Chapter 14
A loud crash and a sudden outburst of yelling woke Hermione and Draco. Jumping out of their beds at the same time, they nearly collided and Hermione would have fallen to the ground if not for Draco grabbing her upper arms and steadying them both. Their eyes connected and he held her for a moment longer than was necessary before Peeper, who must’ve shown up at some point during the night, made his presence known to them with a small cough.
“Master Malfoy is on his way, there is trouble in the camp,” the elf said quickly as Hermione and Draco sprang apart. They began scrambling for their outer clothes, looking guiltier than they should for the situation at hand. Within seconds they both heard Lucius screaming, getting rapidly closer.
“Draco! Draco! DRACO!” By the time the third Draco came ripping from Lucius’ throat he was tearing his way into the tent. Draco was finishing haphazardly folding his kilt around his waist and fastening his belt as his father stormed up to him and grabbed the front of his shirt.
Hermione, who had finally figured out her own charm to tie up her ridiculous outfits by herself, was fully dressed within seconds and pulling on her shoes as she watched the tense scene unfold in front of her.
“Wha’s happening, sir?” Draco asked, his voice still husky from sleep.
“We’re under attack, that’s what, ye eejit!” Lucius screamed into his son’s face. “Get yer arse out there and kill the bawbags! Now!” He released Draco and turned sharply to command his elf, “Take the witch somewhere out of the way. Lose her and I’ll come up wi’ a punishment ye havna imagined in yer worst nightmare.”
The next few seconds happened very quickly but also seemingly in slow motion. Hermione started to say that no, maybe she could help instead. Draco turned his head with a worried look in his eye and opened his mouth to say something to her. Peeper began to walk towards Hermione, holding his hand out to apparate her away. Lucius looked between his son and the witch, and Hermione watched his eyes dilate and a look of rage spread across his features.
“NO! I said now, Draco!” Lucius was practically spitting with rage. “Imperio!” His wand seemed to appear from thin air, pointed inches away from Draco’s forehead. The soft, molten grey eyes that were looking at Hermione instantly glazed over, all emotion lost. He picked up his sword in its sheath from the floor, straightened up, and headed out of the tent. Hermione only had another second to hear Lucius say something about bandits by the supply wagons before Peeper reached his destination, grabbing her hand and whisking them away to elsewhere.
Hermione and the elf reappeared in the woods, far enough away that she could no longer see signs of tents or men but not far enough that she couldn’t still hear the cacophony coming from camp.
“Peeper, take me back,” she said indignantly. “I can help from the sidelines, I have my wand, I can cast protection spells, I can disarm the bandits, you know there will be men who need healing,” Hermione listed off every reason she could think of except for the one that seemed to have taken precedence in the front of her mind.
I need to get back to Draco.
She tried to push that thought aside but when it continued to work its way back into her consciousness, she told herself it was her sense of duty and not anything having to do with emotions.
“I canna do that miss, Master gave Peeper instructions and they must be followed,” the elf said with a strong voice, although Hermione thought she could detect a hint of nervousness behind his words.
“You won’t be disobeying him though, he just said to get me out of the way,” she pleaded. “I just want to see what’s going on, I just want to be sure Dr-” Hermione faltered there. She had been about to say she wanted to be sure Draco was alright but divulging any sort of vulnerability to Lucius’ elf was a dangerous gamble.
Peeper, who had been wringing his hands throughout Hermione’s petitioning, suddenly stopped and looked at her with narrowed eyes. He seemed to be debating on something and finally said out loud, “Miss willna use magic. Peeper will take ye somewhere ye can see, but ye canna interfere.”
“Fine.” She held out her hand to the elf; he grabbed it once again and the two of them disapparated with a crack .
They reappeared again, still in the woods but closer to the small clearing they had crammed themselves into for the night. Peeper had conveniently placed them behind a large bush so Hermione could creep underneath and see everything without the risk of being seen behind all the action.
