Chapter 1 : Beg
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They happened by accident. They happened in a moment of treachery and fright that changed their lives forever.
“Your thoughts are not your own.”
Draco looked up, eyebrows pulling together as his mother opened one of his drawers, yanking clothes out and tossing them onto the floor.
“You have to leave. Even I can hear them. Go far; somewhere he won’t look. Go to her.”
“Mother,” he began, standing, “What are you talking about? What’s wrong?”
“Draco, you must leave,” she said, shaking her head and closing the top drawer, “Tonight.”
"Go to her, the one in your dreams. He won’t look there. If she turns you away, go to Andromeda. She’ll understand.”
“Mother,” he shouted, going to her and turning forcefully away from the dresser, “What is going on?”
“Your father knows. Of the girl, Draco, he knows.”
“The Mudblood,” she hissed, teeth clenched together, “He knows. And he told our Lord. Apparate. Quickly. We have to pack.”
He questioned her no longer, but instead found a small backpack, charmed it, and began throwing all of his necessities inside.
“Everything. As if you were going to school. Miniaturize them. We have to hurry, Draco.”
“Will I see you again?”
“When this is all over, but not before then. He will hunt you until the day he dies. Pack as though you were leaving for school and not coming back.”
“You think we’ll lose?”
“Why do you think I’ve kept in such good terms with Andromeda and the likes? Your father doesn’t know, and he won’t ever. I’ll write, but from a different address and name. When you return letters, never say names. Remain secret, always. Keep safe, my love.”
“Mother,” he whispered, frowning, “Must I?”
“It is your death otherwise. Go, Draco. I love you.”
She pulled him close, kissed his temple, and backed away.
“Go to her house. Beg, if you must. Give her this,” she paused to hand him a letter, “I’ve had it written for a month. I’ve known. Write me as soon as you’ve settled. Address it to Andromeda’s house. I’ll be visiting her often. Quickly. Your father’s coming.”
“I love you,” he whispered, lifting a hand as he gripped his wand, “Don’t let him hurt you.”
And he disappeared.
Of all the sights, this was not one she ever expected to see.
“Please,” he begged, arms wrapped around his head, “Don’t.”
She kept her wand steadily pointed at him, her foot bent over his wand on the floor.
“Why the bloody hell are you here?” she demanded, eyes narrowed in a glare.
“I know, I know, trust me, this looks really bad,” he started, his fingers extending upward, “But I promise I come here on neutral terms.”
“Clearly,” she spat, “Why else would you surrender your wand? What do you want, Malfoy?” she continued ruthlessly, venom dripping in her words.
“Just,” he began, holding up a hand, “I have nothing on me, I promise.” He reached into his jacket, pulling out the letter his mother had given him, “Here.”
Hermione snatched it from him, flicked her wand at it, and then back at him. It opened before her, and her eyes scanned the beautiful handwriting.
Keep him safe. His life is in your hands. Keep my baby safe, please. I’m sorry.
“Who wrote this?” she snapped, turning her eyes back to him.
“My mother. Narcissa.”
“Get up,” she said after a moment’s deliberation, “You can’t have your wand.”
“I don’t expect you to let me,” he mumbled, slowly unfolding his arms and straightening.
He was much taller than she remembered, and his normally pale face looked desolate and sickening.
“Talk,” she said, bending and taking his wand in her hands. She locked it away in her trunk, setting a charm on the trunk.
He took in a long breath before beginning, “You,” he paused, licking his lips, “Don’t hex me, please. I find myself interested in you. And my father found out. He told… Voldemort,” he said with a shudder, “I was going to die.”
“So you came here?”
“My mother knew. She said that you would understand. I agreed with her. Because you’re beautiful.”
The confession rocked her, but she didn’t let it show, “Lust,” she laughed instead.
“Inside and out, you are one of the most beautiful people I know.”
She turned away after a few moments of silence, slipped into her bed, and set her back to him.
“You can sleep on the floor. We’ll talk in the morning.”
He accepted this, setting down his bag and opening it.
It took her two hours of explaining and asking before her parents agreed. It was the end of June, and July was hot on its heels. By the time August crept along, they didn’t hate each other. He kept up his cold demeanor, but he let her see his friendliness and she, likewise, kept her wall, but let him find certain forgiving steps in their budding friendship. As mid-August hit them in a wave of heat, their Head letters arrived, and Hermione wrote the boys to celebrate. She refused to let Draco read the letters, knowing what hateful words would plague them. To Ginny, however, she confessed everything.
“My parents are taking us into London today so we can go to Diagon Alley,” she said on the seventeenth, leaning against the bathroom doorway as he brushed his teeth slowly.
“We’re going together?”
“It’s not the end of the world,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully.
He smiled, and his icy blue eyes warmed slightly.
“I’ll be done in a few minutes. I just need to finish getting ready,” he promised, washing the spit down the drain, “Okay?”
“Of course. I’ll see you downstairs.”
She turned and left, leaving him to sigh. They’d never be anything more than this, and even this was something he’d never dared dream of. But his heart still tugged toward her, a strange feeling that he’d developed their fourth year when he watched her dote hopelessly on Harry. He knew she had no feelings for him, though she was drawn in a very maternal way, and that had always bothered him until he began to understand her this summer. Now, he wanted nothing more than to hold her and love her, a chance she’d never give him.
Walking through the familiar cobblestone alleys with Hermione beside him was an odd and wondrous experience. He loved her curiosity and excitement, and he relished in how she would grab his wrist and point in want at a window.
“It’s beautiful,” she crooned over a new book that had come out just a week ago, “I’ve been waiting for it forever.”
“So get it,” he murmured, arching an eyebrow.
