He was planted firmly in place.
He looked at her pouty lips, slightly parted and taking in shallow breathes. He couldn't help it, he cradled her face in that moment and leaned into her. His face so close to hers now, his knees sunk deep into the sand.
"Hermione you have to hold on," Draco whispered, his voice raspy and raw. Her eyes gave a light flicker against her lids .
"Get off of her!"
His body was thrust back into the sand. Draco sensed right away that it was Weasley who had been the one to pry him from her.
Without much effort, Draco recovered his balance and moved back to Hermione, not paying a second glance to the person who pulled him away. Draco's fingers hovered over Hermione's cheek as she began to gasp desperately for breath, her body stiffening and riling as she tried to feed her lungs.
Ron tried to lay hands on Draco again, but this time Draco was ready. A powerful protego ejected wordlessly from Draco's wand, sending Ron toppling backwards over the sand.
Draco looked manic; his chest now heaving as his wand remained outstretched at the point Weasley had stood.
As Ron recovered a few meters off, Draco's eyes found Potter who was now kneeling down by Hermione, looking put aside by fear.
His eyes pleaded with Potter. He just needed to fix Hermione, save her somehow. He needed space and thought perhaps Potter, who knew the truth, would let him. To Draco's relief, Harry returned a tight nod.
In a breath Draco was back next to Hermione, cradling her head in his hand, looking over her face and inspecting her vitals. Feeling her pulse, he could sense it, but it was faint. Her breathing began to level off.
This wasn't the after effects of being tortured. He had to find out what was doing this to her.
In the background, Draco could hear Harry and Ron have words.
His eyes continued to scan the delicate features of her body, his heart splintering every second he took in her wasted state. Then, crimson red caught his attention against the gritty wet sand.
Hands shaking, Draco gathered up her arm, finding that her shirt had been ripped completely up to the armpit. Trailing up her arm, he first saw the faint lines connecting her consolation freckles. Then his heart burned and froze all at once. Right above her Morsmordre mark, as faint as it was, was the source of what was slowly killing her.
Bellatrix had crudely carved "mudblood" into her arm. The wound was pulsating sickeningly at the source of the cuts.
Draco knew exactly what Bellatrix had used, and his stomach dropped into an icy pit. It was a cursed blade impregnated with a powerful poison, a poison that would slowly seep into the bloodstream from the wound, inching its way towards victims heart, and once the poison was there, the victim would die.
"Potter!" Draco bellowed, his neck becoming ribbons of tense tendons.
Harry rushed over to Draco who was breathing heavily over Hermione. Ron was about to pick another fight, until he saw Hermione's arm.
"It's poison. We need to do something. Who is here, we need medicine, we need something to stop the spread!" Draco was rambling like a crazed man, his hands reaching for her face again.
The color in Ron's face had drained, and Harry looked as if he was about to wretch.
"Potter!" Draco cried. "Who is here that can help!"
"Up at the cottage… um, Fleur. She has healer training," Harry muttered, looking at Hermione helplessly.
Draco grabbed his wand and for the first time ever, cast the expecto patronum charm to send a message up to the cottage. The memory he used was the first time he ever woke up with Hermione in his arms.
It was no surprise to him that when his Patronus took form, it was an Otter.
Draco sank back down to his knees next to Hermione with a thud, pulling her into his lap, doing his best to position her so her heart remained elevated above her arm. He didn't know what he was doing but doing nothing wasn't an option.
A small squat figure waddled over to them. He looked beat up, but not nearly as bad as Hermione.
"The curse was contained," the goblin said to the three wizards. They all looked up at him, and then back down to Hermione.
"The other witch in the room," the goblin went on to say, now only looking at Draco. "I saw her. She was performing a counter curse"
Draco's heart flinched as he looked back down to Hermione.
If there was no intervention to stop the spread of poison, it was likely that Hermione should in fact already be dead. But the spread had stopped. By his mother. That was why she looked so pale right before they apparated away.
His mother saved Hermione's life.
Rushed thumping footsteps approached them, reverberating through the sand. Draco turned to see Luna running up the beach at full speed, and just behind her was Fleur Delacour.
The two came to a stuttering halt in front of Hermione with satchels filled with dittanys and salves. Fleur gave Draco a hard look before turning to Hermione.
"It was a cursed blade. A counter curse was performed, but the blade was impregnated with poison" Draco explained to the stern looking french witch at a numb cadence. Fleur continued to cast judgment over Draco's presence, unsure of what to make of him being there.
