Fragments Of A Malfoy

Chapter Ten: Confession

"Granger!" Draco shouted, even though he knew it was unwise to shout anything while in the Forbidden Forest. You never knew what might answer. In this case, he hoped Hermione heard him and turned back before they both got killed. "Granger!" he screamed again, looking frantically from left to right, scanning the undergrowth for any suspicious movement. He ran deeper into the wood, leaves and branches crackling beneath his feet as he advanced. Fear gripped him as he realized he had no idea which direction Hermione had taken. He stopped dead and tried to catch his breath. Just then, he heard a scream. His heart nearly ceased to beat and his blood ran cold. It was Hermione.

The scream sounded again and Draco ran towards it. "Hermione!" he answered her at the top of his lungs, now desperate to reach her. Why had she chosen to run into the forest alone? What was so bloody important? Oak and Beech branches scratched into Draco's face and he swept past them, oblivious to their twisted arms reaching out to him.

"NO!" Hermione screamed.

"HERMIONE!" Draco turned toward her voice and tried to jump over a log blocking his path but ended up sprawled on the forest floor. His hand was cut and bleeding but he gripped his wand tighter and hauled himself up. Finally he was upon her and what he saw knocked the breath from his body.

There she was, her leg curled under her at an odd angle, her arms up to shield her face as Bane the Centaur reeled up on his hind legs to strike her.

"NO!" Draco screamed and pointed his wand at Bane. The spell was out of his mouth before he could think and a ghastly green light shot from his wand toward the centaur. The creature fell to the ground with a crash, stone dead.

"Draco!" Hermione screamed.

Stunned at what he'd done, Draco could not function for a few seconds. When his senses returned, he immediately scanned the forest for any other threats, then ran to Hermione's side. "We've got to get out of here," he panted.

He reached for her, but Hermione winced and cried out.

"You're hurt? What happened?" he demanded. "Dammit, Hermione."

"I-fell," she started.

"Tell me after we're safe. We still need to make it back in one piece." He looked up over her head and saw nothing but trees and hanging vines but the air was rife with the sense of danger. "They're going to find out about this and I don't want to be here when they do," he said, helping Hermione to her feet.

"Who?"

"The other centaurs."

Hermione shivered in his arms. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," she said, tears forming in her eyes. "I made you-"

"You didn't make me do anything."

"But-"

Draco was impatient to get moving. "Can you walk? I don't have my broom so we have to walk. I could try to carry you if you need."

"No, I can walk...it's my arm...it's broken. I fell. Then Bane found me..."

"We'll talk about it later. Come on."

Draco led Hermione back the way he'd come, instinct telling him which direction to take. They reached the log where he'd tripped and he helped her over it, then climbed after. Though the wood was fairly silent, Draco's ears pounded with blood until he'd safely made it to Hagrid's hut. He felt as if he might pass out; his head swam and he began coughing as the exertion caught up with him and his adrenaline lowered. He felt as if he'd been beaten by a hundred Centaurs.

"Draco, are you all right?" Hermione asked, her hand on his shoulder as he bent over, coughing.

"We need to get to the Hospital Wing," he said, and promptly fell into blackness. He didn't even feel the ground reach up to meet him.

*

A snuffling sound rang in his ears. Sniffling, small sighs, choked sobs. Am I dead? He wondered. Opening his eyes, he saw only a soft yellow glow for a moment until his gaze focused. A torch flamed with bright firelight on the far wall of the infirmary and Draco stared at it for a second before turning his head toward the crying noise.

"Hey," he said in a gravelly voice he didn't quite recognize.

"Draco!" Hermione whispered and moved into the light.

He hadn't even realized she'd been sitting next to him in the bed, holding his hand and sobbing. "What happened?" He had a vague memory of running in the forest but the rest was a blur. "How did I get here?"

"Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall found us out by Hagrid's hut. I screamed and screamed for help-"

"That why you sound so raspy?" he asked.

She smiled down at him. "So do you," she said.

"Ahh. Feels like a dagger in my throat."

"Madame Pomfrey fixed your hand and gave you a potion to help your head. She said you were exhausted."

"My hand?"

"Yes, it was badly cut. My leg was broken but she mended it; well, almost mended it. I had to drink that horrible stuff she gave to Harry once. I was so worried about you - I wasn't sure you'd ever wake up."

"Wake up? How long have I been sleeping?"

"Two days."

"That's impossible," said Draco incredulously.

"I've been so frightened. It's all my fault," she said, the tears coming again.

