Angel on the cover

“He was a loner, not by choice you understand. He just had a horrible personality,” Lisette answered the reporter.



“He’s really a nice person deep down; he’s just not sure how to relate to other people.” Mary Anne’s expression was sweet as she defended her missing co-worker. “I hope he’s alright. He’s a really strong person. He was always smiling,” she said, outshining his smirks with a toothy flash of her own.



“Bloody Hufflepuff,” Draco smiled briefly. Trust Mary Anne to defend him and Lisette to take the opportunity to bad mouth him.



He lowered the volume on the television with the remote that had been left within his reach, leaning back against the soft pillows behind him.



With the telly’s sound muted, he could hear whispers from the kitchen, the haven the couple had sought once the initial broadcast had been made. If he listened hard enough, he could just make out their conversation.



* * *

Hermione was wringing out the wet towel and watching the remaining ice cubes melt under the running water. Ron stood behind her, pleading to let Draco leave.



“Hermione, I don’t want to go to jail!”



“No one is going to prison, Ron.”



“Last I heard, kidnapping is illegal by wizards and Muggles!”



“Then we’ll go to jail, Ronald.”



“What?” her husband’s eyes bugged out of his face.



“I can’t let him be by himself through all of this, now can I?. He gave up everything during the war, tried to make up for the generations of hatred his family sprouted against people like me, and then we never really gave him a chance!”



“What were we supposed to do. Hermione? Trust him unconditionally? There were plenty of Slytherins that wanted to kill off all muggleborns. How were we supposed to know he was being honest?”



“Because Harry believed in him, Ron. Draco’s going to have a baby and he or she will grow up in a world that still cannot admit he worked to save it. They will probably credit his deeds and contributions as an unknown wizard for the light.” She finished will a voice full of sadness, “He doesn’t deserve that, Ron.”



* * * *



Draco didn’t hear anymore beyond the hushed reassurances that Ron murmured to his wife. Soon after they exited the kitchen together, Granger approached him.



“You must be hungry. Was there anything in particular you wanted?” she asked him gently.



“Real smart, Granger.”



‘What?” she asked, not understanding the look of disgust on his face.



“As if you don’t realise the walls are paper thin and sound travels in this hovel?” He turned to face her. “Acting like a concerned friend? Getting a hurting little snake to seek you out for warmth?”



“I didn’t have that intention,” she protested. “I just wanted to help you!”



“Taking me against my will and incarcerating me was your best idea? That’s your main problem, Granger: you love for everyone to seek your guidance because you think you know it all. But that’s all you’ve ever been! A nosy now-it-all who doesn’t know when she’s not needed!”



He could see tears gather in her soft brown eyes and felt guilty, but said nothing as she quietly left towards the bedroom.



He sat back against the chair, waiting for Weasley to approach him with recriminations about making his wife cry. He was surprised when all he did was sit on the couch nearest him.



“The kidnapping was my idea,” the Gryffindor began.



“Of course it was. Granger has more sense than that,” Draco sighed.



“Hey! She went along with it,” Ron argued.



Draco lifted an eyebrow. “She probably gave in after she realised there was no other way she was getting me here.” He smiled slightly in satisfaction when Ron flushed straight to his neck.



“I’m sorry.”



“What?” Draco asked. “That almost sounded like an apology, Weasel, but, alas, I’ve already accepted the fact that people like you have to exist. It’s to make people appreciate the perfection that I offer, so I forgive you for existing. It’s a necessary evil.”



He didn’t react to the insult as Draco thought he would, but muttered again.



“You did good.”



Draco’s eyes widened a little bit.



“We couldn’t have done it with out your help— and I’m sorry the Ministry is full of wankers that want to screw you over after all you did.” Ron wasn’t looking at him; he was staring distantly at a knot in the hardwood floor.



Draco was speechless. If Ron had insulted him, he could have fallen back into their routine, but the redhead’s words left him shocked.



“Thank you for helping Harry” Ron said softly but firmly with a voice that sounded suspiciously hoarse.

Ron finally looked Draco in the eye. “You saved him when we couldn’t.”



The sound of alarms going off broke their gaze.



“That’s the wards. Someone’s coming!” Ron got to his feet and stood in front of Draco, searching for his wand while Hermione came running out of the bedroom.



The distinctive “pop” of Apparation was barely audible under the shrill alarms.



There stood Harry, dressed in a worn looking coat and Muggle jeans.



“Ron!” he said. “Draco’s missing! You have to help me find him, please!”



Ron’s mouth was agape. He moved to the side, revealing the hidden captive.



“Draco!” Harry’s head jerked from Ron to Hermione. “What the bloody hell are you guys doing?”



He hurried to Draco’s side, drinking in the sight of the face that haunted his dreams.



“Are you okay? What were you guys thinking? Did they hurt you? Here, I’ll get you out of this.”



Harry went to manually untie Draco’s restraints, but Draco leaned his body as far right as he could, avoiding Harry’s touch



“Just do your thing,” he said quietly.



Harry moved away from him, waving his trembling hand over Draco. The restraints dropped to the floor.



Getting to his feet, Draco refused to look at the brunet.



“Draco?”



His name uttered in that pitiful voice was something he never thought he’d hear again. How dare he? The injured party was himself, not the wandering Boy-Who-Lived. The one left behind to deal with his crumbling life was him!



He could feel a pressure building in his chest, anger and anguish rolling into one reaction so tightly which didn’t know which emotion was strongest. However, he could feel the result of the battle overturning his stomach.



He threw up.



All over Potter’s shoes.



Harry stood shocked for a moment, surprised by the action. At Ron’s disgusted exclamation he sprung into action, waving away the mess and leaning forward to make sure Draco was alright.



“Draco? Are you OK? Do you need me to call a mediwitch? Take you to St. Mungo’s ?” he ran his wand over the other man’s body trying to see if any superficial trauma could be found. “’Mione, please get me a cold compress from the kitchen. He doesn’t have a fever but maybe—”



“Don’t touch me,” Draco stated stoically when Harry laid a hand on his forehead.



“But love—”



Draco couldn’t believe that he would use that term of endearment; his eyes widened andglistened with unshed tears. Hermione could see them from where she stood and hurried over to help him.



“C’mon, Draco. I’ll show you to the bathroom.”



Draco didn’t take her offered hand, but followed as she moved down a hallway he hadn’t noticed before.



Harry watched Draco leave, barely noticing Ron pulling him onto the couch with him.