Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Heart and Soul ❯ Chapter Fourteen ( Chapter 14 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: TassanaBurrfoot 
The Malfoys
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Drama / Hentai / Fantasy / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.02.2007 | Pages: 3 | Words: 4.3K | Visits: 628 | Status: Completed
The Malfoys
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Drama / Hentai / Fantasy / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.02.2007 | Pages: 3 | Words: 4.3K | Visits: 628 | Status: Completed
Heart and Soul
By: Tassana Burrfoot
Chapter Fourteen
It did not take long for Draco to return to Malfoy Manor. After the incident, he had simply Apparated outside school grounds.
He lay on his hunter green and black four poster bed. The Dark Lord and his followers were downstairs, rejoicing. Draco could hear the cold laughter and evil cheers as if he were part of the festivities. But, he was not. He was tired and filthy and wanted nothing more than to hide in his room until the people were gone.
He was also mortified. What had he done? Or, rather, what hadn't he done? The entire year had been coloured with his horrendous deeds. Bell's incident with the necklace, Weasley being poisoned by the mead, both had almost died. Even then, knowing what he had done, Draco could not bring himself to do it.
He had been lucky. Neither the necklace nor the mead had actually killed anyone. His hands were free from blood.
He remembered Dumbledore's final words to him. Words of forgiveness, clemency, protection. "Stupid old git," Draco growled, wishing he could actually believe his own words.
Had Dumbledore been? Somehow, Draco had this sense that Dumbledore knew what he was talking about. "Doesn't matter anymore," he told himself as he sighed, kicking off his boots and drawing his satin sheets close to him. He was still fully clothed, but he didn't care.
Dumbledore was gone. And Draco's hands were still clean. Even more, the Dark Lord had decided to let Lucius out of Azkaban, as reward for Draco's cunning intelligence for finding a way to bring the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. Draco's father was home.
Thus far, the Malfoys were safe. The Dark Lord had seemingly forgiven them for Lucius' mistake, though how long it would last, Draco was unsure. Either he or his father, maybe even his mother, were bound to screw up again.
Nevermind the fact that Aunt Bellatrix had offered Malfoy Manor to the Dark Lord to use as a sort of headquarters. Now, Death Eaters slithered in and out the manor like snakes. Any privacy the Malfoys wished to have would have to be sparse and few in-between.
Something warm touched Draco's chest causing him to jump in surprise. Then he remembered. He reached into his shirt and pulled out the silver chain. The golden forget-me-knots glistened in the firelight from his fireplace. But, it wasn't the chain that was warm.
The chain was holding a large ring. The Everlasting Soul. Draco's wedding ring. While the Heart, Hermione's ring, provided protection, the Soul would alert Draco if she were to come into danger. The hotter the ring became, the more danger she was in. If he worried about her, the ring would glow to let him know she was safe.
The forget-me-knots also served a purpose, one which Draco was certain Hermione did not know about. He had seen them in a shop in Diagon Alley when he and his mother had gone shopping last summer. While returning from Borgin & Burkes, he had stopped at the small boutique and bought them.
The forget-me-knots were designed to send messages to the pair of lovers. If they were happy, the forget-me-knots would stay close together. However, if one became angry with the other, or upset, the small flowers would separate. The flowers would then subtly remind the one hurt about the good things and the need for forgiveness.
Draco sighed as he held the ring and chain in his hands. He hadn't told Hermione about the purpose the forget-me-knots served. It wasn't because he had forgotten to mention it. He had just left it out.
He knew she would be angry with him, and she was. The small flowers were held in a sort of limbo as they desperately tried to get away from one another. If he had told her about them, she would probably have the chain off by now.
There was something else he had failed to mention. Though she now believed they were, in fact, married, that wasn't entirely true. Sure, they were, in all aspects, married, but it still wasn't completely official.
After she had left him in the hospital wing that night, he had pulled the sheets down. His bed had been covered with proof of their lovemaking. Proof of their consummation. He had taken one of the marriage papers and had placed it atop the red spot in his bed. The paper had, magically, soaked up the blood, leaving nothing on the sheets. Once he had placed the paper back atop the other papers, the blood had gone through all the papers, signing his and Hermione's names throughout the contract.
It wasn't exactly appropriate magic. Draco wasn't sure if it could be considered Dark, but it was definantly sneaky. Between their lovemaking and the spell on the papers, Draco had sealed their pact. She was his wife in just about every aspect. Save one.
Like she had assumed, they needed the ceremony. The ceremony would complete the pact and bind them together for eternity.
He knew then, as he knew now, she did not need to know this. Judging by the state of the flowers, he was certain. He would've caused far more damage if he had said something. As it was, she was probably still under the impression she could get out if she chose. He wanted to keep it that way. Let her believe whatever she wanted.
He had done things that he knew she would never forgive. He had almost caused the death of one of her best friends. Somehow, he knew Potter know about it. Had known since it happened. And if Potter knew, then Hermione knew.