"Done by your lot I zepoze?" Fluer questioned in an acerbic manner, all the while examining Hermione's arm carefully. The part Veela took out a salve and a potion, mixed it in the palm of her hand, and began to spread it over the wound.
Draco took a step back. He didn't want to be cause for distraction. From his new vantage point, he did note with some relief that some color was coming back into Granger's cheeks.
Luna continued to inspect Hermione's vitals and then turned to Harry.
"How did Hermione cast her Patronus?" Luna questioned, seeing the state of the injured witch.
Harry gave Luna a confused look. A second passed before his brows crept up past his shaggy brown hair in understanding.
"That was Malfoy's Patronus," Harry divulged. Ron, who was still colorless, faintly registered what Harry had said, and gave Draco an uncertain look.
But all Draco could do was watch Hermione's face as she continued to be worked on.
After minutes, which could have also been hours or days, Fleur looked up.
"She ez going to be OK," Fleur told the huddled group of witches and wizards on the beach. Draco's knees nearly gave out in relief. "This scar though, I doubt that it will ever go away"
Draco looked back down to Hermione's arm, slowly reading the ragged spelling of 'mudblood'.
His body itched to apparate back to the manor and handle his Aunt. The rage that coursed through every piece of him made him believe he could end the war right then and there, he could go back and take out every last Death Eater including the Dark Lord himself.
His attention was pulled back when he noticed a slight movement coming from Hermione. Her face scrunched and her head moved side to side as if she was waking up from a nightmare.
Draco had moved to her so swiftly that Harry and Ron had little chance to beat him there.
Her eyes flicked open briefly, and then squinted into the dull, dawn light that filled her vision.
"Draco?" she mumbled, looking up at him. He shook his head. The way she said his name, the fact that she said his name, didn't make sense. She shouldn't remember their past.
Fleur looked in between Hermione and Draco, then over to Luna.
"Luna, can you transport 'ermoine back to zee cottage?" Fluer asked, to which Luna nodded and then cast a hover charm over Hermione's body.
Slowly, Hermione lifted into the air, and Luna guided her back up to the cottage. Begrudgingly, Fleur also offered the Goblin, Griphook, the same transport options as Hermione, which he accepted.
Then, it was only Draco, Potter, Weasley and the crashing waves left on the beach.
Draco kept his sights on Hermione's form as she continued to move further and further away, his body feeling heavier as she grew smaller. He knew she would be OK, but he was finding it difficult to keep it together.
"Malfoy!" Weasley howled.
When Draco turned his attention towards the voice, Weasley was already charging at him full force. At the last second, Potter stepped in.
"Ron stop," Harry commanded with a domineering tone as he maintained his position between the two wizards.
Ron looked incredulous, trying to edge his way around Harry's block. "What are you doing Harry?"
Draco's arms were limp at his side. He didn't care if Weasley wanted to take all of his pent up anger out on him. Draco had no fight left. Perhaps getting pummeled would be a welcome relief to the numbness he felt at letting Granger get this hurt.
"Ron, you don't know the whole story," Harry tried to tell Ron. Draco let his eyes move up to Potter's, and then over to Weasley's.
"His sick aunt did this to her!" Ron screamed, veins now bulging from his head.
And Weasley was right; his aunt did this to Hermione. The only solace Draco could take in any of this, was that his mother, for some unknown reason, chose to save her.
"Again, Ron, please cool down. Hermione is going to be OK," Harry continued, his attention fully on Ron. Draco sank down to a crouched position in the sand and was holding his head in his hands, eyes cast down.
"Have you gone insane Harry!" Weasley was ballistic. He was pacing in short circles on the other side of Potter who was splitting the distance between the two feuding wizards. "He's a Death Eater!"
"He got us out Ron!" Harry shouted back, no longer trying to be understanding with his tone.
"Dobby could have got us out!" Ron lashed back at Harry. Harry shook his head.
"We don't know that." Harry tried to level his voice. Ron had stopped pacing, but his chest was now heaving.
"So what, we just let Malfoy into the inner circle because he had some crush on Hermione last year?" Ron questioned loudly.
Involuntarily, Draco let out a mirthless laugh.
What Ron said wasn't necessarily funny, but calling what Draco felt towards Granger a "crush" was perhaps the understatement of the century.
