Disclaimer: Let's just say that if I owned Harry Potter, Draco would see 'the light', fight for the Order, get the girl (Hermione), and have unnaturally beautiful children.
**Special thanks to: Jay Desi, evillizzy89, Hanna28, Elizabeth Odessky, Dimmie, hsmprincess, Kat Eyes 17, ..Punk., jdeppgirl4, Blue-Stardust, Maria, sarahyyy, BlakValentyne-U69, mahalo4ursupport, ThEnAmEsGiGi, and Hotkat144, and anyone else that reviewed that I may have missed.
Chapter 2: Chåteau de Noir
Breathing heavily and slinging Hermione Granger's limp body over my back, I stumbled up the dirt lane of Château de Noir. Apparation wards are such a pain at times.
Cygnus and Druella Black, my mother's parents, had left me the grand house in the south of France. I had never seen a use for it- until now.
I'd only ever been to the château once, right after I had been given the key. I shuddered, remembering the day I'd received the key.
It had been Christmas vacation of my second year, and my Grandmother Black was on her death bed.
I didn't particularly care. I saw her about once a year, and she wasn't exactly the nurturing, grandmotherly type. What do you expect though, when your name is Druella?
Mother insisted though that I visit her one last, terrifying time.
Okay, I admit... she agreed to buy me the racing broom I wanted, but that is completely irrelevant.
That's how I ended up spending my Christmas Eve. In a stuffy St. Mungo's room with that old bint. I knew the only reason Mother had come was to ensure she'd be getting more inheritance than Bellatrix.
We're such a loving, close-knit family.
"Draco," 'Grandma' rasped as I slouched, bored out of my mind, in my chair. "Sit up straight! Slouching is for Mudbloods."
The woman was dying, and still she babbled on about blood. I rolled my silver eyes, but obeyed.
She was eyeing me, as if I was an object being inspected. "Do you know what you're doing with your life, Draco?"
I stirred uncomfortably in my seat. Did she not realize that I was 12? "Well," I said looking anxiously at my mother. She narrowed her blue eyes, glaring at me in a don't-mess-this-up-for-me way. "I... I plan on following in Father's footsteps," I gulped.
Druella's sneering face evened out, satisfied at my answer. "You plan on serving the Dark Lord then?"
"Of course... As soon as I am of age," I replied. That would be the end of my life.
"Very good." She turned to Mother. "You and Lucius have taught him well, Narcissa."
My mother's face remained impassive, but I knew I had pleased her. She would get her precious money.
Druella snapped her fingers, and a house elf quickly appeared with a 'pop'. "Mistress Black," the creature squeaked, bowing until his nose touched the floor.
"Take Narcissa back to the Manor. See to it she receives what we discussed the other day," Druella drawled.
"Of course Mistress Black. Kimar would be delighted to take Mistress Malfoy," the elf said.
Mother looked slightly offended that she was being escorted by a house elf, but greed won out. She stood from her chair, dusted her robes off in an arrogant matter and replied, "Goodbye Mother." There was no sorrow in her voice, not even a hint. "Draco," she said turning to me, "I'll send an elf for you."
I frowned, but shrugged my distaste off. I would not be like my mother.
Mother then looked to the elf who had his wrinkled hand held out. She tilted her head up a fraction of an inch- literally sticking her nose up at him. "I'll be in the foyer," she spat at him rudely, then dis-apparated away.
The elf gave a sad sigh, bowed to Druella, then 'popped' away too.
Druella grinned- which was actually a smirk- at me. " I have a gift for you too, Draco."
I cocked an eyebrow, slightly interested.
She didn't do anything for a couple minutes, only staring at me in that creepy way of hers. "Well," she prompted, "Don't you have any manners?"
Embarrassed, I sat up straighter. "A gift is not necessary, Grandmather Black," I said in the 'pureblood' voice I'd been taught.
She nodded, then said, "Of course it's necessary." Druella reached to her bedside table, lifting a fancy, wood box off the surface.
She handed it to me. I did not open it. Proper etiquette and all. Shite, if you ask me.
