Upside Down

SOrry it took so long to post. I had some trouble with my internet, and it turned out all I had to do was restart my laptop......which I never do.......ugh....

Thanks for all the support, and now....a new chapter! YAY!!!!!!!!!
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Draco awoke slowly, the dull throbbing of his back and shoulders pulling him from the mercy of unconsciousness. He was also vaguely aware of voices around him, and an empty feeling in his stomach.

“You awake?”

He didn’t recognize the voice. It wasn’t the curly-haired angel he’d seen before. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place exactly where he knew her from. This voice was decidedly…..accented. American. He cracked his eyes, and nearly jumped off of the other side of the cot when a face was nearly pressed against his. He growled in annoyance, and the face pulled back. A girl…no older than fifteen or sixteen. She had dark, straight hair, and brilliant green eyes. With his luck, she was some lost sister of The-Boy-Who-Was-A-Pain-In-The-Dark-Lord’s-Arse.

“Are you hungry?” the girl was talking to him. Ugh….but he didn’t have a chance to try and formulate an answer, because his stomach growled quite loudly. The girl grinned. “Yes….you’re hungry. Hermione went out to get you and your mom some clothes and ‘amenities’ and pick up some groceries. She said I had to watch over you.”

Hermione. There was only one girl with that name that Draco had ever encountered. Hermione Granger, Muggle-born brain extraordinaire. Damnit….What did she want? Was that the same woman that had given him water? It couldn’t be…Hermione Granger had been a shapeless, frizzy, annoying bitch the last time he had encountered her.

“Hello?” The American had the nerve to poke him in the forehead! He pulled back, and growled, ignoring the pain that lanced through his throat when he did. “Geez! Don’t have a hippogriff! I was just trying to ask you if you wanted me to bring you some of the chicken-noodle soup I made!” she snapped. Draco looked at the American, trying to figure out if she meant him harm. He breathed a sigh through his nostrils, and nodded. “Yay! I’ll be back!” she said, and skipped out of the room. He rolled his eyes in annoyance. Americans…

But something the girl had said earlier suddenly clicked in his head. His mother! She said his mother was here! He tried to push himself up on his hands, but a fiery prick of agony shot through him, and he cried out hoarsely. Things were starting to come back to him…

He had failed to kill a Muggle girl on his final Mission. He had failed his last chance to prove that he could kill anyone for the Master. The Dark Lord had announced him a traitor to the cause, and sentenced him to death. His mother and father were to bear witness to his execution in hopes that it would shock them back into loyalty. Humph….not bloody likely…

He vaguely remembered hearing his mother crying out while he took his whipping. But he hadn’t been sure if it was emotional or physical agony. He had been a little preoccupied with dying…

He looked around, taking in his surroundings. His mother wasn’t in this….tiny room…but she had to be here somewhere. He tried once again to lift himself, but his vision was blurred with tears when another wave of agony hit him. Fucking albino snake-bastard man-thing….

The infernal American came back with a large steaming mug in her hand, a straw sticking out of it.

“Hermione said if you got hungry to let you drink out of a straw…she doesn’t want you chewing and swallowing, because it could pull at the wound on your neck.” She said. She approached the bed, and held the mug out to him. He started to reach out to take it, and she pulled it back. “No….I won’t have you dropping it and splattering yourself. I’ll hold, you suck.” She said. He looked at the bossy little American, and raised a perfect flaxen eyebrow. Her face colored. “Get your mind out of the gutter and drink your soup!” she snapped, a grin playing at the corners of her mouth. Maybe the little foreigner wasn’t so bad…

And neither was the soup! She had apparently pulverized the noodles and chicken in the mixture, making it a thick and creamy fare. But then again, he was so hungry that hot piss would have been acceptable. He was disappointed when he reached the bottom of the mug, but satisfied nonetheless.

“So, did the lowly little American do a pretty good job making you some food?” she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice. If Draco didn’t know any better….he’d say she was flirting….

He nodded gently, though. He lifted his hand, and made a writing motion with his index and middle finger pressed against his thumb.

“You want to write something?” she asked. He nodded. Ruby left the room, and came back a few minutes later with a pen and pad. She suspended the pad in the air magically so he could bear down, and he looked oddly at the Muggle pen for a moment before pressing the tip to the paper and scrawling a short message. Ruby looked down.

How is mother?

“Your mom’s fine. She’s actually napping in the den. She fell asleep watching the television. Ah….it was quite amusing, actually.” Ruby said, grinning. “She thought the suckers were stuck inside the box!” Ruby laughed. Draco frowned. He didn’t like people laughing at his mother. But if she was safe, and resting….

The sound of the front door caught Ruby’s attention. “That’s cousin Hermione! I’ll go tell her that you’re awake!” she said, and bounced out of the room before Draco could stop her. He didn’t even know who the fiery little foreigner was… Well…he’d ask Granger. She was a virtual cornucopia of answers…

And he didn’t have to wait long for her to show up, either. She came into the room, carrying several bags.