Draco sneered, "Saintly Potter. Always sticking his nose where it does not belong. Probably doesn't even know the full story. Most likely gave her some half-ass lame story that would cause her to hate me forever."
As he wallowed in self-pity, a knock came from his door. He jumped, startled. Not thinking, he hastened to the door and opened it. His mother quickly stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind her. Not allowing him to protest, she threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug.
"I hope you don't mind the intrusion, dear," she whispered breathlessly, letting him go. "I just had to get away. Your Aunt Bella is going to drive me mad! She actually thinks I enjoy hearing about her love affair with the Dark Lord."
Draco raised an eyebrow, straightening his clothes as he allowed her further entry to his room. He could never dismiss his mother. "The Dark Lord doesn't have love aff--"
"I don't mean literally, Draco," she interrupted, sitting in one of his chairs by the hearth. "Oh, Merlin, she's so frustrating..."
She gave a loud huff before relaxing. She looked over to her son and her eyes widened. "The Everlasting Soul," she observed.
Draco silently swore under his breath as he joined his mother. He took the armchair next to her and sighed. He had forgotten to stick the necklace back under his robes. He was tempted to ignore her observation or tell her not to worry about it.
Too late. She reached over and touched the necklace, letting the heavy ring fall into her hand. "It's warm... Draco, where is the Heart?"
He glared at her as he snatched the ring from her fingers. He hadn't meant to be harsh with his mother, but there were some things he wasn't quite ready to reveal to her. Like the fact I had married a Muggle-born... "The Heart is safe," he told her vaguely.
"Safe? Does this mean... oh, Draco! You're getting married!" she exclaimed. Before he could protest, she threw herself into his embrace again and kissed him on the cheek. "So," she giggled, "who is she? Have I met her before? Wait until your father hears the news!"
"No!" he snapped, pushing her away. "Mum, you cannot tell Father. He cannot know yet."
She looked at him curiously, hurt fleeting across her pale blue eyes. "Why ever not? He'll be happy to see you've found the right girl."
Draco shifted uncomfortably. Shuffling his feet slightly, he confessed, "Actually, Mother, I'm already married. We consummated on my birthday. She was all ready seventeen. I had given the ring to her on her birthday. You've met her before. You're... I don't think you'll like her too much."
Narcissa gasped, "Not Pansy Parkinson?!"
"Pug-faced slut Parkinson?" he snorted, disgusted. "I think not! She would bore me to death. No, the girl I chose is far more interesting. She's smart, beautiful, and has a laugh like an angel..."
"You love her," his mother commented. She hugged him again. "Oh, you must tell me who she is!"
He looked down at his ring. It was still warm, she was still safe. He shook his head. "I can't," he told her. "It's too soon. You'll know when the time is right, I promise. For now," he put the necklace back under his shirt, "you have to promise not to say anything. Not to anyone, especially Aunt Bella and Father. No one can know."
Narcissa gave her son a suspicious look. Then, to his relief, she conceded, "All right, son. I won't say a word. Just remember you won't be able to keep her a secret forever."
Draco nodded. "Don't worry, Mother. I have no intention of keeping her a secret forever."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco was horrified of the events that took place over the next few weeks. Every spare moment he had, he would use to check his ring. Relief would swell in him when he saw she was safe.
He wished desperately that he could be with her. He hated living in constant fear, constant unknowing. He wanted to talk to her, to tell her...
Tell her what exactly? There was no excuse for the things he had done, had set into motion. He did not deserve her forgiveness and knew better than to expect it.
The Dark Lord was rising. His minions were gathering around, taking orders from him. He used Draco's home as a base. Conducted meetings there in which Draco and his family were forced to be part of. Of course, during these meetings, the Dark Lord would not fail to point out the Malfoys fall from grace.
Draco was not a Death Eater. He hadn't made any sacrifices or done anything to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord. At least, not really. The events when occurred during Draco's sixth school year, while they had caused Dumbledore's death, hadn't truly done much of anything else.
And Draco wasn't responsible for the headmaster's death. Snape was. Snape had killed Dumbledore, not Draco.
Draco had sat at the table as the Dark Lord went through the latest meeting. A woman was held upside-down, suspended in midair. Draco couldn't help but glance nervously at her periodically.
She looked familiar, but he prayed she was not. He had all ready witnessed the death of one person he knew. And he knew, whoever she was, this woman was going to die. He did not want to know her.
The Death Eaters went through their reports. Potter's name was mentioned several times, but Draco ignored it. It was always the same thing. Nothing new.
He was stunned to attention when the Dark Lord asked for Lucius' wand. He watched in agony as Lucius handed his wand over to the Dark Lord. A sickening feeling began to swirl within the depths of Draco's stomach. His father was being carelessly cast away.
He heard his Aunt Bella talking, boasting of hers and the Malfoys' loyalty to the Dark Lord. It was like listening to a love-sick girl proclaiming her undying love to a man who didn't care. Actually, as Draco thought about it, that's exactly what it was.
