The worst days of our lives

Chapter 3




After Blaise had left, Draco felt better. Lighter in some way. For the first time he had been able to talk about the murder. He felt relieved. Like a boulder dropped of his shoulders. He had hoped Blaise was still …well Blaise, that he wouldn’t judge him and still be his friend. And Blaise didn’t disappoint.



Suddenly a house elf appeared in the room. It was Mitsy, Draco’s old nanny.

‘What?’ he asked.

Mitsy seemed to tremble, her large eyes filling with tears.

‘Mitsy is happy, so very happy to see Mr. Malfoy back! Did they hurt Mr. Malfoy? Are you okay Mr. Malfoy?’

Draco frowned.

‘Of course I am fine Mitsy. What do you want?’

‘Master Malfoy and Mrs. Malfoy want Mr. Malfoy to come down for dinner in thirty minutes,’ she said timidly.

Draco nodded.

‘I’ll be there Mitsy, you can leave now.’

With a pop Mitsy disappeared.



This was going to be harder than he originally thought. His parents felt awkward around him, like he would explode any minute now, to start ranting about filthy Muggles. How could he tell them he wasn’t that kind of person anymore? That he didn’t believe in the bullshit he was taught anymore. Especially when one’s father is a pureblood supremacist.



Draco sighed and grabbed a bunch of papers from his bag. The only belongings he had had in Azkaban: a toothbrush, two sets of clothing (potato sacks if you asked him), a hairbrush, three pencils, an eraser and a load of sketching paper. Draco smirked idly, what would his death eater friends say now if they knew Draco had turned to the creative arts to feel as least a bit human? He opened his drawing folder and looked through it. Sketches of his cell, sketches of himself in his cell, sketches of the others, sketches of what he dreamed the outside of Azkaban looked like, with the sea and the wind and the rocks. Then there were the pictures of his ‘friends’. Making friends in Slytherin isn’t hard. It’s very simple because in Slytherin you hardly had any other options, you couldn’t be friends with the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs or, the least of all, Gryffindors. So Slytherins were the only options. And it also depended on your definition of ‘friends’. People to hang out with seemed like a better definition.



He drew Pansy, sitting on the Hogwarts express, from memory. She kind of looked alike. He still had a lot of practice to do, because sure, Pansy looked like a human being, but not like the Pansy he knew. That’s the thing, he could draw human beings, but he couldn’t give them that little bit of magic that makes people recognize them.



He also drew Blaise and Theodore Nott, he drew his parents, his house elf and the Malfoy Manor.

Draco decided to work on his latest project: the perfect woman. He hadn’t come much further than the legs, but Merlin’s left ball, what legs they were.



Dinner with his parents wasn’t for at least 25 minutes so he had time. He put his pencil on the paper and started to draw.



*****



Hermione stood in front of the door. She had been standing here for twelve minutes and still she hadn’t moved. Luckily it was dark outside so her parents wouldn’t see her. She hesitated, should she go in? Or should she just leave. They did have the books she needed, they were still in her old bookcase upstairs.



Before she could change her mind she knocked and held her breath.


Hermione shifted from one leg to the other with closed eyes.

The door opened.

‘Oh Hermione it’s you,’ her mother said a bit frostily.

‘Yes Mum, it’s me. Can I come in?’

‘Yes you may,’ her mum said as she turned around and sat down on the couch.

‘Where’s dad?’ Hermione asked as she shuffled into her old house. Nothing really changed. All the pictures were still on the mantle, the furniture was still the same.

‘Black Jack evening.’

‘Oh.’

Her mother fell silent. Hermione couldn’t stand it.

‘How have you been mum?’

‘Fine Hermione.’

‘And how’s dad?’

‘Also fine.’

That was helpful. Hermione sighed.

‘Why are you here Hermione?’ her mother asked tiredly. Hermione took a good look at her and she noticed how tired and worn out her mother looked.

‘Mum are you okay? You look horrible,’ Hermione said as she sat down next to her mother on the couch.


‘I am fine. You want to know what my problem is? You see, I have this daughter. She is such a lovely, brave and very clever girl. But she’s not the same as I am, as her dad is. She’s different, a witch you know. And she conveniently forgot to tell her parents that there was a war going on, one in which she played a very large part. And because she was afraid for our wellbeing, she send us away to Australia, I’m sure you know Australia? Yes, well, she sent US, the parents away, while we SHOULD be here to protect our daughter. Do you know how much that hurts Hermione? Do you? To know that you, as a parent, cannot protect your child? And then afterwards find out it was ‘in our best interest’. That hurts, Hermione, that bloody hurts.’


Hermione couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She balled her fists and stood up.

‘Answer me one question mother,’ she said stiffly, ‘Are you alive?’


Her mother answered just as stiffly: ‘Yes.’


‘Then what’s your bloody problem! You could have died if you stayed here mum! I’m sure they never told you this, but I nearly died! They tortured me! I felt like all my organs were being squeezed out of my body, like my blood was on fire, like there were several knifes puncturing my arms and legs! You have never experienced anything like that and I wanted to keep it that way. What I did was my decision, and if you don’t agree with it that is your own problem. I did what I had to do to keep my beloved parents safe. And if you can’t be with me for it, so be it. I would do it all again if I had to.’


Hermione walked past the couch, upstairs to her old bedroom. She grabbed the books she was going to need this year and went back downstairs. Their eyes locked for a moment.

‘Goodbye mum. Maybe I’ll see you for Christmas or in the spring break,’ Hermione said. She strolled to the front door.


Her mother called after her but she didn’t react, she just barged out of the door and apparated to Grimmauld Place. She couldn’t be at the Burrow now, it was too busy.


Hermione went over to the alcohol cabinet and got out a butterbeer. She could so use this. She sunk down in the couch, took a sip of her drink and let the tears fall. Her parents couldn’t stand the sight of her. They had been so loving, so caring. But what Hermione had done was apparently the ultimate betrayal. She finished her butterbeer and put the bottle on the table.


Suddenly the floo turned green and Harry stepped through, his forehead covered in soot. As soon as he saw Hermione sitting on the couch he flew to her.


‘Hermione? What happened?’ he asked as he sat down next to her.


Hermione sniffed and wiped her nose.


‘My parents hate me, ‘ she croaked, ‘they just don’t understand Harry! They have never been in a war like we have. They only hear the word war, but don’t get the images that the word evokes in me. They know we’ve been through a war, but they haven’t seen it. They just don’t understand,’ she finished in a high pitched voice.


Harry frowned and wrapped his arms around her.


‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.


Hermione buried her face in his chest and cried.


‘Ginny and I got into a fight tonight,’ Harry said, smiling a bit sadly.


Hermione looked up.


‘Oh I’m so sorry Harry. What kind of friend am I, never asking how you are.’


‘It’s okay. I think Ginny is staying at the Burrow tonight. You want to stay here?’ Harry asked.


‘Yes please. I can’t go to the Burrow. Way too much noise. I need some quiet. Thank you Harry.’




****



Pansy was doubting. Her normal dressrobes or the extravaganza ones? She couldn’t decide so she put both of them in her trunk. You never knew when you might need them. She had bought her books today, in Diagon Alley. Pansy smiled to herself. It was a successful day. No one had sneered at her or called her names. A step in the right direction. Hogwarts would probably be different, very different. She was just glad she didn’t have an ugly snake and skull tattoo on her left arm. That would have made things considerably worse.



Maybe, just maybe she could get through this.



*******



A/N: For my fic I decided to erase the Epilogue of DH and decided to reverse a few deaths!



With special thanks to my wonderful beta's Zynn & Enwen!