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Chapter III: Breakfast with a Malfoy

Harry and Ron had retreated to their rooms shortly after the vow had been made. Draco had spent the past fifteen minutes outside checking on the wards and adding even stronger ones. Hermione was left alone at the kitchen table, with cold coffee, staring at her arm.

It had stopped bleeding now but the wounds were still there, screaming Mudblood at her. Hermione felt tears come to her eyes and she left them fall, sliding down her cheeks. She probably should have cast some spells on it but she just couldn't tear her eyes away from it.

She was branded. Who she was, was branded in the worst possible way on the delicate skin of her arm. Scarred and branded Mudblood for everyone to see. To remind her. She brushed her tears away angrily and jumped at a small sound at the door.

Draco was standing there awkwardly, watching her. Hermione sighed and banished the cold coffee with a flick of her wand into the sink.

"Have you put anything on it?" Draco asked her quietly, after a moment of tense silence between them. Hermione shook her head. Draco took the seat next to her and reached out for her arm. Instinctively Hermione moved her arm away and Draco looked at her.

"You still don't trust me?" He asked. Hermione glared at him.

"Well, this time yesterday you were a renowned Death Eater, so forgive me for not warming up to you." She snapped, her words dripping with sarcasm.

"I pledged my alliance. I break it and I die. What more proof that I am no longer on the dark side do you need?" Draco breathed in slowly, trying to control all his pent up rage. Calmly, he ordered. "Let me see your arm."

Reluctantly, Hermione moved her arm towards him. Tenderly, Draco picked it up with his fingers, resting it on the palm of his hand. His fingers were warm and tense, to Hermione's surprise. She had expected them to be as cold as his eyes.

Draco removed his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the disgusting word etched into her skin;

"Episkey."

The wounds slowly closed up before bursting again, blood literally exploding out of the letters. The spell should have healed her wounds, but instead they'd done the exact opposite. Hermione shrieked in alarm and tried to stand up in panic, but Draco firmly held her arm down on the table.

"Don't move." He ordered and she glared at him before sitting back down.

"Well the hell did you do?"

"Bellatrix's knife must have been charmed to harness her Dark Magic. I cannot heal it." Draco muttered to himself, examining her arm from every angle.

"Scourgify."

The blood disappeared. Draco sighed.

"I don't know what to do." He admitted. Hermione groaned. "They're going to scar."

Hermione moved her arm away and rolled her sleeve back down to her wrist, hiding it. There was another awkward pause before Hermione looked up at him.

"Why are you helping us?" She whispered. Draco drummed his fingers on the table absent-mindedly, not looking at her.

"I have to." Draco replied simply, and Hermione felt the subject close. She stood up defeated and left the room silently.

xxx

The next morning Harry woke early and trudged down to the kitchen, in serious need of a cuppa tea. He sleepily walked over to the kettle, poured the hot water into the mug which sloshed over the side and onto the counter top. He threw a teabag in and four sugars and turned around to sit at the table.

Harry jumped back in shock, nearly dropping his mug of tea and drew his wand, fully awake now.

"Relax Potter, I saved your ass, made an Unbreakable Vow..blah blah.." Draco drawled, not moving his eyes away from the Daily Prophet in his hands. Harry spluttered over his words.

"H-how did you get that newspaper!" Harry asked heatedly, pointing his wand at the newspaper, which in Harry's panic had erupted a flame. It caught fire to the corner of the newspaper. Draco nonchalantly extinguished it with his thumb.

"Owls, Potter. You know, those big nocturnal birds that deliver us our mail." Draco rolled his eyes.

"You can't get the Daily Prophet delivered here!" Harry cried.

"Why not?" Draco looked up at him, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Because! The mail is being monitored, the ministry was infiltrated." Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really Malfoy, you should know all about that, seeing as it was your bloody friends who did it."

"Friends, Potter? You think I was friends with those foul wizards?" Draco's expression darkened alarmingly, and Harry took a smart step back.

"Morning, Harry." Ron said sleepily as he entered the kitchen, blatantly ignoring Draco.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked as he sat opposite Draco and poured milk in his tea.

"In bed, I think. She had a rough day yesterday." Ron sighed and made himself some toast.

"I hope she's okay." Harry said, swirling his tea around and around with a spoon.

"She was tortured, she's going to need a few days rest." Draco said, looking up from the newspaper. He picked up a piece of his own toast and nibbled on it. Ron pretended not to hear him.

