Chapter Text
The prisoners ran into each other when they apparated on a rural road. Hermione was scared, her plan to unlucky Harry had not worked and was concerned about the state of Ron who was still cringing from the pain of the punch he took trying to keep the kidnappers away from her.
They were standing in front of gates with wrought iron bars in front of what seemed like a long battlements. She felt fear freeze in her veins. What if Voldemort was there? One of the hijackers walked to the gates and waited for the iron to twist, unwinding the curves and curls and forming a terrifying face, which spoke in a metallic voice: "Tell your objective".
- We arrested Potter! Roared Greyback, triumphant. - We captured Harry Potter!
And it took no more words from the werewolf for gates to open.
- We will! Said Greyback to the men, and the prisoners were pushed through the gates and the alley, between tall hedges that stifled their steps. Anguish was growing in Hermione's chest and she put a hard and indifferent expression on her face, she wouldn't surrender without a fight, she needed a plan, something to dissuade whoever was in that mansion that the swollen-faced boy who staggered in front of her it was really Harry Potter.
- We are here to see the One-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! - Greyback spoke whoever opened the mansion's front door. - We captured Harry Potter! - And grabbing Harry, turned him facing the light so that the blond and aristocratic woman could see the boy.
- I know he's swollen, lady, but it's him! Scabior's high-pitched voice came. - If you look more closely, you will see the scar. And this one is the bad blood that is traveling with him. There is no doubt that it is him, and we brought his wand too! Here, lady ...
Hermione saw Narcissa Malfoy examining her friend's swollen face, but the woman only raised her eyebrows.
- Bring them inside.
She and the others were pushed and kicked up the wide stone steps, and entered a hall whose dark walls were covered with paintings and portraits that looked at them with disgust or disinterest.
"Follow me," said Narcissa, crossing the hall. - My son, Draco, is at home spending the Easter holidays. If it's Harry Potter, he'll know.
* * *
Draco was sitting in one of the armchairs in the large living room, although he liked the crystal chandelier on the ceiling, the purple walls made the room darker and less comfortable than he would like to admit. He sometimes didn't know what was worse: being at home with his family and Lord or lonely at school. That was so ... The dismay at knowing that he had less than three months to live surrounded him with strength. For at least a few days he had been thinking about it: would his death be painful or not even feel? Would your heart stop tragically or go to sleep? Damn it, he would give anything to see her one last time ... Until such a well-known aroma of orange, vanilla and old book hit him before he could even see the prisoners being pushed into the room. He rose in fright when he saw her tied up among the prisoners.
Hermione.
He never imagined that he would see her there, in his home. Draco had lost hope of meeting her again when she didn't go back to school and after the persecution of Muggle-borns he hoped she would never be found, but there she was. And it took all of his self-control not to run up to her and free her from the bonds.
- What's that? - Asked his father in his typical slurred voice.
"They say they captured Potter," said his mother. - Draco, dear, come here. I need you to confirm whether it is Potter or not, we cannot afford to be deceived and we wrongly summoned the Lord ...
He did not want! For he knew that if Hermione was there the supposed Harry who didn't look at him directly was really who that disgusting kidnappers claimed to be. And Draco curse the damn day he decided to spend his Easter vacation at home.
- So, kid? - The werewolf was delighted by the smell of scared little girl that Hermione exhaled, that although Draco also felt the girl's fear, it only aroused him more anger against the direction that his world was taking.
Harry's face was huge, bright and red, all features deformed by some spell for sure - either that or he had stuck his face in a hornet's nest. Draco allowed himself a quick look at the young woman behind the brunette and he saw even behind Hermione's indifferent and courageous expression that she had been the one to cast the spell. If he didn't know who was standing there in front of him, he would have wondered who stole it and was wearing Harry's glasses.
- So, Draco? Asked Lucius Malfoy boldly. - It's him? Is it Harry Potter?
