Chapter 8 : Draco
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“Okay Mr. Malfoy, this is your last chance,” Kingsley said sternly, Percy Weasley scribbling ferociously down on a notebook.
Draco took a deep breath and nodded.
“I am not like my father,” He stated bluntly and then left. The shackles were removed off his wrists at the door and his wand got handed back to him when he reached ground level.
He had sent Hermione a letter while he had been in lockdown.
I am sorry what happened last night. I will explain everything when I get back.
It had been short but he couldn’t tell her. Not yet anyway.
Draco was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t see anyone else in the elevator that he walked into.
“Malf-, I mean, Draco?” The person behind Draco asked. He turned his head a fraction of an inch and caught sight of the bright pink hair.
“Emily Diggory?” He asked. Emily Diggory was Cedric Diggory’s younger sister and had been in Draco’s year level all throughout school, they had never spoken to one another unless in dire needs, but they both knew each other very well.
“Yeah it’s me. Long time, no see. How have you been?” She asked, brushing a piece of her pink hair behind her ear.
“I’ve been better,” He admitted truthfully, rubbing his wrists. Emily shot him a sympathetic look, her blue eyes staring at him.
“Yeah, I heard. How are you coping?” She asked, brushing her slender fingers along his arm as a comfort.
“Okay, I have a friend who is helping me,” Draco stated. The elevator doors opened and he walked out, saying goodbye to Emily over his shoulder.
Just one last stop He thought to himself as he veered right of the exit that led to the high streets of muggle London.
He walked aimlessly until he found the door marked Mr. Harry Potter, head of the auror department
“Perfect,” He mummered to himself and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Harry yelled.
“Draco!” Hermione exclaimed when she opened her door. Her eyes were puffy and her face was all flustered.
“Rough night?” He asked, pulling her into a hug. She embraced him happily.
“Chocolates and flowers,” Draco said when they broke apart, Primrose flowers in one hand and a bag full of Reeses Peanut Butter and Chocolate biscuits in the other.
“Where have you been? You’ve been gone for at least a week,” Hermione exasperated examining the chocolates and flowers.
“So are you going to tell me yet?” Hermione asked, placing the Primroses into a vase full of water.
“Tell you what?” Draco asked
“Why you are being so nice to me,” She stated. Draco took a deep breath and exhaled a soon time later.
“Well, if you really want to know you may want to sit down,” Draco said, flicking his wand for the kettle go switch itself on.
Hermione sat down on the seat opposite to Draco and popped a chocolate in her mouth.
Draco took a deep breath and began:
“After the battle ended the ministry was rounding anyone who was associated with him,” Hermione knew that he was talking about Voldermort, “and eventually they came to my family. My father was charted off to Azkaban before you could say Quidditch but my mum and I were sent to trial because I was still a minor when I became a Death Eater and my mother was in a terrible state; she was having major mental breakdowns almost every day and would get herself drunk on Firewhisky to get rid of all the pain that she had bottled inside of her. The trial that my mother and I were sent to was the scariest thing that I have ever been to. The whole ministry was there, including every person in the wizardagamont. We were stuck in that trial room for two days straight until they finally came to a descion.
My mother was put on probation and could escape her fate in Azkaban if she checked in to St. Mungo’s once every week to see if her mental breakdowns were stopping and I was put on good behavior for two years. I managed to avoid everyone who I knew at school; you know: Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Astoria Greengrass,”
He took a deep breath before continuing,
“It was only two months after the trial when I received a disturbing letter from the ministry. My mother hadn’t turned up to her weekly St. Mungo’s check and they couldn’t get ahold of her-,” Tears were starting to form in Draco’d eyes as he told Hermione his horrific past, “- No one knew where she went so they asked me to find her. As soon as I finished reading the distress letter I apparated to the only place she could be,”
“Where?” Hermione asked in a barely audible voice.
“To the house that she grew up in and sure enough she was there, sprawled out on the floor. Unconscious. She was alive, but only just. I found out later that her body had shut down due to all the stress she had put on herself. The alcohol hadn’t helped either,” Tears were streaming down both Draco and Hermione’s cheeks and neither of them attempted to wipe them away.
“So is your mother okay?” Hermione asked, wanting desperately to reach forward and comfort Draco but she wasn’t sure how he’d react.
“She’s in St. Mungo’s. No one knows if she is ever going to recover fully but she is making progress,” Draco said, taking a sip of his tea. Hermione’s lay untouched on the coffee table.
“Kingsley told me that this time was my last chance,”
“You mean-,” Draco nodded, interrupting Hermione.
“If I stuff up one more time then I am going straight to Azkaban with no chance of a get out of jail free card."
A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to put this chapter up. I've been really busy with school and personal problems.
I'm going to apologise for all the mistakes i've been making in the past few chapters, I've been suffering with minor depression and personal issues have been coming up making it hard for me to concentrate. I'll try not to do it anymore and thank you to everyone for correcting me and for also reading this story.
- Jaz x
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