"Say, anything interesting in the newspaper?" Harry asked, watching as Draco resumed his reading.

"Besides a certain young Malfoy killing a certain psychotic Lestrange, there's nothing interesting in here."

"That made the newspaper, already?" Harry shook his head. He wouldn't be surprised if it was because Rita Skeeter had been a fly on the wall again.

"What made the newspaper already?" Hermione asked from the doorway, having finally gotten out of bed. She was dressed in plan blue jeans and a tight fitting top. Hermione yawned and joined them at the table.

"Malfoy killing Lestrange." Ron said, indicating to the front cover, as Draco held the paper up to show them. There was a picture of Draco on the front from sixth year in his black, emerald and silver Slytherin robes.

"That's just fantastic. Now everyone's going to be looking for you." Hermione shook her head as she stole one of Ron's pieces of toast.

"Hermione, get your own!" Ron picked up the remaining slice guardedly. Harry watched as Draco watched the playful scene unfolding in front of him. Hermione stuck her tongue out at Ron.

"How are you feeling this morning, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Better. My arm still hurts though." Hermione took a swig of Harry's tea. "Ugh, too much sugar."

"I told you to take Skelegrow." Draco said pointedly, going back to reading the newspaper.

"I don't think we have any." Hermione glanced down at her arm.

"What, it's not in that magical bag of yours?" Harry grinned at Hermione.

"There's some in the bathroom cabinet." Ron replied. "I saw it in there this morning."

"Thanks for bringing it to me then, Ronald." Hermione scolded. Ron winced at her use of his full name.

"Yeah, Ronald." Harry smirked, earning a sharp kick to the shin from Ron under the table. "Ow!"

"So, what's the plan of action for today?" Hermione asked seemingly oblivious to what was happening under the table, spreading strawberry jam on her toast. She took a big bite and relished the taste of proper food after being on the run for months.

"Not sure." Harry said seriously.

"Can I read the newspaper after you, Malfoy?" Hermione asked. Draco nodded, looking paler than usual all of a sudden, before folding it up and handing it to her.

"Sick of reading it anyway." Draco mumbled before heading upstairs. The golden trio watched him leave the kitchen.

"This is all too weird. We just watched Draco Malfoy walk out of Bill and Fleur's kitchen." Ron muttered, picking up his juice. "And we had breakfast with him! If someone told me two months ago I'd be sitting here eating toast with that slimy git, I'd have sent them to St Mungo's."

"It's going to take some getting used to." Hermione shrugged, opening the newspaper. Hermione thought of something before she had the chance to read. She glanced at Harry who was sipping his tea thoughtfully.

"Harry?"

"Mhm?"

"What happened to you while I was being tortured?" She asked. Harry smiled widely at her.

"We saved Mr. Ollivander and Luna and the goblin from Gringotts."

"Mr. Ollivander and Luna?" Hermione looked at Harry confused.

"Yeah, they were down there. We managed to knock Wormtail out then Dobby came and he disapparated them to the Burrow." Ron shrugged. Hermione stared wide eyed.

"They're safe?"

"Of course."

There was an odd silence.

"What happened to the Sword of Gryffindor?" Hermione struggled to remember whether someone had picked it up. Harry looked down at his hands, as if expecting the sword to be in them.

"I'm not sure. We don't have it."

"I suspect Voldemort has it now." Hermione sighed.

"Voldemort?" Ron enquired.

"Yeah, he came just as Malfoy disapparated me here." Hermione flicked the page of the newspaper. "A Death Eater stunned me."

"I find it a hard concept to wrap my head around, that a Death Eater simply stunned you?" Harry shook his head, perplexed.

"Maybe it was Snape?" Ron piped up. Hermione scoffed. "No seriously, Mione, it makes sense. He couldn't have cast the killing curse in fear of hitting Malfoy."

Harry and Hermione stared at Ron like he'd grown two heads.

"I suppose it's a possibility. Malfoy is Snape's godson, after all."

"Since when did you get wise?" Harry cracked a grin at his red headed friend.

"Since we almost died last night." Ron rubbed his face with his palm.

Hermione resumed reading Draco's newspaper and nearly fell off her chair in shock. She drew out a long gasp, gaining two perplexed expressions of Harry and Ron.

"Oh my god." Hermione re-read it again before glancing at the doorway. "That's why he left so abruptly." She whispered to herself.

"What does it say?" Harry leant over the table to get a look at the newspaper. Hermione paled.

"Voldemort killed his parents."