"Draco, will you baby-sit the pups?" the Dark Lord asked.
Horrified at being addressed by the Dark Lord, Draco cowered. He had no idea what the Dark Lord was talking about. He hadn't been paying much attention. His mother touched his hand in comfort, but Draco did not relax. Now more than ever, he wanted to escape to the sanctity of his room.
"Do you recognize this woman, Draco?" the Dark Lord inquired, indicating the woman that was suspended.
Draco could not bring himself to look at her any longer. He hastened a shake of his head to show he did not. Then, the Dark Lord told all gathered who she was.
Draco cringed. No wonder she looked familiar. Draco remembered seeing her at the staff's table at school. She was a teacher. A lively thing, too, if Draco remembered right. The few times he did notice her, she was chatting jubilantly with the other teachers.
Now, she would never do it again. To Draco's horror, he witnessed yet another murder.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco paced the length of his room. They were out there, going after Potter. Draco's ring was burning, scarring the tender flesh of his chest. Hermione was in danger, and he could do nothing.
"Darling, please calm down," his mother pleaded to him. She sat in the chair by his desk, confusion written on her face. "They are only after Potter. I wouldn't think you would have any interest..."
"Don't be ridiculous, Mother," Draco snapped, callously. "As if I'd give a damn what happened to Potty!"
Lucius, who had also been in his son's room, jabbed Draco in the side with his cane. "Don't talk back to your mother," he scolded. "If you would stop pacing and sit down like a civilized person, she wouldn't draw such conclusions."
Draco couldn't sit. Sitting just made things worse. He wanted to do something. He wanted to see her again, to help her. The worry was driving him mad.
He carelessly raked a hand through his white-blond hair and prayed for the umpteenth time that she would be safe. "There's got to be something I can do," he said to himself, momentarily forgetting his parents were in the room with him.
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "What do you expect to do?" he inquired, curiously. "Do you intend to help the Dark Lord?"
Draco started. He stared at his father as if the man had suddenly sprouted an extra head. "Why on Earth would I wish to do that?" he asked, fear gripping him.
Narcissa stood up and walked to her son. She took his arm and pulled him into an embrace. Almost immediately, she pushed him away, shocked. Her eyebrows flared up as she placed a hand on her chest. "She's in danger," she hissed. "That's why you are worried."
"Who's in danger?" Lucius questioned, his face contorted in confusion.
Draco's entire body shook as he began to lose his nerve. He couldn't hide it from his father any longer. And it hadn't even been long since he had told his mother. Mere days, actually. "My wife, Father," he answered to Lucius' surprise. "She's out there tonight, I know. I don't know what's going on, don't know where she is. She could be injured, dying..."
Narcissa shook her head as she pulled her son into an embrace. Stroking his back, she assured him, "If she were either, your ring would turn cold... Cool for injured, frozen for death. She's in danger, yes. But, for the moment, she's okay."
This did not reassure Draco. He pulled out of her embrace and began pacing the length of his fireplace again. "That doesn't make it any easier. She's still in danger. There's still a chance she could..."
"Hold on," Lucius demanded. "When did you get married? Why wasn't I informed? Who's the girl?"
Draco shook his head. "Father, you know the magic. She wears the Heart. If I say her name, the protection spell on the Heart could falter, leaving her momentarily vulnerable. I can't speak her name until I'm certain she's safe. I refuse to speak it until I see her face again. I don't want to risk the Dark Lord finding out."
"You talk as though the Dark Lord would actually care who you marry," Narcissa snipped, sarcastically. She gave a short laugh. "As long as it's not some nasty little Mud..."
Narcissa stopped and stared at him in wide-eyed shock at Draco. He could tell that she knew. He stood straight and tall. He gave her a short nod to confirm her suspicion. Lucius had to grab his wife by the shoulders to prevent her from attacking their son.
"Let me go, Lucius!" she snarled. "I want to kill him!"
Lucius grabbed her wand before she had a chance and threw it away from them. "Narcissa, calm down," he ordered.
She struggled against his steel grip. "He's done it! He's turned traitor on us, Lucius," she cried. "He's... he's..."
She fell into a fit of tears. Lucius held her in his arms as she cried. He stared at his son, unasked questions floating in his gray eyes.
Draco knew his mother was crushed. To her, he had betrayed them all. Surprisingly, he was not ashamed. He couldn't bring himself to be ashamed. He was in love. He pointed his wand to the door and whispered, "Muffliato!"
He neither wanted nor needed anyone to hear their conversation by accident. He swept his want to his window and repeated the spell.
Lucius, still holding his sobbing wife, glared at his son. "Where did you learn that spell?" he asked.
Draco sighed, "She used it the night we..."
"Don't say it!" Narcissa hissed. "I will not hear it again!" Her red-rimmed eyes stared at Draco. "How?" she whispered, coughing. "How could you do this to us?"