She scanned the scene in front of her. The majority of the conflict was indeed centered around the supply wagons at the tail end of the clearing. Of course they’d posted a couple of guards, but it now looked as though those guards were lying dead in front of the carts. There was a small group of ragtag men fighting their way out of the clearing, backs together, trying to protect one of their comrades who was attempting to attach one of the wagons to their own horses.
At the center of the fighting, of course, was a tall blonde head of hair. Draco didn’t have a shield this time, but was dual wielding longswords instead. She glanced around again and saw another head of blonde hair, standing nearly fifty yards away, safe from all the fighting. Coward. Lucius’ eyes were focused on his son, controlling every move he made. The imperiused Draco fought without mercy, slashing and slicing life away without hesitation. It made her sick to watch. The Draco she had gotten to know over the course of the past couple of weeks did not strike her as a person who had no regard for human life; killing so many people without consenting to commit the act had to be wearing away at his soul.
It was a short fight, at least compared to the battle Hermione had witnessed on her first day in the past. The narrow clearing was an advantage to the thieves, only so many soldiers could come at them at a time. A couple of the bandits were killed but eventually the wagon was secured to their horse and it took off for the hills. The rest of the group swiftly took off into the trees, where they split up and shook off any remaining soldiers.
“Get the horses! Find them! I want their heads and that wagon back before dusk!” Lucius was running into the chaos and shouting at anyone who would listen. Dozens of men ran off to heed his instructions, disappearing into the trees on horseback with their weapons held high. Once the scene had cleared a bit and the dust had metaphorically settled, Lucius turned to his son. Draco was standing stock still in the middle of the carnage, he hadn’t moved a muscle since Lucius’ focus was redirected. Now, however, Lucius pointed his wand at Draco again and removed the imperius curse.
“Ye’re a bloody fool, ye ken that?” He advanced towards Draco, wand still held aloft. “If ye hadna been lounging around with that damned witch maybe ye would have gotten here in time to save that supply wagon! Now because of ye, we lost days worth of food and some weapons on top of that!” Draco’s already naturally pale face grew even more so as his father approached him, his eyes widening as he took in the results of the attack around him.
Hermione could not stand it, the way this man treated his son. How was it Draco’s fault for anything that had happened if he’d been imperiused the whole time? They hadn’t been lounging around, they were simply sleeping. If Draco was so needed, why hadn’t Lucius had Peeper wake him like he had any other morning they’d been on the road? She wanted so badly to step out from her hiding place and come to Draco’s defense but she knew that would most likely only end up in punishment, and the worst of it not for her.
“Ye are so bloody useless I dinna ken why I even bothered to keep ye around! I should have kent it when ye were born ye would be no good to me! Ye killed yer mother, ye killed my wife as yer first act on this planet, I should have killed ye then and there!” Lucius spit in his son’s face. He stared a moment longer and then without warning yelled, “Crucio!”
Hermione blanched as she watched Draco drop to the ground and writhe in pain. He tried to hold in a scream, but it ended up slipping through his lips anyway. It went on for minutes until finally Hermione couldn’t stand it any longer and made to step out from behind the bush. At the same moment Lucius lifted his wand and released the curse. Hermione froze and frantically surveyed Draco’s slumped form.
The look on his face could be described as nothing but pure despair. Hermione’s heart clenched as she felt a swell of anger rise up inside her. How dare he? Childbirth was wildly dangerous in this time, even with magical intervention. How could he blame the death of his wife on an innocent newborn? How dare he torture his own son for things he truly had no control over? Lucius Malfoy was the epitome of cruelty, the worst, most evil dark wizard she had ever encountered.
There had been a dark wizard, years ago for Hermione, named Voldemort. He had killed Harry’s parents for reasons unknown, but when he had tried to kill Harry the curse had rebounded and he killed himself instead. It had been some unanticipated ancient magic that had saved Harry’s life, and after Voldemort’s spectacular failure many of the darker wizards began to move away from the lifestyle. The rest of Harry’s childhood, being raised by his parents’ best friends, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, had been the picture of peace. When Hermione finally entered the wizarding world ten years later, dark wizards were nearly a thing of myth.
