Chapter 20: When time is against you, run.

Draco opened his eyes, startled. The first thought that crossed his mind was the conversation he'd had with Hermione the previous afternoon, one that had lingered in his head like a persistent echo he couldn't shut out.

Granger... was pregnant.

Hermione Granger. The same girl who had been an easy target for his mockery and disdain for so many years was now pregnant with his child.

They both knew something like this could happen when they had locked themselves in that broom closet, giving in to impulses neither of them had wanted to acknowledge or stop in time. But it was still strange to think that something like this had actually happened. Especially when only a month ago Draco hadn't even been able to find her attractive. Although, looking back, he was sure that he had never really taken the time to look at her properly. Not beyond the prejudices that had always surrounded her.

For being part of Potter and Weasel's insufferable little group, for being a Gryffindor, for being an insufferable know-it-all... and, of course, for being born a Muggle.

And now she, Hermione Granger, was carrying his seed.

And now, thanks to her, thanks to Hermione Granger, the curse that had tormented him for so long was gone.

He felt healthier than he had in a long time.

And more dead inside than ever.

He would never see Daphne again.

The perfect face of the girl he had once imagined growing old with had been replaced by the horrible memory of her body lying in the bushes like garbage. He was convinced that her eyes, devoid of any trace of life, had looked at him coldly, blaming him for not being there to protect her.

Damn it! That lifeless look would be etched into his memory forever.

The pain burned inside him and with it the anger. A savage fury that ignited every time he thought of the killer who had taken Daphne's life. Only Salazar knew what he would do if he ever faced him. Draco relished the thought of prolonging his suffering, of watching the culprit writhe in pain. It would be music to his ears.

The feeling was overwhelming. He didn't know how to describe it; he didn't even know where to begin to process it.

It felt as if his entire world had collapsed with Daphne's death, and at the same time was slowly being rebuilt every time Hermione held him in her lap and whispered that everything would be all right.

How could he not have noticed how sweet she was before?

Daphne had been the only girl in his heart until he realised he had never known anyone like Granger. Only someone like her would have insisted on helping the person who had turned many of her days at Hogwarts into nightmares. Only someone like her would have sacrificed herself for him, risking her own well-being to save him from the curse... the curse that had bound and consumed him for so long, forcing him to live under the threat of becoming a mere shadow of himself. And now, thanks to her, the curse was gone.

He felt a tear slip down his cheek. He wiped it away angrily. He hated to show vulnerability, especially in front of his roommates. He could only remember crying in front of three people in his entire life: his mother, Daphne and Hermione.

He got out of bed, trying to shake off the emptiness that was crushing his chest.

Hermione.

He wanted to see her.

Of course, he'd noticed that she hadn't turned up for dinner in the Great Hall the day before, and although it bothered him not to see her, he assumed that Madame Moore had kept her in the shop longer than expected to put the finishing touches on her dress, or that she herself had decided not to turn up after the run-in with Astoria.

He glanced at the Gryffindor table when he arrived for breakfast, but she wasn't there. He hurried through his food as quickly as he could, keeping an eye on the door to the Great Hall, hoping to see her come in.

To be honest, the fact that he felt so strongly for her in such a short time was a little annoying, he couldn't deny it. In the space of a few days, she had become an obsession. He longed to be near her, to touch her soft skin when no one else was looking, or to meet her in secluded corridors to pull her face towards him and kiss her lips.

She was the only reason he hadn't gone mad after what had happened to Daphne. Hermione Granger held the thread that kept Draco Malfoy dangling over the edge.

Only a few stragglers remained in the Great Hall, finishing their plates of pudding, cereal and scrambled eggs, but Hermione still hadn't appeared.

"Come on, mate," Blaise urged. "We're going to be late for class."

Draco could tell that Blaise was paying more attention to him since Daphne. He didn't openly ask how he was, but Draco could tell he was watching him to make sure the depression that was eating at him didn't make him jump off the Astronomy Tower at any moment.

But Blaise could go back to his strange dates with the Weasley boy and forget about him.

Draco just wanted to be left alone.

Where was his girl?

Surely sitting in the front row of the day's first class, waiting.

But she wasn't there.

Nor in the next class.

And she hadn't turned up for lunch either.

With his new-found vitality, Draco ran to the library, a nagging unease growing in his chest. Hermione never missed a class, but perhaps she had lost track of time lost in an interesting book. That had to be it, right? It couldn't be happening again. She couldn't be missing, and she certainly couldn't turn up like Daphne had.

He pushed the library door open with all his strength and began to walk quickly through the corridors, breathing heavily, his heart racing at that last thought.

No.

Not her.

A magical reminder appeared in front of his face, written in white smoke: "Remember: No running in the library." He waved his arm to erase the words and walked on.

She wasn't anywhere!

He hurried to a table where Patil, one of her classmates, was sitting.

"You, do you know where Hermione is?" Draco asked impatiently.

The startled girl looked up in surprise, obviously not expecting Draco Malfoy to speak to her directly.

