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Chapter 23: Death of a Death Eater

Things have settled into a quiet routine over the first week in the Black house. Mrs. Malfoy was still refusing to eat meals with the rest of the house, but Ron had joined by dinner on the third day. While there were not any arguments between the occupants, glares were frequent between Draco and Ron. Luna stating that they would need to wait three weeks before we started planning left little else to do. Kreature and Luna seemed to be the only ones at ease in the current predicament.

The quiet dinner is interrupted by a shriek from upstairs. Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione rush up to Mrs. Malfoy's room. The window in her room in open, an owl just visible flying away. Mrs. Malfoy sits in a heap on the floor, sobbing. Scattered around her are various moving pictures.

Each picture shows Lucius Malfoy in different moments of torture, both spell induced and physically disabling. The amount of pain screams from the picture even in its silence. Mrs. Malfoy holds one last picture in her hands. This one doesn't move. It is simply Mr. Malfoy dead, in pieces.

With a simple wave of his wand, Draco silently vanishes the photos. He drops to his knees and places an arm around the woman.

"Shh, it's okay," he whispers. For a moment she allows it, taking comfort. Then, with a snarl, she pushes him away and stands.

"This is your fault, Draco," she screeches. "It is all your fault he is dead. How could you? Your own father?"

"Spare me," Draco snaps back, standing as well. "Please Mother, tell me that that house is not a graveyard. How if we had gone back death wouldn't have been our reward. Perhaps it would come quick in a flash of green light. Or maybe slowly, dying a bit every day. Forgive me for not wanting to watch your grey eyes turn flat and empty again. A dementor may be faster but the result is the same either way."

"If you really believe that then why not bring your Father?" Narcissa advances. "Why leave him to an unkind death?" A cold laugh echoes around the room.

"That bastard would not have come if you begged him. He would have turned us over to the dark lord and watched as we were tortured for information before we were fed to that bloody snake. Hold no delusions, Mother, that misplaced loyalty you hold for him was not returned." With a swish of fabric, Draco leaves the room.

It takes a moment before anyone moves or thinks. When the spell is broken, Hermione sprints after the man.

"Leave me," Mrs. Malfoy snaps at the wizards. The boys hurry to leave her alone. Hermione catches up with Draco, stalking towards his room, at the door.

"Wait," she huffs, slightly out of breath. He turns to her slowly.

"Hermione, I-" he starts.

"Don't shut me out," she whispers. The pain in his eyes breaks her heart. He opens the door and leaves it wide, letting her in first.

Once alone in the dim room, Hermione walks to his side and wrap her arms around his waist. His arms fall around her, holding her tightly. She can feel each shuddered breaths moving through his chest. He pulls back slightly and puts a hand on either side of her face. His stormy eyes are conflicted as he stares into hers.

"I'm not brave," he whispers. She doesn't respond. He keeps eyes contact as he steps forward, pushing her back until her back is against the wall.

"I'm not brave enough," he whispers once more. His breath heats her face. "Do you understand?" Hermione shakes her head a much as she can with his hands still on her face. Draco heaves a sigh and swallows.

"There was only one way I knew to chase the demons away in the last war. It was only for a moment, but it was all I had. I...I need a moment," he says, eyes willing her to understand. It clicks in her head and her lungs freeze. He can't mean…

"Draco, I...I can't be a...erm...quick shag," she stutters. "I just…" Draco steps away.

"I understand," he says, the mask slipping into place.

"Draco," she says and reaches for him. His mask wavers but he stay far enough she can't touch him.

"I just want to be alone," he says stiffly.

"But…"

"Please." Hermione lets her hand fall to her side and nods. Walking slowly to the door, she turn once her hand touches the handle. He's looking away, the pain barely hidden, but still there. Hermione slips out of the door, closing it silently.

Once it had clicked shut there was a loud crash and a scream before everything went silent. Hermione tries the doorknob and it's locked.

"Alohomora," she says with her wand in her hand. The door doesn't budge. She kicks it in frustration with no response. The silence is troubling, less quiet and more absence of all sound, a silencing spell. She steps back.

"Confringo," she shouts, the door is blasted inward off the hinges. A swish and flick and the door hovers where it is as she walks in. Hermione places the door back in a place and mutters a repairing spell before turning back to the room.

Draco is panting surrounded by overturned furniture in varying states of disarray and brokenness.

"Reparo Maxima," she calls out to the room. The items repair themselves and return to the original placement. Draco watches her, panting slower. He looks wary with hunched shoulders and wild eyes.

"I believe you made yourself clear before, Granger," Draco says, pulling himself up to stand straight.

"I would have if you didn't throw me out," she snaps back. "And when did we go back to Granger?" He sighs.

"Please, Hermione, I just need to be alone right now."

"Well that's too bad," she says, taking steps to him. "Because I don't want to leave you alone." She slips her arms around him and rests her head against his chest. He holds her tight for a moment, then tries to push her away.

"I can't right now," he says. Hermione steps back.

"You can't what?" she asks, with more snap to her tone than she means.

"I can't be this close to you, not right now."

