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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Draco watched Hermione as she paced before him. He'd wished, not for the first time, that he hadn't told her about the exact time that the mission to Godric's Hollow would occur.
She was panicked, every few seconds reminding him to be careful, if he'd taken potions, and any other nagging thought that her fearful mind had conjured up as they waited for his signal to disapparate. He sighed before grabbing her by the hand and forcing her to straddle his knees. He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders.
"It's going to be fine. I've done this hundreds of times before, and I'm still here."
She chewed her lip, nodding once in understanding.
"It's just...you said it yourself, you have a bad feeling about this."
He winced involuntarily. It was true. He'd been dreading this mission from the moment Dolohov had suggested it.
But Hermione didn't need to know the full extent of it.
She was already worrying herself sick over things that hadn't happened yet. He must have promised to keep safe a million times before the mark on his armed burned for him to leave. She surprised him then, bursting out into tears and crying out over and over, "Don't go."
He drew her into his arms and kissed her temple. "Love. You know I have too." If anything it made Hermione sob harder.
"Please be careful. Please." She murmured into his shirt.
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He winced as his arm flared with pain again, and in seconds, he spun away with one destination in mind. Godric's Hollow.
He crouched down and watched as his corner of the home in question filled with other Death Eaters. He had to give it to Dolohov. Attacking the Potter home again had not occurred to many; not after the last time when they'd been taken by surprise.
He didn't like it. The air too tense. The night too quiet. He held his hand up to wait. Bellatrix's group was to start the attack on the house's structure. With any luck the house would have been emptied per his earlier warning to Andromeda.
He let out a breath.
Not for the first time, he felt that something wasn't right.
That was when the front left side of the house lit up with spells.
"Fuck." He muttered motioning this behind him to follow as the rounded the house. No use running into a fight until he knew what he was dealing with.
The left has been Dolohov's side to manage. Curious that it was the side that fell under attack. Just as he thought it, he heard his aunt shout not far from him to begin firing spells.
The Order was fighting back.
Fuck.
He'd wanted something simple in and out. Low casualties. Did they really think they could mount a defense to Death Eaters?
As he walked into the skirts of the battle , he called out orders. His men, scattered eager to join the fight, while he edged toward the house.
He had to make sure there wasn't anyone left in the house. If the Resistance had been stupid enough to plan a defense, then he had no doubts that they had also left themselves vulnerable.
He cast revealing spell as he went, floor by floor. He could feel the magic whirling around him and on the outside of the house, threatening to strike and tear down section of the foundation.
The third floor was when he felt three others around him. Cautiously, he walked closer to the room where his spell had went off. Pushing the door open, he was immediately met with one grown man dressed in Death Eater black towering over two children.
Even from behind, he knew who it was.
Dolohov.
Hearing him enter, he'd turned and was regarding Draco with a casual smirk plastered on his face.
"Well Malfoy, are you here for some fun?"
He glared at him in disgust.
A malicious grin replaced the smirk, as Dolohov stepped towards him the children momentarily forgotten.
"You're so easy to predict Malfoy. It was almost child's play getting you alone."
His heart raced in alarm. He maneuvered around Dolohov, letting his eyes rest on the two children, a young boy and girl, silently pleading with them to leave.
"If you're trying to threaten me Dolohov, I can't say I'm impressed."
Dolohov glared at him before tapping his wand thoughtfully against his free hand.
Draco took his moment of distraction to meet the children's gaze once more. He stretched his mind to them, slipping in gently with Legilimency. When their eyes widened in understanding, he let his focus turn back to Dolohov.
"How long have you been planning this. Get me alone and kill me with the destruction of the house to mark my grave?" he wondered aloud circling the other. He made out the two children slipping away out of the corner of his eye, and he nearly let out a sigh of relief.
It was one less thing to worry about.
Dolohov was silently raging at his display of ease at the situation. No doubt, he'd expected him to cower, to revert to the broken child who'd faltered at the first sign of danger. A lot had happened since he'd been that person. He didn't exist anymore.
"You arrogant bastard." Dolohov said lowly, "At death's door and you still have the nerve to act as though you are king of the world."
Draco sneered, stopping his circling to stand face to face with the other.
"Not a king, but our Lord certainly sees me as the prince."
Dolohov's face contorted with obvious rage.
"I don't trust you Malfoy. A traitor is a traitor to me. I don't know how you convinced the Dark Lord you were anything but."
Malfoy stepped back a bemused expression clear on his face. "Are you suggesting our Lord can be so easily manipulated?"
