Chapter 3: Tell me

When Draco woke up the following morning, he saw his room filled with sunlight, he heard the birds chirping outside his window, and he embraced the smell of food coming from the kitchens. Mornings were his favourite part of the day, because for a few seconds, none of the cruelty in the world existed. For a few seconds every day, he was at ease with himself. And that was right before his conscience came back in full extent, and slapped him hard in the face.

On this day, the first thing that jumped to his mind was Hermione. What had he done? What had he been thinking? Imprisoning Hermione? Throwing her in a cell no one could enter but himself, and… Caring for her? Oh, he was going to lose his head for doing this. And if it wasn't a blow coming from the Dark Lord, it would be coming from her, no doubt.

With that in mind, he quickly dressed up and headed towards the kitchens. He sure wasn't going to figure out what do to with an empty stomach. As he opened the double doors of the kitchen, he felt like a child bursting through the doors of a toy store. Malfoy Manor was no five-star hotel for all his residents, but it sure as hell had great food.

He picked up a few pancakes which he soaked with maple syrup and some fruits, and he sat down on a stool far away from the other present Death Eaters. He didn't mingle with them, because, in his eyes, they were a bunch of rambling idiots. However, they thought his coldness towards them was to be feared.

As he was eating his pancakes and watching the house-elves actively prepare enormous quantities of food, his eyes fell upon a smaller female house-elf. He had seen her a couple of times in his room as she tidily folded and placed his newly washed clothes. He quickly gobbled up the leftovers of his pancake, stood up, and started walking towards the house-elf.

As he stood right next to her, the whole room went silent, as if even the walls were curious to hear what words would be pronounced by Draco Malfoy.

"Your name?" demanded Draco as he pointed the little house-elf.

"Master Malfoy, my name is Laffy," answered very quietly the elf. She had always done her best to serve the Malfoys. She didn't quite understand why she would be personally called up by one of her masters, and she was quite frightened by how the events could turn out.

"You are the creature that cleans my room. Am I mistaken?" asked Draco in a tone which could be interpreted as disgust to be speaking to such a low form of life.

"Y-yes, master. W-would you want Laffy to go clean up something?" responded Laffy, her little voice trembling. Her eyes were getting watery even though she was trying with all her might not to show any sign of fright.

"Yes, actually. You see, I wanted to take a black shirt this morning, but they were all wrinkled," replied Draco. As he finished speaking, he heard her exhale and restart breathing normally, and it pained him inside to be reminded that he represented such strong terror. Usually, that little guilty feeling vanished during the day as he had to endure the presence of more and more idiots.

"I will immediately fix that, master," blurted Laffy right before she disappeared as a faint pop was heard.

As Draco turned around to leave the kitchens, he saw the elves hurrying up to clean up his plate that he had left in front of the stool he had just sat on. He then quickly directed himself towards his bedroom.

As Draco entered his room, he saw the little house-elf jump.

"Oh! Master, you surprised me. Pardon me for being so jumpy. I am going to clean all your shirts, and then, I will air dry them, and after that, I will fold them in a way that will eliminate all wrinkles. You shall nevermore see wrinkles in your clothes from this day on. I promise you," said Laffy at an unbridled pace.

"Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. I'm not going to harm you, and I apologize if I have frightened you in any way," began Draco.

"Oh! No! No! Do not worry, master. I am fine, and I will do what you have asked me to," replied Laffy, clearly relieved that he wasn't going to fry her on the spot.

Draco then turned around to place a silencing spell on the room, "I need you to do something for me. Don't worry! It doesn't involve anything mean or bad. Actually, it might be the nicest thing I've ever done, but I need help. You see, I put a young girl in one of the cells in the basement. As a matter of fact, I placed her in the last cell… And… I know there's been some terrible things that have happened in there… So, I would be very grateful if that cell was cleaned for her."

"Of course, master! I will clean it after I am finished with your shirts!" exclaimed Laffy.

"The shirts are fine, Laffy. You don't need to clean them. I just needed to find a way to talk to you privately, and I couldn't raise suspicion," explained Draco.

"Oh! Then, I will go clean the last cell immediately, master!" announced Laffy.

"Wait! Promise me that no one will know about this. This is serious. There will come a time when her presence will be known, but until then, I need you to stay silent. And please, do not raise suspicion!" added Draco, visibly a little stressed about the whole situation.

"You have my word, master!" said Laffy as she disappeared from the room.

Draco then took a deep breath before walking up to his bed. He bent down on his knees and snuck his head under the bed. He then proceeded to open the trapdoor located under his bed. He decided he was going to work a little on some potions before he pays Hermione a visit.

