A/N: Apologies for the sporadic updates; small children, work and pandemic do not leave enough time for the creative process...
Also, I love your reviews, even the constructive ones - they're often what keeps me going - but if you post a negative comment without providing any context, I'm going to assume it's trolling and just carry on being fabulous over here.
Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling.
Hermione met Michael for their Friday meeting with the Headmistress by the gargoyle and they headed up together. She was grateful to be given the opportunity to be head girl but she did find it took up a lot of her time, and although Michael and the other prefects did their share, she would always be first in and last out to any of their meetings.
McGonagall didn't look up as they entered and made themselves comfortable. They'd become quite at ease discussing the complex workings of the school in the leather seats in her office. Hermione found it hard to believe the year was almost half through. They had started with the upcoming Hogsmeade trip when a silvery lynx bound into the room through the window.
"Minerva," the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt boomed from the silvery apparition. "Secure the school, there has been a breakout from Azkaban. Floo me when you are able."
Before the lynx had even vanished, McGonagall had summoned her own patronus and a message was on its way to the other professors to secure the sections of the school they were responsible for. She looked at the two students in front of her. Michael looked slightly green, but Hermione had an edge to her eyes that Minerva hadn't seen since the war.
"Ordinarily I would ask students to leave before contacting the Minister, but I suspect I may need your assistance so please remain where you are."
She stuck her head into the fireplace and conducted a brief call with Kingsley's secretary, before retreating. A moment later, Kingsley stepped from the green flames and dusted the soot from his robes.
"Minerva, Hermione, Mr Corner, I assume?"
Michael nodded mutely.
"How bad is it, Kingsley?" McGonagall asked, braced for the worst.
"Only one," he answered. The headmistress' face relaxed a fraction. "Minerva, I need to speak with Draco Malfoy at once."
"Draco?" Hermione whispered. "It's Lucius. Lucius is the escapee."
Kingsley didn't need to say anything, the grave look on his face confirmed it.
"Oh Merlin. His mother is still in the manor!"
Before either of the figures of authority in the room could say anything, Hermione had jumped up from her chair and raced for the door.
"Miss Granger!"
The force of the Headmistress' voice stopped Hermione in her tracks. The older witch looked kindly on the young woman who was so obviously torn between following her heart and respecting authority.
"Mr Malfoy may use my private floo connection. Bring him here, if you will."
Hermione nodded as she sprinted from the room. She knew there were quicker ways to get a message to Draco, but she couldn't bear the thought of him finding this out from a disembodied voice. She ran down the corridors and stairs she knew so well until she came to the door to the Slytherin common room. She stammered out the password breathlessly and raced into the unfamiliar room.
She barely had time to look around her before Theo was at her side. She gasped for air as he gripped her shoulders to steady her.
"Theo, where's Draco?"
Theo took all of two seconds to assess her dishevelled appearance and decide that whether Draco wanted to see her or not, he had no choice. He grabbed her wrist and started towards the boys' dorms, ignoring the gasps and stares of his fellow housemates. He burst into the furthest room without knocking and surprised the inhabitants.
Greg was slouched on his bed reading the most recent issue of PlayWizard, which he quickly stashed when the door opened; Blaise, it appeared, had just got out of the shower and was wearing nothing but a towel; and Draco was lounging on his bed with a book, long sleeves despite the warm room.
"Principessa," Blaise crooned. "Forgive me - if I'd known you were coming, I'd have worn even less."
Hermione blushed crimson, despite the redness from her run. Theo threw Blaise a warning look and the grin fell from his face immediately. Hermione had always admired the way they seemed to be able to say so much with the tiniest of gestures.
"What do you want?"
She turned to the voice, her reason for running half-way across the castle. There was still that half-excited, half-nervous feeling in her stomach when she caught those grey eyes, but this was no time for teenage girlish tendencies. He obviously caught the silent communication between Theo and Blaise and sat up quickly.
"There's been a breakout from Azkaban," she started. "Draco, your father-"
"How do you know this?" He snapped as he strode across the room towards her.
"The Minister is in the Headmistress' office. Michael and I were there when the news came in."
He considered this for a moment, assessing her appearance and trying to look for any angle from which this could be a trick. They might not be speaking but she was still a Gryffindor through and through. She was here because her bleeding heart wouldn't allow her to act otherwise. It had to be true, but that meant...