"You are lucky, Draco. You were born into a world of perfection. Do not taint everything your ancestors have worked so hard to maintain," she stated coldly, her crystal eyes locking on mine. It was like... she knew.
I fidgeted nervously, looking away from her and towards the door. How could I escape?
"Some things, some people... are not worth it, no matter what you may think at the time. Now go," she said rather impolitely. "I'm quite tired."
I didn't need to be told twice.
Now, looking at it after so many years, I realized it truly was a gorgeous place. Unlike Malfoy Manor which was cold and uninviting, the château was spectacular. It seemed to seep out a welcoming feeling, drawing you in to its beauty and majesty, whereas the manor you ran screaming from its icy aura.
Despite having been empty for years, my chåteau appeared perfectly kept. Stunning, brightly coloured flowers and large, flowing fountains surrounded the grounds. I knew that the inside would be just as immaculate.
Even as a twelve year old I'd had the good sense to keep Druella's gift a secret. I'd placed special charms on the chåteau to ensure its upkeep. I always have rivaled Granger in school, which people tend to forget.
At last, I reached the heavy wooden front door. I panicked slightly for a minute, Did I have the key?
A little on the frantic side, I fumbled through the pockets of my robes searching for the sacred pouch. Finally, my fingers connected with the small yet bottomless, silk bag that held more money than the Weasley's would ever see in a lifetime, several keys, and some other objects I deemed useful.
Thank Merlin. I unlocked the door, slammed it closed behind me, and laid Hermione down on the elegant, wood floor.
She seemed to be in a dazed confusion. Her eyes were half way shut, her forehead clammy, and her entire body seemed to be trembling slightly. Her thoughts had to be scrambled- I mean Draco Malfoy, one of the sexiest men alive, had just rescued her. Bring on the thank you sex.
"Granger," I said quietly, kneeling to her side. "How are you feeling?" It was a stupid question. I knew from personal experience what being tortured was like.
The after effects of torture were, in my opinion, just as bad as the actual torture. Not only did every muscle in your entire body scream in pain, but you could barely move or think from exhaustion. It felt as if life had been seared out of you, and what little was left could only register the constant tormenting pain.
She didn't answer, just looked up at me as if I was slightly looney myself. I was most definitely not getting thank you sex.
I simply stared down at her, completely lost. What had I done? What the hell was I going to do?
I could imagine what my family was doing, many miles away in England. Undoubtedly, they were bad. Merlin forbid they found me... Impossible, I reassured myself. Only I knew where this place was.
But what if--
Startling me from my terrifying thoughts, one, ice cold hand suddenly clutched my own. I stared dubiously down at it. Hermione Granger was holding my hand. This is... different.
Slowly, she weakly pulled me down to lay on the wood floor beside her.
My heart—damn thing that had gotten me into this mess—raced at the sudden proximity.
"Cold," she mumbled, tugging at my robes, bringing me even closer. "I'm so... cold."
I took several breaths, calming myself. Her face was only inches from mine, and I could see deep into her chocolate eyes. They were filled with so much pain and uncertainty.
I'd never been so close to her. It was unnerving, even if she was in a delirious state.
I couldn't resist letting my arms lightly wrap around her. When else would I have the opportunity?
Gradually, her eyes closed, exhaustion taking over. I breathed in, smelling her wonderful scent.
I knew what I should have done.
I should have disentangled myself from her broken body and formed a plan. I should have considered everything that we—because that's what we were now we, me and Granger—would need.
I should have atleast found us a bed to lay in.
But I didn't.
Instead, I, Draco Malfoy, slept with Hermione "Mudblood" Granger. On the wooden floor. In a chåteau in France.
Bloody hell.
A/N: Hope you all enjoyed the flashbacks. I have always thought that Draco must have a very interesting past so I'll be continuing to delve back into it. He's such an intriguing character.
Let me know what you think, I really appreciate it.
Also... I need your opinions! Should I continue writing in Draco's point of view, or switch it up a bit?
~Chelsae
