Piece by piece, person by person, the illusions Draco has always believed in are shattered...


Chapter 26: Aftermath

Neither of them heard the sound of footsteps coming toward the room. There were more than one pair; one was heavily stomping ahead. Lucius threw open the door, fuming at his son’s behavior with Bellatrix. His anger was replaced by disbelief as he caught Draco’s tender moment with Hermione. “What…is… this?” Draco straightened up but did not move away from Hermione. “Dad, you need to understand-”

With a roar of fury, Lucius launched himself at his son. Draco had no time to react. Lucius grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and whipped him around, slamming him against the wall. He shouted at Draco, pointing his wand at his son’s face and gripping the boy’s throat with his other hand. “I UNDERSTAND THAT MY SON IS A BLOOD TRAITOR!” He was crushing Draco’s windpipe with the force of his grasp; there was barely an opening in the boy’s airway. “I WILL KILL YOU MYSELF BEFORE I HAVE A BLOOD TRAITOR IN THIS FAMILY!!!” As his father continued to strangle him, Draco struggled wildly for air; his lungs were burning and dark spots were forming in his vision. He clawed desperately at his father’s arm as he began to lose consciousness.

“LET HIM GO!!! NOW!!!” Narcissa stood in the doorway with her wand pointed at her husband’s chest. She was shaking with rage. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bellatrix slowly reaching for her wand. Without even a flicker of movement, Narcissa sent her sister’s wand flying to her and caught it in her hand. She stood now with two wands, one trained on Lucius and the other on Bellatrix. “I told you both what would happen if my son was harmed. Now let him go!!!” she commanded.

Lucius released his grasp on Draco’s throat and Draco slid to the ground, hoarsely gasping for air. “Narcissa,” Lucius began cautiously, “perhaps you should have all the information before you make any rash decisions. Do you know that our son has been helping this Mudblood?” Narcissa cut her eyes to her son and then looked back at Lucius. “It seems we just interrupted a rather touching moment between the two of them,” he went on, acid creeping into his voice. “Our son is becoming a blood traitor!”

Narcissa had not anticipated hearing something like that. Her face went a shade paler and she looked over at Hermione. She decided she would deal with that situation later; right now the only thing that mattered was saving her son. “I don’t give a damn if he is or not at this moment. The only thing I care about is getting him out of this place. He’s finished here, and you will both stay away from him!” Never taking her eyes from them, she called to him. “Draco sweetheart, come to me please.” Draco staggered over and stood beside her. Narcissa’s eyes darted back and forth between her husband and sister as she backed out of the room. She glared at her sister once more and hissed, “You had better pray I don’t sever your wand as well.” As she pushed him out of the room, Draco threw an anguished glance at Hermione. She looked back at him with the grief of seeing her only hope being ripped away from her.

With a gentle hand on his back, Narcissa led Draco back up to the dining room. She allowed him to simply fall into her arms and cry. “Oh, my darling,” she whispered as she stroked his hair. “I knew this would happen. I told them. You shouldn’t have been anywhere near that room. They will both pay for the pain they’ve caused you!” Before he could stop himself, Draco blurted out, “They need to pay for the pain they’ve caused her!”

He felt his mother’s body grow still. Too still. She slowly pulled him away from her so she could look at his face. She stared him directly in the eye, speaking slowly and deliberately as if she were addressing him as a child. “She is a dirty, polluting Mudblood. She deserves to be here. Surely you understand that, darling?”

Draco ran his hands roughly through his hair and dropped his head into them. I don’t understand anything anymore. Keeping his head in his hands, he replied. “I understand what they’re doing to her is wrong. It’s… sick, it’s cruel-it’s evil.” He looked up at his mother. “And, no, she doesn’t deserve to be here at all; she’s just a girl! A girl who’s always been brave, and smart, and kind. She’s never hurt anyone, and yet she’s being tortured in the most sadistic ways! This is wrong- how can you say it’s not wrong?”

Narcissa wrung her hands nervously, searching for the words to rationalize away what he’d just said. “Sweetheart,” she began, “You’re so tired. You’ve seen some terribly ugly things in the past two days and you weren’t ready to see them. I’m not surprised that you’re not thinking clearly right now. Let’s get you up to bed, and we’ll talk in the morning when you’re in a better frame of mind.” She took his arm but he snatched it away.

“I AM thinking clearly, Mother! Maybe for the first time in my life! Are you hearing a word I’m saying? I’ve seen what’s happening to Hermione and it’s wrong! IT’S WRONG!! Do you have any idea what my aunt has been doing to her down there?!” “No Draco, and I don’t care to.” Narcissa didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. “What happens in that room does not concern me,” she said firmly. “That is your aunt’s charge. I have my own responsibilities to manage in this war.”

She turned to leave the room before the argument continued, but Draco followed her and stepped directly in her path. He placed his hands on her upper arms and held her as he spoke earnestly. “But it does concern you! It’s happening in your own house! That makes it your responsibility as well. Please, Mum, you’ve got to stop it, you’ve got to help her- she can’t survive like this much longer!”

Narcissa pulled her arms from her son’s grip. She took his hands in hers and held them to her heart. When she spoke, her voice was low and troubled. “Listen to me very carefully, Draco. The words you are saying come dangerously close to the speech of a blood traitor. You need to let this go; I won’t have anything happen to you. You saw how your father reacted just now. Can you imagine what the Dark Lord would do to you if he’d heard you sympathizing with a Mudblood? You are everything to me, and I will not lose you!” She spoke louder, with authority. “You will stop talking about this Mudblood trash. I don’t want to hear another word about her!”

She tried to walk away but Draco still blocked her path. “Stop calling her that, that’s not what she is! You have to hear it, you have to open your eyes! She’s being tortured and she hasn’t done anything wrong! You have to stop it, you have to care-” “Not another word, Draco!!” Narcissa shouted. “This is over, now!” Draco’s eyes flashed angrily and he grabbed her wrist as she pushed past him. “Then you’re no better than your sister!” he hissed.

She wheeled around and slapped him hard across the face. A bright red mark appeared on his pale cheek as he stared at her in hurt and disbelief. His mother had never hit him, not even once. That was his father’s job. Narcissa gasped as she stared back at him, horrified by what she’d done. She looked down when she saw the tears welling in his eyes; she couldn’t bear to see him cry. She spoke in a voice hardly above a whisper. “Don’t ever say that to me again.” Before she began crying as well, she strode quickly out of the room, leaving Draco standing there as his whole world spun off its axis.