A/N: Hum… I don't know if we authors are actually allowed to put these things in here anymore… There are just too many rules for me to remember. Anyhow, like I've stated before, my computer is on the fritz yet and me gots these nasty bites (which are going down in size, now)… It's also 12:05 AM, and I am actually quite tired, or my eyes are, anyway. I've been on the computer for some 11 hours as of about 20 minutes ago, so pardon most mistakes. Night Lady's on vacation in Florida right now, so I have no beta other than my spell-check and grammar-check. By the way, this is probably the longest chapter you'll get, so enjoy it. It was 6 pages on Microsoft word, but then I edited it and it only came to 5. Of course, now that I've added the A/N to it, it's probably 6 again, now. Either way, like I said, it's the youngest chapter you'll probably get. Also, now there may be a delay between chapters. I have to start writing the 4th chapter now. Prior to the next chapter, everything was really written, it just needed edited and moved… I think I've talked enough, already.
Disclaimer: grrr If you MUST know, Please read the disclaimer for Chapter Two, and then follow the instructions there! It will all show that I do not now, or have I ever, own(ed)
Harry Potter.
A/N (Part Two): Alright, without further ado, here is the third installment of my story! As of now (when I am writing this) I have yet to think of a fitting title. If you have any good ideas, suggestions, ideas, etc. leave them in your review. As always, suggestions, ideas, and challenges are ALWAYS taken into serious consideration! Also, by the way, this is officially a Dramione fic! Don't like it, leave or get over it and keep reading. Also, is sheepish prepare for Draco-torture-by-voldie, in a non graphic form. Also, I know this is cliché, but here again, it's needed for my story: Harry is abused by his uncle, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah, and Draco's coughDEADcough mother didn't want him and his coughDEADcough father abused him… I know, cliché, but I needed these things, like I needed a good Severus. Also, part of this chapter was written awhile ago, so if it seems like you're reading a good part, and then it goes to a kind of not-so-good part, well… It just means it didn't blend as well as I thought it was.
The night went quickly for the three friends, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The fight had been late at night, and thus the three of them slept until well past noon. Soon would bring the beginning of school again, and their Hogwarts letters. 7th year was going to be hard, Hermione knew.
Hermione was the first to rise, at 12:27. She made her bed, and quickly went downstairs. "Morning, Mione" Ginny greeted. Hermione waved in response. She was so tired she didn't notice Draco Malfoy eating a bowl of cold cereal at the kitchen table.
Hermione poured herself a glass of orange juice, added 2 apple slices to it, and made a bowl of cereal. 'Out of Cheerio's, Ronald dearest.' She thought absently. She walked out into the kitchen, bowl of cereal and glass of orange juice, one in each hand. She set them down across the table, still not noticing he was there. Ginny suppressed a giggle.
'Damnit… Forgot a spoon.' Hermione thought. She turned back to the kitchen, got a spoon, and returned to the table. This time she noticed Draco. She nearly dropped her spoon. He looked up, and she said, "Morning, Malfoy." Ginny giggled and left again. Draco looked at her, wondering why in the world she was giggling.
Hermione sat down with her spoon, and began to eat. She reached for the Daily Prophet, and read the headlines. Nothing was out of the ordinary, really. "So…" she started. "You're actually eating. In the kitchen, I mean. Erm, the dining room…" She finished off lamely.
"Brilliant observation, Granger." He stated. Hermione nodded.
Around 2 o'clock, 5 owls flew into the window. They were all regular brown barn owls, Hogwarts owls. "Hogwarts letters are here!" Hermione yelled up the stairs. Soon, all 5 teenagers were looking for their letters, and got the right owls, eventually. Being Hogwarts owls, they didn't really tend to help much, but they didn't hinder the teens' efforts to get the letters.
"Books are going to be bloody expensive this year…" Harry said, noticing the rather long list.
"Yeah." Ginny added.
"There are 8 periods now, plus lunch." Hermione noticed, comparing she and Harry's schedules. Draco hung back. He dreaded going back to school, back to Slytherin house. Of course, probably only about ½ of the total population would be going back to school.
