Sins of the Father

AUTHOR'S NOTE: At long last!! See bottom!


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Draco watched as Hermione tired desperately to not look at him. She was looking straight ahead calmly, so in clam in fact that anyone looking in on them wouldn’t know how nervous she really was. Draco knew though. She chewed at her bottom lip, sucking in the skin between her teeth. She was also nervously fidgeting with her hands. Even though the movements of her fingers were slow, she was still moving them. The rest of her body was still, not even her legs bouncing in the slightest. He sighed, knowing now that she intended to do this the hard way.

“You mean, I’m not Lucius?”

“Well, it’s not like you would be, right?” Hermione pressed on, talking in a rush as if he wasn’t even there. “I mean, all the Weasley’s look alike and they all have distinct personalities, even the twins. So just because you take after your dad why would you be just like him? This is just something I need to get over somehow, right?” Hermione had definitely forgotten his presence by now, rambling on as she retreated into her own world. “You need to just – do this,” she turned to Draco to talk to him but the look on his face stopped her.

He was sitting there, just staring at her, his lips slightly parted and his brow creased. She frowned, lowering her eyes.

“I rambled, huh?”

The corner of Draco’s mouth quirked up. “A little.” Hermione looked at him in time to see his grin and gave him one of her own. He sobered back up though, giving a slight couch as he did. “But it’s good for you to talk about it.” She sucked her lip in between her teeth again, looking at him with wide eyes that held unshed tears. Her hands flattened out against her thighs and she sighed, moving her head down so her hair hung in her face.

“It hurts.” Draco leaned up in the bed, forcing himself into a sitting position. He winced at the physical pain he felt as he sat up to brush her hair out of her face, knowing that the pain she was experiencing was much worse.

“What hurts?” He asked, wanting her to continue talking. She looked at him, imploring him with her eyes to allow her to stop talking about it but the open invitation on his face was too much for her as she felt herself giving in.

“It hurts to talk about what your . . . what they did to me.”

“I know. It hurts having to hear about it.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and then she closed them in anger. “They’ve told you about . . . it?”
Draco nodded, reaching out to brush his hand up and down her cheek. “My . . . father particularly. Lucius always was one to brag, that psychotic pervert. I don’t know how mother manages him.” Hermione winced, the idea that Draco had no clue just how twisted his mother was being confirmed for her.

“You don’t consider him your father, do you?”

“Would you consider a dog your father?” He didn’t exactly shrug; it was more like he lazily raised one shoulder. “I know he’s my father. I’m sure he’d accuse my mother of adultery if it weren’t for the already established fact that I look remarkably like him. So I can’t deny that I am his son. “He stopped and ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he went. “But I can deny that I am anything like him; that we share the same personalities and interests as much as we share the same physical features. I know I have done things in the past that are unforgiveable: to you, your friends, the other muggle-borns at Hogwarts. But I want to make things right, or at least try too.”

Hermione listened, her heart lighting up with his words. She was beginning to feel something warm spread through her chest as she listened to him, looking over her hands in her lap. The skin there was soft and devoid of any scarring. There were no scars on any parts of her body, despite the torture she had gone through. She knew the real scars were inside her and that she had to confront them sometime.

“So you know what . . . Lucius did then?” She looked back at him, her tears wanting to spill over. A prickling had started at the back of her throat, meaning she was about to cry soon. His gray eyes bore into hers and there was a smoldering anger there that, even though it was not directed at her, frightened her.

“I usually only heard about it in passing, however my father did ask if I wanted to join.” Shock and disgust flooded her system at his admission, even though she probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Lucius Malfoy was exactly what his son had called him, a psychotic pervert who probably thought it made sense to make his only son rape his former classmate while he participated himself.
“But you didn’t . .,” she managed to get out through a dry throat.

“But I didn’t. I couldn’t. You may have thoroughly annoyed the piss out of me at school but I knew what Lucius and his friends got up to with the prisoners. I couldn’t do that you or anyone,” he cupped her chin and smiled. “But especially not to you.”

“So then,” she began and he could tell she was still trying to process everything. “You know he – I – he,”

“Raped you?” She just looked at him and he sighed. “Yeah, that would be his specialty, that fucked up asshole. He got quite the reputation when it comes to how he is in bed, so the Dark Lord though it’d be a grand idea to see what it’s like when it’s not. Let’s just say the Dark Lord was pleased and dear old dad got to continue with it.”

“You mean he watched?” Her voice came out in a whisper, tears falling down her cheeks now. Something in the way she said it made it seem like she believed that Voldemort watched Lucius rape her, when in fact he had ‘tested’ out Lucius before she was even born.

“Well, he wasn’t under an Invisibility Cloak or Disillusionment Charm. He makes all the Death Eaters make Pensieves of their tortures so he can review the action. It ensures that in case the prisoner says something important, the Dark Lord will know. He also uses Legilimens on his followers to find out.” He looked at her wide eyed face, noticing that her skin had paled dramatically. “Don’t worry; he stopped testing the Death Eaters years ago.”

