Lost Image | dramione

41 | the battle of malfoy manor

"Oh my god!" Ginny screamed, and Draco whirled around away from his heavy conversation with Harry and towards the west entrance. "Hermione!"

And it was true- there she was, standing between his parents. It was like the universe had sent him a perfect packaged deal on all his silent prayers: Everyone was okay. His parents had come, and they had brought her with them.

He wasn't sure if the sound that escaped him was what relief was supposed to sound like. His cry was slightly more powerful, full of all the worries and anxiety that had been building in his gut. All the "what ifs" suddenly fizzled into meaningless thoughts, and he felt lighter than he ever had before. He ran forward, heedless of his father's presence or his mother's tight grip on her wrist, and threw his arms around her. Alive, in one piece, and standing in front of him. Everything would be okay now.

Then something extremely peculiar happened. She began to cry.

He had only seen her cry- actual, real, sobbing tears- on one occasion. The day she told him she loved him. In truth, that fact seemed to put a damper on what should have been a sweet memory, but it was his own fault for walking away from her and her parents and making everything more dramatic than it had to be...

This crying was different. This wasn't complicated emotions and thoughts of unrequited love bubbling inside her over-thinking brain. This was pain.

"What happened..." he started to ask, just as Harry jogged up next to him, interrupting.

"How did you escape?" he asked, and Hermione chose to answer Harry's question instead of Draco's.

"Y... Yugo," she managed past her sobs.

"The elf?" Draco asked, perplexed. How did that happen? The elves were meant to protect the household in an emergency, but if someone had been trying to carry her off on a broom he didn't think a single elf could have overpowered him.

As if on cue, the house elf appeared silently, standing at Hermione's side between her and Narcissa, who had finally let go of the girl's wrist. It bowed to Draco. "I is good elf who serves as tradition."

"Er, thank you Yugo," Draco managed. He didn't particularly like thanking house elves, but in this case he could make an exception for such loyalty.

Yugo bowed to the two older Malfoys, who had both moved back a couple of places. Narcissa was eyeing Draco's arms wrapped around Hermione with a frown, but she didn't say anything. Lucius was unreadable, his grey eyes blank. "My Mistress is dirty-blood, but she is still of the family. No one touches a proud Malfoy woman and survives in only one pieces, no they do not."

Draco looked down at Hermione, trying to meet her eyes, but she was busy wiping hurriedly at them. Did she think tears made her weak? She looked angry with herself... or maybe disappointed.

"Is old rule- he looks at her, so I takeses his eyes." The elf's eyes shifted back to Hermione, looking almost bored, as if the idea of a house elf taking out a person's eyes was perfectly normal, "I wanted to take his hands, too, but Mistress disapproved."

Something dark settled over Draco's vision; she had been wearing her work robes when she left them. Now her dress was deep purple. His grip on Hermione tightened, holding her head tight to his chest. He was just about to ask the question, but Harry beat him to it.

"Who?"

"Theodore Nott," Narcissa answered for both Hermione and the elf, and Draco met his mother's eyes, surprised. "We really do have some very good house elves. Rumor has it this one is from stock that had a bit of Goblin blood in them." She smiled down at the elf, and there was something cold in her smile. "I trust the boy is still alive?"