Jarvey
Join Date: Feb 2011 Location: Orlando, FL
Posts: 666
Hogwarts RPG Name: Melina Morninglory- "Glory" Second Year | WizWorld Universal / Tom Felton for President Chapter 33: Taking Sides 6 Jan. (evening)
Tension hung heavy in the kitchen at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Everyone had something to say, but no one knew how to begin. Dumbledore finally broke the silence.
“Well, it seems we have a rather unexpected situation on our hands. Molly, how is Hermione faring?”
The red-headed woman sighed heavily. “She’s resting, thankfully. She should make a full recovery.”
“That’s good news,” smiled the Headmaster. “And Draco, where is he?” Underneath the table, Ron’s right hand curled into a tight fist.
“Remus took him up to a room to rest, and is remaining outside the door to keep a watch on him,” replied Kingsley, leaning his hulky form against the table. “He’s sound asleep.”
Dumbledore’s smile faltered just a little, and concern crinkled the corners of his eyes. He sighed. “Well, suffice it to say that he needs it as much as Hermione does.”
A low grumble emanated from the group of teens at the far end of the table. Ron couldn’t hold back any longer. “So we’re all supposed to be happy that the little prat is sleeping like a baby, like he’s some kind of bloody hero? Are we forgetting how he’s always treated Hermione- he doesn’t give a damn about her, we know that! He held up his hand to silence his mother, who was about to tell him to watch his mouth. “No! How can you people even begin to believe him?! This is complete rubbish!"
“Because Hermione said we should,” spoke Jean. “She was absolutely insistent.” Tonks and Molly nodded their heads in assent.
“And I spoke with him,” added Tom, “and he seemed quite sincere to me.”
“You don’t know him, or his family,” Mad-Eye interjected. “They’re Death Eaters, all of them. Very high-up in Voldemort’s army. Their entire history is full to the gills with dark magic. They’re some of the worst of that breed. Don’t tell me that sonny-boy up there is turning out to be a saint; I’d just as soon believe that the Dark Lord is home baking biscuits!”
“But you saw him today- he was beside himself worrying, and Hermione wanted him by her side,” spoke Tonks, her mousy brown hair changing slightly scarlet. “We need to give him a chance to explain.”
Mad-Eye growled at her. “Just because the little rat is your cousin, don’t jump to defend him!” Tonks was about to fire a retort when Ginny added her support. Ron wasn’t the only teen in the room who could voice an opinion.
“But he still brought her here, knowing everyone hates him, and begged us to help her. She’s here safe because of him.”
Ron wheeled around and glared at her. “Shut up, Ginny! No one gives a damn what you think!” Ginny went red in the face, stung by her brother’s words. As her parents jumped on Ron for his rudeness, she turned her head to Harry, sitting next to her. Instead of support, or indignation on her behalf, he regarded her with narrowed eyes and a frown.
“Why would you stick up for him, Ginny? That’s the third time now! Since when did you start believing in Malfoy?” he asked, hurt and bitterness lacing his words.
“I’m not saying I believe him,” she pleaded, “I’m just stating a fact-”
By this point, the arguments for and against Draco were mounting as friends and family took opposing sides. Civility was disintegrating as tempers flared.
Dumbledore finally stood and held up his hands, raising his voice above the din. “Will everyone please calm down!” he commanded and the room went quiet.
“Arguing at this time is pointless, for we haven’t enough information to even begin weighing the truth of Draco’s, or Hermione’s words. We simply do not know what happened yet. The fact of the matter is that Hermione is safe and Draco has brought her here and asked our help. That must be taken into account. For now, I implore you to bring this discussion to an end for the day; rationality departs when the hour grows late. Let’s all rest tonight, and look at this with cooler heads in the morning.” With that, the old wizard turned toward the door and left. A moment later, the fireplace blazed green and he was gone.
The others were left to grudgingly end their dispute for the evening. Molly sent Ginny, Fred and George home for the night; Ron insisted on staying close to Hermione. Against her better judgment, and with Arthur’s encouragement, she agreed to let her son stay behind. Harry refused to leave as well.
Tom and Jean were already heading into the parlor where their daughter was sleeping, and Tonks went to the stairs to join Remus. Kingsley agreed to return in the morning, and Mad-Eye stayed at the table, not moving. There was no way he was leaving with a Death Eater’s kid upstairs.
