Slytherin Through and Through

Lucius struggled weakly, his bony hand scrabbling desperately for his wand which had fallen just out of his reach.

“I could kill you right now,” Draco snarled, his voice distorted through his transformed face.

“You would kill yourself after,” his father sneered weakly, a bead of blood forming at the corner of his mouth and then trickling down his chin. “Your Mate’s already dead.”

He growled and dug his claws deeper into his fathers’ chest - already dead? She was only Stunned … wasn’t she? He paused to listen, and realised he couldn’t hear her heartbeat.

He wrenched his claws free, ignoring the blood that splashed over his shirt and stumbled over to Granger. She was so still. He felt himself begin to change back as he collapsed down next to her, panic over taking the bloodlust he felt towards his father.

Her heart wasn’t beating, but when he put his ear to her mouth he heard the faint whisper of breath. Thanking his lucky stars that he had taken a muggle first-aid course last year, he placed his hands over her chest and started pumping.

Behind him Lucius crawled towards his fallen wand. Just as he was about to reach it, Draco heard an unfamiliar voice cry, “Stupefy!”

He looked up. A Ministry official was standing in the Ballroom, looking staggered as he stared down at the stunned Death Eater in front of him. “Blimey …” he said to himself. “We were only hear to investigate a case of underage magic -”

“Help me!” Draco interrupted, still forcing Hermione’s heart to beat.



Draco shuddered as he relived the past few minutes, his head in his hands as he waited outside Granger’s hospital door.

The man from the Ministry had quickly summoned his colleagues and within moments they were taking Granger to St Mungo’s and his father away into custody. The spell Lucius had used hadn’t been a Stunner; it was a Dark spell that stopped the heart instantly, but still left the victim breathing for a minute or so, drawing out their death so that they panicked more.

The Healers had said that Draco had probably saved her life with his attempt at CPR. He had tried to follow them into the room with her, but they had told him to wait outside. Merlin knows what was happening to her in there.

He lifted his head from his hands and stared at the reflection in the window opposite him. His shirt was ripped where goddamn wings had burst painfully from his back and there were bloodied streaks on his face in the shape of handprints. Looking down at his hands, he saw that they were both gloved in lurid red bloodstains, no doubt his fathers blood from where he had his hands – or rather, claws - embedded in his chest to try and tear out his heart.

He had been waiting for half an hour when Potter and almost all the Weasley family came hurtling down the corridor, all of them red faced.

“We aren’t allowed in,” he said dully as Ron grabbed the door handle.

“Why not?” Potter demanded.

Draco shrugged, in no mood to talk to them.

“What happened here anyway?” Weasley asked, releasing the door handle to glare at him.

“My father attacked us, end of story.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell us?”

He shrugged again, his eyes fixed on the door.

“How about you tell us why you’re covered in blood?” Potter asked with false lightness, his eyes hard behind his round glasses.

“Because I clawed open my fathers’ chest trying to defend Granger,” he answered tonelessly.

They paused.

“Why?” Weasley asked eventually, sounding confused.

“Believe it or not Weasel, I have no desire to share my motives for every single action with you,” Draco said, though his normal drawl wouldn’t quite come.

“Just leave him alone, Ronald,” a plump red haired woman who could only be his mother said soothingly. “The poor boy is obviously distressed.”

Draco, Potter and Weasley all snorted at her words, but nevertheless the two boys backed off, sitting down in seats on the opposite side of the corridor. Since it looked like it was going to be a long wait, the rest of the Weasley’s all wandered off to the café, except the youngest girl who sat down with the two boys.

While they waited he listened to their conversation. Potter was fiddling with one of those silver muggle things – a cell phone had Granger called it? Apparently he wasn’t having much luck.

“I’ve tried her home phone three times, but her parents aren’t picking up,” he said exasperatedly.

“Wonder where they are,” Weasley said. “We’ll have to get hold of them somehow.”

“They’re visiting a great-aunt,” Draco said from across the corridor, still staring at the door handle.

“How did you know that?” Potter asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Granger told me,” he shrugged.

The door to her hospital room finally opened and a young Healer stepped out. He saw them waiting and smiled. “She’s stable and awake now.”

The others all leapt to their feet and hurried through the door. Draco stood up to join them, but Weasley turned and slammed the door in his face. Calming his anger with a few deep breaths, he turned to the Healer.

“Everything go alright?” he asked.