- I'm not sure ... - He said shakily. He knew that the one in front of him was his rival, but if the boy's identity was confirmed what would happen to Hermione? I was terrified of the disturbing images that popped into his mind.
- But look at it carefully! Get closer! - His father continued excited about the possibility. - Draco, if we are the ones who deliver Potter to the Dark Lord ...
Greyback, upon hearing those words, began to aggressively challenge the wizard by claiming that he was responsible for the night's capture credits, but Draco just wanted to get out of there. If only he could disappear once and for all! Was it all a way of paying for the evils done to all Muggle borns? Suffer until your death? If only I had known what I would expect for him at Christmas last year, I would never have come home! Was there any way to force the mark off your skin? If it burned it, would the link be lost?
- I told you, I don't know. - He replied again to his father, returning to the safe corner.
"We'd better be sure, Lucius," said her mother to her husband, in her clear, cold voice. - Absolutely sure that it is Potter, before we call the Dark Lord ... They say that this is his - she commented, looking at the plum wand - but it does not seem what Olivaras described ... If we are wrong , if we call the Dark Lord to no avail ...
- And the bad blood here? Growled Greyback.
"Wait," said Narcissa sharply. And despair took Draco's heart. - Yes ... yes, she was at Madame Malkin with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl? Her mother's eyes had a strange glow, as if she were relieved, as if her answer was the solution to all the family's problems.
- I ... - No, he couldn't condemn her. They would kill her, not for accompanying Harry, but for being bad blood. - ... I don't know ... - It was the best you can do, with your chest already in tachycardia.
- This is the Weasley boy! Shouted Lucius, turning the prisoners around to face Ron. - It's them, Potter's friends ... Draco, look at him, aren't you Arthur Weasley's son?
- Yeah ... It could be. "Potter, why the hell haven't you managed to escape yet?"
When his aunt entered the room, everything got drastically worse. On the one hand his father was desperate to run to Voldemort like a puppy wanting to show service, and on the other his aunt wanted her mother to be absolutely sure, while on the other axis Greyback snarled with anger at being ignored by wizards who always considered themselves higher.
Draco couldn't think of anything, nor a plan that could free Hermione came to mind, he just observed the whole environment: his mother looked satisfied, her face livid by the possibility of the war finally ending - a fact that proved when she took his shoulder and he ran his hand over her arm, holding her hand tightly. Harry seemed to be petrified, as was Weasley. Hermione was the only one who seemed to be trying to find a way out, but it was as clear as water in her eyes how desperate she was. Draco saw the moment she gave up the stitches when Lucius finally took the action of pulling on his sleeve revealing the Black Mark, she gave up, accepting that the end had come and it shattered her heart.
Draco watched with equal horror as his father almost touched the Black Mark, but his forefinger stopped before touching it when Bellatrix went to the kidnapper who had the sword and screamed wildly.
- What's that?
- A sword.
- Give it to me.
- It's not yours, lady, I found it and now it's mine.
He heard the crash before the red flash left his aunt's wand when the kidnapper had been stunned. With a cry of rage, one of the fallen kidnapper's companions drew his wand. The kidnappers were no match for her, although it was four against a Bella who was a witch with prodigious skill and no scruples. The men fell where they were, all except Greyback, who was forced to kneel. Bellatriz leaned over the werewolf, holding the unknown sword tightly in her hand, her face maddened by anger.
- Where did you find that sword? He whispered to Greyback. - Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!
- It was in the girl's bag when we searched her. - He snarled.
"Draco, take that trash out," said Bellatriz, indicating the unconscious men. - If you don't have the chest to finish them, leave them in the courtyard for me.
"Don't you dare talk to Draco like that," his mother said angrily, but Bellatriz screamed:
- BE QUIET! The problem is much worse than we thought, Ciça!
Draco was excited, but he couldn't just refuse to leave, not when his aunt was so unstable, scared and demented. With a simple spell he levitated the bodies of the kidnappers and allowed himself to look directly at Hermione as he left the room and headed for the courtyard. She didn't look at him, all the girl's attention was on her Aunt and Draco saw fear in those honey-colored eyes.
