Not All that Glitters is Gold

The sun rose high into the sky, its beams deciding at that moment to blush across Draco’s sleeping form, settling on his face. The brightness of the light forced his face to scrunch as he groaned. When his body rolled to the side to escape the blinding light, he felt a sharp pang against his chest. It was as if his heart had suddenly lurched forward, straight out of his chest, then bounce back into place. Parting his lips for a much needed breath, he inhaled a sweet scent of cinnamon buns through his teeth and could almost taste it.

He heard distinctive whispers but they were too muddled for him to understand. Was he dead again? Was his death and rebirth a fabrication? Did the fates decide to play a crude trick on him after all those years of being a spoiled git? Perhaps, but right now it didn’t seem that way. He felt a warm hand trace across his forehead and rolled onto his back where his face scrunched again from the light. Something damp and cold touched his skin, and for the first time he realized how hot he had been. The icy feeling made him jump slightly but settle once it began to spread across his face.

He tried to gulp but his throat was hurting so much. Too surprised that he couldn’t utter a single sound without it scorching his tonsils, Draco forced his eyes open. The room around him was bright orange and looked like the size of his small linen closet at the manor. Chudley Cannons posters covered nearly every inch of the wall but he could make out the sickening orange colors lurking behind him. There was a distinctive scent about the room; almost a mixture of socks and lemons. A strange combination indeed.

His eyes darted around the room until they settled on a blurred face. Grinning form ear to ear, he brought his hand up and raked his fingers through the long dark locks. They were far softer and more straight then he remembered and it almost had a greasy feeling to them. As the face came into light, Draco squinted his eyes.

They bolted open at that moment and he nearly jumped out of bed but found himself tangled in the sheets. What the bloody hell was going on? He had just ran his fingers through Severus Snape’s hair and enjoyed it! He felt like retching at the moment and it came a second later. Snape jumped over the bed and held a large pan under Draco as stomach acid exploded from his mouth. He was never going to be able to look at Snape again. He needed to chop his hand off.

“Easy, Draco.” Snape said lightly, pushing the blond boy back against the bed, “You’ve been very ill for the past few days.”

“I died,” Draco whispered, settling in. “I died and went to King’s Cross. Saw Dumbledore and…”

“Hallucinations from the spell,” Snape spoke lightly, kneeling over on the side of the bed, “Your father was rather finicky when it came to using the killing curse. Light modifications of the last syllable made it seem as if he casted the curse, when in reality he merely poisoned you.”

Draco frowned. It wasn’t a hallucination. He had died and deep down he knew it. Whatever Snape was going on about made him want to reach over and bash the fool in the face. He knew that his godfather was only trying to make him feel better. It’s not everyday some one is hit by the killing curse and survives it. He’d let the old coot think he believed him, but he knew better. Draco was far from stupid.

“How long have I been ill?” Draco managed to ask as he brought a hand to his scratchy throat. “Where’s Hermione?”

Snape leaned down and grabbed something from the mantle before handing it to Draco. He examined the vial and shrugged, uncorking it and drinking its contents. Almost instantly, the pain disappeared and he felt a million times better. He was still abnormally hot, but he has a suspicion it was the room’s color that made it appear that way.

“A few days. The Order has been discussing what to do with you,” Snape explained, prying the bottle from Draco’s hand.

“What about Hermione? Is she…” Draco began when the door opened.

Both he and Snape turned to the visitor and he felt his hopes disappear. It wasn’t Hermione, rather the red headed chit he remembered meeting his second year. Her flaming hair only seemed to make him more hot and uncomfortable. Ginny looked between Snape and Draco, her hand grasping onto the door knob.

“Yes, Ms. Weasley?” Snape inquired, raising one of his massive eyebrows.

“He’s awake,” she said, nodding to Draco.

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, She-Weasel,” Draco spat at her; not sure why he felt so angered. “Where’s Hermione.”

Ginny stiffened and if she held onto that door knob any tighter he was certain she’d crunch it into dust.

“Well?” Draco asked louder, wondering if she had gone deaf. “Where is she?”

“She doesn’t want to see you, Malfoy.” Ginny sneered angrily at him, her bright eyes darting back to Snape, “Mum wants to know if you want breakfast.”

“No thank you,” Snape replied, coming to a stand, “But perhaps Mr. Malfoy here could do with some real nourishment.”

Ginny glared at Draco but said nothing when she left. He thought he heard her shout that ‘he was awake’ when the door slammed shut. Draco frowned again. Hermione didn’t want to see him? That was ridiculous. She loved him. He would show that stupid little chit, with her red hair, freckles and vague expression.

He tried to move but felt his arms being held by invisible ropes. “What the…” Draco grunted, trying to pull himself out of bed, “What is going on!”

The door exploded again, just as Snape parted his lips to speak. Draco’s head shot into the direction of the door and groaned. Not another Weasley.

“You fucking bleeding bastard!” Ron shouted at him, attempting to lunge at him but two large hands grasped onto his arms, “First Hermione then my brothers! You’re going to pay, Malfoy!”