****
A shrill scream pierced the air in the middle of the night. Ron jumped nearly a foot off the floor where he’d been sleeping beside Hermione. Her parents started and leapt from their couch. Hermione was sitting up, stiff as a board, with her eyes wide open and terrified. She looked around wildly without seeing, her face pale and coated with sweat. “Nooo, no, PLEASE NO!!!” she wailed, shielding herself from an invisible captor. “Leave me alone, don’t hurt me, PLEASE!!” She gripped her blanket and pushed herself back against the arm of the couch, cowering from the visions in her nightmare.
Ron was first to touch her. “Hermione! Hermione, wake up! It’s just a dream! Come on, just wake up, it’s okay!” he repeated, holding her hand and placing his other hand on her head to stroke her hair. Hermione pulled away from him, still held captive in her dream, pulling her knees up to her chest to fend off her unseen attacker. Tom and Jean knelt by her, trying in vain to wake her but getting nowhere, cringing at their daughter’s agonized cries. “DRACO!! DRACO, WHERE ARE YOU?!?! PLEASE, DRACO!” she began screaming again and again, like a terrified mantra. Ron dropped her hand as if it had burned him and he stood up, staggering back a few steps. His face was twisted with hurt and disbelief.
“Tom, get Draco!” shouted Jean as she held onto Hermione, attempting to soothe her through her screams. Tom raced up the stairs. In an instant, it seemed, he was back down with the young man in tow. Draco was still shaking himself out of the fog of sleep, but hearing his name in Hermione’s cries cleared his head immediately. In a flash he was by her side.
He knelt beside her and took her face in his hands. “I’m here, Hermione, I’m right here. Look at me, sweetheart. Just look at me, I’m right here.” His voice, soft and insistent, and his hands holding her face, brought Hermione out of her night terror. She grabbed for him with both hands, wide-eyed and shaking, tears forming in their corners.
She buried her head in his neck. “Please, please don’t leave me, please Draco! I’m scared, I’m-”
“Safe. You’re safe now,” he finished for her. “And I’ll never leave you, never. I’m always right here. It’s all over now…I’m here,” he breathed, and held her in a tight embrace. She gripped him as if he’d float away if she let go. He climbed onto the couch and sat behind her, pulling her back against his chest and wrapping his arms around her.
She still held onto his arms, but she visibly relaxed as her body came in contact with his. She closed her eyes,and her breathing slowed. “I’m…you’re here…okay,” she managed, and snuggled into his chest.
He nuzzled her hair with his cheek and kissed the top of her head. “Go to sleep, Hermione. I’ll be right here,” he whispered against her hair, squeezing her gently with his arms. She nodded sleepily and fell back into a more peaceful slumber.
Jean leaned into Draco, a few grateful tears dripping onto his arm. “Thank you, thank you so much. You’ll never know how deeply we love you for what you’ve done for her. Thank God for you.” Tom put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and patted it. “We owe you more than we could ever repay, son.”
Draco, embarrassed by the show of affection, lowered his head on top of Hermione’s and managed to spit out, “No, it’s…really…I’d do anything for her.” He felt a warmth spread through his body at his own words.
“We’ll be right here if you need us,” whispered Jean as she and Tom settled back onto their couch. Draco closed his eyes and paused to thoroughly take in this pure, precious moment. He used his senses to immerse himself in the feeling of holding Hermione: to breathe in her scent, hear her even breathing, feel the softness of her body against his, taste her hair as he kissed her head over and over. This was the rightest he’d ever felt in his life; everything was exactly as it should be. For the first of many times, he hoped. He settled his head back on the arm of the couch and fell asleep with a smile.
****
A forgotten figure emerged from the shadow of the corner. He’d heard everything, watched as the one he hated embraced the one he loved. She didn’t want him; she called for him. He heard the sickening gratefulness in her parents’ voices. They called him son.
He would explode if he stayed any longer. He needed somewhere to rage, to scream, to break things with his bare hands. He stalked out of the room and down the hall, flinging the front door open. Damn it all to Hades, why couldn’t he Apparate yet? He slammed the door shut and took off down Grimmauld Place, not knowing or caring where he was going.
Last edited by steflegan; 08-01-2011 at 08:30 PM.
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