The Shattered Dragon

Chapter 22: The Dragon

He was standing in the parlor of the Manor when he felt the tingling warmth in his chest. It spread like a throbbing electricity, pulsing in warning, but took a moment for him to recognize. It had been nearly a year since any of the girls had made use of the call and there was no way for him to know which of them were summoning him back to the mansion, nor did it matter. He'd sworn to protect all of them no matter what. Yet as soon as he felt the burning beneath his skin he'd known. He could sense that she was in trouble.

"I have to go," he said, squeezing his mother's hand. "I'll be back. But I have to go."

"Draco," Narcissa looked panicked, clinging to her son's robes as he put down his drink and moved to the front door. "Draco what is it?"

He put a hand over his chest as he stood on the threshold, holding his mother's hand firmly with the other, offering what reassurance he could.

"Someone is...something is wrong at the Dragon. I have to go." He leaned in and kissed her cheek and disapparited from the front steps.

The call took him to the second floor of the mansion, down the darkened hallway of extra, unused bedrooms. As soon as he got his footing he heard a struggle behind the door he was facing.

"Hermione?" He called her name. The door was locked, sealed shut with a hasty, half assed ward of some kind.

"Dra— "

He only heard part of the word before it was smothered somehow, but it was her. There was no time to fight through the wards, Draco simply pointed his wand and blew a hole in the wall beside the door.

As soon as Trevor discovered that she'd somehow signaled Draco, he'd become enraged. Yet even as he crouched over her, his eyes burning with anger, she stayed silent, her heart calm, a small smile on her face.

"I'll kill you, you mudblood cunt," he hissed, hitting her again. "He'll never get to you in time."

After another crack with the back of his hand she instantly felt the side of her face swelling, her jaw stiff and hot. Blood filled her mouth, which she gathered on her tongue and spit back at him.

His face speckled with her filthy blood, he roared and lunged forward, closing his hands around her throat, right where Draco's hands had been, where she'd only just healed. And now she was going to die. She was going to die without telling Draco that she forgave him, still wanted him. She was going to die without telling him that she...

"Hermione?"

She burst into tears at the sound of his voice, her name on his lips, relief washing through her fear.

"Dra—" her scream was weak and Trevor easily covered her mouth, one hand still tight around her throat, cutting off her breath.

With one last burst of adrenaline she kicked and bucked beneath him, catching him once in the gut. He groaned in pain and she thrashed in his grip but her strength was fading, darkness feathering along the edges of her consciousness. She couldn't fight anymore. It was too hard. She needed Draco to fight for her. Digging her nails into Trevor's forearms she prayed for mercy and heard a deafening explosion before she finally passed out.

Trevor was on top of her, naked, and he could see Hermione's legs lying limp beneath him. The heat in his blood was no longer panic, but rage, and he gripped his wand with white knuckles.

"Hermione!" He called out to her again but heard nothing. She didn't move.

Trevor sat back on his heels and looked over his shoulder, laughing, his face dotted with her blood.