“Ron, get a hold of yourself,” came the voice of Harry Potter, who struggled to restrain Ron. “We got Hermione back…”

“Yeah but his bloody league of Death Eaters have my brothers! They could be,” Ron growled angrily, shooting daggers at Draco.

“They’re far from dead, Mr. Weasley,” Snape interrupted, coming to stand next to Draco. He pulled his wand out and released the invisible binds on the Malfoy heir. “In fact, they are giving hell to a certain mentally unstable witch.”

“What?” Ron asked, sounding completely dumbfounded, his rage subsiding.

“Snape’s right, Weasel.” Draco continued, rising from the bed. He nearly toppled over but Snape’s arm shot out and grabbed onto him, holding him steady. “Father says that your whole lot drives Aunt Bellatrix mad. Last time I saw her, she was literally missing hair from having pulled it out. Something about them creating dungbombs in the dungeons and using them against her.”

“Well,” Ron stumbled with his words, but he sounded a little proud, “They’re still captured and it’s all your fault.”

“Yes, it’s my fault wizards and witches are born to muggles.” Draco grumbled, feeling Snape’s hand tighten against him.

“Is there anything else you want, Mr. Weasley? Mr. Potter?” Snape asked quite calmly, “Or am I free to attend to Mr. Malfoy?”

“No, there isn’t Professor,” Harry replied, narrowing his eyes at Draco, “Mrs. Weasley is insisting that you eat. She’s made him a plate as well.”

“Very well, we shall join you in a moment.”

Harry nodded and had to force Ron out of the room. Draco let out a sigh and leaned back against a shabby dresser, “Is it always this busy? I’m surprised any one gets any peace and quiet.”

“It has been far more active since your arrival.” Snape replied, bringing his wand to the tip of Draco’s nose.

It began to glow a bright yellow as he traveled lower and around Draco’s body. Clearly, he was assessing his health. Draco was always proud of his health, being very athletic, but he couldn’t help but feel a pit in his stomach. He looked at Snape, whose lips had gone to a fine line, and looked away.

“How long have you been on their side?” Draco asked, watching out of the corner of his eye as Snape pocketed his wand.

“Years.” Snape replied, pulling out several shirts and slacks from the closet and placed them on the bed. “Find something suitable to wear.”

Draco glanced down and frowned, “Those are muggle clothing.”

“And? Would you rather wear your Death Eater robes in front of the entire Order?”

He guessed not but still grimaced at the sight of them. Snape stepped out of the room to allow Draco the privacy to change. He got his head stuck in the arm hole of a shirt and stumbled a little. Running into the dresser, Draco stubbed his foot and let out a horrible howl.

Snape was in the room in a flash but looked rather amused than worried for his godson. He sighed and moved to help Draco pull the shirt on. Looking down, Draco groaned at the plain gray shirt with something that said AC/DC printed on it. Rather tacky clothing indeed. He found it easier to put on the slacks as they were rather similar to wizarding slacks, although they didn’t adjust for the right size and hung loosely on his waist.

“Great. I look bloody awful,” Draco grumbled, glancing at his reflection on the mirror.

“You look fine, now let’s go.” Snape said, prying Draco from the mirror as he tried to fix his mop of blond hair.

They stumbled down the stairs and Draco froze. The entire living room was covered with people. Almost every Hogwarts professor, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, his aunt Andromeda and her husband, the Weasleys minus the twins, and even a few students and their families were situated along long winding tables that hardly matched. It looked like a mess hall, if he knew what that was.

Draco felt his face go red when everyone grew quiet and stared at him. Ron was giving him the stink eye, followed by his sister and so forth. Only Harry seemed to look passively at Draco and go back to his meal. His eyes scanned for Hermione but she was missing and he suddenly felt ill. What if she was hurt? What if she had died too? He remembered seeing her when he was brought back, but even then that might have been a trick.

“Oh dear,” came the voice of the plump Mrs. Weasley as she pushed her way out of the kitchen and moved to Draco. “You look famished. Come along. Come along.”

The woman wrapped her arms around Draco with such warmth that he felt his face turn beet red. His mother never held him like that, let alone talked to him without so much as a condescending tone. He was placed firmly next to Snape and Remus Lupin, his former DADA professor. A plate descending down and instantly piled high with food.

Draco felt all eyes on him and he suddenly felt his appetite disappear. He looked around the tables as everyone slowly went back to what they were doing. Snape was busily eating and conversing with Kingsley while Remus merely looked down at Draco before taking a bite of his eggs.

Clearing his throat, Draco parted his lips to speak, “No one seems to be able to answer this question.” Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked to the blond young adult, “but, where is Hermione?”

There was a clatter and before Draco could look up, he saw a large fist come flying at him. It hit him square in the eye and sent him tumbling back over his chair and onto the floor. Shouting erupted as more punches were thrown at Draco, who managed to kick his assailant square in the chest and roll onto his side where he felt a foot come flying into his stomach.

“Break it up! Break it up!” Remus shouted, grabbing onto the scruff of Draco’s collar and pulled him to his feet.