The Healer nodded. “We got her heart back into a regular rhythm. It wasn’t too hard since she was resuscitated within moments of the spell hitting her. We’ll keep her in a few hours for observation, but everything looks good.”

He thanked him and sat back down. He rested his head back in his hands and tuned out the hustle and bustle of the hospital around him, simply thinking. Now that he knew she was okay, he had to think of a way to make things right between them again.

Someone cleared their throat pointedly above him. Looking up, Draco got the shock of his life.

“Mother!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. She wasn’t due back from her holiday in Greece for another two weeks. “What are you doing here?”

“Well of course I came back when I heard,” she said. “I was happily sitting on a beach when a man from the Ministry came wandering over asking what I knew about my husbands breakout, of all things.”

Narcissa looked around the hospital corridor with distaste, pulling off her elegant gloves with a single finger. Her blonde hair, darker than his, was twisted up into a neat knot at the back of her head and diamond earrings were sparking from her ears.

“Darling, you’re a mess,” she said, looking him up and down and frowning. Reaching out, she smoothed his hair down where he had run his fingers though it and then straightened the collar of his ripped shirt.

“Honestly, I’m gone for a few weeks and everything has gone wrong,” she said fussily. “Lucius was supposed to stay in jail and I was expecting to come home to find you happily bonded to your Mate so I could start planning the wedding, but instead -”

“You knew?” Draco said, bewildered into speaking. “That I had the dominant gene, I mean?”

“Don’t interrupt me, darling.”

“Sorry Mother,” he said automatically.

She looked at him almost pityingly. “Yes, I knew. That’s why I left.”

“What?”

“You were getting lonely, that was obvious enough,” she sighed. “Everyday in the first week of the holidays you would sit and talk to me all the time. I had to do something to get you out of the house, after all it wasn’t as if your Mate was simply going to wander into the Manor, and leaving you alone was the only way I could think of to do it.”

Draco simply stared at her, unable to believe she had known. He thought of how depressed he had been when his mother left, how he had been craving conversation and company. He had taken to wandering around the villages and fields aimlessly – which had been how he had found Granger.

Narcissa scowled at his stunned expression. “For goodness sake, Draco you look like a half-wit,” she snapped. “Now, close your mouth, stand up straight and tell me all about your Mate. Do I know her?”

He forced his mouth closed and then opened it again to blurt out, “It’s Hermione Granger.”

“Really?” his mother asked interestedly. She eyed one of the hospital chairs apprehensively before sitting down on its very edge to avoid getting any imaginary dirt on her new cloak. “The girl you would complain about in the holidays because she beat you by one or two marks?”

“Yes,” he said, tensing for the fireworks.

“How adorable,” his mother said thoughtfully.

Draco sank into the seat next to her, wondering if he had heard right. “Excuse me, adorable?”

“Yes, quite. To think that underneath all your insults and torments this was lurking.”

“You do know who she is, Mother?” he asked, not quite sure she understood.

“Of course, highly intelligent and magically powerful. Promising talent, according to an article in Transfiguration Today - they did a feature on the youth of Hogwarts, don’t you know. There was even a picture. She is quite a beauty, though not in the conventional sense. Thank god you cursed her and she got those teeth of hers sorted though,” she added musingly.

“But she’s a Mudblood.”

His mother fixed him with a beady look. “Do you care?”

“Of course not!” Draco exclaimed. He was long past all that prejudice – at least where his Mate was concerned. However he didn’t think his parents were, if Lucius’ reaction was anything to go by.

“Then what makes you think I will?” she asked airily, smoothing her silk robe over her knees.

“Father said -”

“Exactly Draco, You’re father said!” she interrupted. “When have I ever raised my wand or laid a hand on you in punishment? When have I ever encouraged you to join the Dark lord and told you that muggles and muggleborns were inferior?”

“You … haven’t,” he said wonderingly, never having realised that before.

Her eyes were very sad and serious as she gazed at him. “I want so much more for you than your father does, Draco.”

“What do you mean?” he breathed.

“I know you have no wish to join the Death Eaters.” She smiled at him. “I want to see you become a Healer, like you wanted to do since you were eight years old.”

“How did you know?”

“I remember patching you up after you had … displeased Lucius. You started asking me questions about how I was healing you. After that it wasn’t hard to see the signs. Your NEWT options, that muggle healing course you did for extra credit, the potions you would mix in the holidays.”

“I didn’t realise you were paying so much attention. I always thought you were his.”

She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Never, darling.”

“So you don’t love him?”