"You talk like I did it intentionally," he snapped. He bent down and picked up her wand. No doubt, his father would soon learn who they were speaking of. Lucius would then try to make a grab for the wand himself. "You honestly think I would choose to fall into her lot? In case you've forgotten, she saved my life..."
Recognition dawned on Lucius' face, causing Draco to clamp his mouth shut. "Granger?" the older man questioned in disbelief. "That filthy little Mudblood who worships Potter?"
Draco glared at his father. "Don't call her that. She doesn't worship Potter. She just helps him. They're friends."
Draco could tell his father was struggling between absolute hatred and anguish. All colour, or what little remained, drained from the man's face.
Draco could see this was going no where. "Look," he explained, "when I lost my magic, she helped me. She took me in and cared for me. She didn't have to. No one forced it on her. I could've stayed at St. Mungo's. Instead, she placed the burden on herself.
"I thought it was over. My magic was gone, I was done. But, she had faith in me. She pushed and prodded. Everyday, she made sure I studied and learned new spells, though I could not perform them.
"More important, she taught me how to live. She took me out and opened my senses to the world around me. I'd never been as happy as I was when I was with her. Even now, she's the only thing that keeps me going."
If looks could kill, Draco would've been dead twice. Both of his parents were glaring at him in a mixture of anger and disgust. "We should disown you," his mother sneered at him. "I have never heard such filth come out of your mouth."
"Unfortunately, we can't disown him," Lucius told her, though Draco could tell the man agreed with his wife. "He is the last in line and you can no longer bare children. If we were to disown him, our blood would be dead."
"Is it not dead all ready?" she demanded. "That Mudblood hold the Heart. Our line has been spoiled with filth!"
Draco rolled his eyes. Apparently it had escaped them that Evalon Malfoy, one of the starters of the Malfoy line, was in fact Half-Blood. "Or enhanced," he pointed out, both to his own surprise and theirs.
"Enhanced?" Lucius spat. "Where in Hell did that idea come from?"
Draco sighed. Must he explain everything? He did not even know what he had meant. Then, it occurred to him. "Compared to her, we are idiots," he said. Before they could lash out, he explained, "Think about it.
"In my second year at Hogwarts, you, Father, made a huge mistake. You put that book in Ginny Weasley's cauldron and seriously angered the Dark Lord. Then, to further anger him, last year, you lost the prophecy.
"I've done my share of stupid things. All year I've been trying to kill Dumbledore. And I failed horrendously due to my own stupidity. In the process, I almost killed two innocent people who had nothing to do with it. Let me correct myself, I almost accidentally killed two innocent people. Though, I wouldn't have been affected by their deaths, it was still sloppy and foolhardy of me."
He glanced at his parents. They were listening, even if they were still seething in anger. His mother had her arms folded across her chest. She was no longer being held by her husband. Lucius stood next to her, his hand resting on his cane.
Seeing that they weren't going to protest, Draco continued, "I did not think on it until later. During my second year, she had been put in the hospital. Before she had been Petrified, according to the rumours, she had attempted to take a potion and it backfired on her. Had given her whiskers and a furry face. It wasn't until much later that it dawned on me, she had attempted to take Polyjuice Potion.
"It was then I realized what had happened. Crabbe and Goyle had been acting strange. Their voices sounded a bit off. It wasn't Crabbe and Goyle, but Potter and Weasley. I don't know who was who, but they had tricked me, trying to discern information on the Heir of Slytherin.
"She had made that potion, yet she was only thirteen years old. Even though she is Muggle-born, she was able to perform a lot of spells before we even began our first year.
"When I had been with her last summer, she had impressed me with her knowledge on the Malfoy family. She did not have access to the Hogwarts library, yet she was able to figure out our roots."
"She had gone somewhere to look it up," Narcissa stated. "Any idiot could do that."
"And yet we don't," Draco observed, letting the insinuation slide effortlessly off his tongue. "But, there's more.
"She helped Potter during the Triwizard Tournament. She formed Dumbledore's Army. Thus far, no one has bested her in school. She's got the topmost marks. Higher than my own and I've been within the Wizarding World my entire life."
Lucius glowered at his son. "You are speaking of academics. Things you can find out in books, added with a bit of cleverness. You have yet to explain what a Mudblood can offer our family."
Draco knew his father was right. He heard the front door open, then slam shut. Quickly, he turned to his parents and whispered, "She's determined. When she decides on something, she's stubborn enough to see it to it's completion. Furthermore, she's not known to fail. She refuses to give up or back down. She and Potter plan on taking the Dark Lord. I have no doubt..."
A blood-curling scream rent the air, interrupting Draco. Ollivander, the wandmaker who had fashioned Draco's wand, was being tortured by the Dark Lord. From the sound of it, the Dark Lord was extremely angry.
Draco gave his parents a meaningful look. "...They will succeed," he finished as his ring finally stopped burning and remained warm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~
Author's Note: Yeah, I know. It's a bit rushed. Originally, this was separated into two chapters, but then I decided to combine them. I realize Narcissa seemed more upset than Lucius, but you have to remember where we are in the story. Lucius doesn't have a wand. And, if you read closely, Draco has his mother's wand. Course, that doesn't mean Lucius couldn't have used his cane, but then again, is he really that stupid? Especially when his son is holding not one, but two wands?
