Song Inspiration: Never Tear Us Apart – Bishop Briggs

Chapter 22

Draco made his way down to their makeshift dungeon, hands shaking violently. The sight of Hermione, the witch he loved more than his own life, laying on his sitting room floor while bleeding and trembling, was one that he knew would haunt his nightmares until the day he died. He had felt a moment of relief, though, when his aunt had told him to fetch "the boys." He knew that if Hermione was here, Potter and Weasley were too. Although she hadn't told him that Weasley had returned, there was no one else that she and Potter would trust to be with them.

If Potter and Weasley were truly the ones in his family's cellar, that meant that he could work with them to figure out a plan to get the three of them safely out of the nest of vipers. Maybe, just maybe, they could get him out too…

As his foot hit the last stair of the cellar, he realized that the heavy iron door stood ajar, a foot sticking out just around the edge of the doorframe. Cautiously, he made his way closer, wand lit so that the inhabitants could see him clearly. He didn't relish the thought of being hexed due to a case of mistaken identity.

Walking into the room, he immediately spotted Weasley and Potter, the latter of whom stared at him from the end of what he could only assume was Wormtail's wand: its former owner lay motionless on the floor and, though he didn't stop to check, Draco was certain that the man was dead. His old house elf, Dobby, also stood between himself and the other occupants of the cellar-turned-prison, hands raised and ready to strike at him to protect the people in the room. Harry immediately lowered the borrowed wand upon seeing Draco.

"Well," Draco said, feigning a nonchalance that he certainly didn't feel, "I hope you have some grand plan to rescue Granger and yourselves before my aunt calls the Dark Lord here?"

Potter looked at Draco uncertainly before speaking.

"When we met for the first time at Madam Malkin's, what did you say you would do if you were sorted into Hufflepuff?"

Draco was puzzled by the random question but, assuming the Boy Who Lived had a reason behind his seemingly meaningless query, thought back to their first interaction in Diagon Alley over six years earlier.

"That I would leave, I think…"

Potter nodded.

"Sorry, Malfoy, had to make sure you were really you."

Draco said nothing, merely nodded.

"Dobby here," Potter said, motioning to the ex-servant of the Malfoy family that still stood between them and watched his former master anxiously, "can Apparate in and out of the Manor. He said he could take others with him, so he can get Luna, Dean, and Mr Ollivander out of here and then come back for us. We just haven't been able to figure out how to get Hermione and Griphook away from your aunt and your parents."

"I can help with that," Draco said, nodding.

Together, the three wizards and Dobby quickly figured out their plan. Draco would 'bring' the two of them up to his aunt just as she had ordered him to, but when they got there, Harry would overpower him and take his wand. Weasley would take Pettigrew's wand and he and Potter would disarm his mother and Bellatrix, his father's wand long gone. They would get Hermione back, then Dobby would take them all out of the Manor.

"What will happen to you once we leave?" Weasley asked, and Draco was surprised by the perturbed look on the redhead's face when he asked the question. Draco knew that being left behind could end up being a death sentence if the Dark Lord were called before the trio escaped, but outwardly he simply shrugged.

"I'll survive."

In the large sitting room, Draco stood wandless and watched as his mother and Bellatrix's wands flew through the air and into the waiting hands of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. He watched, relieved beyond words, as Weasley ran forward and hauled Hermione up and into his arms before he stepped back to where Potter stood, wand pointed at Bellatrix. Then he watched, blindsided, as Potter deviated from their quickly but carefully crafted plan.

"How about a little payback, Bellatrix?" Potter said, his voice dangerously soft as he twisted her wand around in the fingers of his left hand while his right held Draco's own wand steady, trained on the volatile witch. "You carved up and tortured my best friend. How about I take your nephew with me and do the same to him?"

Several things happened at once, then. A sharp crack echoed through the empty room as Dobby appeared and placed one hand on the injured goblin that had sat at Bellatrix's feet when they had entered the room while the other grasped tightly to Weasley's leg, who still held Hermione tightly in his arms. Potter then lunged out and his left arm wrapped securely around Draco's neck before he pulled the other, taller wizard back into his body, then reached down to put his hand on Dobby's back.

He heard his mother cry out in fear, heard his aunt shriek in rage, and heard the whistle of the cursed blade singing through the air as it left Bellatrix's fingertips in a deadly arc. Then, the group of three wizards, one wounded witch, one injured goblin, and one freed house elf were sucked together into the tunnel of Apparation at Dobby's doing.

Draco's feet hit soft, wet sand and he was immediately released from Potter's grasp. He rushed over to Hermione's side and pulled her out of Weasley's arms to cradle her gently in his own.

Potter's words broke through the haze of fear that clouded his mind, and he looked up to see the wizard holding Dobby tightly. A growing stain of bright red covered the fabric that clothed the house elf's small body, flowing freely from the place where Bellatrix's cursed knife stuck out of his thin chest. He watched as the elf sagged to the ground, but he didn't have time to stick around and help the house elf.

Hermione had begun shaking violently in his arms, limbs jerking so forcefully that he nearly dropped her. He felt the bitter, metallic taste of fear flood his mouth and he gripped her more tightly to his chest. He didn't know what Aunt Bella had done to his witch, or how long she had been tortured for before he had arrived. What he did know, though, was that regardless of what had been done to her, time was of the essence. If she had any chance of returning to him as the same person she had been before, he needed to act quickly.

"Weasley!" he shouted, panic clear to hear in his voice. "Where are we? She needs medical help, now!"

Weasley looked down at Hermione, apprehensive, before nodding.

"Follow me, Malfoy."

Draco followed closely on the redhead's heels as the wizard raced to a small cottage that was perched at the edge of the sandy beach. He struggled to keep Hermione's twitching body safely ensconced in the cradle of his arms.

The two burst through the door and Draco noted absently the presence of Lovegood and Thomas sitting at the large table, both battered and looking worse for wear but alive. He nearly snarled at the heavily scarred redhead that walked over to them and pulled Hermione from his arms.

He watched, helplessly as the redhead, surely one of Weasley's numerous older brothers, walked away from him with his witch cradled in his arms, followed by a tall willowy witch with hair so silvery-blonde, she could have passed for a member of his own family. Neither of the two older people so much as looked back at him before they closed the door behind them, blocking Draco's sight of his witch and leaving him, agonized, to wait…