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Chapter Twelve
Leaving
Hermione couldn't believe it. All this time… he was afraid. He didn't want to kill his sister. She could see it in his eyes. Even Narcissa, her own mother, had come to despise the child for what she had become. She was nothing but a blood traitor to her family, another outcast of the wizarding society that would be better off dead. Hermione just couldn't understand how anyone could hate their own daughter like that. Evidently Draco Malfoy shared some of the same feelings.
He even loved his sister.
Hermione's ever great and logical mind worked to piece together all the remaining parts of the story. He'd grown up with her, she was his friend, and then came the day the Sorting Hat proclaimed her a Gryffindor. That same day, Draco started to see the mishaps in the beliefs of his family, a long line of pureblooded wizards with no respect for anything but other purebloods. But he was a true Slytherin; he would never let anyone know that, because that would mean that Xanthe was not the only one exiled, and, as Hermione could see now, marked down for an early death.
It was all so clear. Why else would he act so strangely around her? One minute, he'd be trying to attack her and the next he'd seem submissive and quiet.
What could he be thinking now? He was supposed to murder Ginny, and that must have been hard enough. Hermione could see that his doubts about his family and the Death Eaters had become much stronger. He did not want to murder anyone, and especially not Xanthe.
His sister had offered to help. She told him that he could always turn to her, when she had talked with him the other evening. Draco might turn to them. He might run from all of them. He is a Slytherin, Hermione's mind reasoned. In the end, he will kill them, just to save himself. He knows that it's almost impossible to run from the Death Eaters.
Here she had been thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was actually much better than he seemed. But she had thought that about Snape, too, in the early years at Hogwarts, but look what he had done, how he had betrayed Dumbledore's trust…
Hermione's heart sank. She let herself drop to the floor, heavy with all the stress.
"What am I supposed to do? This is just terrible… I just have to get involved with these things…"
The door abruptly clicked open. Hermione was given such a shock her stomach could've leapt up her throat and slammed back down. She jumped to her feet and looked up into the silvery eyes of Draco.
He sat down in the doorframe and reached out to stroke Hermione's soft chestnut colored fur. "What's the matter, Moggy? I heard you crying."
The only reply from "Moggy" was something between a sigh and a huff. She returned to lying on the carpet, her chin on the top of her paws.
"I wonder where Xanthe is." Hermione's amber eyes gazed at Malfoy again. He was looking off in the distance. "I wonder if she could really help me."
There, you see, the taunting voice of her more reasonable side called in her mind. He knows they'll go after him if he betrays them. He'll do it, he'll kill them…
"I'm going to try," he said. "I'm going to find Xanthe."
Hermione looked up at him, surprised at his decision, but also incredibly relieved. She pushed herself up on her front paws.
"I'll get my stuff and we'll go find her, Moggy. What do you think?" he asked.
"What else do I have to do?" she mewed, not knowing what else to say.
"That's what I thought." He scooped her up and carried her down to his bedroom. He set her on the soft, plush comforter on the four poster, then went around throwing things into a suitcase at random. Erkki stepped in at one point, wringing his hands and looking very nervous.
"Is all well, Master?" he said anxiously. "Mrs. Malfoy looked… erm…"
"Angry, yes, I know," he told him. He grabbed a black traveling cloak from the wardrobe. "It's fine. Now, I'm going on a little vacation."
"Of course, sir," Erkki replied. He did not question him at all. "Everything will be kept in top condition." He departed, leaving Malfoy pause for a minute. He closed the suitcase, picked Hermione up again, and walked out.
As they passed the door to the office, Hermione wriggled in his arms.
"What's the matter?" Malfoy followed her gaze to the door. The faint trace of a smile appeared on his face.
"The book. Of course." He patted Hermione on the head, walking to the office.