By: Tassana Burrfoot
Chapter Fourteen
It did not take long for Draco to return to Malfoy Manor. After the incident, he had simply Apparated outside school grounds.
He lay on his hunter green and black four poster bed. The Dark Lord and his followers were downstairs, rejoicing. Draco could hear the cold laughter and evil cheers as if he were part of the festivities. But, he was not. He was tired and filthy and wanted nothing more than to hide in his room until the people were gone.
He was also mortified. What had he done? Or, rather, what hadn't he done? The entire year had been coloured with his horrendous deeds. Bell's incident with the necklace, Weasley being poisoned by the mead, both had almost died. Even then, knowing what he had done, Draco could not bring himself to do it.
He had been lucky. Neither the necklace nor the mead had actually killed anyone. His hands were free from blood.
He remembered Dumbledore's final words to him. Words of forgiveness, clemency, protection. "Stupid old git," Draco growled, wishing he could actually believe his own words.
Had Dumbledore been? Somehow, Draco had this sense that Dumbledore knew what he was talking about. "Doesn't matter anymore," he told himself as he sighed, kicking off his boots and drawing his satin sheets close to him. He was still fully clothed, but he didn't care.
Dumbledore was gone. And Draco's hands were still clean. Even more, the Dark Lord had decided to let Lucius out of Azkaban, as reward for Draco's cunning intelligence for finding a way to bring the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. Draco's father was home.
Thus far, the Malfoys were safe. The Dark Lord had seemingly forgiven them for Lucius' mistake, though how long it would last, Draco was unsure. Either he or his father, maybe even his mother, were bound to screw up again.
Nevermind the fact that Aunt Bellatrix had offered Malfoy Manor to the Dark Lord to use as a sort of headquarters. Now, Death Eaters slithered in and out the manor like snakes. Any privacy the Malfoys wished to have would have to be sparse and few in-between.
Something warm touched Draco's chest causing him to jump in surprise. Then he remembered. He reached into his shirt and pulled out the silver chain. The golden forget-me-knots glistened in the firelight from his fireplace. But, it wasn't the chain that was warm.
The chain was holding a large ring. The Everlasting Soul. Draco's wedding ring. While the Heart, Hermione's ring, provided protection, the Soul would alert Draco if she were to come into danger. The hotter the ring became, the more danger she was in. If he worried about her, the ring would glow to let him know she was safe.
The forget-me-knots also served a purpose, one which Draco was certain Hermione did not know about. He had seen them in a shop in Diagon Alley when he and his mother had gone shopping last summer. While returning from Borgin & Burkes, he had stopped at the small boutique and bought them.
The forget-me-knots were designed to send messages to the pair of lovers. If they were happy, the forget-me-knots would stay close together. However, if one became angry with the other, or upset, the small flowers would separate. The flowers would then subtly remind the one hurt about the good things and the need for forgiveness.
Draco sighed as he held the ring and chain in his hands. He hadn't told Hermione about the purpose the forget-me-knots served. It wasn't because he had forgotten to mention it. He had just left it out.
He knew she would be angry with him, and she was. The small flowers were held in a sort of limbo as they desperately tried to get away from one another. If he had told her about them, she would probably have the chain off by now.
There was something else he had failed to mention. Though she now believed they were, in fact, married, that wasn't entirely true. Sure, they were, in all aspects, married, but it still wasn't completely official.
After she had left him in the hospital wing that night, he had pulled the sheets down. His bed had been covered with proof of their lovemaking. Proof of their consummation. He had taken one of the marriage papers and had placed it atop the red spot in his bed. The paper had, magically, soaked up the blood, leaving nothing on the sheets. Once he had placed the paper back atop the other papers, the blood had gone through all the papers, signing his and Hermione's names throughout the contract.
It wasn't exactly appropriate magic. Draco wasn't sure if it could be considered Dark, but it was definantly sneaky. Between their lovemaking and the spell on the papers, Draco had sealed their pact. She was his wife in just about every aspect. Save one.
Like she had assumed, they needed the ceremony. The ceremony would complete the pact and bind them together for eternity.
He knew then, as he knew now, she did not need to know this. Judging by the state of the flowers, he was certain. He would've caused far more damage if he had said something. As it was, she was probably still under the impression she could get out if she chose. He wanted to keep it that way. Let her believe whatever she wanted.
He had done things that he knew she would never forgive. He had almost caused the death of one of her best friends. Somehow, he knew Potter know about it. Had known since it happened. And if Potter knew, then Hermione knew.
Draco sneered, "Saintly Potter. Always sticking his nose where it does not belong. Probably doesn't even know the full story. Most likely gave her some half-ass lame story that would cause her to hate me forever."