Most of the Slytherins were Death Eaters by now. They would have joined the ranks of their leader, and left school, save for those going back for no other purpose than to spy. Ravenclaws were all very smart. Most of them reasoned that Voldemort would be attempting an attack on the school, possibly more. Hufflepuff house was full of cowards, Draco assumed. They wouldn't be there long, if they returned at all. But Gryffindor… Gryffindors were not so easily intimidated. They would return, Draco knew.
All too soon, the adults started to show up. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley took their book lists. "Don't worry about all of this! We'll get it for you." Mrs. Weasley stated. Each of them handed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley enough to cover their books, and added anything else they wanted onto the list. "Sorry about this, kids, but we can't let you out. McGonagall's orders, you understand." Mr. Weasley said.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were entirely too wrapped up in book-buying and class schedules to look at the teen's letters. Hermione had made Head Girl. Draco was Head Boy, not that he shared that fact, unlike Hermione.
The rest of the night passed in a blur. No one really noticed how fidgety the youngest, er, only Malfoy, was getting. Draco paced the floor in the room he and Harry shared. Would Voldemort know? Would he know that Draco had been sharing a room with the Golden Boy? Could he just sense it? Draco about jumped out of his skin when he heard the door creak open.
"Uh, Malfoy? Professor Snape is waiting for you in the kitchen." Ginny said, noticing suspiciously that Draco seemed to cringe at her words.
Draco instinctively looked at the clock… Oh gods, it was 11:45 PM. He pushed his way out of the room, past the red-headed girl, and down the stairs.
Draco sneaked into the kitchen, barely making a sound. However quiet he was, however, Severus Snape still sense the tow-headed youth's presence in the room. "Are you ready, Draco?" he asked. Draco nodded. It was slight, but visible.
Hermione was just coming into the room to get a glass of pumpkin juice -- chilled, of course -- when the duo apparated to who-knew-where. Hermione took little notice of it, however. Perhaps Snape was taking Draco to buy potions supplies or something. It barely crossed her mind that Mrs. Weasley had already taken care of that.
Later that night, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Harry sat on Harry's bed, brainstorming ideas on how to kill Malfoy without anyone noticing. Molly, Arthur, and McGonagall sat in the sitting room waiting for the two some to return to Grimmauld Place. It was now well past 11:00 at night. Just as Molly was about to turn in for the night, a loud 'pop' rang through the sitting room, and Severus and Draco appeared. All were taken aback by their sudden appearance, and Draco's over-all appearance.
Draco's robes were tatty and torn, and his face was red and bruising. It looked as though he has just gotten done sobbing, and he was covered in his own blood, cradling his left arm in his right. Severus seemed palled, and looked disgusted. His robes had a bit of dust on them that he quickly brushed away.
"Oh, my, you poor dear." Mrs. Weasley said, taking Draco's shoulder in her hand and leading him into the kitchen. All followed. Draco stood next to the sink as Mrs. Weasley wet a dish clothe and dabbed at a cut above his eyebrow, all the while clicking her tongue. She very tenderly wiped and dabbed the blood from his face, and gently took his arm so she could examine it. Abruptly, as she pulled the robe's sleeve up, she gasped, and hurried from the room.
Draco stood oddly stoic as Severus carefully examined the arm, careful not to allow Mr. Weasley or Professor McGonagall to see the ugly black brand in the center of his forearm. "Easy, Draco. We'll need to call Madam Pomphrey for this, I'm afraid." Snape said, easing the blood from the arm, and around the wound the brand had caused. Draco winced.
Within an hour, he was practically fine again, except for the bruises and some of the cuts. Madam Pomphrey had left them to heal on their own. Draco walked up the stairs, still in his blood soaked Death Eater robes, the hood down. He entered the room, and saw the golden trio, plus weaselette on Potter's bed. Slowly he turned to his dresser, and began to extract a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt. He knew his must be soaked with blood.
"As adorable as I am, Potter, Granger, Weasleys, I have to ask you to not stare at me." He said in a strangled voice. Ginny left with Hermione and Ron, but Harry wouldn't leave.
