Lunar Cost - Dramione

(•_•)...19...(•_•)

"But I didn't! Okay? I would never do that to you. Okay?" Draco spoke quickly, begging her to look him in the eye. "Hermione, look at me, please."

As her head was still hanging down, tears pooled at the bottom of her eyes. She didn't know what to think. She knew she had to let him explain but she felt her stomach twist and all she wanted to do was rip his hands off her arms.

Hermione looked at him nonetheless. Her bottom lip quivered at the look on his face.

He looked scared.

He looked terrified.

"Go on," Hermione spoke, barely a whisper. A lump in her throat prevented her from getting the words out; Draco understood.

"Voldemort ordered me to kill them last year. He said he'd kill me if I didn't.

"He pushed me into a floo to the closest wizarding network to your parents. I guess he knew that it would weaken you. Your brain was carrying the Golden Trio after all. So I found their house."

He remembered walking up the little stone steps, careful to be quiet. Of course they wouldn't have heard him from inside the house. He was nervous.

The house was a beautiful kind of mundane. It was terribly average and terribly bland and terribly cookie cutter, but in a beautiful way. Draco remembered thinking If I were a muggle I'd want a house like this. As he trodded to the front door, he couldn't bring himself to knock. Or ring the doorbell. Or do anything but stand there facing the door. Did he really want to do this? Was it really his place to decide that his life is more valuable than theirs?

He stood on the porch for 42 minutes.

He told himself that he had to do it. He had to do it because if he didn't, he'd die and he could help the right side when the time came. But his words weren't convincing. He didn't believe them. He thought of the girl he had to hate but would never admit he admired. He thought about the look on her face when word got out that "Hermione Granger's parents have been butchered by soon-to-be Death Eater Draco Malfoy."

He couldn't do it.

Draco went to turn around and as he did, the front door opened. A middle aged woman looked surprised to see a very young man on her porch.

"Hello, young man. Can I help you?" Her voice was soft and welcoming. Like hers.

Draco froze. He didn't expect to be caught.

"Apples." Apples? What the bloody hell, Draco. "Sorry to bother. My grandmother is making her famous apple pie but she was short one or two apples. I was wondering if you had any extra?"

"Of course, dear! Come on in!"

He followed her, reluctantly, into the house. It was terribly normal; he loved it. She walked him to the kitchen and grabbed two granny smith apples. She smiled and handed them both to Draco.

"Thank you so much!" He walked quickly back to the front door. He could kill her and her husband. He knew he couldn't.

"Oh wait!" Draco closed his eyes as his heart dropped and slowly turned around and walked back towards the kitchen. "It's a bit hot out. I'm not sure how far you walked, but please, take this water bottle."

"I really appreciate this." He didn't know what he was feeling.

"You know, you have amazing manners! If I had been blessed with children, I would be lucky if they were half as polite you!" She smiled but that was when Draco didn't understand.

Had he gone to the wrong house? The name on the mailbox said "Granger."

"What about Hermione?"

"I'm sorry, dear; who?"