As he wallowed in self-pity, a knock came from his door. He jumped, startled. Not thinking, he hastened to the door and opened it. His mother quickly stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind her. Not allowing him to protest, she threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug.
"I hope you don't mind the intrusion, dear," she whispered breathlessly, letting him go. "I just had to get away. Your Aunt Bella is going to drive me mad! She actually thinks I enjoy hearing about her love affair with the Dark Lord."
Draco raised an eyebrow, straightening his clothes as he allowed her further entry to his room. He could never dismiss his mother. "The Dark Lord doesn't have love aff--"
"I don't mean literally, Draco," she interrupted, sitting in one of his chairs by the hearth. "Oh, Merlin, she's so frustrating..."
She gave a loud huff before relaxing. She looked over to her son and her eyes widened. "The Everlasting Soul," she observed.
Draco silently swore under his breath as he joined his mother. He took the armchair next to her and sighed. He had forgotten to stick the necklace back under his robes. He was tempted to ignore her observation or tell her not to worry about it.
Too late. She reached over and touched the necklace, letting the heavy ring fall into her hand. "It's warm... Draco, where is the Heart?"
He glared at her as he snatched the ring from her fingers. He hadn't meant to be harsh with his mother, but there were some things he wasn't quite ready to reveal to her. Like the fact I had married a Muggle-born... "The Heart is safe," he told her vaguely.
"Safe? Does this mean... oh, Draco! You're getting married!" she exclaimed. Before he could protest, she threw herself into his embrace again and kissed him on the cheek. "So," she giggled, "who is she? Have I met her before? Wait until your father hears the news!"
"No!" he snapped, pushing her away. "Mum, you cannot tell Father. He cannot know yet."
She looked at him curiously, hurt fleeting across her pale blue eyes. "Why ever not? He'll be happy to see you've found the right girl."
Draco shifted uncomfortably. Shuffling his feet slightly, he confessed, "Actually, Mother, I'm already married. We consummated on my birthday. She was all ready seventeen. I had given the ring to her on her birthday. You've met her before. You're... I don't think you'll like her too much."
Narcissa gasped, "Not Pansy Parkinson?!"
"Pug-faced slut Parkinson?" he snorted, disgusted. "I think not! She would bore me to death. No, the girl I chose is far more interesting. She's smart, beautiful, and has a laugh like an angel..."
"You love her," his mother commented. She hugged him again. "Oh, you must tell me who she is!"
He looked down at his ring. It was still warm, she was still safe. He shook his head. "I can't," he told her. "It's too soon. You'll know when the time is right, I promise. For now," he put the necklace back under his shirt, "you have to promise not to say anything. Not to anyone, especially Aunt Bella and Father. No one can know."
Narcissa gave her son a suspicious look. Then, to his relief, she conceded, "All right, son. I won't say a word. Just remember you won't be able to keep her a secret forever."
Draco nodded. "Don't worry, Mother. I have no intention of keeping her a secret forever."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco was horrified of the events that took place over the next few weeks. Every spare moment he had, he would use to check his ring. Relief would swell in him when he saw she was safe.
He wished desperately that he could be with her. He hated living in constant fear, constant unknowing. He wanted to talk to her, to tell her...
Tell her what exactly? There was no excuse for the things he had done, had set into motion. He did not deserve her forgiveness and knew better than to expect it.
The Dark Lord was rising. His minions were gathering around, taking orders from him. He used Draco's home as a base. Conducted meetings there in which Draco and his family were forced to be part of. Of course, during these meetings, the Dark Lord would not fail to point out the Malfoys fall from grace.
Draco was not a Death Eater. He hadn't made any sacrifices or done anything to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord. At least, not really. The events when occurred during Draco's sixth school year, while they had caused Dumbledore's death, hadn't truly done much of anything else.
And Draco wasn't responsible for the headmaster's death. Snape was. Snape had killed Dumbledore, not Draco.
Draco had sat at the table as the Dark Lord went through the latest meeting. A woman was held upside-down, suspended in midair. Draco couldn't help but glance nervously at her periodically.
She looked familiar, but he prayed she was not. He had all ready witnessed the death of one person he knew. And he knew, whoever she was, this woman was going to die. He did not want to know her.
The Death Eaters went through their reports. Potter's name was mentioned several times, but Draco ignored it. It was always the same thing. Nothing new.
He was stunned to attention when the Dark Lord asked for Lucius' wand. He watched in agony as Lucius handed his wand over to the Dark Lord. A sickening feeling began to swirl within the depths of Draco's stomach. His father was being carelessly cast away.
He heard his Aunt Bella talking, boasting of hers and the Malfoys' loyalty to the Dark Lord. It was like listening to a love-sick girl proclaiming her undying love to a man who didn't care. Actually, as Draco thought about it, that's exactly what it was.
"Draco, will you baby-sit the pups?" the Dark Lord asked.
Horrified at being addressed by the Dark Lord, Draco cowered. He had no idea what the Dark Lord was talking about. He hadn't been paying much attention. His mother touched his hand in comfort, but Draco did not relax. Now more than ever, he wanted to escape to the sanctity of his room.
