Beginning at the End ⏃ Dramione

Chapter 26: Repossession

If there was a mood/tone for Draco before this chapter began, I would use this song for dramatic effect-Theory of a Deadman: Wicked Games (remake) - Otherwise I think it could fit dark Dramione fanfics. *As you can see, the video is linked above*

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Draco's knees dug into the floor while his eyes fixed on the empty space where the echo of Hermione's presence still lingered. He did not have a moment to mourn, however. Realizing his hand was still hovering for hers, he quickly lowered it just as Bellatrix began her fit. She sent an onslaught of hexes at the space where the trio had Disapparated. Her war with the bottom step of the stairs seemed to last forever; Draco could feel the heat of her spells as they sparked against the wood.

He stood cautiously, taking a few steps back to avoid his aunt's wrath, closing his eyes in an attempt to block out her high-pitched screeching that echoed throughout the house. He began to grind his teeth, opening his eyes only to fix his stare at his aunt's black-heeled boots, mind flashing back a day when Hermione had mentioned needing a pair of heels. How anyone could stomach polyjuicing into Bellatrix was beyond him. He would not blame Hermione if she chose a different plan to get into Gringotts, especially now.

As if it would help, he tried to think back on what he could have done better when he had witnessed Hermione's throat being throttled by Bellatrix. He exhaled; though it had been a subconscious choice in the heat of the moment to give himself up, it was actually one of the plans he had initially suggested to Hermione back in the tent. She'd had serious reservations at the time, only agreeing to it as he had scribbled it onto the last line of their parchment, while insisting it would never come to that. Draco mused bitterly, it appeared that most things in his life always came to that.

In an attempt to hold himself together, Draco reflected on heartfelt words Hermione had said to him, until he noted his aunt's screams begin to diffuse. The bottom of the stairwell was hollowed out, the edges burnt to a cinder, and concluded that it had been the right choice to let her go. Hermione was safe now.

Once Bellatrix had finally stopped hexing the step, a dwindling scream turned into a rumbling command, "No one speaks of this!" She glanced back and forth between Draco and Greyback, as if daring one of them to try it.

Draco stared up at his aunt, watching as her deep breathing caused a strand of hair to flutter in front of her face. It was eerily delicate, considering the orange hue of morning light that was illuminating the madness in her eyes.

Swallowing hard, he slowly turned to witness the bulk of Greyback struggling to stand.

Reluctantly, Draco stood, gripping his wand as he turned his attention to the third, unidentified figure, which had remained hidden and quiet. Glancing around, he found a shadow, though there was nothing for it to cast from. The early light curiously streamed onto the floor where it lay. Winding down from her tantrum, Bellatrix let out a huff; Draco peeked over at her, and found she was already watching him intensely. She must have understood what he was thinking, because she waved her hand in the direction of the shadow, and it suddenly vanished.

Draco clenched his jaw as it disappeared. It had been a farce: his aunt had only been with Greyback. Feeling sick, he was immediately regretting his choice, his thoughts recreating the recent events. We outnumbered them. I should have fought... I could be with her.

Gripping his wand as he turned to hide his thoughts away from Bellatrix, he prepared to Disapparate, until he felt her nails tickle across his shoulder. There was a swooping feeling in the pit of his stomach, like when he flew his broom too steep toward the ground. His aunt was so close, he wanted to cringe at the breath of foul air from her lungs. The small hairs in his ear began to tingle as she ominously whispered, "You better have something good to report, nephew."