"Why?"

"I made it through the war doing things I'm not proud of," he snaps suddenly, hands diving into his hair. "I've made peace with it because I was trying to survive and to stay sane. Now you stand there and it feels just like before, but I can't have you. I can't touch you. So I can't stand to have you here and watch me, and to still feel cold."

The pain is evident in every strained muscle. Hermione wants it to go away. She wants to see him smirk and roll his eyes and to banter back and forth. She remembers the haunted look in his eye when he went back to his bed after waking her from her nightmare. She remembers the soft way in which he touched her and healed her injuries. She remembers passionate debates and quiet evenings looking at the stars.

Hermione snakes her hands around his neck, stepping onto the tips of her toes to crush her lips to his. His hands, one on her back holding her to him and the other in her hair, are there immediately. He deepens the kiss, trying to drink her in. Hermione places both of her hands on his chest and push him back. She stumbles slightly when he releases her.

"I won't be a quick shag," she tells him seriously, "but the doesn't mean I want to only be friends. Are you sure that's what you want? All of me?" Her voices shakes slightly at the end. The pixies in her stomach doing flips and making her hands quake softly. Draco stalks towards her.

"I want you, Hermione Jean Granger," he whispers before kissing her again. He pushes her until they both stumble onto the bed without breaking the kiss. Hermione pulls her lips away.

"Not tonight," she whispers anxiously. Snuggling into his side. "I just want to be here for you."

"Okay," he replies, pulling her closer in his arms and breathing her in. "Sleep."

"Ron, don't," Harry whispers harshly.

"Ge'off me," Ron snaps back loudly. The door bangs open, Harry curses not so softly as he trails after Ron into the room.

"Not having relations with anyone, eh?" Ron yells at Hermione. The witch in question blinks several time through the confusion.

"What are you…" her voice trails away as her eyes glance around the room that is obviously not hers.

"Get. Out," Draco barks out from beside her on the bed, arm still draped over her stomach. With sleepiness still clouding his eyes, the arm around her tightens and pulls her closer.

"What the bloody hell are you playing at, Malfoy?" Ron shouts.

"I would like to know that as well," comes the cold voice of Mrs. Malfoy from the doorway. Draco growls.

"Everyone, just get the hell out of my room," Draco yells. "I'm going back to sleep." He snuggles his head into the crook of Hermione's neck, making it clear he didn't want her to go anywhere. Despite the obvious display of going back to sleep, she could feel his muscles still strung tight.

"We need to discuss this...development," Mrs. Malfoy sneers.

"Yes," Ron agrees. The woman turn her nose up at Ron.

"It's a family matter," she replies shortly.

"Com'on 'Mione," Ron says, holding a hand out to her. The rumbling in Draco's chest may not be auditable, but she could feel it, his arm around her waist tightening. Hermione narrows her eyes at her red-headed friend.

"I believe Draco request that you left his room, not me," she replies coldly, still angry at him barging in and accusing her. Draco smirks against her neck. Ron's eyes flash between them, narrowing more and more. He release a huff.

"When he treats you like dragon shite and then throws you away heartbroken, I don't want to hear it," Ron snaps, turning on his heels and leaving. Harry sighs and follows him out, mouthing a 'sorry' before he disappeared. The door snaps shut with Mrs. Malfoy still in the room.

"Draco," she drawls after a moment of silence.

"Yes, mother," he replies without shifting the position of Hermione firmly wrapped in his embrace.

"I can't believe you would do this in a time like this," she scolds. Draco sighs and finally sits up.

"Do what?" he accuses, throwing Hermione an apologetic look before staring unflinchingly at his mother.

"You know what you are doing and with...with her." The younger witch suddenly understand the apology, his mother disapproves because she's a muggle-born, not because her son was caught in bed with a girl.

"Why don't you just say it, Mother?" Draco snaps, getting to his feet. "Are the words too crude for you? Or do you realize that your prejudice is the only inferior thing in this house?" he stalks towards her as he speaks. Mrs. Malfoy's eyes go cold.

"Your father just passed and you think now is the time for your little 'rebellion?'" she asks.

"Rebellion?" Draco roars, followed by a cold laugh. "I have spent years fighting for a cause even you couldn't justify anymore, just to keep you breathing. But you want to tell me that Father's death is my fault? Go ahead. You want me to watch those pictures of him being tortured? Say the word. You want to lecture me on how we should have stayed? I don't care. But don't you dare call Hermione a 'little rebellion.' For once you are safe and I don't have to pretend that crusade was anything more than a power grab. I can do what I want and I want her."

Mrs. Malfoy is for once silent in her shock.

"What would your father say?" she tries again, her voice wavering.

"I couldn't give a damn," Draco replies. Her lips spread into a thin line.

"As you wish," she hisses, turning and leaving the room with a snap. Draco's shoulders sag and a sigh passes his lips. He turns and crawls back onto the bed, collapsing next to his witch.

"Do you want to talk?" she says after a long moment.

"No," he sighs. She nods.

"Thank you," she whispers, before letting silence claim them.