"Sorted Too Young"
Dumbledore tells Snape, "Sometimes, Snape, I think we sort them too young."
A/N: author's notes will start to appear at the end of chapters.
CHAPTER 5 – SAVED BY LOVE
It was the only way he might be able to save her… and forever hate himself for it.
Hermione's potion was saving him from the brink of death. And he thought he was saving her a while ago. No, clearly it is the other way around. It unmanned him a little to think that a woman was saving his life, repeatedly. Not just any woman, but a muggle-born witch. He grew slowly stronger. His dreaming became more erratically peppered with nightmare of the horrible things his father had done to him. As he healed, the older scars could not be distinguished from the newer one. Their similarity, though, proved more informative to his caretakers than he wanted to admit.
He started to ask the odd question about the state of affairs. And when strong enough sat and read the Daily Prophet. When he was bored, he even read Luna's Quibblers. Harry was just coming back from Grimauld Place, his new estate. Draco had just started to get slightly used to the less posh environment. The news about Grimauld Place was better than Malfoy Manor, according to Harry. The physical damage to the Black Estate House was bad, but repairable. However the Dark Magic damage to Malfoy Manor still rendered it unlivable. They were still trying to get through that just to see the physical damage. It might be a year or two before Draco would ever be able to set foot even on the grounds.
Draco frowned and stood. "What news… what news have you of my father?"
Harry spoke with frustration, the kind that was shared with many people. "Lucius remains at large. He has fled to Scotland and might go further north before he comes back. He is calling himself the new Dark Lord. Many here are less keen to follow him. They lost lots with the past war. That does not mean he does have followers here. He does, we just haven't figured out who they are. What we do know is he still has a hate for those not of pure blood and a worse hate for blood traitors."
"Doesn't that put this house and inhabitants in danger?" Draco dared.
"This place is almost as safely secured as Hogwarts used to be. Also, it is never without guards or protection." Harry meant not just spells, but people and other creatures.
"And my mother?" His currently spotty memory prodded him to ask.
The hush that fell made the air think like soup. Molly backed out of this potential conversation as she had not been present at the incident. Harry regarded Draco with slight confusion. "You were in hospital for three weeks, Draco, and here for almost another three weeks. You don't remember?"
Standing sapped his energy swiftly, but Draco wanted to remain standing till he had his answers. He shook his head uncertainly at Harry.
"I'm sorry. She… died. Lucius tried to Avada Kadavra you and she protected you. She took the hit… like my mother took it for me. She protected you with her love and her life." Harry tried to soften a blow he knew could never really be softened and regretted being the one to break this to Draco. He really thought Draco recalled.
Draco staggered back a little. His breaths came short and fast as denial made him shake his head in disbelief. He had truly lost everything. His father, as cruel as he was. His home for who knows how long, maybe even forever. And the only person who ever cared about him, his mother. The colour washed from his face and his body grew clammy. His thoughts sprang around in panic in his head like a mouse in a death trap. Harry grabbed him to try to steady him, calling his name.
It isn't true! NO! She has to be alive! I heard her voice. I heard it. She bade me hold to my vows. She asked me to be the change. I heard her. She can't be dead!
But in his heart he knew. Six weeks had passed and she was not the one who cared for him through his healing. She was gone. The world snapped out of existence. He now shared the nickname that Harry did, The Boy Who Lived. He was saved by his mother's love and self-sacrifice.
A distant voice echoed in the darkness, "He's gone into shock. Let's get him into bed."
The darkness was so cold he could not stop shaking and shivering. In green flashes came the memories of his mother's death. Saved by her love. Soon after, the rest of the memories filled in the gaps. He howled out his terror and wished the memories would not come.
A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. I promise to reveal what happened in the next chapter. Just want to let a few more readers catch up and hope to see some reviews, too.