"Do you recognize this woman, Draco?" the Dark Lord inquired, indicating the woman that was suspended.
Draco could not bring himself to look at her any longer. He hastened a shake of his head to show he did not. Then, the Dark Lord told all gathered who she was.
Draco cringed. No wonder she looked familiar. Draco remembered seeing her at the staff's table at school. She was a teacher. A lively thing, too, if Draco remembered right. The few times he did notice her, she was chatting jubilantly with the other teachers.
Now, she would never do it again. To Draco's horror, he witnessed yet another murder.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco paced the length of his room. They were out there, going after Potter. Draco's ring was burning, scarring the tender flesh of his chest. Hermione was in danger, and he could do nothing.
"Darling, please calm down," his mother pleaded to him. She sat in the chair by his desk, confusion written on her face. "They are only after Potter. I wouldn't think you would have any interest..."
"Don't be ridiculous, Mother," Draco snapped, callously. "As if I'd give a damn what happened to Potty!"
Lucius, who had also been in his son's room, jabbed Draco in the side with his cane. "Don't talk back to your mother," he scolded. "If you would stop pacing and sit down like a civilized person, she wouldn't draw such conclusions."
Draco couldn't sit. Sitting just made things worse. He wanted to do something. He wanted to see her again, to help her. The worry was driving him mad.
He carelessly raked a hand through his white-blond hair and prayed for the umpteenth time that she would be safe. "There's got to be something I can do," he said to himself, momentarily forgetting his parents were in the room with him.
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "What do you expect to do?" he inquired, curiously. "Do you intend to help the Dark Lord?"
Draco started. He stared at his father as if the man had suddenly sprouted an extra head. "Why on Earth would I wish to do that?" he asked, fear gripping him.
Narcissa stood up and walked to her son. She took his arm and pulled him into an embrace. Almost immediately, she pushed him away, shocked. Her eyebrows flared up as she placed a hand on her chest. "She's in danger," she hissed. "That's why you are worried."
"Who's in danger?" Lucius questioned, his face contorted in confusion.
Draco's entire body shook as he began to lose his nerve. He couldn't hide it from his father any longer. And it hadn't even been long since he had told his mother. Mere days, actually. "My wife, Father," he answered to Lucius' surprise. "She's out there tonight, I know. I don't know what's going on, don't know where she is. She could be injured, dying..."
Narcissa shook her head as she pulled her son into an embrace. Stroking his back, she assured him, "If she were either, your ring would turn cold... Cool for injured, frozen for death. She's in danger, yes. But, for the moment, she's okay."
This did not reassure Draco. He pulled out of her embrace and began pacing the length of his fireplace again. "That doesn't make it any easier. She's still in danger. There's still a chance she could..."
"Hold on," Lucius demanded. "When did you get married? Why wasn't I informed? Who's the girl?"
Draco shook his head. "Father, you know the magic. She wears the Heart. If I say her name, the protection spell on the Heart could falter, leaving her momentarily vulnerable. I can't speak her name until I'm certain she's safe. I refuse to speak it until I see her face again. I don't want to risk the Dark Lord finding out."
"You talk as though the Dark Lord would actually care who you marry," Narcissa snipped, sarcastically. She gave a short laugh. "As long as it's not some nasty little Mud..."
Narcissa stopped and stared at him in wide-eyed shock at Draco. He could tell that she knew. He stood straight and tall. He gave her a short nod to confirm her suspicion. Lucius had to grab his wife by the shoulders to prevent her from attacking their son.
"Let me go, Lucius!" she snarled. "I want to kill him!"
Lucius grabbed her wand before she had a chance and threw it away from them. "Narcissa, calm down," he ordered.
She struggled against his steel grip. "He's done it! He's turned traitor on us, Lucius," she cried. "He's... he's..."
She fell into a fit of tears. Lucius held her in his arms as she cried. He stared at his son, unasked questions floating in his gray eyes.
Draco knew his mother was crushed. To her, he had betrayed them all. Surprisingly, he was not ashamed. He couldn't bring himself to be ashamed. He was in love. He pointed his wand to the door and whispered, "Muffliato!"
He neither wanted nor needed anyone to hear their conversation by accident. He swept his want to his window and repeated the spell.
Lucius, still holding his sobbing wife, glared at his son. "Where did you learn that spell?" he asked.
Draco sighed, "She used it the night we..."
"Don't say it!" Narcissa hissed. "I will not hear it again!" Her red-rimmed eyes stared at Draco. "How?" she whispered, coughing. "How could you do this to us?"
"You talk like I did it intentionally," he snapped. He bent down and picked up her wand. No doubt, his father would soon learn who they were speaking of. Lucius would then try to make a grab for the wand himself. "You honestly think I would choose to fall into her lot? In case you've forgotten, she saved my life..."