Dolohov growled, throwing his wand hand up into the air.
"I've had enough of your manipulations." He declared before, hurling a spell straight at Draco.
He easily dodged, throwing up a shield for good measure before sending a spell right back to Dolohov. The other dodged it, but only slightly, having Draco's spell graze his arm as he moved.
They stood face to face and wands raised before them, as though they were moments away from fighting a formal wizard's duel rather than a battle aimed to destroy.
He was about to cast again, when he made out a soft creak in the floorboards of the outer hall. He stole a glance at Dolohov, who seemed to have also shifted his gaze in response to the sound.
As though in sync, their wands turned to point at the door.
Fleetingly, he thought it funny that only seconds ago they were prepared to demolish one another, but in the face of a common threat their earlier training had taken over.
It was like that next. Every motion a muscle memory from when it had first been taught to him. He moved to distract the intruder and in seconds Dolohov had followed and bound a solitary figure before them.
He blinked unsure what he was seeing at first. Then his mind seemed to catch up with the rest of him as the adrenaline faded, and he took in the sight of long red hair.
"A Weasley." Dolohov said, unable to keep the glee out of his voice.
Fuck.
Ginny Weasley.
"We have to be sure. It could be polyjuice." Draco stalled, unable to meet the girl's frantic gaze. "That's happened to us repeatedly with Potter before."
Dolohov clenched his fists in frustration but didn't protest. Instead, he took a leering gaze and trailed his eyes downward Ginny's form.
"I can think of plenty of things we can do to occupy the time then."
Those words, so callously spoken, caused something dark to wash over him. For a minute, it wasn't just Ginny tied up before Dolohov, Astoria was right next to her. He couldn't seem to calm himself as the rage simply festered and tore at his insides.
"You vile sick fuck." He ground out.
Dolohov's head snapped toward him. "Careful Malfoy."
"Careful." he said, voice eerily low, "You're the one who's been threatening me for ages and not doing a single thing."
Dolohov reacted exactly as expected. He shot a curse at him.
The house rocked, both with the force of their duel and with the force of the battles going on outside the house.
He sidestepped another curse, leading Dolohov to follow him as he led the other away from the bound Ginny.
This needed to end soon.
He didn't realize how much his own musings were distracting him, until Dolohov managed to finally graze with a modified slicing hex to his thigh.
With that, he resumed dueling with more fervor more fury, nearly reminiscent of the times he'd trained with Bellatrix until they'd both conceded to stop.
He gained on Dolohov quickly, knocking him back into the wall at the end of the hall. When he stood again, there was an almost feral expression marring his face.
"Expelliarmus." Dolohov shouted with so much venom he shook as he cast.
For the first time since they'd begun fighting, Draco cast verbally.
"Bombarda Maxima."
He rushed to the side, fighting the pain that was creeping up his cut up leg. The force of his spell; though, sent him flying to the side and filled the floor with smoke from the tearing of the floor and wall.
He cried out at the impact that resulted in soft cracks in the bones in his chest. "Fuck." he swore, rising carefully. He kept his wand out, ready to defend himself.
He didn't need too.
He made out the pile of wood and the hole where Dolohov should have been standing. Edging closer, he peered down and quickly looked away. Dolohov had fallen through the floorboards, and based on the angle of the body, he'd fallen to his death.
He gasped against the sharpness in his chest, as he stumbled back toward Ginny.
With a flick of his wand, he'd released her and stumbled to lean against one of the few remaining walls.
Ginny scrambled to her feet with her wand immediately drawn.
"You need to get out of here Weasley." He managed between short pants of air.
She stared at him, confused and calculating.
"Why did you -"
"Go." he said firmly, "Before someone else joins us up here."
Ginny stepped closer, taking in his injuries. "Merlin, you're a mess."
He rolled his eyes. "I'll manage. Just go."
The house shook again, and their eyes both widened at the force of it. It wouldn't remain standing for much longer.
She studied him for a moment before she turned on her heel and disappeared. Sighing with relief, he turned the opposite direction and fled the building right before it was finally brought down.
It seemed both sides had suffered losses from the fight.
The Dark Lord would not be pleased.
He straightened as best he could before he walked firmly to where they'd aggregated and with a crack they'd all landed back at headquarters.
It was so much worse than he'd predicted. The bastard was seething, having somehow heard that prominent members of the Resistance had been at the battle, none of which had been captured. Then of course, there was the death of three members of the inner circle. Voldemort may have no issues with offing his own followers, but when they fell to another's wand, he took it as a personal insult, a betrayal.
