XXX.
Draco’s world came to an imploding halt. He rushed forward as Hermione and his father came crashing toward the ground. He caught Hermione around her waist, and they stumbled back together. Lucius Malfoy was dead.
Hermione’s nose was bleeding, and she was convulsing as if she were under the Cruciatus.
“Kippy!” he shouted.
His voice thundered through the silent space. Kippy popped in with a terrified expression painted across her delicate elf features.
“Bring me the Zabinis and Nott, now!”
Kippy’s eyes looked even larger than normal as she took in the scene around her. She vanished instantly. His mother rushed forward, retrieving her wand from Lucius’ hand as well as Draco’s.
“Accio Dittany,” he said.
Draco’s hands shook as he helped lower Hermione to the ground. Her eyes were fluttering wildly, and the tremors increased. Narcissa began treating Hermione’s open wounds with the Dittany. Each pulse of her heartbeat seemed to send more blood through the open wounds on her head and chest.
“Accio Peace drought,” she said, but none came.
His hands shook as he began to run his diagnostic spell over her. The last reports looked grim. The suffocating cloud of dark magic was permeating every part of her soul. She was having a seizure now. He recognized them from what his mother went through under constant Crutiatus curses. His scan confirmed it. He read through the parchment levitating next to his head as it listed off her blood pressure, temperature, and the rest of her vitals.
“Cold compresses,” Draco instructed his mother. “She runs high fevers once she performs this magic and has difficulty breaking them. Accio Murtlap!”
His mother nodded and left the room, leaving him alone with Hermione’s trembling form. The rigidity of her body finally started to relax. Kippy popped into the library with Pansy, Blaise, Theo, and Luna.
“Kippy, find my mother and help her,” he said.
“What the fuck?” Blaise said as he looked at Draco’s dead father.
“She killed him,” he said quietly. “I can’t have them find the body here.”
Theo and Luna knelt beside Hermione and began sorting through a bag Theo brought.
“Peaceful with some of these dried Murtlap should help with the dark magic,” Luna said.
Luna and Theo worked quickly with the vials to mix the contents together. Pansy and Blaise took out their wands and began levitating Lucius’ corpse off the ground.
“We’ll be back,” Pansy said.
They apparated with the corpse of his dead father.
“We don’t have much time before the Ministry contacts you to let you know Lucius is dead,” Theo said.
Draco tipped open Hermione’s mouth while Luna poured in the potion. Narcissa and Kippy came back in with a large basin of cold water and plenty of cloths.
“You need to get dressed,” Theo said. “They’ll Floo for you soon. You’re covered in blood.”
“It’s hers,” Draco trembled as he looked at Hermione’s broken form.
“We’ll need a story,” Luna said, looking at Narcissa and Draco.
“We were in town for the holidays,” Narcissa said, placing a damp cloth on Hermione’s forehead. “Lucius said he had business in the city, Draco and I stayed home. I wasn’t feeling well, and Draco had a headache.”
Draco nodded.
“Will they come here?” Theo asked.
He shook his head. “Too many wards. They’ll make me go to them.”
“Go shower, son,” Narcissa said. “We’ll take care of her and clean this up. Kippy?”
The house elf was staring mournfully at Hermione, but Narcissa’s words spurred her into action. She began cleaning the library and returning it to its former state.
“I’ve got her,” Theo said as Draco moved to lift her.
Theo gently scooped Hermione under his arms and lifted her. Luna grabbed the bag of potions and followed him out the door. Draco was kneeling on the floor, trying to propel himself forward. His hands were shaking. Spots of Hermione’s blood were still on the floor below him. His mother’s touch on his shoulder made him flinch.
“She’s alive,” she said.
He closed his eyes and tried to fight back the emotion. Memories flashed through him. He could hear her screams in the parlor. He could see Bellatrix poised over her torturing her.
“It’s over,” his mother said. “She’s safe.”
“Why was he here?”
“We got your owl about not coming for Christmas,” she said. “He was upset. He asked Septimus’ portrait about your habits. He told him a mudblood was here.”
Draco closed his eyes. Fucking betrayed by a portrait. He should have considered the eschewed loyalty of his purist family members.
“Draco, shower now. We’ll take care of the portraits later.”
Narcissa went to talk with Kippy in a hushed voice. He managed to make it to his bedroom and into the shower. Theo and Luna were bent over Hermione’s small form in the center of the bed. He couldn’t look for long. It’d been his fault she was hurt again. His family and their stupid purity had nearly killed her once again. He was so angry she’d used the curse. His father wasn’t a strong duelist. Draco could have overpowered him by physical force alone, he was just waiting for the knife to move away from Hermione’s major artery. He didn’t think his father would have actually killed his mother. She served as a nice bargaining chip for Lucius when he needed to get Draco in line.
But now? Draco exhaled against the pressure of the shower heads. He was free. His mother was free. Lucius was finally dead, and it looked like just another attack on Death Eaters.
But the cost had been too great. He could have found another way to silence his father. It didn’t have to come at the price of Hermione.
He turned off the shower and conjured clean clothes. He returned to the bedroom to find Hermione’s wounds nearly healed. Luna traced her wand around Hermione’s head in a weaving pattern and was humming some song he didn’t recognize.
