Draco had only ever mined the depths of the library once before; only once he had spent hour upon hour – days even – trawling through every book he could find. That time had not been in the best circumstance either – initially he had been trying to find a method of fulfilling the task that the Dark Lord had set him. He knew, if it came to it, that there was the killing curse – but he would have to be in quite close proximity to his target, and with no possible chance of misfire or anyone else getting in the way – if there was any way he could carry out his assigned task without resorting to that, he was willing to give it a try. That was why he had begun his search in the library – and where the concept of the cursed necklace and the poisoned mead had come from. And when neither of them worked, his search within the library had intensified, but it shifted to trying to find a way to get his mother out of the unbreakable vow that she had made with Snape. It had been during that time in his sixth year that he realised how big the Hogwarts library was; and how lonely you could feel when you were in it. Now he was rediscovering the depths of the library, not for any specific reason, but because the library was quiet and private. You could lose yourself in the rows of hundreds of books covering every possible combination of topics and subjects; in here there weren't other students whispering about him – or if they were, Madam Pince silenced them pretty sharpish; in here he could hide. He decided that the time he was spending in the library reading and researching could only be positive for the homework that he had – a little bit of background knowledge could only be a good thing! Before the War, Draco had an idea about what he wanted to do when he left Hogwarts and the War had only confirmed his decision that he was going to do all he could to get into the Healer training programme and qualify as a healer – and that meant getting the best grades it was possible to get in his NEWTs . Draco wasn't unintelligent, he had gotten O's in all of his OWLs apart from Defence against the Dark Arts… That hadn't really been a priority for him at the time – but even then he had only gotten an E. His father had been furious when he received those results; he remembered the way Lucius had made a crumpled line in his parchment as he looked at Draco's results. The happiness that had expanded inside him when he had seen how well he had passed had disappeared as Lucius had very clearly informed him that it wasn't acceptable. He hadn't even tried that hard with his OWLs; he hadn't thought it was actually that important, but his attitude towards his upcoming exams was very different now. So he had taken refuge in the library – he was now spending nearly all of the time that he wasn't in class in the depths of the library; he was there during his lunchtimes and most evenings, which meant that he could avoid the Slytherin common room and the rest of the students.
That was where he was, hunched over in one of the little booths surrounded by several piles of books that he had fished out from their shelves, on a Thursday evening in early November. A bell rung from somewhere behind Draco, he checked the time and saw that it was quarter to eight, and the bell was signifying that the library would be closing in the next fifteen minutes. Slowly Draco closed the books that he had been using and began to place the ones he didn't need back onto their shelves; he could hear movement from in the other rows behind him, all of the other students in the library were clearly packing up and leaving. Draco rolled up the scroll of parchment that he had been writing on and slipped it into his bag, which he slung over his shoulder. He piled the rest of the books that he wanted to check out into his arms and proceeded out of the dark row that he had been hiding in and up to Madam Pince's desk. He stood for a few seconds waiting, she had her back facing him so he made a noise with the pile of books so that she would turn around; it worked, as any small noise was picked up by her super sensitive hearing, her hear whipped round to where Draco was standing.
"Yes?" She asked quickly, her voice was hushed – probably from years of spending most of her time in the library,
"Can I take these books out please?" Draco asked, indicating the pile of books that he had placed on the desk in front of him; she glared suspiciously at him for a few seconds before picking up her quill and flicking open a notebook in which she would write the titles of the books he was taking out.
"Name?" She said tersely, writing out the first title and placing it back down in front of him.
"Draco… uh, Malfoy." He trailed off when he got to his surname.
"What was that?" She repeated, not even batting an eyelid.
"Malfoy." He spoke through gritted teeth, wishing that the old bat would stop staring at him like that, he knew there were still other students in the library, and parading his surname wasn't something he was proud of – he glanced around, but couldn't see any lurking students.
"These must be back by Tuesday." She said sternly, placing the last book upon his pile; he nodded and gathered them into his arms once more. He made his way out into the torch lit corridor and headed towards the staircase that would take him back down to his common room. He hadn't taken more than ten steps when a voice called out from behind him:
"Malfoy!" It was a rough male voice, not issuing from anyone that Draco could recognise just by their voice, so he didn't turn round to face its owner. He kept walking, hoisting the books more securely into his arms. "Oi! Hey, I'm talking to you!" The voice called, and again Draco ignored it and kept walking along the corridor; he could hear footsteps coming from behind him.
"The scum clearly can't hear you." Another voice joined in, jeering; Draco took a breath, his heart began pounding in his chest, and he quickened his pace slightly to get away from the voices that were still calling after him. Without any warning, something hard hit Draco in the square of the back and he stumbled, several of the books in his arms coming close and tumbling down onto the floor. He glanced backwards as he knelt down to pick up the fallen books and saw a group of five boys approaching him quickly; one of them had his wand out and it was pointing at Draco, it must have been him that sent the spell.