* * *
Hermione shivered when she saw the mad witch turn to face them. Being summoned for a private conversation
Bellatrix Lestrange was not at all pleasant.
Hermione tried to be brave when the witch cut the strings that bound the other prisoners, but tears stung her eyes when the witch dragged her by the hair into the middle of the room, she saw Greyback push the others to another door that opened to a dark corridor leaving her alone with the Malfoys and Belatriz.
- Where did you get that sword? - He asked.
- I didn't go and ... - But then the slap burned in his face.
- Liar !!! You filthy mudblood, tell the truth! - Screamed giving another slap on the girl who was kneeling before was thrown on the floor. - That sword was in my vault in Gringotts. How did you get it? Did you get in my safe?
- No! - She replied scared. He didn't know what the witch was talking about, he was never in her safe. I didn't even know how well Harry and Ron found the sword.
- You are lying! CRUCIO!
Hermione cried out when the spell hit her, the excruciating pain burned without really hurting her, it was like a thousand daggers tearing her from the inside out.
- I'll ask you one more time! Where did you get this sword? Where?
- We think ... we think ... PLEASE! cried Hermione when the curse hit her again.
- You were in my safe in Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth! - Bela shouted throwing another cruciatus at the girl who let out another terrible and prolonged cry.
Tears spilled from his eyes, it was a pain that surpasses any other, his blood seemed to be on fire and his bones cracked on his skin; she wanted it to end ... to lose consciousness ... to die.
- What else did you take? What else has with you? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I'll cut you with this knife!
- Nothing! I didn't take anything! - He cried.
Hermione screamed again when she felt the torture start again, she couldn't take it anymore and when the pain stopped she begged.
- Please! I didn't take anything! I do not…
- What else did you and your friends get from my safe? What else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!
Hermione started screaming again and even though she tried to beg to stop her screams they continued to cut her throat as tears streamed from her eyes that rolled in pain. And she wanted to die.
- Tell me what else you got !!!
- I didn't get anything ... Please! I didn't get anything! - He spoke between sobs, almost unconscious by the pain, an echo of the torture.
- How did you get in my safe? Did that disgusting goblin in the basement help you?
- We only met him tonight! - Hermione sobbed. - We have never been in your safe ... this is not the real sword! It's a copy, it's just a copy! - Lied, even in the midst of pain and tears her mind can think fast and she lied.
- It's easy to find out if it's the real one or not. - She heard Lucius' voice, but she couldn't see him. She was lying on the floor and could barely open her eyes at the memory of the pain that still ran through her body. - I'll get the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!
- Well, anyway ... I don't believe it!
The pain returned, but now it was the cold dagger that told the skin beneath his collarbone. Hermione felt her hot blood pour from the cuts and stain her robes and she screamed. She cried out when the witch went for her arm and dug the despicable words into her skin with the tip of her dagger. "BAD BLOOD"
When the witch was violently yanked off her, Hermione tried to stay conscious and understand what was going on around her, but it was so much pain that she just lay motionless on the floor, unable to speak or move.
* * *
Draco took the bodies through the corridors to the mansion's outer courtyard. The night was dark and moonless and the boy considered waking the hijackers with an enervat and letting them escape, as no one deserves his aunt's wrath. He himself had already experienced the power of the witch's torturing spell and knew how she reveled in the pain of others, in her pain.
However, remembering how those despicable men touched his Hermione, the anger burned in Draco.
Do not.
He wouldn't let them go, he wouldn't let them get away! They were supposed to pay for touching what was his, for daring to drag Hermione to her aunt's feet. He should have killed them for putting her in danger and for tying her up and if it weren't for a thousandth of sanity he would have done it. He would have said the unforgivable curse and knew it would work, but he was not a murderer.