“But he still saw what happened.” Her shoulders were shaking now as she cried openly, her hands gripping her pants. Draco didn’t know what to do. He had never exactly been shown love and so he didn’t know how to comfort someone when they needed it. He looked at the way she sat there, hunched with tears rolling down her cheeks, and wished that the girl he had taunted at Hogwarts would come back. He never thought he would find himself longing for the bossy, bitchy, fiery know-it-all that he had once known but he was.

He sighed, moving over on the bed to envelope her in a tight hug. She accepted it, collapsing in his arms as he held her. She rested her head against his chest, her tears wetting his shirt. Her body shook against his as he allowed her to let everything she had bottled up gush out of her. He ran one hand through her hair while he drew circles down her spine, attempting to calm and soothe her.

“That may be, Hermione, but you are better then they will ever be,” Draco wasn’t sure where his words were coming from, but they seemed to continue to spill from his mouth before he could stop them. “You are the most intelligent woman I have ever met. Your compassion is quite boundless and you manage to cheer up those around you, regardless of the situation. The Death Eaters want to make you forget that, to steal that away from you. Don’t let them win, Hermione; you’re better then that,” he whispered against her hair, breathing in the faint smell of warm brown sugar and figs.

He didn’t know how long Hermione lay in his arms like that but her sobs were beginning to slow down, her tears falling down at a much slower pace. She had stopped shaking as well, a warm feeling overcoming Draco at the idea that she was feeling better.

Just then, a soft knocking on the door interrupted them. Hermione jumped away from Draco, looking guilty for some unknown reason and trying to wipe away her tears. She wrapped her arms around herself and drew in a shaky breath, refusing to meet Draco’s eyes.

“What?” Draco yelled, angry that someone had interrupted their moment.

“May I come in?” Draco groaned, rolling his eyes at the voice of Harry Potter. He always seemed to ruin everything.

“I gue-,” Draco never finished as the door was already opening, Harry stepping inside. The first thing he saw was that Hermione looked like she had been crying. His eyes narrowed and his face darkened in anger as he clenched his fists. He moved halfway to where she was sitting and tried to catch her eye. When that failed, he turned to Draco, practically growling at him.

“What the hell did you do to her?”

Draco had enough self preservation to look offended. “What did I do to her? Maybe you should ask what you did to her.”

Harry scoffed at Draco and rolled his eyes. “Please, like I would fall for that. I have never done anything to hurt Hermione. I love her like a sister and would do anything for her.”

“Well maybe that’s just it, you haven’t done enough. You’ve been to busy wondering about what you should have done.”

“Well at least I’m not some coward that tries to kill old men!”

“HARRY!” Hermione screamed at him, her face widening in shock. “How dare you? I would have thought that with all Draco’s done for us, risking his life as a spy, that you could at least be thankful towards him, especially considering that he’s probably saved your ass on a few raids.” Hermione quickly stood up and walked over to him. “I think we’ve all gone through a lot here, Draco included. Every time he goes home he has to worry about his covering being blown and being killed by Voldemort. Not only that, but he has to worry about his father possibly finding out as well and what Lucius would do to him.”

No one said anything, Hermione’s eyes still blazing in anger as she stared at Harry. He looked from her to Draco and then back, eventually sighing in defeat.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Malfoy,” he practically whispered the last part, but it was loud enough for them to hear.

Draco gasped, holding his hand over his heart. “Dear Merlin, did I hear that correctly? Did Saint Potter actually admit his faults for once?”

Before Harry could say anything, Hermione whipped around, her hair hitting Harry in the face. “And as for you, Draco, you need to start showing everyone around here some respect. They are literally trusting you with their lives and, even though they don’t even like you, they are willing to offer you a place to stay when you get beaten up by those arseholes you live with. So if you wouldn’t mind showing them some respect,” she turned back towards Harry. “And if you wouldn’t mind letting go of schoolyard rivalries, we would actually be able to get something done around here.” And with that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Silence found the two men staring at the door until slowly Harry revolved around to Draco.

“I don’t have to like you.”

“And I wouldn’t expect you too,” Draco sneered at him.

Sighing, Harry went and picked up the chair Hermione had been sitting in and moved it to the other side of the room. “I’m taking over for Hermione. “

“Figured that.”

The boys feel into silence again as the minutes ticked by until another Order member came to relieve Harry. It was going to be a very long night for Draco.


A/N: Sorry about the wait!! I was in Chicago and then when I came home I was so busy and I wanted to give you guys a really good chapter. A lot going on in this one, huh? I really hope you enjoyed it, as I worked really hard on it. Just so you know, things aren't going to stay all nice and pretty for long. I believe a certain Slytherin will be making his return soon. So watch out.