Hallucinations
"Bloody arsehole, he is." Ron was grumbling angrily as he held Hermione's hand in his, lightly with a small and shy blush that reflected off of Hermione's dark skin. He kept looking over her hand over and over again, as if the wound wasn't already healed and fixed.
"Let it go, Ron," she said.
Although she had to admit Malfoy had some dam sharp teeth, she would never forget the feeling of his fangs digging into her flesh, severing her tendons with an uncomfortable crunching of her bones.
Fred and George had frantically tried to heal the wound, but instead all they did was seal the flesh and the skin, the bones still scattered and her muscles damaged. There was no pain, just numbness.
"You should go to the Wing." Ginny frowned at her, she couldn't even stomach looking at Hermione's previously mauled hand without gagging.
Hermione nodded.
"I will," she said, "after I figure out what's going on with him."
Malfoy was still seated at the couch, his body locked tight with magically transfigured vines and ropes, a patch of tape slapped over his mouth, the outline of his sharp bared teeth visible.
He was staring at Hermione with lidded eyes that had finally stopped glowing. He didn't even try to fight the force of the Twins who were staring him down, infact, he didn't even pay them any attention.
He seemed almost calm, but so petty to have been tied down like an animal. Harry thought it suited him- not in a kinky way, of course
Ron was glaring cautiously at Malfoy.
"You said that he wasn't a werewolf," he said, and Hermione nodded curtly. "Then what is he?"
She gnawed on her lower lip, fiddling with her fingers almost nervously, Harry could tell there was something she wanted to say.
Then she sighed and crossed her arms. "I might have an idea about that."
The next day wouldn't be any better.
Harry hadn't had a wink of sleep, each time he closed his eyes he could feel the tickling of fleshy hands clawing into his core, the bones trying to fuse with his, and he'd jerk wide awake once again.
He was sure Ron hadn't slept either.
They were the only ones, save from Filch, his cat and Malfoy himself who had seen the crime; Harry thought those who hadn't were very lucky.
He forced himself out of the strange comfort of his bed, surprised but relieved when he saw not a single trace of blood (or him shitting his trousers) on the sheets.
Fred and George had body bound Malfoy and kept him under George's bed, where he had been left surrounded and hid by countless used shirts and empty luggage. If he were in the mood Harry would probably have laughed at Malfoy's sorry state.
Per usual students flooded the great hall at a ridiculously early hour, grins plastered on their faces and eyes scavenging the long tables like hungry vultures seeking to feast on remains. Harry tries not to picture Umbridge's severed body served on the silver plates.
Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down in a row, in front of them were the twins and Ginny. No one made eye contact when Albus Dumbledore stood up and raised his frail arms, speaking in a breathy voice.
"Settle down, settle down."
Harry could see people's surprise on their faces across the hall. Umbridge was missing, Dumbledore was back and Trelawney wasn't sacked?
"Dumbledore's back?" He heard someone whisper.
The hall silenced down almost immediately, every curious head turned to look at the old Proffesor up front.
"Where'd you reckon Umbitch has gone off to?"
Absorbed into the cracks of the stone floor, probably.
Dumbledore lowered his arms again and placed each wrinkly hand on the wings of the petrified silver owl figure.
"I fear to announce," he started, tension hanging on his thin lips, "one of our Professors was attacked last night."
Whisperes spread like wildfire amongst the four tables, and Harry tucked his head into his shoulders. Why was everyone immediately looking at him?
"Dolores Umbridge was a woman of her time, no doubt. A powerful witch, but all things must come to an end at some point."
Harry looked at his empty plate, sweat dripping from the bridge of his crooked nose splattered onto silver, adorning imaginary ribs with the thicket of someone's blood. Red as velvet, as thick as the lump in Harry's throat.
He blinked a few times, rubbed the lenses of his glasses; tried to ignore the tremor in his hands.
Dumbledore kept on speaking, about where and when she had been found. No one ever described in what state she was found. Mauled and torn apart, eaten by filthy malicious- inhumane jaws.
Harry decided he needed to get out of the Great Hall at once, and he could feel Ron nudge him in the gut.
"Harry." Someone called his name in a hushed whisper.
"Harry!"
Fred was leaning over the table, and Harry had never seen the boy look so serious.
No one liked Umbridge, but what had happened was just wrong, even for someone like her.
"Where's Malfoy?" Harry asked suddenly in a rush of words.
Fred sat back down. "We hid him inside the one eyed witch," he said, "no one will find him by accident there."
Hermione frowned. "You just left him there? All alone? He's still not-" Everyone looked wearily at her, and she gulped down her words.
"He's not…not well. He can't be trusted alone."
Ron squinted his eyes and sneered, ever the jealous bastard.
"He's not well? 'Mione, he's not even human."
Ginny gave Ron a strict look.
"We don't know that-"
"-yet"
The small group at the end of the table fell silent, but then Hermione spoke up in a hushed whisper.
"I spent all night in the library, searching through book upon book to read about the very first generation of the Malfoys."
She made a dramatic pause, the tension and hazy anxiousness welled up even more.
"There's a rumor that hundreds of years ago they were half-breeds."
George made an audible gasp.
"The Malfoys are half-breeds?" Then he grinned slightly and looked at Fred with an evil glint. Harry knew they were just trying to lighten the mood.
"Well isn't that quite something," said Fred.
Hermione made an annoyed clicking sound at the top of her mouth with her tongue before continuing.
"No one knows for sure, but in my theory if that is true then Malfoy could be a half-breed of some sort. It could be anything from a Siren to a Veela."
Ron put his elbows on the table and sighed.
"And how do you expect us to find just what he is?"
Harry was too busy looking at Remus, who kept glancing at him with a suspicious glint in his tired eyes.
Hermione leaned in further, her bouncy dark hair draped over his shoulders.
"Veritaserum."
That caught Harry's attention.
"You mean we force the truth out of him?" He asked, "what if Malfoy himself doesn't even know about it?"
Fred snorted. "Reckon."
George grinned lightly at Harry's confused look.
"He's so obsessed with his own familyline he probably knows how long the shit was his ancestors took on the 8th of december in 1276," he joked with his usual glint of mischief, "if anyone knows it's him."
Harry nodded. "Alright," he proclaimed and got up suddenly, drawing the attention of some other students.
"Let's find out just what this twat knows."