Her face was grave and somehow remote as she explained, like she was telling someone else’s story. “The union between your father and I was never one of love. Your grandfather, Abraxas, wanted a marriage of alliance to the Black family. I was the only unmarried daughter, so I was chosen. The Malfoy’s would add my inheritance to their coffers and Lucius would get a beautiful and obedient wife.”

“I didn’t realise,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry Draco. If I hadn’t married Lucius I would never have had you, and you are the best thing in my life,” she said matter of factly. “I am, and have always been, first and foremost your mother.”

She turned to him and smiled, a true and genuine motherly smile. “Now, tell me about Hermione.”

Draco sighed, looking down at his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Narcissa asked, slightly worried. “You do love her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” he exclaimed. “But the problem is I have messed everything up and made her hate me.”

“Come now, Draco. It can’t be that bad,” she said reassuringly. “Tell me everything, from the beginning.”

He talked uninterrupted for about half an hour, telling his mother about what they had been like at school and then the tentative truce they had called when they had met in the summer. He told her how he had begun to suspect the truth, that she was his and how he had slowly become addicted to her. He revealed everything; every thought and emotion right up to their argument where she had looked so betrayed and had ran from him and then their fight with Lucius.

“… So basically I have screwed everything up royally and it’s my goddamn fault she is in the hospital,” he finished helplessly.

“But she does love you?” she asked.

“I think so,” he said, remembering how she had looked down in the Leaky Cauldron when she told him she didn’t love him, how convinced he was that she had lied.

“And does she know what will happen to you if she rejects you?”

He shook his head. “She did ask, but I lied.”

His mother raised her eyebrows at him and he explained, “I didn’t want to give her an ultimatum.”

“It sounds like an ultimatum is exactly what she needs,” Narcissa said softly.

“No, I’m not going to manipulate her into being with me.”

“You might not have to …” she said, clearly coming up with some plan. “From what you have told me the girl is clearly a true Gryffindor and you, my son, are a Slytherin through and through.”

“What are you saying?” Draco asked, frowning. “That we wouldn’t work out anyway?”

She smiled at him. “No, I’m saying that there may be a way to turn this to our advantage.”


*   *   *


The door to the hospital room burst open and Harry, Ron and Ginny all came coming tumbling in. Ron slammed the door shut behind him with unnecessary force and bounded over to join the others at the bed.

“Hi,” she said weakly, smiling at them.

“Hermione what were you thinking?” Harry demanded, cutting straight to the chase. “Going off with Malfoy alone?”

“Well it’s not like I expected his father to show up,” she said crossly in her defence, a little annoyed that she hadn’t even got a ‘How are you?’

She hadn’t been able to stop herself from looking over their shoulders when they had come in, hoping that Malfoy would have been with them. The last time she had seen him Lucius had thrown him across the room and he had landed on top of his piano, crushing it beneath him, so she couldn’t help but wonder if he was alright – though she daren’t ask her friends.

Once they had finished chiding her, she asked how they had known she was here, since as far as she knew it was still the same day she had left them in Diagon Alley.

“Dad,” Ron said simply.

“Mr Weasley had to run into the Ministry after you left – something to so with a biting toaster,” Harry said, elaborating. “Anyway, he met some of the Magical Law Enforcement squad setting out on a distress call to Malfoy Manor.”

“Apparently they had detected your magic and someone was checking it out, just routine stuff,” Ron said, taking up the narrative. “But then they found you and Lucius Malfoy both half dead, with Draco standing over you and they called the rest of the squad in.”

“Lucius … half dead?” she asked, shocked.

“Yeah, apparently half his chest was torn open or something,” Ginny said disgustedly.

“What could have caused that?”

“I donno,” Ron said. “Though I bet it was old Draco, probably some Dark magic.”

Hermione shuddered as she remembered Malfoy leaping towards his father while in his Veela form, bloodlust in his eyes and his claws outstretched.

Thankfully, they moved on to lighter subjects as Harry told her about trying to get hold of her parents. Ron invited her to stay at the Burrow for the rest of the holiday, but she wasn’t sure if she would accept – though she told herself it wasn’t the case, she knew that Malfoy was the main reason.

Harry was staying at the Burrow as well, as he did most summers. They all laughed as he told them about his few weeks at the Durselys and gave a blow-by-blow account of an argument that Dudley had with his parents about his diet in which the fridge had ended up broken – much to Dudley’s distress.