"Her...mione?" she repeated, obviously aware that he was using her first name. "Wow, so the rumours are true..."

"Just answer me."

"Quiet!" the librarian reprimanded.

"Shut up!" he shouted over his shoulder, leaving the woman stunned, then turned back to Padma Patil. "Where. Is. Hermione?"

The girl recoiled slightly at the Slytherin's anger.

"I haven't seen her since yesterday. She hasn't been sleeping in her bed."

Draco felt a sharp pang of worry at her words. Something was definitely wrong.

Without wasting any more time, Draco turned and left, his mind already planning his next move. Even if Patil hadn't seen her, perhaps Potter or Weasley would know something.

He ran through the castle, up and down stairs, checking every corner until he found them. They were chatting casually, leaning against the wall outside their next class.

"Where's Hermione?" he asked without further ado.

Potter and Weasley exchanged frowning looks.

"Why don't you tell us?" Ron replied. "Casually she's been where you are a lot lately."

Draco had to use every ounce of self-control not to hex him on the spot.

"The last time I saw her was yesterday afternoon," the blond snapped. "She didn't show up for dinner, didn't spend the night in your common room, didn't come down for breakfast or lunch,didn't attend any class..." he added, as if that last sentence was irrefutable proof that something was wrong.

Potter scratched his head and made a strange face.

"I thought she'd be studying," he said.

"Everyone assumes Hermione's always studying, but she has a life beyond books, you know?" Draco replied, wrinkling his nose as he looked at him.

Hermione wasn't just the bookworm he once thought she was.

Hermione was much more than that.

And he would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

"Daph..." He had to clear his throat before he could continue. "Daphne disappeared out of nowhere too, before she..." He stopped. There was no need to say it out loud; they knew what he meant. He paused as he saw both their faces instantly tense. "You are warned. Start looking for her. Ask everyone if they've seen her. I'm going to Hogsmeade. The last thing she told me was that she was going to pick up her graduation dress."

He left the castle taking a deep breath. It was impossible not to think back to that day in Madame Moore's shop, how he had felt a strange spark in his stomach the moment she had begun to undress in front of him so that the stylist could take her measurements.

He remembered trying to distract himself at first. He had sat on the pale pink sofa and pretended to look around, noticing every irrelevant detail just to avoid looking directly at her. But when Hermione dropped her robe and began to undress with those slow, careful movements, something changed in him.

From then on, it was impossible to ignore her.

He had tried, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. He had seen every detail, like the way she bit her lip as she hung up her robe, or the way she blushed. She had seemed uncomfortable, as if simply undressing in front of him had made her vulnerable. In fact, it made them both vulnerable. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her like this, but this time her nakedness had felt more… more real. And he had looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time: the curve of her back as she bent to pick up her skirt, the small birthmark on her thigh, the way her hair fell over her face, partially hiding it...

As the seamstress took her measurements, Draco couldn't stop staring at her. He had felt an attraction that was both overwhelming and contradictory. He knew he should keep his distance, but every time their eyes met through the mirror, the space between them had felt smaller, more unbearable.

There was something about the way she challenged him, the way she saw him completely beyond the masks he had worn all his life. And somehow that frightened him as much as it attracted him. For he had never thought of Hermione like that before, not with such clarity.

But there he was, unable to take his eyes off her.

"I love Daphne," he had reminded himself, though the phrase had sounded hollow at that moment, almost like a lie.

Did he still love her?

He had avoided facing this question by buying her the most beautiful rose he could find in the Hogsmeade flower shop. Now he knew that impulse had been nothing more than a desperate attempt to cling to the safe, to the comfort of the familiar, to his life with Daphne. An attempt to convince himself that getting back with Daphne would make everything go back to the way it was. That everything he felt for Hermione would go away.

He should have known it wouldn't work, especially when he found himself thinking about Hermione's body, the shine of her hair and everything she made him feel as he returned to the castle with the rose in his hand.

Now he felt stupid for even trying to win Daphne back. A small part of him had always known that even if he succeeded, Hermione would still haunt his thoughts.

Seeing her leave Viktor Krum's room, dishevelled and flushed, had confirmed it. A fire of irrational rage had ignited inside him, stabbing him like a dagger of jealousy he hadn't seen coming.

For a moment, he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her, from the dishevelled strands of hair falling over her shoulders, the creases in her shirt, the half undone buttons. Every detail of her had told him something he didn't want to imagine.

It was absurd that he cared so much that it hurt that way. Hermione wasn't his, she never had been, but the thought of her with Krum drove him mad. The thought of someone like that Bulgarian touching her with his big, rough hands made him sick.

In that moment, it had felt as if Krum had won a battle Draco hadn't even known he was fighting.

And then he knew that no one was ever to touch Hermione Granger again, no one but him.

But someone had touched her. Someone... some wretched person had taken her from him.

He was lost in thought when a sudden pain struck him as he stepped into the main square. This was where Daphne... where he had found her, cold and lifeless. He never thought he'd set foot in this place again.