Draco's eyes fell to the dark burnt mark on his arm and even though she was there he knew he wasn't a death eater, he didn't serve Voldemort. He knew who he was and knew that he only bowed to the Lord to protect his mother's life. Draco didn't know how long he stood just staring with hatred at the mark on his skin, he lost himself in the memory of the day he sealed his fate as a Death Eater, the day he didn't kill Dumbledore, but was seen walking with those who celebrated his death. death.
The ominous cry her aunt had given when she would destroy all the windows in the great hall by blowing out the candles
delighted were still in his nightmares, but it was the memories of the torture he had suffered on returning home without completing his mission that made him shudder. He had failed to kill Dumbledore, failed and Snape had to say the curse. Draco just didn't die under Voldemort's hands that night, because he had been successful in getting the Death Eaters into the school. Fortunately, his mother had been spared and it was she who would take care of her injuries. “You are not a murderer, Draco. And never stop being proud of it. ” those were the words she whispered to him before putting him to an enchanted sleep.
He would not kill the kidnappers, because he was not a murderer, but he was also not a saint and so he imprisoned men and turned his back on them, returning to the mansion. Those men deserved Bellatrix's madness
Draco was halfway up the lobby when the warm smell of blood hit him. Blood mixed with orange, vanilla, old book and fear, very afraid.
Something was terribly wrong with his Hermione and he needed to help her, but before he could step forward, he was completely out of breath. His body was filled with anger, rage, anguish and despair - which consequently activated all of his veela traits - something that until then he had no idea he could do.
Roaring, Draco felt his gum puncture, making room for prey dripping venom, as well as his nails growing, being turned into claws. Although his gray eyes had turned black, he could only see red. The final card came when he dropped to his knees in search of relief for his back, which was tearing hard, giving space for his bone structure to align and make room for one by the pair of white wings, with about 2 meters wingspan.
Breathing hard, the half-veela was exhausted, but his improved sense of smell still smelled the blood of his prey - or companion, as they prefer - in addition to his keen ears listening hard to the high-pitched screams, mixed with laughter.
It wouldn't look like that. In a flash, he opened his eyes, breathing hard, rising with speed and breaking the door to the hall with such rage.
-BUT WHAT…? - Lucius screamed in fright as the door shattered, seeing an angry magical creature burst into his room.
-Draco ?! - Narcissa was white with dread to see her betrayal exposed for everyone to see. What the hell Olivier was ?!
-MY! - Veela howled before leaving for her aunt, scratching her face with her claws, hissing at her showing all her ferocity.
His Veela instinct was rampant, like a mad dog, desperate to protect his mate.
-HOW DARE YOU?! - Bella didn't know if she was furious for the scratch, for being interrupted or for clearly her sister for giving to a chicken with teeth.
But when they assumed that the boy would continue to attack, they were completely stunned to realize that Draco was actually huddled protectively against Hermione's body on the floor, purring divided between taking care of the injured girl or tearing out her aunt's throat for daring to touch her. companion, but above all he was alert to any movement in his family.
-Ciça, what does that mean !? - Bellatrix snapped, staring at her sister fiercely, being accompanied by Lucius.
However, at that moment Harry and Ron burst out of the dungeon stairs. They tried to get to Hermione, who was supported by Draco and the elect's face had already returned to normal for everyone to recognize him.
- Let's call the Dark Lord! - Lucius shouted in a voice overflowing with triumph that when he saw the boy, he pulled his sleeve up and touched his index finger to the Black Mark.
Bellatrix in turn turned his wand to face the boys ...
- Expelliarmus! Howled Harry, pointing his wand at Bellatrix, and the witch's was thrown into the air.
- Stupefy! Ron yelled.
And Lucius Malfoy fell against the fireplace. Spurts of light flew from Narcissa's wand, Harry threw himself to the floor, rolling over behind a sofa to avoid them.
- STOP OR HE DIES!