"We know you can hear us, scum!" One of the boys spat at Draco, who was still trying to secure the books in his arms as the boys came within reaching distance. Abandoning the use of the wand in his hand, the boy's foot swung out and connected with Draco's shoulder and sending him, and the books he was holding, flying across the floor. Draco's heart was thumping so loudly that he could hear it in his eardrums; he tried to push himself up, still not allowing himself to look at the group of boys who were standing incredibly close to him.
"Are you fucking deaf? We're talking to you!" Draco could hear his breathing ragged as he tried to regain his balance. "Petrificus totalus!" Draco was hit, again, from behind and he felt his limbs snapping together causing him to fall forwards onto his face. "Not so cocky now, are you?" The boy who had hit him with the body bind curse hooked his foot under Draco's shoulder and turned him over onto his back immobile; Draco stared up into the face of the assailants. The two boys that had called after Draco were sneering down at him, disgust wrought across their faces.
"You shouldn't have come back to school, Malfoy." The emphasis and the audible hatred in the boy's voice made Draco want to close his eyes, but he couldn't. "You should have known that you wouldn't have been welcome here, fucking Death Eater scum!" Pain shot through Draco's ribs as someone's foot kicked into him, and it was that kick that opened the floodgates. Draco couldn't even cover his face, protect his hands or even close his eyes – he had to watch as the soles of the boys shoes came down onto his face, smashed into his chest and legs. He might not be able to move, but he could feel the pain shooting from every blow; inside his head he was screaming out – he just wanted them to stop.
"This – is for – my cousin – and my – friends!" The boy standing directly above Draco articulated between kicks. "They – would have – been – alive if – it wasn't – for you – fucking Death Eaters!" This final exclamation was succeeded by the hardest blow that he had yet received; Draco felt something in his chest crack. Draco could understand the boy's fury, he had been a Death Eater – the amount of destruction that had been the result of the side that he had been on; but as he lay there, pain irradiating throughout his whole body, he wished he had his wand in his hand so he could curse them into oblivion. There was a second where Draco thought they were going to stop; the stabbing pains that ran through his chest and abdomen every time he took a breath were at such a peak that he felt sure he was about to pass out. He could hear the boys yelling, but couldn't disentangle one voice from another – let alone comprehend words – it was all just noise, and pain. Suddenly the boy nearest Draco's head brought his foot down forcibly onto Draco's face – reminding Draco of when he had done the same action to Harry Potter several years previous – but this time it was him that was on the receiving end. He felt his nose break, and almost instantly he could feel a gush of warm liquid pouring down the sides of his face. The sensation was enough to turn his stomach, and a black spot began to creep in at the corners of his vision. The last thing he saw was the heads of all the boys turning towards the corridor before everything went black.
"Draco?" A hand was on his wrist, gripping it tight as he regained consciousness. Before he had even opened his eyes an explosion of pain had torn through his entire body; he could hear his breath rattling in his chest, and feel the blood still flowing from his nose, however his limbs seemed to have unfrozen. He opened his eyes slowly, still feeling the woozy sensation swimming around his head; the scared white face of Hermione came into focus, she was peering down into his face, and evidently it was her who was clutching his wrist. "Oh God," Hermione's grip on Draco's wrist was so tight that it was almost vice-like. "Draco? Can you hear me?" Opening his eyes wide he could see a row of boys, the boys that the last time he had his eyes open had been attacking him, were stood with their backs to the corridor wall. Draco began to push himself upright into a sitting position, but the pain that spread through him caused him to gasp. His ribs felt like they had been sheared apart with a separator and as he became upright the blood from his nose began to drip down his face and into his lap. "Oh Christ you're a mess…" Hermione whispered, her eyes widening as she surveyed him, letting go of his wrist so he could stem the flow from his nose.
"I'm alright." Draco's voice came out only in a whisper.
"Like hell you are!" Hermione refuted, she was breathing hard as though enraged. "Don't move, please." She got to her feet rapidly, stepping around where Draco was sat on the ground; she stood in front of the first of the boys, she wasn't as tall as them but her presence somehow seemed bigger. "Now don't even try to defend yourself, it's not going to fly with me! What are your names and houses?"
"Iain Griffiths, Hufflepuff." The first boy answered, he seemed to be inwardly wrestling with resentment.
"Scott Chalmers, Hufflepuff." The second boy, who was staring at his feet, said.
"Dennis, I'm surprised at you – is this what you think it's right to do after Colin fought against this? I can't imagine that he'd be proud of you if he could see what you've done." The blond boy shook his head timidly, but didn't speak.
"Paul Holt, Ravenclaw." The fourth boy had his arms crossed over his chest and was looking defiant.
"Nathan Sinclair, Ravenclaw." The last boy said.