“I can’t. It would be too frivolous. But oh,” she sighed longingly, touching its spine.
Before long, they left, and he was flooded with facts and happy judgments of the book as they continued from store to store, gathering all the necessities. She hated when he splurged, and so he only bought one of the many things that caught his eye.
“Can we get lunch?’ she asked, which surprised him.
They’d gone out a few times, but they were in familiar territory now, a place where anyone could know them. It was easy in the alleys and shops as they could simply slip away from one another, but, to lunch, they would have to avoid such methods.
“I’m starved, and I know of a good place.”
She led him away, her fingers curled around the end of his sleeve, and they traveled through a maze of turns. When they finally reached their destination, Draco was far hungrier than when they’d started off. It was a quaint place, and out of the way, which he approved of instantly.
“The food is magnificent,” she commented, smiling as a waitress approached them.
They put in an order for drinks as she placed menus before them. After deciding, they drifted off into light conversation, topics that were broken within minutes.
“Don’t get angry,” Hermione suddenly whispered, and Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as someone walked closely behind him.
He didn’t watch as a chair was pulled up to the table and a pretty redhead sat delicately.
“I know,” were the first words she spoke, and he sighed heavily, full of relief, “And it’s okay. She told me in June when you first got there.”
“Thank you,” he breathed, turning to face Ginny Weasley, “Thank you so much.”
“Not at all. I’m not certain I can be very… forgiving of you,” she chose her words carefully, “But I won’t hate you like my brother does.”
“I ask nothing more,” he confirmed, nodding once as their waitress stopped before them.
The girls ordered flawlessly, and he was quick to keep up with them. Their conversation floated on easily, and Draco was quick to berate himself for ever bullying the Weasley’s. As they finished, Hermione and Ginny walked ahead of him, and they paused outside the door, chatting quietly to one another.
“Do they suspect anything?” Hermione asked in a whisper, touching Ginny’s arm.
“They only suspect because you’ve been gone so long. They appreciate the letters, but they find it strange that you didn’t come to the Burrow this summer.”
“I told them my parents wanted me to spend as much time at home before I left for the wizarding world for good. They said that was understandable. Well, at least, Ron did. Harry just laughed and said he couldn’t compare.”
“As usual. They do understand. They just miss you. I have to leave, though. I told them I’d be back before one, and I’m already fifteen minutes late. You know how mum is.”
“Of course. Take care. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”
The two girls hugged, and Ginny waved to Draco before hurrying off.
“Everything alright?” he wondered aloud, stepping beside her.
“Yea, of course. The boys are just used to us all being together in August, so it’s been weird for them, but it’s fine.”
“You could go there, you know. I don’t have to stay at your house.”
“Where else are you to go, Draco?” she sighed, starting off.
He followed her, keeping his eyes trained to the ground.
“There are places. I don’t want to ruin your summer.”
“It’s fine, Draco.”
He didn’t persist, but merely sighed and made the decision himself. They finished their shopping, met with Hermione’s parents at three, and headed home. As the night came to a close, and the two new friends parted, Draco begrudgingly left to his room, staring around at his now empty room. He shouldered his small backpack, charmed to fit all his things, and he picked up the small brown parcel that he’d wrapped and attached a letter to. He quietly closed his door, left the parcel outside Hermione’s room, and he was no more.
The rest of August happened in a blur. Draco found a room with Andromeda, where he swore his allegiance as neutral. The mark on his arm meant nothing to him, except for the burn when Voldemort called for his Death Eaters. He refused to fight against him, but he made it known to the Tonks and Lupin family that he would not fight for him. He made sure to write Hermione regularly, though she only responded twice, each in anger. He understood why, but he knew her small accounts of the things she did with Harry and Ron made her happy.
The first shock of their friendship truly hit him when he arrived at Platform 9 ¾, however. He waited patiently by himself, off to the side and away from the bustling crowd. It was only when a wisp of red hair and black-painted nails touched him that he came alive. He instinctively reached for his wand, but the girl’s was already at his throat.
“You left her.”
“Ginny,” he confirmed, squirming in her grip and turning to face her, “What are you doing?”
“She showed up at the Burrow in tears, and wouldn’t tell anyone why. I only just figured it out a few days ago when I walked in on her throwing things around her room. Your letter was on the floor. What is going on? What don’t I know?”
He took in a long breath, uncertain of how much to tell her.
“Draco,” she hissed through clenched teeth, nails digging into his skin through his cloak, “Tell me.”
“I fancy her,” he let out in a rush, and he prepared himself for the explosion.
“Oh,” she mouthed, letting him go, “Does she know?”
“Technically,” he began slowly, “But I only told her when I showed up in her room. Never after that. Why?”
“Because I’m pretty sure she feels the same. Did anything happen over the summer?”
“Other than us becoming friends, no,” he admitted, still stuck on her first sentence, “Does she really?”
“She cried over you, Draco. Of course she does. She refuses to go near you, though. She’s been staring at you for the past five minutes, fidgeting. I doubt she’ll say anything less than formal to you. Where did you go?”
“Nymphadora Tonks’ mother, Andromeda, is good friends with my mother.”
“Small world,” Ginny murmured, “Do you want me to tell her anything? Just in case?”
“No. I’ll talk to her myself. Thank you.”
Ginny nodded, straightening.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I like you. And I like how you are with her. I think you’d be good for her. I hope things work out.”
“As do I.”
Ginny smiled slightly, but it slipped away when she looked over his shoulder.
“I have to go. Mum’s looking for me. Try to be happy, Draco. You look good with a smile.”
He just nodded and watched her depart.
Let me know what you think. I haven’t written Dramione in a while, so this is a treat for me. Hope you enjoyed!
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