"Oh so this is funny?" Ron turned again to Draco, peering over Harry's shoulders to get a look at him. Slowly Draco rose, his demeanor though, was deadly serious.
"None of this is funny, Weasley. Granger almost died," Draco said with lethal articulation. Ron stilled.
"So what, you're just not a Death Eater anymore?" Ron questioned insincerely. Even Harry turned his head to look at Draco for his response.
Draco glanced down at his left arm, and then down at the sand.
"At this point if they catch any of you they will already know I defected so fuck it, who cares anymore," Draco mumbled, letting his head roll up. "I was forced to become a Death Eater last year after my father failed to collect the prophecy at the Ministry the year prior. The real punishment though was tasking me to kill Dumbledore. I would likely fail, and then be killed. It was all to punish my parents. Then I was threatened with the prospect of my mother being tortured last year at my lack of attempts to kill Dumbledore."
Harry and Ron's mouths fell open at his candid response. Their extended silence brought forward some of the subtle elements of their surroundings that had faded into the background; waves crashing around them, a cool moist beach breeze blowing across their skin in harsh licks.
"Then why did you stay with them after Dumbledore was killed?" Ron asked, and to his credit, he sounded genuinely interested.
"I couldn't defect without putting my family at risk. The initial plan was to fake my death when the Death Eaters infiltrated last year, but that plan fell apart." Draco explained, taking a breath. "I found that I was able to do more good on the inside anyway"
"Like what?" Harry asked, now turning his body to face Draco.
Draco rolled his neck and let out a deep sigh. He didn't want to be doing this. He wanted to go find Hermione and make sure she was OK.
But then he remembered that she wouldn't remember him, and his presence may not be appreciated, possibly even jarring.
He relented to answering their questions.
"I took over the Muggle Apprehension Initiative. Where possible, we smuggled muggles out of the country. It couldn't be done for everyone, so the rest were sent to a Malfoy estate repurposed for prisoner holding, located in Brighton. I assured the safe treatment of the muggles held there, which was not the case when they were being sent to Azkaban."
Draco turned his attention to Weasley who was giving Draco an uncomfortable look, like he was trying to piece something together. Almost as if his mind was resurfacing bits of his capture from months prior.
He wasn't going to admit to Weasley that he was behind him being released by the Snatchers. That's not why he did it. It was so he could escape and get back to Granger, to keep her safe.
Which he didn't do.
Draco felt rage building in his system towards Weasley. After a steadying breath, though, he challenged himself to face facts.
It was his aunt who permanently scarred and nearly killed the witch he loved. It was Voldemort and his band of Death Eaters that perpetuated this hate against her kind.
His fight was not against Weasley.
"Ron, give me a second with Malfoy," Harry asked, turning back to face Ron.
A wave crashed nearby. "Sure, fine," Ron replied heedlessly, turning to walk back to the cottage.
Harry walked to Draco, closing the distance.
"He'll come around," Potter suggested. Draco scoffed. "OK, probably not"
The two stood there, waves continuing to roll up to shore, creeping closer and closer to where they stood.
Harry was the first to speak.
"What's going to happen back at the Manor?"
Draco shrugged and tried his best to not let panic creep up past his chest and into his throat.
"I don't know," he answered, sounding exhausted. "Before I left, my mother seemed to have known something, I think" Draco was working the memories out as he brought them up. "When you all turned up, she told me to do what I had to do. And that they would be OK"
Harry paused, his eyes looking up and then back to Draco. "Was your mother the witch Griphook referred to? The one that stopped the curse spreading in Hermione?""
Draco nodded. "Yes"
"And when Theo said there wasn't a plan for him to leave…"
That had slipped Draco's memory. "Yes, I had forgotten about that. Potter I don't know what any of that meant."
And to Draco's relief, Potter believed him.
The silence bloomed out again. This time it was Draco who broke the silence.
"How much does Granger remember?" Draco asked tentatively. "About me?"
The answer should be very little. In planning her memory, the two painstakingly went through every angle of their timeline and crafted a version of events that would make the most sense when considering they couldn't change what happened publicly.
To construct a bullet proof memory that didn't accidentally leave any unspoken truths behind in her mind, Draco and her had to be perfectly honest with one another about what led to their inevitable relationship. Even though his memory would be altered, she demanded he participate in divulging his innermost secrets, not deeming it fair that she would have to bare her soul to him alone. She hardly had to press him, at that point, he would have done anything for her.
