Wanderer

Where Did It All Go Wrong?

AN: I'M BACK!! I know, it feels like I've been gone forever but my exams are over so I'm back to writing again. Fear not, this story will never be abandoned. I have it all planned out. Thank you all for commenting and sending so much love, it genuinely keeps me motivated. I can't tell you how much you all mean to me. I took some liberties here regarding the Dark Mark because, despite my googling, it looks as though the books don't actually specify whether Draco even had the Mark, even though the films suggest he had one before Sixth Year and definitely the night Dumbledore died. Hence, this is my interpretation. I hope this was worth the wait.

Chapter Twenty Seven- Where Did It All Go Wrong?

April

The room was quiet when she entered; the fire was out, a shadow draped across the settees. Hermione dropped her bag on the floor, eyes searching for any sign that he might be here. He'd been avoiding her for some reason. Though she wasn't sure if it was her specifically, or the ongoing mundanity of life that reminded him of how fragile and fleeting his mother was in comparison.

"Draco?"

There was a scuffle from the back of the room, and as Hermione made her way towards it, she caught the light dancing on the ceiling, pooling under the bookshelves. She turned the corner and found him sitting on the floor, wand alight beside him. He'd shoved his robes off, and rolled his sleeves up; the buttons of his shirt were haphazardly done. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin was waxy and pale. He didn't look like he'd slept. Books were piled around him, some open, some placed down, spines stretched to save the page. Hermione cringed but didn't say anything. She tried to get a look at the titles without making it conspicuous, sinking to sit opposite him.

"Have you eaten today?"

Draco licked his lips, eyes darting to her and back to the book in his lap. Hermione sighed.

"You have to eat," she said. "You're no use to anyone if you're starved and exhausted."

"Hermione-" His voice was strained and the sound of her name on his lips was such a rare thing that she stopped. Draco looked at her. His eyes were bloodshot. Hermione opened her mouth to say something but he shook his head.

"It's that place," he murmured. "It's that place that's killing her. If I can- if I can get her out. If I can prove-"

"If you can prove what?" asked Hermione, leaning forward. His entire body seized up. "You're the only one who knows what happened, what she did, or didn't do. Draco, you need to tell me. That's the only way I can help."

He shook his head again, pressing his fists into his eyes. His chest heaved.

Hermione chewed her lip and glanced away. She took one of the books from the unopened pile and placed it on her knees, ignoring his warm gaze when he looked at her. The book was on Wizarding Law and she traced her finger down the contents to try and determine which chapter she should start on, stuttering when she came to War.

"Draco," she started. She forced herself to look at him. "What did your mother do in the war?"

Again, he shook his head, more vigorously this time. "She's in for accessory. She never killed anyone but- but she was there for a lot of it. It was her house. She couldn't escape it. I wasn't allowed at the trial so I don't know what other legal specifics they got her on but the Wizengamot were divided until the end."

"Why?"

He sent her a bitter smile. "She doesn't have the Mark. She never did. It's hard to convict someone of being a Death Eater if they don't have the membership stamp to show for it."