Wanderer

A Mother's Love

Chapter Twenty Six- A Mother's Love

​April

It was early when the parchment grew wet with ink, a single line scrawled across the middle, sloppily, almost like it had been done on the move.

Hermione knew it was early because her head felt groggy when she blinked awake, and the morning sun filtered through her curtains, still the blinding, blood-red orange of sunrise. She rolled onto her side, pulling her pillow closer to her, wondering if she couldn't sneak a few more minutes. Hermione screwed her eyes shut, a sigh escaping her lips. Consciousness crept so surely, sneaking into her brain and making it buzz so that, no matter how much her eyes ached and her head hurt, she couldn't salvage another second of sleep.

The parchment was on her bedside table, and when Hermione huffed, surrendering to the morning and sitting up in bed, her eyes snagged on the single line of writing.

I need you.

She sat up straighter, grabbing the parchment, resting it on her knees. Hermione's fingers flitted across the page, and the ink smudged. Swinging her legs out of bed, slipping her feet into slippers and snatching her robe off her chair, Hermione ran from her room. The parchment drifted to the floor.

Her feet clattered along the corridor. Her heart throbbed in her chest.

Hermione burst into the Room. She knew he was there. The door had opened for her immediately. The fire remained unlit. The bookcases stretched to the ceiling. It was their room.

"Draco?" she called. There was silence, for a long time, and then-

"Hermione."

She followed the voice, her feet moving on their own accord because something had broken in her name. Hermione found him down one of the aisles, head bowed, swathed in so much shadow that she almost missed him. As if on cue, the lighting in the room shifted, and she caught a glimpse of red eyes, wet cheeks, pink lips.

Hermione moved towards him quickly, reaching for his shoulder but stopping just short. "Draco, are you alright?"

When he didn't reply, she stepped closer, hand brushing his arm. Draco turned around and threw himself at her, holding her to him, and all Hermione could do was hold him back, squeezing him tightly. Draco fell apart on her shoulder, sobbing into her neck. His fingers grabbed her, digging into her skin, her hips. His heart pounded against her chest. He came undone, unravelling, and it was all she could do to grapple for his pieces to hold him together.

"Draco," she murmured, stroking his hair until his sobs had quietened. He was still clutching her tightly. "Draco, tell me, what's happened?"

"My mother- she-" he whispered into her hair, and wept. "Fuck, Granger. What am I gonna do? What the fuck am I gonna do?"

oOo

There were Aurors on her door at St Mungo's.

McGonagall had given them leave to visit. She'd granted Draco's visitation immediately, something that was easier now his trial had been settled and no band flashed on his ankle. The Headmistress hadn't even asked before adding, "And you, Miss Granger. You're free to go as well."

Draco whirled round. He had considerably calmed down on the walk to the Headmistress' office and Hermione almost didn't recognise him.

"I don't need a babysitter," he sneered, at the same time as Hermione said, "Oh, Professor, I actually have a lot of work-"

"Mr Malfoy," McGonagall said in that stern voice that left no room for debate. "I understand this is an upsetting time, which is why I would prefer it if Miss Granger would accompany you to provide some support. That is my final say on the matter!"