With a deep sigh, he crossed the square and entered the shop. Madame Moore was behind the counter, sewing a delicate silk dress. When she saw him, she looked up and greeted him politely.

"Mr Malfoy, what a surprise to see you here. How can I help you?"

Draco wasted no time getting straight to the point.

"Was Hermione Granger in your shop yesterday? She came to collect her dress. Did she?"

Madame Moore frowned thoughtfully. She picked up a notebook and slowly ran her finger down the list of names.

"I'm afraid not, Mr Malfoy. I informed her that her order was ready, but she hasn't come to collect it."

Draco's stomach churned at the confirmation. Hermione never made it to the shop. Something had happened. He nodded slowly.

"I saw her leave for Hogsmeade yesterday to come here, but no one has seen her since."

"Oh dear," the woman murmured. "You're not suggesting it's the same thing that happened to that poor girl they found in the square, are you?"

Draco swallowed hard. No. That wasn't even an option in his mind.

"I'm just saying she's missing. Can you spread the word around the village?" he asked.

"Of course."

"Let me know if anyone sees her."

"I will, dear."

As he left the shop, he began to run back to the castle.

He had rarely run so much in his life.

In the blink of an eye, he burst into the Headmaster's office, where he and the magical authorities were working on the investigation into Daphne's murder.

"Hermione Granger is missing," he hurried to inform them, exhaling sharply between each word.

His arrival was followed by absolute silence for a handful of seconds. Then a witch in her fifties stood up and slammed her hand down on the desk in front of her.

"First the kidnapping and cursing of Mr Longbottom, then the murder of Miss Greengrass, and now another kidnapping. We must close the castle. No more Hogwarts students can go missing, not on my watch!"

The woman began to give instructions to her subordinates, ordering them to act immediately.

All students were to be sent home before nightfall. Someone would be in charge of notifying each student's parents or guardians, another would write an urgent report to the Ministry about the situation, and someone else would organise a search for Hermione Granger within the castle grounds and surrounding areas...

Draco could barely take in what was happening. The Headmaster's office had erupted into frantic activity, but to him it all seemed like a blur, a distant murmur.

He only returned to reality when someone began to shake him by the shoulders.

"Where was she last seen?" the headmaster's deep voice asked.

"I... I saw her walking towards Hogsmeade. She was going to Madame Moore's shop to pick up a dress, but I've just been there and she never arrived."

"Her housemates mentioned that they hadn't seen her in class this morning," interjected McGonagall, who had quietly entered the room amidst the commotion. "It seems Miss Granger didn't sleep in Gryffindor Tower last night."

Draco's mind began to race. Even if they sent him home, they couldn't force him to do nothing. He had to find something, anything, to start investigating.

Taking advantage of the adults coming and going, he slipped out of the office and headed for the Gryffindor common room. Without thinking, he used the password he had overheard Hermione using to get into the portrait and rushed inside. He heard protests, but no one dared stand in his way.

No one could stop him.

He knelt in front of Hermione's trunk and began rummaging through its contents. His normally steady hands trembled slightly as he pushed aside books, scrolls and potions. Finally, he found a small folded piece of parchment hidden in a corner.

He unfolded the paper. It was a note in Hermione's handwriting. It seemed to be a summary of Beatrice Brown's reply to her letter. Hermione had written down what she remembered after the letter self-destructed, clearly intending to find a way to save him.

His heart sank, but he began to read.

- Mrs Brown admits to having put a curse on Malfoy.

- The curse can be broken if Malfoy impregnates a Muggle-born, not a pureblood or half-blood.

- The curse has a time limit. Malfoy could die if he doesn't fulfil the requirements.

- Mrs Brown wants revenge on his family, especially Lucius, for causing her to lose her job.

- The curse also seeks to humiliate Draco Malfoy for bullying her daughter, Hannah Abbott, ever since he found out her father had chosen to live in the Muggle world as one of them.

Draco frowned at that last point.

As far as he could remember, he had never bullied Hannah Abbott. At least not in the way he did with those he really had it in for. Besides, he didn't even know that her father had decided to leave the wizarding world - why should he? He didn't even know what the man looked like.

Shaking his head, he tucked the note away and continued to search through her things for anything that might help him find out where she was, but there wasn't much else that could be of use.

By the time he returned to the common room, word had spread that Hogwarts would be closing its doors for the night, but this time with all the students on the other side of the walls.

People were asking what had happened and if the graduation ceremony had also been cancelled. Others walked around nervously. Many wondered why the hell Draco Malfoy was standing on the reddish-patterned carpet of their common room.

In short, it was very likely that the entire castle had been thrown into a frenzy by the sudden news that they had to go home.

And there, sitting in front of him, was Crookshanks, staring at him unflinchingly... as if expecting something from him.

Draco took a deep breath.

He knew Hermione would never forgive him for leaving that awful cat alone.

He cautiously approached and reached out to grab it. He expected resistance, a scratch or a bite, but none of that happened. The cat simply let itself be picked up, and Draco's pristine robes were soon covered in orange fur.

Perfect, the cat would go with him to the manor.