Not All that Glitters is Gold

========================================================================================
Silence
========================================================================================


The door to a smallish inn in the south of France jingled as two men walked on. Both looked remarkably similar in that they had black hair with matching green eyes and were draped in dark crimson robes. The witch sitting at the small misshapen desk peered from her copy of the Daily Prophet, which was listing the casualties during a recent break-out in Romania, and pulled her spectacles from the bridge of her crooked nose.

“One room?” she asked, looking over the two men with suspicious eyes.

“Two beds,” the taller one said gruffly, throwing a small satchel of gold onto the desk.

She eyed it and nodded, waving her hand behind her. A golden key lifted from the hook amongst other hanging keys and floated forward, dropping into her crinkly spider like fingers. She held the keys out, to which the other man reached out and snatched it from her.

“Room 304,” she said, resuming her reading of the Daily Prophet, “Breakfast is at nine. Midnight tea is at…well midnight.”

“We won’t be staying long,” the tall one replied, nudging his companion.

The witch watched out of the corner of her eye as the two men climbed the spiraling steps and disappeared.

“Hmm,” she tilted her head back and shrugged, going back to her reading.

They reached the door and once inside, they sighed and slumped against various pieces furniture. Rubbing his head, blond roots began showing and what looked like ash fell from his face. Draco shrugged out of his transfigured cloak and sat on the edge of the bed with his fingers running through his hair. Ron was busy looking around the room and shook his head free of the glamour enchantment, bright strands of red exploded atop his head.

“Think she suspected anything?” Ron asked, looking out the window as rain began to fell.

“No, this is the darker part of France. Loads of strange men probably come through here,” Draco replied, leaning back, “If anything she thinks we’re…”

“We’re what?” Ron swung around with wide eyes, “Rubbing each other’s wands?”

“More or less,” Draco shrugged, pulling his shoes off.

“What! But we’re not,” he stammered, “We purposely made ourselves look like brothers…I…”

“Just shut your gob, Weasel,” the blonde replied, unbuttoning his shirt, “If that’s what they think then let them.”

“How can you look so…so…”

“Calm?” Draco quirked an eyebrow when Ron nodded, “Believe me, beneath this exterior I am just as nervous as you are. Now, I’m going to take a shower and then we can get some sleep.”

Draco pulled his shirt from him and moved into the bathroom, sneering at the sight of it. Small, cramped and with one small dirty looking tub placed against the far wall. He closed his eyes and kicked the door shut behind him. There was no time for him to complain about this. Not when Hermione was at stake.

When he exited from the shower, he found Ron draped over one bed with his mouth hanging open. Draco brought a hand to his face and rubbed the worry lines that he knew were beginning to from. Striding over to the other poorly made bed, Draco sat at the edge and dropped his face into his hands. His groans were masked by the loud roaring snore of Weasley on the other side of the room.

Pulling the sheets back, Draco fell into bed and closed his eyes, trying to get some form of sleep. He rolled his head to the side and was tempted to stuff his dirty sock into Weasley’s mouth to shut him up, but he was too exhausted to do so. Walking for hours made his muscles stiff and he seriously needed to rest them before they end up ruined. Sleep slowly overtook him, but not for long.

“MALFOY!” Ron’s voice boomed as the room shook.

Draco scrambled out of bed and nearly fell to the ground as he reached for his wand. He ran into Weasley where both looked at the door as it shook.

“Shit,” Draco shouted, holding his wand out, “They found us.”

“They?” Ron asked trying to pull a shirt on as Draco threw furniture in front of the door.

“Death Eaters,” Draco replied, pulling a shoe on, “We have to get out of here…”

“How could they…” Ron began but was silenced when Draco tossed his trousers at him.

“Shut up and get dressed,” he ordered, “The protection charm isn’t going to hold for much longer.”

The door bubbled under the various exploding spells that was cast on one side while being held together by the charm Draco has cast. Ron pulled his wand out just as the door exploded, having broken through the charm. Draco flew back from the whiplash and crashed against a large moving portrait of the ocean. Glass broke around him as he fell to the ground and showered over him. Light twinkled around them from the reflection but just at that moment, Ron and Draco rose in unison.

