Damaged Goods by slytherin_after_dark

Chapter 32

- NOT MY STORY!! ALL CREDITS TO @slytherin_after_dark ON A03!!

A coldness went through her body. It was more than that. Emptiness. She felt nothing. Not even dread.

The black cloud of Dementors felt suffocating. Bellatrix's white hair was glowing against it. Her eyes were wide. Hermione should be scared. She should move and fight. Do something. But she couldn't.

Everything felt numb. Not even her scar was burning anymore. Quiet. It was all so quiet. Surely there were noises. Screams. Explosions from spells. She didn't hear anything—aside from her heartbeat, drumming loudly in her ears. The world around her seemed to have slowed. She saw Bellatrix raise her wand as Draco sprinted towards her, silver eyes wide with terror.

He screamed something but she couldn't hear it as Dementors kept creeping in closer and closer. Like a storm front. Long fingers of shadows stretched towards her, urging her closer.

Then, the sky exploded with pale blue light. A dragon tore through the cloud of darkness, stretching its wings wide. Draco's Patronus. It tore through several Dementors before it landed right in front of Hermione, digging its claws into the dirt, and flaring its wings.

She felt the power of his Patronus—like fire and ice. It burned with coldness; blazed with darkness. His magic felt so sharp, it was as if it could cut through air. 

The scales on the dragon's chest were shimmering in different blues and greys that reminded her of Draco's eyes.

Draco was throwing spells at Dementors mid-run, still making his way to her. The dragon had pushed some of the Dementors away enough so the numbness in her began to fade. It still felt like she was underwater as if the world around her wasn't real. But she started to feel some sense of normalcy return.

Right then, her arm seemed to explode with pain. She screamed and almost fell to her knees. Dementors came raining down again, trying to attack her from different angles.

The dragon in front of her roared and spat flames of white light. Hermione had to shield her eyes from it. When she blinked again, the dragon and the Dementors had disappeared. Draco was now in front of her, wand pointed at his aunt.

"It's time to come home now, Draco," Bellatrix coaxed. "You no longer have to be the Ministry's lapdog."

For the first time, Hermione looked around. Party guests were fighting Dementors. Patronuses of their own battling the wreathlike creatures. Screams mixed with the zapping sound of spells flying through the air.

"I am right where I need to be," Draco responded in a voice so calm, it was terrifying.

His body blocked hers entirely. Coming out of her trance, the stabbing pain in her arm still relentless, Hermione took hold of her wand.

"Your father would be disappointed in you," Bellatrix said with a sigh. Her lips were fire-red against pale skin.

"Good thing I've long stopped caring what my father thinks of me."

The way Draco stood—feet planted wide, back rigid, shoulders back and his arm pointing the wand so decidedly at her—it was clear he didn't underestimate Bellatrix.

"You said she had something of yours." His voice was even. Cold. "What is it?"

She chuckled. "Is the Ministry having you play bodyguard for a mudblood now?"

He was quiet.

"You're a Malfoy," she said. "Not some errand boy for the Ministry."

Draco didn't waver. The arm with his wand was pointed at Bellatrix with promise: He would kill given the chance.