Lucius Malfoy was not a myth. He was dark magic personified and he was standing mere feet away from her, threatening and torturing and belittling his only child and remaining family, and for what? She still had found no motivating factors behind Lucius’ involvement in the muggle war. No reason he should be keeping his son prisoner and using him as a human weapon.
“Ye will remain under the imperius curse for the remainder of our ride, as I canna trust ye to do yer job without constant supervision,” Lucius finally declared in a deadly whisper.
And with that statement he raised his wand yet again and shouted “Imperio!” Draco’s eyes became milky white in an instant and Hermione’s heart finally unclenched but then proceeded to drop into her stomach. A whole week under the imperius curse? It was downright torturous.
The following six days were the worst days Hermione had experienced in the eighteenth century yet. Draco didn’t interact with her, of course, other than to bark orders and yank her from one place to another before she even had a chance to move on her own. Lucius was never far behind them now, keeping a watchful eye on his son from his magical carriage. Hermione could feel his eyes on her constantly, probably hoping she was going to reveal her mysterious secret at random. It made it very hard to relax even with Bethan’s easy, loping amble.
The seventh day started out marginally better because Hermione could see a small light at the end of her dark tunnel. Hopefully, reaching their destination meant Lucius would remove the curse from Draco and she could go back to having his easy company again. Then she came to a surprisingly crushing realization that this meant the end of their silent, contentedly cozy nights together in their small tent. At least he won’t be cursed.
When her thoughts first began drifting to Draco throughout their ride she felt immensely guilty. She missed him. She missed talking to him, and laughing with him, exchanging whatever life stories they were allowed to discuss. He was slowly but surely beginning to take up more space in her brain than even Ron.
I can’t lose track of my goals; help Draco, possibly save him completely from his father, then get back home to my life and my future. She repeated this internal mantra every time she looked ahead at Draco’s back and felt the hole in her chest begin to open anew. As they drew closer to Leeds however, the voice began to grow quieter and interrupted her thoughts less frequently. Instead she began to notice the way the sun turned Draco’s hair into liquid gold, or the sharp angles of his face whenever he turned to check their surroundings. Once or twice when he jumped off Magnus, her mind strayed further into dangerous territory and pondered… I wonder if it's true they don’t wear anything under their kilts.
The next time she had that particular intrusive thought, they had arrived at their field of choice and the men were beginning to disperse to find a place to put up their camps. She shook the thought off quickly and watched as Draco made his way over to her.
“I’m to supervise the setup of camp; my father said the main tent will be ready within the hour and then ye are to remain there until he says otherwise,” Draco said to her monotonously, with milky eyes that looked right through her. He gestured in the general direction the tent would be in and left without another word, mounting Magnus and taking off for his supervision duties.
Hermione didn’t bother to reply, instead she sighed and turned Bethan around to take a long, meandering walk around the clearing before making her way toward the tent. She let the horse stop whenever she wanted, whether for a bit of grass or just to sniff something interesting. She was absolutely in no hurry to be around Lucius again.
The tent finally in her sights, she dismounted her Appaloosa and led her to the makeshift horse paddock that had already been established. Leaving Bethan with the rest of the herd, she made her way to the tent, coming up from behind it. She hadn’t seen Lucius since they had arrived and was beginning to wonder if he would be there when she entered or if she would have some time alone when she heard his voice, coming from the front of the tent.
“Everything is well then, aye?” he asked someone she couldn’t see. “Is there anything else she needs while we’re close to a town?” Hermione had yet to hear whatever this emotion was dripping from every word he spoke. It wasn’t in the least bit mean, or condescending. If anything it almost sounded… concerned. An unusual emotion from the monster she had come to know.
“Aye sir, Pearl has seen to it all, as always,” Hermione heard an elf’s small, squeaky voice reply. “Dinna fash, Master, Pearl shall ask if there is anything Mistress needs.” There was a pop and Hermione knew the elf had vanished. Not wanting it to seem obvious that she had been eavesdropping, Hermione walked a wide circle around to the front of the tent where she finally met Lucius and he ordered her inside with his usual malice.