Draco loved potion brewing. Many of the kids at Hogwarts believed the reason why he performed so well in potions was because he was the teacher's favourite student… or the only liked student of the class. But in all honesty, he found potion brewing extremely exciting. He loved the way that mixing strange ingredients lead to some modification of the body. And he actually loved it so much, that he never saw time pass by while he was going at it.

When Draco finally got out of his little secret laboratory, the sun was about to disappear. He took a glass of water before heading towards Hermione's cell. He had no clue what to expect, and he feared a little what would happen, with reason.

Draco was expecting to see Hermione when he opened the door, but when he did, he didn't see her. He heard scrubbing, and he saw Laffy in a corner of the cell probably trying to make a bloodstain disappear.

He closed the door, turned to Laffy, and asked, "Where is she?" If Laffy had somehow gotten Hermione out of the cell, the whole world was going to turn bananas.

"Behind the table, master," answered Laffy not daring to rest from her scrubbing, even though Draco clearly wasn't the cold man she thought he was this morning, "Though, she doesn't seem very… present."

Draco walked to the other side of the table, and saw her. She had her knees up to her chin, and though her eyes were opened, she didn't look like she was seeing anything.

"Uh, Hermione…" called out Draco.

Hermione had no visible reaction, so he snapped his fingers and called her name again. And he still couldn't get a reaction. He then bent down and gently shook her shoulders a little. To this, she blinked in confusion.

"Hermione? Hey, look at me," said Draco slowly, not wanting to destabilize her.

She didn't look at him, but spoke three words, barely audible, "Draco, what happened?"

"Uh, I think you zoned out for some time…" answered Draco.

"No! No! No! Before… I mean, yesterday, I think," whispered Hermione while rubbing her forehead with the back of her right hand.

"Well some Death Eaters brought you to the manor after you've been caught, and then I took you apart from the group you were in, placed you in this room, and cleaned you up," explained Draco.

"No! I mean, before that! Before I was brought into the manor. Please, tell me. Tell me it's not true," ordered Hermione.

"Tell you what is not true? What do you want me to tell you? I don't know how you've been captured. You haven't told me," replied Draco, confused by the way Hermione was acting.

"Not how I've been captured. It was before that," said Hermione, her voice gaining strength.

"Before you were captured? I don't know what happened, I already told you… The only thing I could presume is that you either enjoyed a mud bath… Or fell into some mud… Seeing you right now makes me think it's the latter," said Draco, attempting to lighten up the atmosphere.

"Before I fell into the mud! Tell me he didn't die!" shouted Hermione.

"He? Who's He?" asked Draco.

"Tell me I didn't kill him. Tell me, Draco, tell me!" pleaded Hermione.

"Kill who? Hermione, I'm not sure I underst-" started Draco.

"Tell me Ron Weasley is still living. Tell me he is well. Tell me he is safe. Tell me he will be coming to get me out of here. Tell me that he loves me as much as I love him. Tell me that his death is a lie. I need you to tell me," sobbed Hermione, finally looking straight into Draco's eyes, but wishing they weren't grey.

"Hermione… I don't know what to say… I'm really sorry… I didn't know…" admitted Draco.

"Please… Please…. Please…. Tell me…" begged Hermione as her sobs continued.

"Hermione, I can't tell you what you want to hear. I won't lie to you. What is done is done, you can't spend the rest of your life torturing your mind with 'What Ifs'. You need to let go," tried explaining Draco.

"Easy for you to say! You know nothing about loss! You provoke loss, but don't feel it! You spread destruction across this country the way you spread cologne on yourself in the morning! Because even when you're out of sight, your smell lingers everywhere you've passed!" spit out Hermione.

"You are wrong on so many levels, Granger. You have no clue how much I've lost," said Draco through gritted teeth, trying not to explode.

"What did the Oh-So-Great-Malfoy lose? A couple of galleons? A million galleons, perhaps? Grow up Malfoy. That doesn't count as a loss," mocked Hermione.

"What's loss for you, huh? Is it when a parent sees the corpse of their child? When two lovers are separated? Are those the only two scenarios in your head? I see loss every single day when families are decimated, when children say goodnight to their parents for the last time, when men and women sacrifice themselves to give others a chance to live … And I feel their desperation. But the one time I've felt loss first-hand, was when my mother was taken from me. Would you say that a child finding the ripped body of their parent is a type of loss? Or does that not count since I'm the Oh-So-Terrifying-Malfoy? Please, Granger. If someone's new to loss, that would be you," said Draco as calmly as possible before he stormed out of her cell.

Losing someone is never easy, but that doesn't mean you have the right to downright disrespect anyone trying to somewhat help.