Ron’s stomach gurgled loudly as they started talking about food and he pressed his hands to it to stop the sound, smiling sheepishly.

“Hungry, Ron?” she asked lightly, fighting a smile.

“Starving, I might head up to the café on the fifth floor,” he said apologetically. “The rest of the family’s up there and they will want to know you’re awake.”

“I could really go for one of those blueberry scones,” Ginny chimed in.

“To be honest I am pretty thirsty,” Hermione said. “It’s amazing how having your heart stopped can dehydrate you.”

At that moment the door opened again and Malfoy stepped into the room, eying Harry and the Weasley’s.

“Malfoy,” Hermione breathed, her voice coming out as almost a gasp.

She hadn’t seen him since the Manor. His white-blond hair was dishevelled and the back of his shirt was hanging in tatters. He was covered in blood and his face looked gaunter than usual, dark circles obvious under his eyes. Nevertheless, she felt a sharp relief flood through her as she realised he was okay.

“What are you doing in here?” Ron demanded rudely.

“I came to talk to Granger,” he drawled, staring haughtily around the room. “In private,” he added pointedly.

“Its fine, you said you wanted to go to the café anyway,” she said when her friends showed no signs of leaving.

“You sure?” Harry asked, clearly not wanting to leave her alone with him again.

“I’m sure, could you maybe bring me down a tea?”

Ginny nodded and pulled a reluctant Ron to his feet. “Yeah, how is it that you like it again?”

“Milk, no sugar,” Malfoy answered for her.

Everyone turned to face him and he raised a sardonic eyebrow as if to say ‘Something wrong?’

“He’s right,” Hermione said quietly.

“If you wouldn’t mind …” Malfoy said, staring pointedly at the door.

“Okay then, we’ll be right back,” Harry said reluctantly, leading the others past Malfoy. They all glared at him, especially Ron, but he simply stared back coolly.

The door closed behind them and Malfoy’s silver eyes slid to hers. He took a few slow steps closer. “How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

“Okay,” she replied. “How about you?”

“I’m fine.” He sat down on the bed, but seemed to be keeping his distance from her.  

“So, um, that bird thing …” she asked.

He smiled, but there wasn’t much humour there. “Veela Granger, surely you remember the Quidditch World Cup?”

“Yes but … I don’t know, I guess I just never really put the two together. Has it happened before.”

“Transforming?” He was looking at the wall above her head, no longer meeting her eyes. “No, according to the book it only happens when you’re mindless with rage.”

She hesitated a moment, and then asked. “Your father?”

“Back in prison,” he told her, though his voice was aloof. “I doubt the Dark Lord will be happy. He is barely out for one day and he is already recaptured. Still, they know he will probably be out again in no time, so the Ministry is considering the Dementors Kiss.”

“And how do you feel about that?” she said, wondering why he was acting so distant towards her.

He shrugged. “I honestly don’t care.”

“Not at all?”

“I hate the man,” he said his voice betraying the smallest amount of emotion. “When he attacked you I wanted … so much … to kill him. I had him completely at my mercy and then I realised I couldn’t hear your heartbeat. That thought terrified me enough to change back.”

She reached out cautiously and touched his bloodied hand, which was resting on his knee. “You saved my life.”

He picked up her hand and placed it gently, but firmly on the covers of the bed. “I need to talk to you.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, worried now.

“I’m giving up.”

“What?”

Malfoy smiled, though it was an empty sort of smile. “I love you Hermione Granger, but I know you don’t feel the same way. I told you I would fight to make you mine, but I’m not going to do that if it will make you unhappy.” He shrugged, looking like he was bored of the conversation. “So, like I said, I’m giving up, no matter the consequences to myself.”

She gaped at him as a hole ripped open in her chest. Surely he wasn’t actually going to just give in?

“Consequences? But you said nothing would happen to you!” she said shrilly, finding her voice eventually. “Were you lying?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips over her cheek. “Love you Granger, always.”



*    *    *



“Did she take the bait?” Narcissa asked, standing up as Draco left the hospital room.

“I think so.” He winced and rubbed his chest – strange as it sounded, it was like his heart was aching. “Merlin that was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I only hope this works.”

“It will,” his mother said confidently.

“You will need to play your part convincingly,” he reminded her.

She gave him a sly look. “Draco, for the past seventeen years I have apparently convinced you I am in love with Lucius. I’m sure I can manage.” Her expression brightened and she smiled. “Besides, I must say I am looking forward to meeting her.”