𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒

XXVIII

Act XXVIII.

Deus ex machina.

The god from a device.

“Harry!” a panicked cry thankfully broke the charged silence in the room and Draco almost released the tremendous sigh of relief that was filling his chest. His cheeks still unusually warm, he seized Granger’s interruption with a vengeance.

“What is it, Granger?” he demanded as he turned to face her.

“It’s-It’s Professor Dumbledore,” she answered shakily, her face pale and wan. “He’s been badly hurt.”

“What?” Harry gasped, finally snapping out of his own turbulent thoughts. “No!” He shook his head as he gritted his teeth. “I knew I shouldn’t have left him! I should have stayed behind!”

“And done what, Potter?” Draco sneered. “Let them maul you as well?”

“I could have helped!” Harry shot back, angered by the insinuation that he was useless.

“Or you could have died!” Draco snapped, his anger returning. “And you already came too close to the latter for my tastes today, so why don’t you just shut up and quit with the foolish heroics!” he growled, his tone offering no room for argument.

Harry clamped his jaw firmly shut at that, delighted even now by the over protectiveness that was coming from Draco in waves. Harry had never known anyone to be so ridiculously adamant about his safety before. Sure, he had Hermione and Ron, but their protests were now born from habit rather than actual concern since most of the time they ended up joining him in his adventures.

“Now, Granger, tell me. Was he bitten?” Draco asked, ignoring the charged pause that dominated the room since his outburst.

“Thank heavens, no.” Hermione smiled shakily. “But he’s in pretty bad shape nonetheless. He’s in his study now. Madame Pomfrey is tending to him. She says he’s going to be fine but it will take some time. Apparently, the rest of the werewolves descended upon him just as he was trying to leave.”

Harry felt guilt swell up inside him again, but one reproachful glare from Draco dissuaded him from mentioning it. Instead, he said, “When can we see him?”

“I don’t know,” Granger said tiredly. “We can ask Pomfrey when she gets out of the room. Come on.”

“Draco-“

The blonde quickly picked up his pace and hurried out the door. “You heard the girl, Harry,” he called out over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Harry merely sighed and followed.

----------------------------

“I know of your plans.” A quiet voice startled Nott Senior out of his musings and he scowled at the figure silhouetted against the doorframe.

“I assure you, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” he replied disdainfully.

The woman laughed as she pushed herself away from the door and sauntered over to the visibly agitated man. “Oh, Nott, do shut up. We have no time for these games and you are neither clever nor ingenious enough to make them fun anyway. I know you mean to save your son. I know you’re planning to contact the Order, though I doubt they’d listen to you, and I know you will betray us soon. So much for Death Eater loyalty.”

Face reddening in anger, he spat, “What would you know about that? You’ve killed every husband you’ve had! And if you’re so sure about my betrayal, why aren’t you telling your lover? Surely, he would benefit from your lies more than I would. After all, he should be used to them by now.” He sneered. “You’re wasting my time.”