“Ruby tells me you ate some of her soup, Malfoy. Do you feel better?” she asked. He regarded Hermione momentarily, before nodded slowly. Hermione pulled up a chair, and plopped it down beside the bed.

She took a seat and looked Draco in the face. “I’m not even going to pretend that I saved you just because I like you, Malfoy. Matter of fact, you and your mum would probably be dead on the floor of the Forbidden Forest if it weren’t for my cousin Ruby.” She started. She locked her own golden eyes with his silver ones. “I’m also not going to even pretend to know what has been going on in that silver blonde head of yours since Hogwarts. But I want to make a deal with you.” She said. He pursed his lips, and snorted angrily.

“Mmmnnngggg…” he gurgled. He shook his head in frustration when he couldn’t get the words to form.

“Stop trying to talk. Use your pen and pad or you’ll permanently damage your voice.” She said, pointing to the paper and pen in his hand. He scribbled furiously, and tilted the pad towards her.

Where is my mother?

“Your mum is in the main room asleep. We introduced her to the television after Ruby changed her bandages.” Upon seeing the worried look on Draco’s face, she told him the story of seeing them in the woods. He wrote something on the pad, and she looked down.

Contact my father. He’ll help.

Hermione looked at the pad warily. “I don’t know….are you sure he’ll help?” she asked, drawing her lip between her teeth.

Draco grinned, and nodded. He wrote again, and shoved the pad to her.

I know he’ll help. He regrets everything. Use it against him.

“That seems a bit duplicitous….” Hermione said softly. More scribbling.

That’s a bit Slytherin.

~~

Hermione, Draco, and Narcissa all decided it would be better to contact Lucius once the two were healed. So, it fell to Hermione and Ruby to continue to nurse the two. Hermione was much dismayed to note that Draco was a whiney, pampered little brat, constantly ringing the bell she had provided for him, and using his best silver puppy-dog eyes when she started to complain. And he was very good at it, too.

Narcissa and Ruby were getting along swimmingly. Ruby was fascinated by the pureblooded society that Narcissa was from, and in turn Narcissa found Magical America to be mesmerizingly….liberal. Narcissa was also interested in Ruby’s ability to cook. She was under the impression only poor mothers of several children (coughcough Weasleys coughcough) cooked manually. But Ruby quickly dispelled that impression, enthralling her with the story of her father’s successful working farm, and how she had learned to cook from her mother, and on holidays, she cooked for some of the farm hands as well. She even taught Narcissa how to make home-made cookies, and American biscuits (“Biscuits are bread!” Ruby argued.) All-in-all, everything seemed to be going well.

That is, until Ron decided to make a surprise visit.

~~

Hermione’s head snapped up when the knock on the door sounded. Draco grunted when her hand slipped, pressing one of his bandages harder than she should have.

“Pardon me, Granger, but would it be too much to ask you not to rip what little flesh I have off of my back?” His voice was hoarse, but healing, and she had just given him permission to start using it.

“Sorry, your Majesty,” she snapped, quite tired of his voice already. She gingerly pressed the last bit of clean bandage against him, and stood, pulling off the rubber gloves she used when she changed his bandages.

She tossed them in the garbage bin on the way out, and quickly made her way into the main room, and then to the door. She cringed when she looked through her invisible portal. Ron stood at the door, a covered plate in his hands. Mrs. Weasley must have sent some cooking.

Hermione quickly straightened her hair, and opened the door with a smile. Ron grinned back at her.

“Hey, Mione! Mum made a plate for you and your cousin, and I volunteered to bring it.” He said. He started to come in, but Hermione blocked the door.

“No!” she said, oddly forceful. Ron’s grin faded, and he cocked his head.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Um….well, this place is a mess you see…all he new things I got Ruby…haven’t had a chance to clean….you know how anal I can be…” she said, laughing nervously.

“Yeah….but I don’t mind a little mess…you know how the Burrow can get sometimes…” he said, his grin coming back.

“I know, Ron…but I don’t like having company over when the flat’s messy…” she said, trying to talk him out of coming in. The sofa Narcissa was napping on was only about fifteen feet away.

“Pardon me, Granger, but would it be too much to ask for something to do? It’s bloody boring around here…” Hermione felt her heart plummet to her stomach. Ron looked around her, and his blue eyes went wide.

Draco had managed to get himself on his feet, and was standing at the door to her spare bedroom in nothing but black cotton shorts, scratching at the bandages around his neck.

“M-Malfoy!” Ron sputtered. He shoved the plate into Hermione’s hands and pushed her gently aside, drawing his wand. Draco rolled his eyes.

“As always, Weasley, your eloquence inspires me….” Draco said, trying to hide the fear that flashed in his eyes. Draco winced when the red of a stunner flashed, but realized immediately he hadn’t been hit. Instead, Ron hit the floor with a thud, his wand skittering out of his hand. Ruby stood at the door to the kitchen, her wand pointed, her face fierce. Suddenly her expression lightened, and she looked from Draco to Hermione, who was still holding the plate of food.

“So…uh…what are we gonna do with the body?”
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Hmmm......what shall we do now? I KNOW!!!! REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The bunnies will thank you....and so will I!!!!