All Hermione should remember is that she was intrigued by Draco during detentions, and even a little attracted to him. She would recall that Draco had opened up to her, but only to get closer to Potter and Dumbledore. Any feelings she had toward him were shredded with the reveal of him being a Death Eater.
Another wave crashed and Draco realized he had been zoning out. It looked like Potter had said something which he hadn't heard. Seeing that Draco had now focused, Harry repeated himself.
"She doesn't remember a relationship between you two, I don't think." Harry said.
It was then that Draco recalled that Potter shouldn't have known anything about him and Granger. When Draco's look gave away his skepticism at his depth of knowledge, Harry filled in the blanks.
"I was on the Astronomy Tower last year, when it all happened," Harry told Draco, making Draco's limbs tense. "Dumbledore had cast a full body bind and put my invisibility cloak over me. I heard the whole thing, I could see some of it too."
Draco looked at Harry with hesitation, but quickly resolved that Potter must be telling the truth. Anything less than Potter having seen Draco confess his love to Hermione Granger of all people would likely not have qualified him for the trust given to him to save all their lives back in the manor.
"I don't know the extent of what went on between you two. From what I can tell now, after you had cleared her memory, she had a crush on you, but those feelings went cold when it was revealed you were using her to get to me and Dumbledore. Also when it was revealed you were a Death Eater."
"That tracks with the memory she should have," Draco said numbly.
"She knew you were a Death Eater before the tower?" Harry asked. Draco nodded. "How long did she know?"
"Perhaps earlier, but she told me she knew when I woke up in the hospital after our little fight" Draco explained, underplaying what Harry did to him. Harry let his head fall.
"Malfoy, I'm really sorry…" he began but Draco put up a hand.
"Don't. It's fine. I don't know, maybe you're the one I have to thank for me getting over my shit and letting Granger in. I told her everything after she revealed that she knew what I was."
Draco let a moment pass before pulling up a nagging thought.
"She called me Draco, before we apperated. And just now on the beach." Draco's face looked painful in the recollection. "She shouldn't have done that with her modified memory."
Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets, and mirroring him, Draco did the same. He was relieved to feel that his small metal otter was still with him.
"I don't know how memory charms work, but…" Harry considered if he should say anything more. Seeing the look on Draco's face, desperate for any word on Hermione, he decided to throw the Slytherin a bone. "I've heard her mumble your name when she sleeps. I…think she's been dreaming about you"
Draco was reminded of Luna's comment from months ago when she said that deeply held memories were hard to truly remove. Maybe memories like that live in the back of one's subconscious, seeping up and out during their dreams.
"Recently she has seemed more distraught about something. She could never put her finger on it. She had told me on more than one occasion she felt like she was going crazy," Harry went on. "She would just sit for long stretches of time and look at this locket she had. Like she was trying to remember something."
Draco's eyes snapped up to Harry's then diverted quickly, but Harry caught it.
"The locket…the one with her parents' picture," Harry started a train of thought, his voice going soft in what he suspected. "You gave it to her?"
Draco just let his head drop.
"I was going to give it to her the night everything fell apart at Hogwarts." Draco explained, keeping his head low, not wanting to look at Potter as he explained. "I knew how much it weighed on her that she would have to modify her parents memory. On the off chance we had to wipe her memory, which we did, I knew she would appreciate some way of holding onto both sacrifices she had to make."
Harry said nothing. After a while, Draco finally looked up to see Harry staring at him.
"I don't know if you should tell her anything, about you two last year. Or try to bring her memory back," Harry suggested, keeping an eye on Draco.
Draco nodded, already having come to the conclusion himself. He looked over to the cottage which was some distance off, reveling in the feeling that he was now closer to her than he had been for almost a year.
"Lets see how she reacts to you being there," Harry suggested, letting his posture loosen up in front of the Slytherin. "If it's causing too much distress, you and I can discuss what the next course of action will be."
Draco gave Harry a speculative glance. "Do you think they'll let me stay?"
Harry laughed to himself and looked back up to Draco. "I honestly don't know, but I'm confident I can convince them. If you're OK with me telling them some of what you've done for the Muggles. It seems like Luna can back matters up there too. If you keep a low profile, I think you'll be allowed to stay."
Let his held breath free, Draco nodded. He would do whatever he had to do to stay near her.
"Thank you Potter" Draco said, the words feeling odd in his mouth. Harry smirked back.
"You can thank me if you survive 24 hours with Ron."