“What is she doing?”
Theo shrugged at Draco.
“It’ll banish the bad,” Luna said. “My father used to sing it to me before bed each night to ward off nightmares. It’ll bring her resting form to a safe place.”
Kippy popped in the room.
“Master Draco has a Floo.”
He closed his eyes and apparated.
***
“We brought more potions and cool water,” Pansy whispered.
Draco was curled against Hermione’s unconscious form. He’d been called to identify his father’s body hours ago. They added it to the list of other Death Eaters that had been slain in the strange and unknown way. Smith wanted to meet with him the next morning about updates for the case. He had no idea what he was going to fucking tell him. Smith wasn’t dumb. He would know if Draco was withholding information.
Once Draco returned home, the first thing he did was burn Septimus’ portrait. He had Kippy bring in the matching set from their other home in France, and he burned that one too. He loudly announced to the other remaining portraits that their loyalty was to him and absolute. And that he was very much in love with Hermione Granger, regardless of what her bloody fucking blood status was.
“We’ve got your mother settled too,” she added. “Though Luna singing above Narcissa’s head while she banished the bad dreams was something I think you should have witnessed yourself.”
Draco didn’t want to blame Pansy, but he did. In fact, as he looked at her now, all he could think of was how furious he was that she’d made the vow in the first place. Pansy seemed to sense it and squeezed his wrist before turning to leave.
He should have acted faster. He should have intervened before she had a chance.
Nightmares assaulted Draco that evening. Every thirty minutes he was being jostled awake by memories of his sadistic aunt or father. A few even starred the Dark Lord.
Hermione was deathly still, though. He used Legilimency to investigate her state of mind frequently through the night. He was worried the prolonged exposure to dark magic and the seizure could have caused permanent damage in her brain. But he hadn’t noticed anything yet. Her mind was just a serene portrait of quiet as she slept without dreams. There was a seaside house, and the waves were crashing against the coast line below. He could hear the sound of the gulls and smell the salt in the air. It was peaceful here. Hermione was reclined and sleeping in a beach chair. He conjured a second one and joined her. It was a place that allowed both of them to be safe for the night.
***
“I’ve spent the last few days compiling a case against the removal of Potter and Weasley,” Smith said as he sat across from Draco the next morning.
It was even harder to pull himself away from Hermione this morning. Pansy, Blaise, Theo, and Luna all returned and reassured him that they’d watch over Hermione and Narcissa. But it didn’t make it easier to leave. He left Hermione on her beachfront home. He kissed her and promised he’d be home soon.
“Imagine my surprise when I see this,” Smith tossed a file at Draco.
He opened it to see Weasley’s file.
“Notice anything missing?”
Draco looked over the documentation of Weasley’s cases, personal information, and background check. But his qualifications were noticeably absent. Normally the N.E.W.T.s were the first thing on the left side.
“His scores and qualifications,” Draco said.
“Yes,” he said. “And this one?”
Potter’s file held the same missing component.
“And this one?”
Smith tossed him his file last. Draco opened it and found his list of N.E.W.T.s.
“I have mine, sir.”
“Read them.”
“Outstanding in the following areas: Potions, Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
“Keep reading.”
“Five month internship completed with Healer Tenison in the Janus Thickey Ward for the treatment of spell damages.”
Draco looked up to see Smith’s stern brows set in a hard line across his face.
“What are you doing here?”
“Working off my debt to society,” Draco answered honestly. “As a former Death Eater with advanced Legilimency capabilities the Minister deemed that my skills and attention would be better served here in the office of Aurors.”
“For how long?”
“I will have been here five years this spring.”
“I know how long you’ve been here, Malfoy. I’m asking how long you have left.”
“I haven’t been told.”
Smith wiped his hands over his face a few times before taking Draco’s file and placing it back down on his desk.
“So my best Auror wants to be a healer.”
It wasn’t a question. Draco shifted uncomfortably before him.
“I’ll see what I can do about releasing you to pursue healing,” Smith said. “You shouldn’t be held here against your will. You’re not a bloody criminal.”
“Thank you, sir,” Malfoy said.
His mind swam with the wash of possibilities that overtook him. The potential for release? He didn’t want to get his hopes up only to have them crushed immediately after. With Potter now moving up to work with the Minister he wasn’t holding his breath for any generous favors. Especially since Potter had been so publicly embarrassed by his exit from the Auror’s office.
“Let’s talk Death Eater deaths, shall we?”
Dread sank like a weight in Draco’s gut. His initial feelings of Smith were trustworthy. He’d continued to show inclusivity with his practices and leadership. But accusing higher members of the Ministry of nefarious practices felt like a death sentence. Not to mention the grating anxiety of needing to protect Granger in all this.
Draco took out one of his quick notes and scribbled across it. He handed Smith the piece of parchment that asked if the room was secure to speak freely in. Smith raised his wand and doubled the wards within his office.
“That bad, huh?” Smith asked.
Draco nodded. If he didn’t take the risk now, he might not have the chance to do so again. This could mean freedom for him and Granger.
“I have reason to believe certain Ministry personnel are raising an army of Inferi.”