"My mother-"
"McGonagall said you can use her floo-"
He was striding out of the door before she could finish. She took a deep breath before following, returning Theo's sad little smile as she left.
Hermione struggled to keep up with his extremely long strides. At least he wasn't running. They fell into a somewhat comfortable silence walking side by side through the abandoned corridors to the gargoyle statue. Draco remembered his manners at the last moment and allowed her to ascend the spiral staircase first.
The Minister and the Headmistress were still there. Michael, it seemed, had left. Hermione wondered briefly if she would be the subject of much gossip tomorrow because of her desperate sprint to Draco's side. Michael had always loved a bit of gossip.
"Mr Malfoy, I trust Miss Granger has filled you in on the situation?" McGonagall asked. He nodded once.
"How did this happen? I thought after Sirius Black, and the war, it wasn't possible anymore. The dementors have left, it's supposed to be secure-"
"He had help," Kingsley interjected. "We're investigating now, looking at memory evidence and some of the newly created surveillance charms. I suspect the Death Eaters still at large had some part in it, although I'm surprised Nott and the Lestranges had the resources and the wits to pull this off. As soon as we know more - if it's appropriate - we'll let you know."
The Headmistress held out a pot of floo powder.
"Perhaps you'd like to see to the safety of your mother first, and ask questions later?"
Draco nodded as he took a deep breath to calm himself. Hermione's fingers brushed his and he itched to take some comfort from her, even if he knew she was only offering it as a friend and a bleeding heart. He stepped into the fireplace to avoid embarrassing himself further.
The Manor was dark. His mother had likely retreated to her suite by now. He sped to the East wing and saw light under one of the doors. His mother was reading in her separate living room when he burst through the doors. She didn't even blink.
"Evening, Draco darling," she drawled, not even looking up from her book. "I assume there is some reason you're disturbing my evening in?"
"Mother," he panted, he may not have run – Malfoys don't run, after all – but he was out of breath and sweaty. When she looked up, she immediately realised his distress. "There has been a breakout at Azkaban. Lucius-"
Her gasp stopped him in his tracks. He felt it too. Someone had just passed through the wards. Someone the wards recognised.
"He's here."
His mother shook her head.
"I changed the wards after the divorce," she explained. "Malfoy Manor this may be, but he can't get in. I changed the wards so only me and my bloodline can get in."
He considered her words for a moment.
"Mother, the pure-blooded bloodlines are so mixed, perhaps-"
"My immediate bloodline, Draco," she snapped.
"Perhaps McGonagall sent Aunt Andromeda?"
"Good thinking nephew, but not quite."
A chill ran down Draco's neck. His mother was pale, her eyes unblinking, staring at the door he'd just burst through.
He knew the voice, but he also knew it couldn't possibly be her. She was dead. The Weasley matriarch had killed her, terrifying woman that she was. His fingers tightened around his wand as he turned, slowly, to face his aunt.
She looked, if possible, even crazier than before. Her skin was deathly pale, her eyes more uneven, the look in them more unhinged. Her husband, minus a hand, Draco noticed, and his equally repugnant brother stood to one side, with Dolohov and Nott Sr behind them, but to her right hand stood his father.
Lucius Malfoy was still in his Azkaban robes, thinner than he'd been before, dirty grey stubble on his face. His eyes were what drew the most attention though. Draco had once thought it was such an honour to have the grey eyes that signalled him out to be a Malfoy, but seeing those same eyes look at him coldly made him rethink it.
"Bella - how?" Narcissa choked out before her sister's wand was trained on her.
"Cissy, I was most disappointed to hear both of my sisters had gone traitor. But no matter, every tree needs pruning occasionally, and it seems my family tree is no different."
Draco stepped in front of his mother, attempting to block her from view.
"Aunt Bella," he ground out. "Charming as always, but that's my mother you're threatening, and in our house, no less."
"Your house?" Lucius spluttered, indignant and barely holding in his rage. "You insolent boy! This is my house and you are my son. You will come here this instant and-"
"This isn't your house anymore," Narcissa countered, stepping out from behind her son. "Or didn't you get the divorce papers?"
Draco smirked as his father seethed. He took a step back, as casually as he could manage. Another step or two and he would be close enough to apparate his mother out of here. He only hoped the wards would recognise him as the head of the House of Malfoy since everything had transferred to him.
