Between the Malfoy Brothers - Dramione

Chapter 12

In the Gryffindor common room, just before dawn, Ronald Malfoy slept on the sofa, his head on Hermione Granger's shoulder. Her head was tipped against his in return, her hands slack around the knitting she'd worked at until she couldn't stay awake, couldn't wait any longer for news of what had become of Arthur Weasley.

"Where is he?" The portrait covering the entrance from the corridor banged against the wall outside as Graham Montague came crashing into the tower, shouting. "Harry Potter, where is he?"

Ronald and Hermione startled awake, Ronald swearing and rubbing his eyes, Hermione clutching her knitting to her chest, as if they'd been caught at something.

"Bloody hell, Montague, you're not supposed to be in here," Ronald said, pulling his dressing gown closed and pointedly not rising to his feet. "How did you -- "

"I'm asking the questions here, Malfoy," Montague snapped. "I got special clearance to enter from High Inquisitor Umbridge."

As Montague made a second demand to see Harry, Ronald was making a show of ignoring him, craning his neck to see who he'd brought along. "There you are, Draco. Get him out of here," Ronald said when he spotted his brother watching from over Montague's shoulder. "Make this thick git understand that Harry's been gone for hours."

Draco stood with his jaw and fists clenched, glaring at the braided rug at Hermione's feet, saying nothing. She was standing up, her head down, about to walk to the staircase to the girls' dormitories.

"Where do you think you're going, Mudblood?" Montague spat.

Ronald was swearing again. "Leave her be, and get the hell out of here."

Someone uttered a bitter laugh behind Draco. "Get out? You don't have to tell me twice." This third person in the party of invading Slytherin prefects was now retreating through the portrait hole.

"Pansy?" Ronald hopped up from the sofa, calling back at the sound of her voice. His look of anger transmuted into fear, mouth falling open. glancing at Hermione, at the flat spot on the side of her head where she'd been leaning against him in her sleep. What did Pansy think she'd seen?

"Get back here, Parkinson, we're going to need someone to check the girls' dormitory," Montague barked after her.

She swore in reply as the portrait slammed shut behind her.

"Parkinson!"

"I'll get her," Ronald said, sidestepping Montague.

"Not so fast, Malfoy," Montague said, his hand on Ronald's sleeve.

Ronald was squaring up but Draco took Montague by his other arm, whispering. Montague didn't look happy about what Draco suggested, but he did say, "Fine, I'll bring her back myself." He left, the portrait flapping unclasped, leaving Draco alone with Ronald and Hermione.

"It's the truth, Draco," Ronald said. "Harry was violently ill and they whisked him off to Dumbledore in the middle of the night."

Draco folded his arms, still saying nothing.

"Go on upstairs and check, if you don't believe me," Ronald said. "You can probably still smell the stench of sick in the bedroom."

"Oh, I believe you," Draco said. "Who can I trust if not my FAITHFUL brother? So LOYAL. It's not like you'd ever give me the wrong idea about something on purpose. YOU wouldn't do that. Not you, Ronald."

Hermione stood squirming in the doorway to the spiral staircase. Draco wasn't here for Umbridge -- not anymore. He wasn't mad about missing Harry. He was mad at her for falling asleep head-to-head with his brother.