"What happened to you, Malfoy?" He asked, curiosity in his eyes.
It unnerved Draco. "Nothing, alright... just, nothing." He snapped out, and gingerly took the black robe off; letting it drop to the floor with a 'thud/squish' of heavy, wet fabric falling. Hermione could see the blood staining the hard-wood floor. Draco's jeans looked purple in places where the blood was the worst. That was, well, pretty much everywhere. Draco slipped into the bathroom to change and shower.
"I can't believe it…" Mrs. Weasley said, gingerly setting her tea cup down gingerly with shaking hands. "That was so much blood… Even Poppy didn't know what all to do for the boy." She whispered, almost afraid to admit to what she had seen, heard. "Severus… Why?" She asked, looking up at the greasy-haired professor. Severus looked thoughtful, wondering if he should tell her that it was just part of the… Ceremony, if one could call that horrendous act that. It was more like the courting in of a gang member than a ceremony. He decided against it.
"I don't know, Molly, I just don't know." Seemed to be fitting enough for her, as the four adults turned in for the night.
Harry head a loud, "Thud!" from the bathroom. "Malfoy?" He called, and received no answer. Immediately he went to the adjoined bathroom, and found Draco Malfoy in a pair of black silk boxers, passed out on the floor. For the first time, Harry realized how pitifully thin the young man was, and how frail he was, stained with his own blood.
"Malfoy. Come on, get up!" Harry said, wrenching Draco back into the real world. Draco looked afraid, and Harry saw that he was near tears. Draco immediately rose to his feet, and stood tall and proud. He would NEVER admit that he had just passed out from pain.
"Get. Out." Draco said, glaring at Harry. Harry turned and left. Draco looked into the mirror. He didn't like what he saw. Draco's gorgeous white-blonde hair was tinted red from blood, and he had bruises on his face. His ribs stuck out visibly, his face was gaunt. This had to stop. He couldn't allow others to go through this. Sure, he was selfish Slytherin, but this was more than even he could handle. Draco shook his head feebly and started a shower.
Harry sat on his bed. He couldn't help but noticed long the finger-shaped bruises on Draco's neck, and the huge one that covered his side, and probably his hip, as well. Malfoy was awfully thin. Didn't he eat anything? Harry shook his head, deciding to let Malfoy make the choice of what to do with his life - and his body. But for the first time in Harry's short life, he really felt sorry for the youngest, er, only, Malfoy. Draco Malfoy might be a death eater, but Harry could tell that something was seriously going wrong.
The next… Afternoon, Hermione was sent to wake up Draco. "Get up, Malfoy. Up!" Hermione said, shaking Draco's shoulder. Everyone else had already gotten up, and Severus had said to wake him, since it was well past noon. Draco groaned, and slapped at Hermione's hand.
"No... Just a bit longer!" He said, from under his covers. It came out as more like, "Mo...Hus a bee wonga!"
Just at that moment, Snape came in. "Draco, you must get up. You have to eat something." The boy only groaned and nestled further into the mattress. Hermione shrugged, as though to say, "Well, what can you do?" She went to the other side of the room and sat on Harry's bed.
"Draco, wake up now." Snape said, lightly touching the boy's side.
Draco shot up like lightening. "Huh? What? Oh." He said, taking a small vile from Severus. The liquid inside was amber in color, and runny, like water. Draco tilted his head back, and swallowed it all. Hermione, even from the other side of the room, noticed the grimace on the tow-headed teen's face, and realized that he and Severus had done this before... What was wrong with Malfoy? Had Voldemort done this before or something?
Severus left and Hermione asked his if he had ever been hurt by Voldemort before. He shook his head. "No… Not the Dark Lord…" He said, his eyes saying that he still knew what pain was like.
Hermione, being a book-worm, thought that she knew who had hurt him before. "Draco, did your father ever hurt you?" she asked bluntly.
Draco looked shocked, but also a little bit afraid "No! He wouldn't... He never... I mean... Just no! Okay? My father loves, er, loved, me!" Draco said, pulling a shirt over his head, and pulling his jeans on.