"We're going to see your heads of houses right now!" Hermione demanded; she turned her back upon them swiftly to face Draco once more, she knelt down beside him. "Do you think you're able to stand up, or do you need a hand?" She offered her hand out; Draco paused for a second before taking her hands. As she helped him upright the areas of his body which had been struck during the attack became painfully aware; the pain in his ribs was the most profound over anything else. "Follow me." She barked over her shoulder at the boys still lined up at the wall; they moved rather reluctantly, following behind Draco and Hermione.
"Oh Draco, are you in a lot of pain?" She asked her voice low to avoid the boys behind hearing her. Draco shook his head quickly, but at the same time his ribs gave a painful twinge.
"Please, I just want to go back to my dormitory." He pleaded.
"You need to get checked over and cleaned up first." She exclaimed; Draco knew that he must look in an awful state, but he didn't want to have to go to the hospital wing, he didn't want Madam Pomfrey to check him over. "I'm not letting you go back to your dormitory without speaking to the heads of houses."
"Which one?" Draco felt his heart thumping in his throat, and he wasn't sure whether that was from the thought of facing the heads of houses or from the aftermath of the attack.
"All of them if necessary, Professor McGonagall at the least…" Hermione stopped before the entrance to the headmistress' office, she helped Draco onto the moving staircase and when it reached the door with the brass griffin knocker, she reached out, knocked and waited.
"Come in?" Professor McGonagall's voice rung out from behind the door; Hermione turned to the boys and instructed:
"Wait here." She opened the door and stepped inside. "Sorry to bother you Professor McGonagall, I've just come across a situation and I needed to bring it to your, Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick's attention." Professor McGonagall was sitting at her desk in the middle of her office and she had looked up to see Hermione enter.
"What situation?" She asked; as an answer, Hermione, opened the door and beckoned Draco inside. The reaction of Professor McGonagall was abrupt; she rose and swept around the edge of her desk. "What happened?" She asked with a resounding urgency, looking Draco up and down, instantly she led him forwards and made him sit down in one of her chairs; she looked from Draco – beaten up, bruised and still bleeding – to Hermione.
"I found – I caught a group of boys in the library corridor, and they were – they…" Hermione struggled to say what they had been doing to Draco; there was a lump in her throat as she looked at Draco – who was staring at the floor.
"Do you know who the boys were?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Yes." Hermione answered quickly. "They're outside."
"Outside?" She replied, glancing to the door of her office.
"I caught them, while they were in the act, so I brought them along…" Hermione explained, "I didn't know what else to do with them – I didn't want to take them to each of their heads of houses individually and have to explain several times."
"Right, thank you Miss. Granger." Professor McGonagall nodded, "Can you tell me what happened Mr. Malfoy?" She asked, looking back down at Draco – who was holding one hand to his ribcage, his pale face now as white as chalk and he was visibly trembling.
"I was just coming out of the library, and…" Draco's voice was weak – the audible waver in his voice matched the way he was shaking. "I don't know, I just want to go back to my dormitory – please." The blood that was drying on his face made it look like he had been slashed across the face with a knife and his nose appeared broken.
"Goodness gracious no!" Professor McGonagall had turned towards her fire place. "Once Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick have seen you, Miss. Granger will help you to the hospital wing." From a box upon the mantelpiece she took some floo powder which she threw into the fire and spoke into the flames: "Filius, Pomona, I need to speak to you." Only a few seconds passed before a figure began to appear in the fireplace, and Professor Flitwick stepped out over the grate, followed by Professor Sprout. "Miss. Granger has just brought Mr. Malfoy after catching a group of students from our houses who have, well…" Professor McGonagall waved her hand to indicate Draco sitting on the chair in the middle of the office.
"Good Lord," Professor Sprout exclaimed at the sight of Draco.
"Miss. Granger has escorted the boys to us so we can deal with them." Professor McGonagall responded; Draco had sunk his head into one of his hands, the other hand was wrapped across his chest supporting his painful ribcage. "Miss. Granger, could you help Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing?"
"Yes, of course!" Hermione agreed.
"Could you also send the group of boys in on your way out?" Professor McGonagall asked; Draco was pushing himself up from the chair he was in, grimacing in pain. Hermione opened the door, the group of boys had congregated in a huddle, but they scuttled apart as the door opened.
"Inside please." She spoke to them, and they filtered past her, pointedly not looking at Draco as they passed. Hermione closed the door behind Draco, and stood for a few seconds looking at Draco who was looking at the floor. "Come on Draco," She reached out one hand and gently took hold of his elbow, aware that he was in a great deal of pain and not wanting to add to that. Hermione led him down the stairs, but when they reached the corridor at the bottom of the staircase Draco stopped abruptly.
"I'm not going to the hospital wing." He stated shortly. "I don't want to, I'm not."
A/N: Thank you so much for reading so far, I hope you're enjoying this - and I'd love to know what you think about this chapter/story! :)