This Bitter Earth

FOUR

A/N: I took a bit of dialogue from the books to help with Hermione's first part. It is from Deathly Hallows, Chapter 14 "The Thief". Disclaimer- I didn't write that. Obviously. I changed it around a little bit to better fit this story, but I'm giving credit where credit is due.

Thank you to finemakemeyourvillian for working as beta on this chapter again!

Fair warning, it gets a bit graphic towards the end so hope you aren't squeamish.

Soundtrack- "Miss You" by Corpse and "And The Boys" by Angus & Julia Stone

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FOUR

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The reflection looking back at him was disgusting. Grey skin stretching over sharp cheekbones, hollowed by exhaustion and sunken eyes, tinged with red from lack of sleep and too much drink. Ashes laid on his white blond hair and smudges of smoke and dirt smeared over his jaw, mixing with the sharp stubble there. His chapped lips were the same shade as the skin around them and turned down in a frowning scowl as Draco looked himself over.

He hated how he looked now. Just a ruin compared to the monument he had once been. He looked down at his body, unable to meet his own eyes anymore. He had already shed his Death Eater robes, pulling them off the second he had shut the door behind him, leaving his mud splashed trousers and wrinkled, stained white shirt to cover him. He still smelled like smoke and sweat even without it. He pulled the white t-shirt over his head, not even wincing when the tired muscles protested the quick movement.

His body was tired and sore. He hadn't slept in over two days, pushing himself to the physical and magical limit of what he was capable of. He had trained a little since returning home, trying to build back a little of the endurance that his long hours working on the Cabinet had stolen from him. But when he had searched for two days and two nights with not a single fucking clue even his wolves could pick up on, Draco had apparated in front of her house, not caring that it was the middle of the day and razed the place to the ground.

Fiendfyre worked quickly. Glass popped from the windows, forced out by the rush of the heat of the flames. The frame creaked and groaned as the black smoke billowed out from the bricks before they started to collapse onto one another. He imagined her empty fucking bed, her stupid Muggle books, her picture frames she had taken herself out of, all burning, melting, becoming nothing more than grey flakes and acrid smoke.

The flames rose up, taking the shape of spreading wings, a long neck, and sharp, deadly teeth. A dragon. His magical beast destroying her Muggle home.

Magic is Might.

He walked into Umbridge's office, blackened by soot with ashes trailing behind him and told her to write it off as a gas explosion.

That's what Bellatrix always said to claim what happened. And it worked. No one asked any more questions and Draco didn't even have to explain what he had been doing in a Muggle neighborhood, burning down innocent people's houses. His mark was a free pass to basically do whatever the fuck he wanted to and Draco planned to take full advantage of that fact. Might as well get something in return for selling his soul.

Her parents were long gone and her home was with him now anyways. She didn't need that stupid little Muggle house with its wires and empty picture frames and life that didn't fucking include him. So he got rid of it for her. So she wouldn't be tempted. So she would be good once he brought her back. And she would. He'd teach her if he had to.

If the past two days hunting had shown him anything, it was that he had to be more disciplined than he ever had before. As exhaustion dragged him down, his wand movements had become sluggish and lazy. If he was going to find Granger then he needed to be at the top of his game. Donovan had offered to let him train with the rest of the fighters. Draco didn't exactly like the idea of associating with werewolves any more than he had to, but if it made him strong enough to catch Granger, he'd do it.