Damaged Goods by slytherin_after_dark

Chapter 33

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

The portraits were speaking in hushed voices, breaking Hermione's concentration. They no longer spoke to her—apparently, Draco had scolded them.

"Might as well speak up," Hermione said with a frustrated sigh as she closed the book. "I can still hear you."

But the portraits were quiet. The Manor had accepted her but she still felt out of place among the expensive furniture and cascading walls.

It was approaching midnight. Bellatrix had disappeared and nobody seemed to be able to find her. Harry was out with the official search party while Draco, surely, was assigned the more deadly tasks.

Hermione had spent the entire day at Hogwarts, helping them enforce the wards and get protective potions ready.

Draco had insisted she stay at the Manor overnight. She had protested but according to him, he was already compromising because if he had his way, he'd lock her 24/7 in the Manor under all the wards he could conjure. Now that Bellatrix was after her, Malfoy didn't want to leave Hermione's side but he had to go to the Ministry.

The Manor had everything Hermione needed. A fully stacked lab and a massive library about Dark Arts. Truly, it made little sense for her to protest his wishes, so she'd begrudgingly agreed. He had set up the guest bedroom for her. With Bellatrix gone, there was nothing for her to do than research.

When the portraits remained quiet, she picked her book back up. She had several theories on how to defeat Bellatrix and spent every waking minute researching them. With a crack of apparition, Draco appeared, stumbling before catching himself on the wall.

Hermione jumped up.

He straightened, face strained. She knew exactly what the signs of his pain were, even if he wanted to hide them.

When she walked closer to him, touching his robes, she could feel the coldness of dark magic around him like a cloud. Her fingers almost stung from it.

"You're using too much dark magic."

He said nothing as his eyes stared down at her.

"That much dark magic..." She shook her head. "You know it's too much, Draco."

Her pleading eyes found a cold stare. "I know what I'm doing." He removed her hands from his robes and walked over to his potion cabinet, pulling out direweed draught and downed the green vial whole.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes, slowly killing yourself. That's what you're doing."

He cracked his neck, not responding to her. "Any news from Snape?"

"You're injured. I won't tell you anything until you're healed."

"It's nothing," he said.

"Let me be the judge of that. Take off your shirt."

At that his eyebrows lifted. "If you want to see me naked, you only ought to say the word, Granger." He took off his robes, which floated away. Next, he undid the leather clasp of his wand holster before unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging out of it.

She noticed two wounds that almost looked like muggle bullet wounds.

"Sit," she pointed at the leather chair and he smirked as he grabbed a whiskey bottle.

"Look at you being bossy," he said as he sat down, stretching his long legs out as he leaned back. "I wonder what else that pretty mouth of yours could do for me."

She rolled her eyes at him. "This is going to hurt."

"I'm counting on it." He took a swig from the bottle.