Panting, Harry peered over the edge of the sofa. Bellatrix had the redhead trapped by the hair and held the silver knife against the boy's throat.
"Drop your wand," whispered the witch. - Drop it or you'll see blood.
Hermione had the vague notion of being lulled by someone, but when she heard Bellatrix's threat she became rigid in Malfoy's arms and when she opened her eyes minimally she stared in horror at the scene in front of her.
She could only be delusional! He recognized Draco as the one who supported her and did not know how Harry and Ron had managed to escape, but he saw Ron now under Bella's clutches and feared. She knew what that witch was capable of. She still felt the pain of curses on her skin, even though she also felt her body protected in a comfortable embrace.
of caresses on her head accompanied by a light purr that reminded her of a kitten. Was she dying? They say that before she dies flashes of her life go through her head, but did it have to be when she turned into a cat ?! Why couldn't it be that time you caught Malfoy staring at you last year? Couldn't it be the day Draco was punched in the nose? Or when he gaped when he saw her at the Yule Ball? But…. Why was she thinking of himself?
- I said, drop the wand! Squeaked Bellatrix again. And Hermione came out of her daydreams when she saw the witch pressing the same knife she had used to cut it against Ron's throat and in horror saw the drops of blood well up.
- It's ok! Shouted Harry, and dropped his wand at his own feet, raising his hands to his shoulders.
- Great. Lucius, get them! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death is near! - She laughed deliriously.
Harry knew that; his scar was bursting with pain, and he sensed Voldemort flying very far across the skies, over a stormy black sea, and would soon be close enough to apparate into the room, and Harry saw no way out.
"Now," Bellatrix said softly, when the brother-in-law returned holding the wands that were with Potter. - Ciça, I think we should tie these heroes up again, and maybe include your blood traitor son!
But when she said the last word, they heard a peculiar creaking noise from above. Everyone looked up in time to see the crystal chandelier shudder; and with a loud crack and an ominous clink he started to plummet. Bellatrix was directly under the chandelier; dropping Ron, who also ran, she threw herself to one side, screaming. The chandelier shattered on the floor, producing an explosion of crystals and chains. Sparkling splinters flew in all directions.
Draco covered Hermione with his body extending his wings to protect her from the wreckage, Harry took the opportunity: he jumped over the armchair, snatched his wands from Lucius' hands, pointed all three at the wizard and shouted:
- Stupefy!
The blonde was lifted by the triple spell, flew against the ceiling and crashed to the ground.
Bellatrix jumped up, her hair disheveled, brandishing the silver knife. - Dobby! - she shouted, - You! You made the chandelier fall ...
The little elf entered the room, his trembling finger pointing at his old lady.
"It shouldn't hurt Harry Potter," he squeaked.
- Kill him, Ciça! - Bellatrix squeaked when she saw that her sister was still armed, but there was another loud crack, and Narcissa's wand also flew through the air and fell from the opposite side of the room.
- You filthy creature! Cried Bellatrix. - How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you challenge your masters?
- Dobby has no masters! Squeaked the elf. - Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby came to save Harry Potter and his friends!
Harry's scar was blinding him with pain. Vaguely, he knew he had moments, seconds, until Voldemort arrived.
- Ron, get Staple ... and GO! He yelled, tossing one of his wands to his friend who bent down to pull the goblin from under the chandelier. Harry's eyes met Draco's and he saw that the blonde wouldn't let go of Hermione. - Come with us! - He said extending his hand to the boy who had once been his enemy.
The half-veela knew that this was his only opportunity and looking at his companion still unconscious in his arms he left any prejudice and old enmity and held Harry Potter's hand because that was his only chance to save his mate.
When the group whirled to escape, plunging into darkness, the youths only had one last glimpse of the room: a flying silver blur, Bellatrix's knife flung across the room against them and Narcissa's pale, motionless figure smiling at Draco as if said:
“It's going to be okay ... I'm going to be okay. Be happy my son, be free! ”