"Enough!" Bella kept her wand on the pair while she ordered her husband and brother in law to secure the premises. Nott Sr left with them, muttering about being the only sane one. His father didn't have a wand, Draco noted, so that left them with just Bella and Dolohov. Draco reckoned he could cast a strong enough shield to block anything but the killing curse if he needed to, but he wasn't sure if he could do that and apparate.
He caught his mother's eyes. He was a natural occlumens, but he'd been working on legilimency under Snape and Bella's instruction towards the end of the war. Assuming the participant was willing he could now perform it wordlessly. He cast the charm and held eye contact.
"Draco, be ready to disapparate."
He barely had time to think before his mother cast a handful of charms at her sister and husband, throwing them against the furniture, before casting a powerful shield charm. He grabbed her shoulder and thought of the safest place, turning on the spot. Through his concentration he thought he saw Dolohov casting, but he hoped against hope that his mother's shield charm would hold.
He landed in a watery ditch, in pitch black in the middle of nowhere, his mother landing in a graceless heap next to him.
"Mother!"
He turned her over, but she was unresponsive, and a huge purple mark had started to appear on her house robes. He tried to apparate again, but wherever they were there were powerful anti-apparition wards up.
A familiar popping sound behind him caused him to turn, his mother near-lifeless in his arms.
"Who goes there? Show yourself!"
The silhouette of Arthur Weasley was so welcome a sight Draco nearly cried. He had thought the Weasley's house would be safe - an Order residence, immediate access to a floo, no restrictive wards like Hogwarts - but perhaps he'd underestimated that last part.
"Mr Weasley, it's Draco Malfoy. We tried to apparate to your home, forgive me, it's just, my mother…"
Arthur's eyes went wide as he took in the sight before him. Clambering down into the ditch he grabbed them both and apparated them directly into the living room of the Burrow, nearly the exact spot Draco had been aiming for before.
Molly took one look at the situation before sticking her head in the fireplace.
"Andromeda - they're here!"
His aunt followed her through almost immediately. He held onto his mother on the floor of the room, her eyes closed and the purple mark spreading slowly.
"Draco - what happened?"
He just stared straight ahead unable to form words. Molly levitated Narcissa to the sofa as Arthur darted for the floo.
"Minnie, we have them - no, listen, we need Poppy, it's Dolohov's again."
There were more arrivals stepping from the fireplace, but he just stared at his mother's near-lifeless body. A hand touched his shoulder and brought him out of his trance.
"Draco, dear, we need you to tell us what happened." Molly's voice was soft and gentle, as if trying not to scare away a wild animal. "Was it your father who did this, or was Dolohov there, at the Manor?"
Draco shook his head. He wouldn't have believed it possible, but he'd seen it with his own eyes.
"Bella," he whispered, too quiet to be heard over the bustling of the mediwitch who was hard at work measuring out potions. He cleared his throat and looked up.
"It was Bellatrix. She's back."
Every eye was on him and for a split second there was total stillness before the room erupted in chaos. Kingsley sent a patronus to the Ministry to tighten security and send a team of aurors to them. Molly went white and Arthur had to hold her up for a moment. Andromeda sat down, comforted by McGonagall.
But the only eyes that stayed fixed on his were a soft brown that he hadn't spotted until that moment. They went wide and her face paled so the freckles on her nose stood out so much he thought he could count them from across the room.
Draco saw her sway before she crumpled and he darted to her side, catching her before she hit her head on the floor.
"Miss Granger!" McGonagall exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing here? I thought I told you it wasn't necessary!"
Molly pushed past the older witch and placed a vial to Hermione's lips. She was shaking, her eyes staring, her fingers clawing at her left arm. She swallowed it down but her thrashing barely decreased and Draco wrapped his arms around her to try and minimise the damage she did to herself and him.
"Calming draught," Molly answered his inquiring look. "She built up something of a resistance over the summer so it probably won't work as well as it should, but it'll take the edge off."
Hermione whimpered and clung to his arms and herself, her eyes screwed up against some unknown foe. Draco knew she'd had nightmares, she'd gone into shock at the sound of Bella's name at the beginning of the year, but he hadn't realised it was this bad. Even a standard calming draught was barely stopping her from gouging her own arm.
"Draco - Bella!"
His mother's voice broke him from his musings. He caught her eye as she tried to leave the sofa. He made to get up, but she waved him off, smiling at the fact his arms were too full of a petite brunette witch to rush to her side.
'At least one good thing has come from this mess,' she thought, as dreamless sleep closed her eyes again.