Draco looked up at Hermione and saw the drops of sorrow streaking her cheeks. He reached up and gently caressed them away. "Everything's all right now," he said, not sure if he believed it.

"Do you remember what happened?" she asked then.

"Not really," he admitted. "We were in the forest, running. I was screaming. That's all."

"You killed a centaur - he was going to kill me and you...you were there. I don't know how you found me. You saved my life."

"I did? I don't remember it." He shifted in the bed, tried to sit up. "I'm so bloody tired," he said, groaning.

"Let me get Madame Pomfrey-"

"No, wait," he said, taking her hand.

Hermione stayed where she was and Draco pulled himself up into a sitting position. They sat together for a few minutes, not speaking.

"Mr. Malfoy!" cried Madam Pomfrey as she entered the infirmary. "You're awake!" She rushed to his side and ushered Hermione off the bed. "How do you feel?" she inquired, checking his pulse and then his eyes.

"I don't remember much and I hurt all over."

"When you came in you had a nasty cut on your hand but we've taken care of that. It seems that you have nothing wrong with you now aside from being completely exhausted and having suffered an exceptionally bad case of hyperventilation."

Draco looked at her blankly.

"It means you were taking in far too much oxygen and not enough carbon dioxide. It can leave you feel achy and stiff. I wanted to allow you to sleep before I give you any potions. Now that you're back in the land of the living," she said, producing a large bottle of a bright pink potion. "It's time for some medication! This will ease the pain in your muscles. Now, now, Mr. Malfoy, you're not a baby anymore, take your potion," she said, trying to get the Slytherin to swallow the foul looking liquid.

He all but choked getting it down. "It's disgusting!"

"Such is the price we pay for healing," she snapped. "Now Miss Granger, it's time for you to leave him to rest. He'll be good as new in a few hours. We must let the potion do its work. And you should take it easy for the next few days and not tax your leg. It will be a while before the bone is completely healed and strong again."

"Can't she stay?" asked Draco.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I would prefer you slept after all you've been through."

"But I've BEEN sleeping - for two whole days!"

Hermione hung back, watching the exchange.

"Very well. Just don't complain to me if you don't heal properly," the Mediwitch said and left the two alone.

"She's so dramatic," said Draco with a sneer.

"I don't want to stay if it'll impair your healing, Draco. She's right."

"If you don't want to stay, then go," he said harshly.

"It's not like that. It's just night time now and..."

"Here, climb in," said Draco, pulling back the blankets and scooting to one side of the bed.

Hermione looked at him for a second as if she were thinking on whether or not getting into bed with him was a good idea, then carefully joined him.

"Ahh, that's better," he said with a sigh, nuzzling his head into her long tresses.

"You're so silly," she giggled. A pause. "I thought you hated me."

"I'm delirious."

"I didn't think you'd follow me back into the woods."

"I don't remember doing it."

"Well you did."

Draco felt sleep taking him away again and breathed in the scent of Hermione's hair. He felt safe. There were no memories to haunt him; mental images were held at bay and all he could think about was who was next to him. Hermione. Soft, warm. She felt right. As he drifted off he thought her heard her say something but he couldn't make it out.

*

The next few days passed quietly with Draco catching up on his studies and Herbology assignments and his memory slowly returning. It was not until the morning of the fifth day after the forest incident that he suddenly recalled performing Avada Kedavra on the centaur Bane. He was in the greenhouse at work on relocating a few small trees when panic swept though him and his stomach churned. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead causing Professor Sprout to eye him warily.

"You're not coming down with anything are you, Mr. Malfoy? You certainly look peaked this morning."

"I'm fine...no, I'm not fine. May I be excused? I think I'm going to be sick!" He didn't wait for her answer before bolting out of the greenhouse. He made it around the corner before his stomach gave up its contents. He trembled from head to toe. What if the Ministry knew? What if they came to get him? He'd be sent to Azkaban for sure--no one could perform an Unforgivable and get away with it. Draco recalled the few times in the last couple of days when Hermione had tried to broach a "serious subject" as she put it, but he'd always told her he wasn't up to it and didn't remember, anyway. Maybe she was trying to tell him what he'd done. She had to know - she was right there. A witness. His fate was sealed.

Yet, he thought, why haven't they come for me yet? I've been at Hogwarts every day since it happened and there's not been one Owl. Dumbledore had come to see him a couple of times and hadn't mentioned it. Could it be he didn't know? No. Dumbledore knew everything. Draco decided the best course of action was to find Hermione and together they'd seek Dumbledore's counsel. Surely he'd know what to do.

