Secrets and Masks

56. Damsel in distress

1st April

Six hours. Six fucking hours - that was how long Draco had been gone.

Three hundred and sixty minutes without a word from him.

Twenty-one thousand and six hundred - six hundred and one, two, three - seconds since he'd stormed through the farmhouse and disappeared in a flurry of black smoke.

He hadn't said where he was going, but Hermione knew, didn't need to be told. She'd known it the second he'd Apparated away.

He was out looking for Theo.

She'd only been at the farmhouse herself for half an hour when Malfoy, Narcissa and Blaise had arrived. Hermione had been waiting for them outside then too, and the look on Malfoy's face when he'd landed, Hermione doubted she'd ever forget it.

He'd looked so ... relieved, when he'd seen her waiting for him. The relief had been clear as day on his face, it was probably the first time Hermione had looked at him and thought he was genuinely happy.

He still thought that everything was going to be alright. Despite the hiccups in their plan, he still thought that today was a victory for them. He was still in the same bubble Hermione and Astoria had been in when they'd Apparated to the farmhouse, a false reality where everything was fine and everyone was safe. A reality where just once - just fucking once - they'd won and it hadn't cost the life of one of their friends to do it.

Hermione hated that she had to be the one to bring him back down to Earth, especially when all she really wanted to do was bury herself in the bubble with him.

The heart-breaking way Malfoy's expression had fallen when Hermione had started to relay what'd happened - fuck, that was probably going to be engraved in her memory forever too.

He'd been silent while she'd told him what had almost happened to Astoria and how she defended herself. Stayed deathly quiet when she'd told him how Romy and Theo had fought to keep the Death Eaters at bay when they'd run across the grounds, and how ... how brave Romy had fought, how all the little elf had wanted to do was protect Astoria.

Malfoy seemed to be calm at first, collecting all the information, silently turning it all over in his head. He was still as a marble statue, but there was a fire gathering in his eyes, each word Hermione said like a separate match being lit, each new story another coal thrown onto the fire and adding to his anger.

And there was only so much he would be able to take before he exploded.

When she'd told him what'd happened to Romy, he'd flinched. And when she'd told him that Theo ... still wasn't there, that he'd never Apparated to the safe house and she had no fucking idea where she was, he'd closed his eyes.

He'd taken a deep breath through his nose, and when he'd opened his eyes, the blue was gone, the fire was gone, and only cold grey remained.

She'd half expected him to disappear right then and there - but he didn't, not straight away at least. He stayed with Hermione - completely mute - and helped her levitate Blaise off Narcissa's back and get him inside the safehouse. He stayed until Blaise was in his new bed, and the moment Quinzel had started to work on him, he'd taken off again. Charged through the house without saying a word and disappeared in a loud crack of Apparation, and Hermione was left with nothing to do but pray that he'd make it back.

To begin with, she'd stayed with Astoria in what was supposed to be Theo's room and watched her sleep peacefully.

Hermione hadn't wanted to give her so many sedatives, but seeing Romy like that ... not knowing what'd happened to Theo ... well, Astoria had become so hysterical Quinzel didn't really have a choice.