“Ronald!” Mrs. Weasley shouted, waving an angry spoon at him, “How dare you…”

“No mum. How dare HE ask about Hermione! After all that he’s bloody done to her!” Ron snarled, attempting to reach Draco again. “You rapist! You bloody bastard! I will kill you for what you did to her!”

“I saved her life!” Draco shouted over the roars of voices around him, “She would’ve been dead if it wasn’t for me!”

“Right and forcing yourself on her is considered saving!” Ron struggled against Bill and Charlie’s grasp. “You stole her innocence and you bloody better pay for it!”

Draco shoved Remus from him and glared at Ron, “Is that a threat, Weasley? Because all it seems like you are doing is threatening. ALL of you. Do you have ANY idea what the Dark Lord has been planning while you sit here and eat your breakfast?”

He spat at the table, causing Charlie and Bill to nearly trample Ron, if not for Mr. Weasley and Snape. Draco narrowed his eyes, “He’s going to wipe all of you out while you sit on your arse and make threats.”

His voice calmed somewhat when he heard Ginny’s voice over the crowd, “Mum.” Mrs. Weasley looked at her daughter, whose eyes were locked past Draco. Everyone in the area turned and Draco followed suit.

“He’s right,” came a soft velvety voice, “Voldemort is planning something big and we can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“Hermione.” Draco whispered, looking at her with wide eyes.

She held onto the railing, her arm draped over her stomach. She looked ill but at least she had color on her face. Long brown curls ran down her shoulders and over a long maroon night gown that resembled something that patients at a hospital wore. Ginny pushed through the crowd and went straight to Hermione, helping her down.

“Hermione, dear. You should be resting,” Molly said motherly, parting the crowd.

She reached Hermione quickly and helped her to a chair. Draco looked to Snape and back at Hermione. He tried to move through the crowd to get to her but felt Snape’s hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley. Just a little faint is all,” Hermione said cautiously, not meeting Draco’s desperate gaze. “But he is right. We need to be doing something.”

“We are working on it, dear,” Molly comforted, pulling a large blanket over her shoulders. “You just need to rest and take it easy.”

“Get off of me,” Draco snapped, finally shattering the small piece of silence that fell over the room. He jerked his way from Snape and pushed through the crowd. “Hermione.”

She didn’t look at him, but he didn’t care. He moved in front of her and kneeled down. His hands were shaking when he traced them over her shoulders.

“Hermione, are you alright?” He whispered quietly, leaning over to make her look at him.

“Of course she’s not bloody alright!” Ron snarled, tearing through the crowd, “Get away from her, Malfoy.”

Draco stood, nearly at Ron’s height, and stared at him. “Or what? You going to make empty threats again, Weasley?”

“I don’t need to make threats, Malfoy.” Ron said stubbornly, balling his fist up. “I’m going to pummel you into the ground and then you’ll see.”

“I don’t see you swinging. So, there goes another threat.” Draco’s teeth clenched tightly, grinding together.

“Enough!” Hermione snapped, moving to her feet. Ginny went to help but she held her hand out to stop her. “Will you two just save it? I don’t need either of you protecting me, seeking revenge, or any of the nonsense.”

Ron’s ears turned red as he looked Draco up and down, “He’s not even worth it.”

“Coward.” Draco growled under his breath, watching as Ron lunged at him. They were both restrained instantly with Ron shouting expletives at Draco.

“Urgh!” Hermione threw her hands up and stalked slowly out of the room. Draco tore himself away from Mr. Weasley and darted after Hermione.

“Hermione,” he spoke carefully, reaching out for her.

Hermione snatched her hand away from him, “Don’t talk to me, Draco. Don’t say a single syllable.”

“I thought. We….you…I…” Draco’s color began to drain when Hermione reached the top step and turned to look at him.

“Don’t you even realize what happened? I used you. I knew you loved me and I exploited it. I wanted to get out of that house so badly,” her voice was barely above a whisper, but her eyes glistened, “I hate you and I always will. So please, leave me alone.”

Draco froze right there and stared at her. Hermione batted away a few tears and brought her hands to her stomach before crumpling over. He shot to her and grasped onto her body, lowering her onto the ground.

“I don’t care if you hate me, used me, lied to me.” He whispered, looking down into her chocolate eyes, “I came back from the dead for you. And I’ll prove it. I’ll show you what I’m made of. I’ll make you love me.”

Mrs. Weasley gasped and rushed up the stairs, Snape following suit. “Oh, Hermione!”

Snape reached between Draco and grasped onto Hermione, hoisting her into his arms. “Get me some sleeping draught,” he ordered Molly, who nodded and disappeared down the hall.

Draco sat on his heels as Snape carried Hermione into another bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot. Molly rushed past him and entered the room, followed by Ginny. He slowly rose to his feet and brought his hand to his face, rubbing his eyes. When he turned, he nearly collided into Harry Potter.

“We need to talk, Malfoy.” Harry said calmly, grabbing onto Draco’s arm and pulling him into a nearby room, the door locking behind them.