They all fell one by one before him to allow his mind probes that were much more violent than normal.
When it was his turn, he strung his thoughts together as best he could. The pain in his leg was burning him on the inside, and the sharpness in his chest had not allowed him a single full breath.
Broken ribs.
He winced as he dropped as gracefully as he could manage onto his good knee, and resisted the urge to sob at the force in which Voldemort tore through his mind.
As his duel with Dolohov flashed through his mind, Voldemort abruptly withdrew.
"What is this?" he hissed.
Draco lifted his chin, meeting the Dark Lord's gaze without flinching.
"He planned to have me killed my Lord."
A collective murmur tore through the crowd.
"His petty needs distracted us both, and it was through his actions that he allowed an Order member, a Weasley no less, to escape our clutches." he continued, proud at how firm and steady his voice carried outward despite his lack of breath.
The room had gone silent as he spoke, and he could tell that even the Dark Lord was waiting for breath, focused completely on him.
He wished he could lay blame entirely on a dead man, but such a thing was too suspicious. No. He had to take some blame and accept punishment head on. The snake loved that. It made him think his followers were so devoted they'd sacrifice their health and sanity for him.
Arrogant prick.
"You entrusted this mission to me my Lord, and though the house fell, we lost several opportunities today."
A concession, but no incriminating declarations of failure.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed, and suddenly Draco felt very very cold.
"It is a pity Dolohov did not see past his own low ambitions." He hissed, toying his wand in his hand, "But you are right young Malfoy. The blame is not your's alone, but greater nonetheless on your shoulders."
And that's how it began.
For every punishment the bastard gave to another member, Draco received it two fold.
The first always hurt, no matter how much he'd braced himself in preparation for the pain. It tore him inside out, forcing tremors into his limbs that were horrifyingly familiar at this point. After the first five, he'd become numb.
Sure, he could feel his insides twisting and the cuts that were appearing across his skin, but it was like his mind had somehow shut off his ability to truly feel anything.
Shock. He'd probably gone into shock by now.
It all blurred together, the faces around him, the wand before him, but not the piercing gaze of the maniac. No, that he held on to until he blinked and suddenly found himself prone on the floor.
He was vaguely aware of someone rolling him onto his back, and tipping his head back as potion was gently tipped into his mouth. Nearly immediately, he felt the shakes and tremors ease, though his vision was still fuzzy at best and the sounds of those around him were contorted.
"You foolish stubborn boy." Someone muttered, tipping his head slightly back so that the potion would slide easier down his throat.
He struggled to frown at the voice, trying hard to place it. So familiar. So blasted familiar.
His body was lifted from the floor like he was nothing more than a rag doll and then transferred into another pair of arms.
"Take him home Nott. I've done all I'm allowed."
"Pity that." Theo replied with a little more venom than necessary.
The other voice growled. "Draco may tolerate you speaking to him that way, but I assure you I do not."
He wanted to react, plead, shout, anything, but he couldn't.
He'd figured out the voice.
He tried to speak, but it came out a croaking moan that immediately silenced the two.
The other sighed, "Take him home to rest."
He felt Theo start to move, slowly as though taking care to mind his own injuries. Still he felt it, the second the other presence was gone.
He struggled to call out, to mumble even the smallest of words. He had to know. He had to know why he'd helped when the last words they'd traded had been laced with pain and anger.
He felt his hold on his consciousness fading, and he fought in vain against it.
He had to know why his father had taken care of him despite it all.
Waiting was undeniably a source of torture. Hermione wrung her hands together and avoided Pansy's inquisitive gaze from across from her. It had been like this since he'd left. She'd spent an hour by herself simply pacing the flat until Pansy had shown up to wait alongside her.
Her thoughts had run away with her, filling her with what ifs and images that not only depicted chaos but hurt and pain for both Theo and Draco.
Pansy had led her silently out to the balcony, and they'd sat out with only the half moon for company since then.
Yes, waiting was torture. The more time passed the more worried she became.
Pansy was too. Though, she hid it better than Hermione. It was the tense position in which she sat, the faraway look that sometimes settled into her eyes, and most of all it was the way she clasped her hands together tightly placed in her lap in the manner in which she'd been taught.
The perfect Pureblood Princess even at the height of her anxiety.
They'd approached their fifth hour of waiting, leaving them more in the early morning than the late night, when Theo finally stumbled back into the apartment.
Pansy shot up at the sound of the Floo, putting Hermione's reflexes to shame.
"Oh Merlin." Pansy moaned at the limp form in Theo's arms.
