Dramione: WANTED

CHAPTER 6: RITA SKEETER NEEDS TO MIND HER OWN BUSINESS

CHAPTER 6: RITA SKEETER NEEDS TO MIND HER OWN BUSINESS

"I'm a pure-blood witch."

How was that possible? Draco lay in his bed and thought back to his younger years at Hogwarts, every instance that he'd called Hermione Granger a mud blood. He could see the anger in her eyes at his name calling, the hurt that it caused her to be categorised like that.

If she was pure blooded, that comment shouldn't have hurt her at all, in fact, she should have laughed it off and walked away. His father had been thorough in his findings out about the students that Draco was with, and Hermione Granger had always been a "stay away, she's a mud blood."

"I'm a pure-blood witch."

It wasn't possible. If it was true, then how did no one else know about it? How was this not on the cover of magazines and newspapers?

The hurt that being called a mud-blood caused her hadn't been fake, it had been the same look every time he'd called her a mud blood, and not once had it changed, until this night, when she'd answered truthfully and the door had opened for her.

That charm wasn't weak enough to accept lies or near truths. It would only accept facts, and yet...

"I'm a pure-blood witch."

He turned in his bed and face the window in his room, where he could see that snow was slowly beginning to fall through the small part in the curtains.

Perhaps it was something she found out in the last two years, and that's why no one else knew? If that was the case, then did that mean her muggle parents were actually of magical descendant too, or was she adopted?

How was it possible for there to be so much about her that he didn't know? After getting along so well in their repeat year, why hadn't they kept in contact?

She was fun and she was kind, why had he never taken the initiative to contact her? To ask her about her life? if it hadn't been for that night two days ago when he'd found her by accident, where would she have gone to instead of coming here?

Draco pulled his quilt over his head and let out a deep breath, not liking how many questions he had about her right now. She was a mystery wrapped in a mystery, locked in a room with seven locks and keys, there was no way he was going to let her go in the morning.

Especially with Adrian after her, it wouldn't be safe until he gave up or was taken off the case.

With that in his mind, Draco let out another sigh and went to sleep.

.*.

The sound of his mother's favourite china set being smashed downstairs woke him up the morning. Grabbing his wand, Draco was downstairs and in the dining room in a manner of minutes, his heart beating fast and his breathing shallow from the impossible thought that Adrian Pucey was in his home and about to kill Hermione.

Or Hermione breaking out of the house to visit the library or something; it seemed like the type of thing she would do.

As he arrived, he mentally smacked himself across the head for not putting on any clothes. Though it wasn't the first priority, if he was about to die, he'd rather do it whilst clothed.

Something else smashed against a wall in the dining room and Draco put the thought of clothes out of his mind, focusing on running into the room and stopping short at the sight that met his eyes.

Broken debris of china plates and cups, utensils and other dining room things scattered on the floor like there had been a war in the room, and Granger stood in the middle of the room clutching the early morning newspaper, reading it furiously as plates and cutlery hovered around her like bees.