Hermione shook her head. "Yeah, sure, whatever. But you're wrong. I can tell that you're lying. He did hurt you."
Draco sat on his bed, and rested his head in his hands. He began to cry and Hermione walked over to him. Gingerly, she sat down on the side of the bed, and put her hand on his shoulder. He jerked away. Hermione withdrew her hand from his shoulder.
"Get out!" He yelled, in sort of a strangled manner. Hermione looked at him. "You know, if you ever need-" she began, but he cut her off when he barked, "Get out!" again.
She walked down the stairway, and into the hall, then the kitchen. She grabbed a slice of cold toast off of the stack left over from breakfast, and ate in silence at her place at the table. Then she had a half a glass of water, and returned to the room Draco and Harry shared. "Malfoy, tell me. Jesus, I understand!" Hermione said, as soon as she entered the room.
"How could you?" Draco asked, his doubt showing on his face.
"Because Harry told me about it…" Hermione said, realizing about ½ way through just how ridicules her statement must sound.
"Fine! You want to know so badly! Then I'll tell you! He turned me into a fucking SERVANT! I'm a MALFOY! I shouldn't have to serve anyone, let alone the Dark Lord. I don't want to be his servant. If I screw up just one tiny bit, He'll torture me until I'm sure I would rather die, but I never will!" He said, tears starting the fall from his eyes again.
Ginny stepped into the room. She saw the tow-headed teen, his body racked in sobs. Hurriedly she went to the bathroom and filled a cheap plastic cup, one of the one's Mrs. Weasley insisted they use to rinse after they brushed their teeth, with water. She walked over to Malfoy, and handed him the cup. "Here, Draco. Have a drink... Maybe it will help." He took the cheap red cup, and swallowed a bit of water, trying to regain his composure, and crying harder because he couldn't. Not yet, anyway.
Hermione sat on the bed next to the Slytherin prince, and hugged him. Ginny did the same on his other side, both girls mothering the teen, although he was older than both of them. Shamelessly, he cried into Hermione's shoulder.
Ron looked into the room, and then quickly left, a disgusted look on his face. Why had Hermione left him for…? And his own sister! Ginny was acting like that Death Eater was some little puppy she had picked up off the streets.
"Draco, calm down." Hermione whispered.
Within a few moments Draco's sobbing eased to a labored breathing. He pulled away. "I'm sorry about that... I just... I don't know what's happening to me. The spells are coming off, and-" he tried to lie, lamely. Both Ginny and Hermione saw through his feeble lies. There were no spells.
"You're finally accepting the fact that your family is far from perfect." Hermione suggested to him. He nodded jerkily, and walked over to his dresser, pulled out an old, faded, dark grey (used to be black) T-shirt that had to be 4 sizes too small, and wiped his eyes.
Hermione couldn't help but notice how badly the 17 year old's hands shook. He was fighting for self control, and loosing the battle miserably. Hermione walked over to him, and took the shirt out of his hands. "Listen," She said, as she started to dab at the tears running down his pale, angular cheeks, "If you ever need to talk to anyone, talk to Harry. He knows what it's like to live in Hell." She said, handing him back the shirt, and walking out of the room. Ginny gave him a quick hug and followed her older mentor.
Draco stood dumbfounded over what had just happened. God, Hermione and Ginny were being forgiving! What did he do to deserve that? Nothing. He thought back to every single time he had called her a mudblood, or Ginny 'weaselette', and whatever other insult he could fire at the pair of them. Hermione had always been so angry! And now... Now she had been like a loving mother... Something he had only dreamt about it.
Narcissa had hardly been loving. He remembered when he was eight and he had tripped on the hallway rug. His mother had muttered, "Jesus, Draco! You call yourself a Malfoy! I knew you were a mistake from the moment you were conceived! Clumsy as hell, clumsy as hell…"
Draco put away the worm shirt and sighed. He was tired. But dinner was calling and he was hungry. A lot of time had passed between he and the girls. He was starving, in fact. Regaining most of his composure, Draco cast a calming spell on himself and descended for the dining room.
