Tutoring A Malfoy - Dramione

Chapter Twenty - 'It is time': part two

The hallway was in ruins; spells zoomed aimlessly over students heads and hit the wall behind, making the wall give way and crumble or leaving a huge black mark; some spells even hit the students, paralysing them while the professors tried furiously to keep the death eaters away. Screams slashed through the air, cutting into the ears of the students who were concentrating on remembering every defence and attack spell they had learned. Everyone was wondering the same thing: where was Dumbledore, why was he not helping, how could this happen while he run the school?

At that very moment, a scared and pale Draco was pointing his shaky wand at Albus Dumbledore on top of the biggest tower in Hogwarts. Harry was standing rigid, unable to move, and staring on at the scene with a mixture of confusion and annoyance for not being able to help. Draco’s eyes moved around restlessly, asking who else was with Dumbledore. The wind breezed into the room, caressing the back of Draco’s neck and making him shiver.

Hermione, on the other hand, had a parched throat from shouting louder than she had ever shouted before. She was unaware that Draco was about to make the biggest, most life changing, war starting mistake in his whole life.

‘Someone let me out of here!’ Hermione yelled, banging her fists on the door, her wand laying abandoned next to her since no spell worked on getting that damn door open. Draco was smart enough to lock it from the outside so that she wouldn’t be able to open it and she knew it was useless to even try opening the door with magic, ‘Draco! Please, let me out! Anyone! Let me out!’

Her hands were bright red and aching but that didn’t stop her from hitting the door and then finally kicking it, shouting incoherent words, and letting the tears fall free from her eyes. Her hair was wiry around her shoulders, strands sticking to her face as her face was burning from the effort. She leaned against the door with her forehead pressed against the cool wood, crying her throat out, and muttering, ‘please... someone... help... DRACO! Get me out of here!’

‘Stand back!’ she heard a voice, quite a deep one, call out from the other side of the door which seemed so far away yet so close. Obediently, Hermione picked up her wand and stood back, hearing the boy shout a spell over the commotion in the hallway. The door flew off its hinges, making Hermione’s hair zoom backwards. The boy came into the room, his blue eyes found hers immediately and Hermione didn’t recognise him but she didn’t care as she ran out as though someone was behind her. The boy frowned, ‘hey, are you okay?!’

‘Far from it!’ she shouted back, already down the hall and avoiding the fights that were spilling out around her. She took a second to look back at the boy who was wearing a Hufflepuff’s night shirt and pyjama pants to say, ‘thanks!’

Hermione frantically ran down the corridor, there was a whole lot of fear on her face for Draco, rather than herself, because she knew he was going to do something stupid, irrational, and he’d regret it for the rest of his life. It felt like Hermione’s duty to help him, it had felt like that since their very first tutoring lesson which consisted of them getting into a fight and Hermione had no chance to ‘teach’ him anything.

Their second, proper, tutoring lesson sprang to her mind. They had studied History of Magic, the witch hunts essay, and she remembered arriving late and watching him lean back in his chair so vividly. She remembered the impulse that shot through her to stop him from falling backwards, as though it was her personal duty to make sure he didn’t get hurt. Why she had that impulse was beyond her but she felt the same way now as she breathed heavily as she ran to no particular destination, just hoping to find Draco.

And the boat... yes, the boat! Draco had constructed a paper boat to pass the time whilst he was waiting for Hermione to come to the tutoring lesson. She could imagine it now, the tiny boat swaying through the air as though on tiny waves of non existent water, Draco’s veins visible as he swished his wand, his eyes as he offered her to keep the boat for herself...