Draco

Neveah

"Draco!" His father's voice cracked through the air, lashing into the boy's back before his hand struck in the same spot, knocking him to the floor. He bit his lip to keep himself from crying out, but a slight shriek was ripped from him as an unforgiving hand fastened to his collar and began dragging him backwards.

"Lucius, please..." Draco heard his mother begging. "He's just a boy, let him go..."

"I'll teach my son to play with Muggle children!" Lucius Malfoy raged. He threw Draco against the bottom of the spiral staircase, driving the breath from his eight year old lungs. He gasped for air, wheezing. HIs eyes were blurry with tears; too late he saw the well aimed kick from a polished black boot. Before he could curl away from the blow, Lucius kicked him in the ribs. Draco howled as his bones cracked. "Shut up boy!" Malfoy bellowed, and kicked him again, this time in the tender spot between his legs. Draco shrieked in pain, curling up into a ball.

"Lucius!" Narcissa Malfoy gasped. A flurry of clicking heels and then she was next to her son, cradling him to her chest. Lucius scoffed and turned away.

"I'll be back soon," he growled. "If it's fun those Muggles want, it's what they're going to get..."

Shrill screaming...a seven year old girl with red hair writhing in pain on the ancient crest of the Malfoy house...Draco begging his father to stop, clinging to his arms...a flash of green light....

"NOOO!" Draco sat bolt upright in bed, hands outstretched in the dark as if to clutch at the fading image. Breathing heavily, he allowed his hands to fall into his lap slowly. He swallowed a few times, trying to rid himself of the bile rising in his throat. Quickly, he surveyed the dormitory to make sure that he hadn't woken any of the other boys; they were all fast asleep, oblivious to his nightmares. He quietly slipped out of bed, pulling on his dressing gown, and made his way downstairs.

Cameroon was curled up on the armchair nearest the fire; when he saw Draco, he chirruped happily and stood, arching his back in a luxurious stretch. With a small grin, Draco picked the tabby cat up and sat down, running his fingers through Cameroon's thick fur.

"Another nightmare?" a voice said from the couch. Draco almost jumped out of his clothes, spilling the cat into an undignified heap of fur on the floor as he spun to see who had spoken. Shaking his head, Cameroon glared up at the boy before grooming himself furiously. Hermione was curled up on the couch, a stack of books untouched beside her. He frowned.

"What are you doing up so late?" he asked. She shrugged.

"I have an astrology class starting in a few weeks, and it's super late at night. Just trying to prepare myself for it." She yawned, and then said slyly, "You haven't answered my question though."

He rolled his eyes and began to turn his back on her. The image of the girl, his friend, suddenly flashed before his eyes, and he stopped. Hermione noted his hesitation and waited patiently. Eventually, Draco sighed. "You have room on that couch?" he said wryly, with a bitter smile. She grinned and scooched over, patting the now empty spot next to her. He sat down and sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"They're getting worse," she commented after a few minutes, when he still hadn't elected to speak first. He frowned at her, and she clarified, a little shamefaced, "I can hear you upstairs. This is the first time I think you've woken up enough to come down here."

"Stalking me, Granger?" he teased, through his face turned a little pink. Her cheeks went red, and she looked into the fire, avoiding the jab.

"I worry about you sometimes. That's all," she muttered lamely. He smirked, and let her squirm uncomfortably for a moment.

"Yeah," he finally sighed. "They're getting worse." He looked down at his hands, fingers intertwining with each other. "It's always the same one," he said absentmindedly. "When my father..." he hesitated. Hermione remained silent, though her tensed muscles conveyed her curiosity. Draco swallowed and then finally murmured, "When my father killed my best friend."

Hermione gasped audibly, and Draco winced.

"What happened?" she demanded. He sighed.

"Her name was Neveah," he said quietly. "She was just a Muggle. Not special in anyway. Not to my father, anyways." He blushed a little, but kept going. "We would meet at the library, and go for adventures in the woods. Sometimes her brother came, sometimes it was a few of her friends, sometimes it was just us." He smiled as a memory of Neveah toothily smiling over a river frog she caught with her bare hands rushed through him. "We had so much fun together. She and my mother were the only lights in my life. And then..." he swallowed. Silence dragged on for a few moments. Hermione just waited patiently. When he finally got his voice back, Draco whispered raggedly, "My father saw us playing in the river bed. He was angry, angry that I had escaped the house and had found some sort of joy in life. He came out and ordered me back into the house. He would have left her alone, but Neveah...Neveah couldn't keep her stupid mouth shut..." tears were flowing down his cheeks now, but he didn't care.

"What has he ever done to you?" Neveah demanded angrily. Lucius paused and turned to look at the muggle girl.

"Oh, my dear, my dear," he murmured, voice dangerously silky. "You really have no idea do you?"

"He threw me against the stairs....and then he went outside....to find her again..." Sobbs wracked his shoulders.

"Don't you dare!" Neveah screamed as Lucius dragged her into the house. "You have no right! When my father-"

"Your father would thank me for disciplining such an unruly daughter!" Lucius snarled. He threw her in the center of the room.

"No!" Draco cried out, trying to escape from the arms of his mother.

"Lucius..." Narcissa whispered; Draco looked up to see horror in his mother's liquid eyes. "What are you doing?"

"You wanted fun?" Lucius demanded. Neveah climbed to her feet and glared defiantly at him. He snickered and growled, "Let's have fun, then, muggle." He raised his wand, and shouted, "Crucio!"

Suddenly, Hermione's arms were wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. He found himself burying his face in her shoulder, allowing himself to finally let go of all the pain, the anger, and the resentment he'd kept bottled up inside.

A half an hour later, he was asleep with his head in Hermione's lap, while she ran her fingers softly through his hair and read The Tales of Beedle the Bard.