Theo stumbled, careful not to drop Draco as he settled him down on the couch.
Hermione's feet seemed to move on their own as she dropped to the floor beside him.
He was so bruised, bloody in at least on place on every piece of his visible skin. His pants leg was torn on the right, revealing a rather nasty cut on his thigh. He was still shaking every few moments, not violently, but enough for her to guess what exactly had filled him with tremors.
She watched his chest rise and fall in quick shallow breaths, each wheezing and nearly a gasp.
Draco.
She bit her tongue hard before she stood swiftly and let herself move on instincts. She summoned potions and salves and bent over his form healing what she knew how.
The broken ribs were first, she was afraid his lung might be pierced considering the way he was breathing. She steadied her hand as best she could as she went to work finding the ribs she thought broken and healing them.
Out of the corner of her eye, she made out Pansy working on Theo, who, she finally noticed, was only slightly better off than Draco.
"Stay with me love." she murmured as she turned from his chest and began healing the cuts decorating his skin. She dabbed dittany gently over the deeper ones that spells just wouldn't close, before she reached the cut on his thigh.
She found an antibiotic cream that she generously spread over the area before using dittany to help seal the wound.
She'd healed all she'd known how the best she could. She dropped back to her knees and her hand automatically went to brush through the sweaty strands of hair clinging to his forehead.
She conjured a small towel and gently wiped the sweat from his brow.
When she was done, she begrudgingly tore herself away from his side to turn to Theo.
Pansy had healed him well, and if not for the nearly imperceptible tremors, she wouldn't have known he'd likely been tortured hours before.
Her stomach churned. She summoned a calming draught and handed it to Theo before nearly collapsing into a seat.
He drank it quickly, relaxing instantly. He let out a murmur of thanks before running a hand through his hair.
"What happened Theo?"
He looked up at her, eyes glassy in the low light. "The Order fought back."
He spoke, his voice dull and without feeling as he relayed the Order's surprise attack and how it had quickly turned into losses on both sides. More so on the Order's part then the Death Eater's.
He couldn't tell her much about what Draco had done, seeing how he separated from them to search the house.
"He fought with Dolohov. Bastard tried to kill him, so Draco fought back and with the house already unstable." He gave her a meaningful look.
She didn't even feel remorse at the implication. It was a hard reality, realizing she was oddly relieved the man was dead.
"He fell through the floor."
All three of them turned at the shaky voice.
Draco coughed and pulled himself up on his elbows.
She rushed over to him and helped him, moving pillows to help prop him up.
She sighed smoothing his hair, and he gave her the barest of smiles in response.
"Good riddance." Theo growled.
Draco said nothing and instead folded his arms and leant back into the cushioning.
"And the torture?" She whispered.
"Punishment." He intoned. He let out a breath, "I saw your friend. Ginny. She came into the house."
Her eyes widened, and she found her hands had come to wrap around her middle.
"She wasn't hurt. I told her to run, and I'm sure she got out before the house came down."
He said it so matter of fact, empty. She really didn't know why it bothered her. She shouldn't want to challenge him, to fight, when he was fresh from not just a battle but a session of Crucio's as well. But she did. This was her friend. This was Ginny, a girl that was nearly like a sister to her. She had to know she was ok, anything else was unacceptable.
"You're sure." She bit out.
Draco narrowed his eyes before letting out a painful shudder. When he looked up again at her, his face had gone carefully blank.
It bothered her. Infuriated her. She wasn't even sure what it was exactly. It was the culmination of her worries, her fears, her pain at seeing Draco so broken, her thoughts on Ginny's safety, and her anger at his ability to carefully compartmentalize every emotion he ever had. It was incredibly selfish and petty of her to want him to break down as she did. Even at his lowest, he was so much more controlled than she was.
"How can you do that, just sit there like nothing affects you, like you can't feel when I know you can." she said, her voice louder than she'd meant it to be.
He stared at her long and hard, and she saw the wars that always raged silently within those grey eyes of his.
"Because I have to be." He answered quietly after a moment.
"And when it builds up and finally breaks you in two, will you be strong then?"
He said nothing.
"What will you be then?" She demanded, near hysterical now.
"I don't know."
His words pushed her over the edge, sobs racking her body as her anger disappeared.
Somehow Draco had pushed himself upright and pulled her to him, breathing heavily against her as she sobbed in his arms.
"She's fine love. She had more than enough time to get away."
His gentle murmurs eased the sobs, but tears still fell from her eyes. "I don't want to lose anymore."
He shuddered against her. "I know love. I know."