AN: Thanks to the readers taking the time to look at this.
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Song suggestion: Pompeii, Bastille.
Chapter Six: Precipice.
Draco blinked several times at the sudden light and glanced around. They were on a beach somewhere, evidently somewhere in Britain by the looks of it. The wind was cold and fierce. Clutching Granger closer to protect her from the weather he stood up and looked around for everyone else.
Pansy brushed herself down and straightened her fringe. Blaise was stood with Pansy, slightly shielding her with his body, ready if Potter or Weasley turned on us. They looked fine except a little wary. Weasley was dusting himself off as the wet sand clung to all of their clothes. The Goblin stood disdainfully grumbling at the imperfect landing.
But Potter remained crouched on the ground, Dobby held in his arms. A tear slid down his cheek and Draco realised the House Elf was dying. He never had much consideration for House Elves but clearly Potter did. It must have been a Muggle thing, Draco thought, because Granger had done S.P.E.W. a few years back for them.
Thinking of Granger, he glanced down at his unconscious load. He was shocked anew at her carved eyelids and black, raised veined skin. Draco's eyes rested on Granger's arm. 'Mudblood'. He would never consider her that again. The girl was always purer than him, an innocent in war. The word disgusts him, imprinted on her arm.
Others were running from an old cottage on the cliff. He recognised Thomas and Lovegood along with an older man who was definitely a Weasley. They skittered to a stop at the sight of the three Slytherins and wands were drawn.
"What's going on?" The Weasley bellowed keeping his wand steadily on Draco. Thomas pointed at Blaise and Pansy while Lovegood kept hers raised but wavering. Then the blonde witch's eyes were drawn to Draco's arms and who was cradled in them.
"Hermione!" The Lovegood girl hurried to Granger and gasped at the curly haired witch's appearance. His arms around her tightened subconsciously, even though he knew she would come to no harm but he did not release his tense grip at all. The Lovegood girl stroked her fingers over the raised black veins as tears gathered in her usually dreamy eyes, "Sweet Rowena." She breathed as she caught sight of Hermione's eyes. Draco's mouth twitched as if to defend Granger's grotesque state but wisely kept it closed.
"What the bloody hell has happened?" The Weasley repeated his sentiment as he came closer to Draco. He too gaped at Gryffindor's Princess, as did Thomas. Weasley quickly turned away, but kept his wand pointed at Draco, as if the Slytherin would hurt the girl he had just saved the life of. Thomas had a stronger stomach and continued to gaze over his fellow classmate, though he gulped heavily.
"Dean, help me get Hermione inside!" Lovegood instructed and the dark Gryffindor moved to take her. Malfoy clung to Granger, she was his only way to guarantee acceptance, and it was as if without her he was doomed to be thrown to the Dementors. After all, he was a Death Eater and rescuing Muggle-borns was not included in the lifestyle description. His foot moved to stepped back but Draco forced himself to still as they advanced. Reluctantly Draco released her to Dean. Watching as Thomas stepped away while Lovegood went to the Goblin.
"Bloody hell!" He heard Thomas muttered. Then the three Gryffindors and Goblin left. They hurried to the cliff top cottage together, Granger limp in Thomas' arms and Lovegood keeping pace with Griphook.
"Story, now." The Weasley barked snapping all attention back to him and Draco suppressed the urge to tell him where to stick his abruptly rude attitude.
"They got caught and were brought to Draco's-Malfoy Manor." Pansy explained stepping forward, trying to be the superior she was at Hogwarts, but everyone could have called her bravado easily as her hands quivered and her eyes darted around terrified that their escape was their death, "We saved them."
"What? Why?" The Weasley's face was astounded. But that was expected; who would have thought the three children of notorious purebloods with serious issues with blood purity would become turncoats? No one. Not even the three who had made that choice. Apprehension would be ripe against the defectors.
"We want to change sides." Pansy confessed quickly and everyone held their breath waiting for the rebuke. So easily the three Gryffindors left could turn on the Slytherins, killing them in disbelief for Pansy's words. It'd be easier to handle, three Death Eaters dead was better than questionable warriors who would never be trusted. Ignoring a blubbering Potter and a consoling younger Weasley, all the Slytherins stared at the older ginger as he looked deep in thought.
Blaise watched him, every twitch and quirk, trying to drag out his thoughts by his body language. After all that was his speciality, reading what was not there. Pansy shifted uneasily and inched closer to Blaise, fear caused her to go to her closest protector, her earlier confident attitude abandoned. If it came to a duel she'd stand behind the two boys casting defensive spells while they attacked, just as they always practised. Draco looked on with a raised brow and slightly smug face. He believed they would pass. The Light side was known for forgiveness, always giving out second chances. It was common knowledge, but was it broken by war? Would their ability to forgive and forget have been hardened off by the war with its traitors? It called into question his certainty.
The older Weasley considered for a very long time. There was an uncertain truce held between the two parties. Either he'd recognise their surrender and they would be accepted as traitors to their cause, helping the Light side hopefully win the war. Or the older Weasley would reject their plea and he'd have to duel them. At this rate, no one could decide. With all the suffering and lies of the war changing people everyone was on tenterhooks on what decision would be made. All of their fates in the hands of the Weasley before them.
The older ginger sighed.