Recognition dawned on Lucius' face, causing Draco to clamp his mouth shut. "Granger?" the older man questioned in disbelief. "That filthy little Mudblood who worships Potter?"
Draco glared at his father. "Don't call her that. She doesn't worship Potter. She just helps him. They're friends."
Draco could tell his father was struggling between absolute hatred and anguish. All colour, or what little remained, drained from the man's face.
Draco could see this was going no where. "Look," he explained, "when I lost my magic, she helped me. She took me in and cared for me. She didn't have to. No one forced it on her. I could've stayed at St. Mungo's. Instead, she placed the burden on herself.
"I thought it was over. My magic was gone, I was done. But, she had faith in me. She pushed and prodded. Everyday, she made sure I studied and learned new spells, though I could not perform them.
"More important, she taught me how to live. She took me out and opened my senses to the world around me. I'd never been as happy as I was when I was with her. Even now, she's the only thing that keeps me going."
If looks could kill, Draco would've been dead twice. Both of his parents were glaring at him in a mixture of anger and disgust. "We should disown you," his mother sneered at him. "I have never heard such filth come out of your mouth."
"Unfortunately, we can't disown him," Lucius told her, though Draco could tell the man agreed with his wife. "He is the last in line and you can no longer bare children. If we were to disown him, our blood would be dead."
"Is it not dead all ready?" she demanded. "That Mudblood hold the Heart. Our line has been spoiled with filth!"
Draco rolled his eyes. Apparently it had escaped them that Evalon Malfoy, one of the starters of the Malfoy line, was in fact Half-Blood. "Or enhanced," he pointed out, both to his own surprise and theirs.
"Enhanced?" Lucius spat. "Where in Hell did that idea come from?"
Draco sighed. Must he explain everything? He did not even know what he had meant. Then, it occurred to him. "Compared to her, we are idiots," he said. Before they could lash out, he explained, "Think about it.
"In my second year at Hogwarts, you, Father, made a huge mistake. You put that book in Ginny Weasley's cauldron and seriously angered the Dark Lord. Then, to further anger him, last year, you lost the prophecy.
"I've done my share of stupid things. All year I've been trying to kill Dumbledore. And I failed horrendously due to my own stupidity. In the process, I almost killed two innocent people who had nothing to do with it. Let me correct myself, I almost accidentally killed two innocent people. Though, I wouldn't have been affected by their deaths, it was still sloppy and foolhardy of me."
He glanced at his parents. They were listening, even if they were still seething in anger. His mother had her arms folded across her chest. She was no longer being held by her husband. Lucius stood next to her, his hand resting on his cane.
Seeing that they weren't going to protest, Draco continued, "I did not think on it until later. During my second year, she had been put in the hospital. Before she had been Petrified, according to the rumours, she had attempted to take a potion and it backfired on her. Had given her whiskers and a furry face. It wasn't until much later that it dawned on me, she had attempted to take Polyjuice Potion.
"It was then I realized what had happened. Crabbe and Goyle had been acting strange. Their voices sounded a bit off. It wasn't Crabbe and Goyle, but Potter and Weasley. I don't know who was who, but they had tricked me, trying to discern information on the Heir of Slytherin.
"She had made that potion, yet she was only thirteen years old. Even though she is Muggle-born, she was able to perform a lot of spells before we even began our first year.
"When I had been with her last summer, she had impressed me with her knowledge on the Malfoy family. She did not have access to the Hogwarts library, yet she was able to figure out our roots."
"She had gone somewhere to look it up," Narcissa stated. "Any idiot could do that."
"And yet we don't," Draco observed, letting the insinuation slide effortlessly off his tongue. "But, there's more.
"She helped Potter during the Triwizard Tournament. She formed Dumbledore's Army. Thus far, no one has bested her in school. She's got the topmost marks. Higher than my own and I've been within the Wizarding World my entire life."
Lucius glowered at his son. "You are speaking of academics. Things you can find out in books, added with a bit of cleverness. You have yet to explain what a Mudblood can offer our family."
Draco knew his father was right. He heard the front door open, then slam shut. Quickly, he turned to his parents and whispered, "She's determined. When she decides on something, she's stubborn enough to see it to it's completion. Furthermore, she's not known to fail. She refuses to give up or back down. She and Potter plan on taking the Dark Lord. I have no doubt..."
A blood-curling scream rent the air, interrupting Draco. Ollivander, the wandmaker who had fashioned Draco's wand, was being tortured by the Dark Lord. From the sound of it, the Dark Lord was extremely angry.
Draco gave his parents a meaningful look. "...They will succeed," he finished as his ring finally stopped burning and remained warm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~
Author's Note: Yeah, I know. It's a bit rushed. Originally, this was separated into two chapters, but then I decided to combine them. I realize Narcissa seemed more upset than Lucius, but you have to remember where we are in the story. Lucius doesn't have a wand. And, if you read closely, Draco has his mother's wand. Course, that doesn't mean Lucius couldn't have used his cane, but then again, is he really that stupid? Especially when his son is holding not one, but two wands?