The Bravest Snake

CHAPTER 35

''It's so cold,'' Draco said to himself, shivering. He had grabbed the first jacket he saw, which ended up to be some old threadbare thing buried in his closet. Forcing himself to stop thinking about it, he dug for the mirror in his pocket. Thanking the streetlights for still being lit this late at night, he tapped the mirror and said ''Hermione.''

Hermione's room instantly appeared. She was in her bed with a bedside lamp turned on, reading and being cast in a warm golden glow. Draco could see directly to her since the mirror was propped up on a table perpendicular to her. The scene was so serene Draco almost felt bad for disturbing it. ''Why aren't you asleep?''

She jumped, the book sent flying. Hermione scrambled over to the table, picking the mirror up and bringing it into the bed with her. ''Draco! What are you doing outside at,'' she checked her little alarm clock on her nightstand, ''one am?''

''I could ask you what you're doing reading at this hour, but frankly, I'm freezing.'' Draco wrapped his coat around himself tighter. ''I need your help.''

Hermione's expression turned from incredulous to serious. ''Anything.''

''I sort of... got into a huge fight with my father. A really huge fight. Our parlor is kind of trashed right now.'' Draco winced at the memory of all the broken things his father had aimed at him, thankful they had all missed. ''I can't stay at that house any longer. I'm begging you Hermione, please let me stay over.''

''Of course.'' Her expression softened. ''I won't let you get hurt. My address is 8 Heathgate in London, in Hampstead Garden Suburb. Do you have any way to get there?''

''I'll take the bus,'' Draco shrugged. He shoved the mirror into his pocket and stuck out his right arm into the street. That's how you get the Knight Bus to come, so I've heard. But true to the rumors, a huge double decker purple bus appeared. The door swung open wide, showing that there was no one else inside the bus but the conductor. Perfect.

''Where do you want to go, son?'' the conductor, a scrawny teenage boy asked. Draco relayed to him Hermione's address. Suddenly the conductor squinted up at him. ''Wait, I think I've seen you before. Aren't you a Malfoy?''

''No,'' Draco replied. This was the worst time in his life to be a Malfoy.

''You sure?''

''Désolé, je ne parle pas anglais.'' Draco walked past him and curled up on a seat, fighting back a sudden wave of fatigue. His father's angry words echoed ceaselessly in his head. How could you turn out to be a Gryffindor? Who ever heard of a Gryffindor Malfoy? No one! You are a disgrace to this family, you always have been. How are we ever supposed to love a son that isn't from Slytherin?

He rested his cheek on the glass of the window. As soon as the worst of the screaming and smashing was over, Draco raced to his room and packed everything of importance into a messenger bag that could surprisingly fit a lot more than he thought. His mother tried to reason with him, but Draco knew he had to get out. He had a sinking feeling that if he stayed in that house with his father that angry, something really bad would happen to him. 

As soon as Draco reached Hermione's house, he saw the lights were on. Sprinting up the doorstep, he rang the doorbell. Hermione opened the door immediately, taking in the sorry sight of a freezing Draco with nothing but the clothes on his back and a small bag slung over his shoulders.

''Get in here,'' she said, pulling him in. He stumbled into Hermione's living room. The walls were a cheery white color, contrasting with the teal and dark wood furniture. One of the walls was a huge bookcase, but baby pictures of Hermione and small trinkets were also placed there. Lamps and sconces spread light through the room. 

Hermione's parents shuffled through the doorway. Her father had her bright brown eyes, but her mother had her tan skin and curly hair. Draco smiled at the similarities. ''Hello, Draco,'' her mother said. ''I'm Elisa, and this is Daniel. We've heard all about you.'' 

''We've set up a bed for you in the office. Please, stay as long as you need to,'' Daniel said. Elisa was just like Hermione, efficient and matter of fact, but Daniel exuded a warm, friendly presence. 

Nails skittered on the mahogany wood floor. A small brown and white dog came in, wagging its tail. Draco knelt on the floor and extended his hand for the dog to sniff. ''You never mentioned you had a dog!'' 

''Yes, well, that's Toby. He's a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel,'' Hermione said proudly. ''Right, let's get you to bed. You've had a long night. We can talk in the morning.'' Draco yawned and nodded. Hermione led him up a flight of stairs into a small office with another bookcase and a desk. The chair was pushed into the hallway to make room for the twin bed. It wasn't much, but Draco liked it that way. 

Hermione left him there, and Draco heard her go downstairs to talk to her parents. Behind the door, he could make out a few phrases. ''- bad home life -'' ''- pure wizarding family -'' ''- the old ways -'' ''- child protective services?'' 

A whimper sounded from the other side of the door. Draco opened it and saw Toby, who walked into the room and jumped onto the bed. Draco, who'd never had animals at his house besides those strange white peacocks his father insisted on keeping, enjoyed his furry company. 

But with a pang, he remembered Lyla. My beloved cat, she must be worried about me. Well, I'm sure Narcissa - my mother will take good care of her. In the morning, I'll write her and ask her to bring her over. ''Would you like a cat friend?'' Draco whispered, ruffling Toby's fur. ''She's nice, I promise.'' 

Tucking himself into the covers, Draco closed his eyes and wished for sleep to come. He was tired, but nothing quieted the yelling in his head. As he drifted into dreams, the voice of his father chased him even then.