As Draco performed a cleaning spell to rid himself and the grass of the remnants of his indigestion, things went from bad to worse. Another memory crept into the forefront of his mind, pushing away all others, even the image of the green bolt of light. It was the memory of his father, holding him down, forcing him to-

"No!" Draco shouted, holding his head. He wanted to block it all, make the images stop flooding his mind. Every time he found a sliver of peace, something came along to tear it to shreds. Where could he run to escape from his own mind? Even sleep would not remain the sanctuary it had become since the forest. His mind had been blissfully calmed with no memories to invade it and he'd slept better than he had in over a year. But now they were back. All of the ugly things he'd done and the things that had been done to him: all the times he called Hermione "mudblood" and made her cry; What he'd said to her just before she ran into the forest; the confused and hurt look on her face when he'd told her everything they'd shared was a lie.

"What's wrong, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Professor Sprout as she rushed up to him. "Are you all right? Here, let me help you," she took his arm.

"I need to see Dumbledore!"

"All right, all right, calm yourself, lad. If you need to see him, we'll go," she said warmly.

Draco grew more and more upset as they made their way to Dumbledore's office. The old wizard allowed them in, then asked Professor Srout to leave.

"Draco, do sit down," Dumbledore began. "You're in no danger here."

"But I-I-"

"Yes, I know all about that. You've nothing to fear. You saved Hermione Granger's life."

Dumbledore helped Draco into a large stuffed chair near the window.

"Your memory has finally returned and it is playing havoc with your emotions," the old man observed. Lifting his wand, he cast a spell and Draco immediately felt calmer and the choking sensation faded.

"Hermione- she was doing an experiment. What was it? Who was she studying?" he asked.

"It was you. But you know that."

Draco realized he DID know this already. But how? "Why was she studying ME?"

"Your behavior had changed drastically in only one summer. We all noticed it. Miss Granger spoke with Professor McGonagall about trying to help you, to find out what had caused such a change. She suspected something had happened to you, that you did not become so cruel and vicious on your own. And she was right."

Draco snapped his head up to look at the aged man. "You know? Does...does Hermione...know?"

"After meeting with your father, my suspicions were confirmed. Miss Granger does not know. I thought it best that if she should find out, it would be from you. And if you choose not to tell her, that is your right."

"She was going into the forest for something...a plant of some sort..."

"Yes, she thought a rare sleeping draught could be altered to produce the effects of the Obliviate spell, only in small amounts. Her theory was that you were plagued by dreams, possibly visions. As we understand now, we know it was in fact memories."

Hermione had wanted to help him. She knew he was tormented, didn't even know WHY, and still she spent her summer at Hogwarts trying to find a cure for what ailed him. She did love him. He'd never before shown her true kindness, and it was when he was at his worst that she did her best for him. Draco's heart was near broken when he remembered how he'd treated her. "I was so hateful," he said.

"The abuse you've suffered is no trifling matter, Draco. It must end. I can not in good conscience allow your father to claim you from Hogwarts again. As you know, he is a very powerful man and will fight to get you back. I could see this in his eyes."

"Where can I go?"

"You have refuge here for the time being. You can be protected with magic, but Lucius Malfoy is on the side of darkness, and darkness stops at nothing to fulfill its evil ends."

"Why did he do that to me?" Draco asked quietly. "How can I ever be clean again?"

"In his hope to make you more a part of himself, your father has only succeeded in tearing you apart. You will have to pick up those pieces and forge a new self. Do you want to be the boy who walked in his father's footsteps, hating the world, hating those who were not of "pure" blood, hating himself? Or do you want to be the boy who had the strength to live on despite the evil that befell him?"

"It wasn't my fault, was it?" Draco looked into Dumbledore's eyes, beseeching him.

"It was not your fault."

A smile played on the corner of Draco's lips and for a moment he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "How do I make things right again?"

"We can all help you but you must ultimately find that answer yourself."

"I'll be safe here?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"And Hermione?"

"I believe there are a few things you both need to discuss," the wizard said, moving across the room to the door. He beckoned to Draco who stood and walked over to meet him.

"Thank you," said Draco. "For giving me so many chances. I know I don't deserve them."

"You are as worthy as any other one of my students."

"I just wish I could believe that," Draco said, looking at his shoes.

"Until you do, I will believe for you."

Draco smiled. Dumbledore could be corny sometimes but he sure knew how to make a person feel better. Draco gave a small nod and left Dumbledore's office in search of Hermione. The old wizard was right; Draco needed to finally confess.