They held their wands out and bellowed hex after hex. Jets of light streamed through the tips of their wands, cascading the room in a shower of fireworks. Draco reached out and grasped onto the top of Ron’s shirt and yanked him away as the killing curse inched past them. Ron gave him a thank you nod and threw a protection spell over them.

Looking around quickly, Draco kicked up the seat beside the small table and pointed his wand at it. “Cover your ears and eyes, Weasley,” he shouted over the loud roars of the Death Eaters.

Transfiguring the chair into a bright orb of sorts, Draco tossed it into the center of the room and shouted, “Bombarda!”

The orb exploded in a shower of shrieks and blinding light. Ron covered his ears and clenched his eyes shut but managed to find Draco in the darkness and grasped onto him. With a faint pop, the pair had disappeared and reappeared just outside the inn.

Falling to the ground, Ron opened his eyes and found that he had to squint as the light emitted from their room made the entire area look as if day had come. He glanced down and nearly hurled at the sight of Draco. Flesh charred and lips parted, Draco wasn’t breathing. Moving to his feet, Ron grasped onto Draco and looked around before Apparating elsewhere.

He appeared just outside Shell Cottage and stumbled toward the door, holding onto Draco’s heavily bleeding body. The door flew open at the beckoning of the wards and two wands were held.

“Stop!” a voice boomed, “Who is there?”

“Bill,” Ron rasped, trying to hold onto the heavy git, “It’s your brother.”

“Oh Ron!” Fleur cried, rushing through the gate to him, “Bill it iz Draco!”

Bill lowered his wand and moved quickly as well, helping Ron carry Draco into the house. Fleur stayed outside and recast the wards, thickening them as the trio disappeared into Shell Cottage. She followed shortly and fell to her knees when Bill placed Draco on the cleared table.

“Iz he…” she breathed, looking to her husband.

“He’s still alive,” Bill said with a breath, moving his wand over Draco’s body, “Fleur, I need replenishing potions, hot water and a shit load of towels.”

“We were ambushed,” Ron whispered as Fleur rushed out of the room.

“You two shouldn’t have gone out there alone,” Bill growled, “You could’ve gotten killed! What would mum say?”

“They have Hermione, Bill!” Ron shouted, clenching onto his wand, “What did you think I was going to do? Just let them keep her?”

“We’ve already discussed this, Ron,” his red headed brother explained, “As much as it hurts all of us…”

Ron snorted and leaned back against the table, “Maybe Malfoy was right…you all are cowards.”

There was a small moment of silence before Bill slammed his hand on the table and rose, “You are so fool hardy that you don’t take the time to look at every opportunity that comes to us. Hermione is safe as long as Draco’s House-elf can enter her room. She is not stupid, Ron. She understands the danger of all of this.”

“Hermione…”

Bill and Ron grew quiet when Draco tilted his head up and whispered her name. His lips were blistered to the point where blood oozed from the wounds, half of his face covered in soot and dirt. He rolled his head to the side and slowly tried to open his eyes but found the burns in his left eye too heavy for him to fully open them.

“Shh,” Ron said quietly, “You’re really hurt, Malfoy. What the bloody hell did you do in there?”

“Insol charm,” he breathed, listening to Bill groan.

“That’s very foolish, Malfoy,” Bill said moving to the side as Fleur nudged her way through.

“All I could think of, at the moment,” he rasped, closing his eyes when Fleur tipped his head back and fed him the replenishing potion.

“Insol charm?” Ron asked, looking to Bill.

“He more or less insolated heat and light equal to the sun,” Bill explained, watching the wounds on Draco’s face slowly heal, “You two are going to stay here tonight and tomorrow we’re going back to the Burrow…”

“No,” Draco said harshly, “I will find…I have to save…”

“It’s alright mate,” Ron replied, resting a hand on his shoulder, “We’ll figure this out.”

“Hermione,” Draco groaned scrunching his eyes closed tighter, “I can’t leave her…I…I love her.”

Silence.