Hermione gave him a burning, furious glance, as though contemplating torture methods before her Gryffindor conscious got the better of her, and she strode over to his side.
Hermione strode over with a sneer, worthy of a Malfoy, on her lips. As she picked up the steaming mug of soup, Draco's first reaction was to jump out of her line of fire. He still remembered that awful slap from third year. Instead, he opted to sit. After all, he was starving.
Hermione was absolutely disgusted with herself. In her seventeen years of life, she would have never guessed that one day she would be feeding Draco Malfoy.
And, of all things, Chicken Soup.
In her disgusted reverie, an amazing thought struck her, as most amazing thoughts tend to always strike.
She was a witch!
Hermione flipped out her wand and pointed it at the soup.
"You're not going to poison me are you?!" squeaked Draco.
"I wish!" Hermione sneered, then proceeded to enchant the spoon with a few well-placed moving spells to feed Malfoy, and levitate the mug towards him.
Satisfied with her work, she turned around and stalked off, but not before she heard:
"AAAAHH!"
Draco spluttered his soup out everywhere. "Bloody! YOU DIDN’T PUT A COOLING CHARM ON IT!"
Hermione snickered. With a toss of her hair, that would have made Lavender Brown proud, she simpered:
"Oh! Drakey-Poo, I thought you liked it hot!"
Malfoy scowled as the spoon kept on force feeding him edible chicken flavored magma.
Two hours later, a well-fed, and well-rested Draco Malfoy decided to test his limbs. He obviously could not let that mudblood feed him again. He shuddered convulsively at the disgusting thought. In fact, his stomach was still writhing from the fact that he had been fed food prepared by someone with filthy blood.
If my parents ever found out, Draco thought. Hot tears prickled his eyes as he swung himself over the conjured stretcher. Angry at his weakness, he swiped quickly at his eyes, and searched around for his wand trying to forget the death of his parents.
A shadow fell over him from across the parlor. Granger was standing at the foot of the steps smirking at him.
" Where's my wand?" he asked.
She glared at him.
"Are you kidding me?" she scoffed. She could have laughed. It was so ridiculous. "You're lucky you aren't tied up. You would be if it wasn't for your stupid wounds."
"I don't want to be here," he snapped stubbornly, glowering at her. "Living in this filthy hovel you call a home…Mudblood," he sneered. Well, so much for that.
She stood up straighter whilst raising her chin haughtily. "I suppose you'd rather be dead?" she huffed. "You might as well be if you don't have any useful information," she added while clutching her wand, and drawing herself up to her full height. "You don't know anything, do you?" she taunted.
"I do," he protested. "I just don't remember what it is," he added, mumbling.
"What do you remember?" she asked crossly.
"Why would I tell you?" he spat viciously.
She leaned into his face with a saccharine smile on her lips. The tip of her wand occupied the short distance separating their noses. "I can think of one very good reason why you should tell me, and it involves a lifetime supply of ferret pellets," she said sweetly.
"Ah." “I’m sure I would love to live in that bushy monstrosity you call hair, buck toothed beaver,” he scowled.
br />
Hermione glared at him as she stood up, and pointed her wand at him tauntingly. Her anger appeared to vanish as a sly smile took the place of her previous scowl.
"Tell me, ferret, why did I slap you in third year," her voice taunted.
" I called Hagrid something rude," Draco involuntarily replied with a haughty upper class tone.
He clapped his hands over his mouth as realization dawned on him.
"Veritaserum! You spiked my soup," he cried accusingly.
"Yes," Hermione chortled, "I got the idea from Harry and Ron in sixth year when they spiked [fill in here what they spiked here and for what purposes]."
Draco rolled his eyes, and slumped back on the hideous maroon, plush sofa he had moved to be more comfortable. [I thought he was on a stretcher? And unless he moved during the time period in which he and Hermione were talking, he would still be sitting in the stretcher “ so I added that line up there.]
His current situation was getting worse with every passing minute. He could not think of how it could possibly get any worse.
"Oy! Harry! Ron!"
Oh no! The mudblood is calling for back up, Draco thought.
CRACK! CRACK!
Footsteps could be heard echoing throughout the old wood house as Harry and Ron made their way to Hermione. Suddenly, two tall, lanky figures appeared in the shadows of the parlor walls.
"The ferret been acting up?" growled Ron, evilly brandishing his wand.
"No, just prepping for our interrogation. But why don’t we have some fun first? Ask him anything that you've ever wanted Malfoy to truthfully answer," Hermione methodically answered.
"Have you ever worn women's underwear?" blurted out Ron.
Draco looked incredulously at the trio. It was obvious that he was going to try to refuse to answer. Slowly, Draco began to look as if he was very constipated before he squawked: "YES!"
"I already knew the answer to that one," cried Harry rolling around on the floor laughing. "Fred and George transfigured all of the Slytherin boys' knickers when Sprout sent them to do the laundry for detention in their 3rd year."
"Any more horrifically embarrassing questions you'd like to ask before we proceed?” Hermione asked of her best friends. "Keep in mind that we can do this whenever…," she grinned evilly as she flashed a minute bottle of crystal liquid to Draco’s horrified countenance.
Meanwhile, Ron and Harry were trying to catch their breath, and clutching at the sides of the maroon sofa to hold themselves from falling on the floor.
“Ok. We should probably begin before it wears off,” a more somber Hermione stated.
Once everyone was adjusted to the renewed glum aura of the room, Hermione sat down and asked Draco: "Why are you here?"
"I'm not saying anything while they are here! Veritaserum can make me tell the truth but it doesn't make me tell everyone present," he sneered.
Hermione sighed as she turned to face Harry and Ron. "We need all the time we can. The potion won't last much longer. Anyway, it's not like I won't tell you everything that he says. Best not argue with him," she informed the boys apologetically.
After a few minutes of grumping and arguing, Hermione waved them out of the parlor and into the kitchen.
Once the boys were gone, Hermione sat down and stared at Malfoy before she prompted him: "Well, ferret, why are you here? And more importantly, how did you find us?"
Draco once more appeared as though he was trying to keep from vomiting, but then spilled out his reply in a stoic voice.
"The Dark Lord killed my mother in front of me. Then he swore to kill father, and he tortured me. I ran away when I had the opportunity and apparated while imagining Dumbledore's promise to protect me. I guess that's why I ended up here. But, I just had to get away from him. He was punishing me for not carrying out the task of killing Dumbledore. And…and for almost divulging his secrets to the old wizard."
"You mean about the Horcruxes?" Hermione asked tentatively, her voice more gentle than before.
This time Malfoy's expression did not contort with pain at the question; the potion's effects had worn off.
"Clever of you to figure that out, Granger. However, I am no longer a slave to the effects of the potion and I won't be forced to tell you anything else anymore,” he taunted. “However, I can say it freely. I want to help destroy the man who killed the only person I ever loved," Draco finished sadly.
Hermione felt a tang of guilt and realized that Malfoy was talking more to himself than her. She timidly reached out to pat him on the arm.
Malfoy was pulled out of his horrifying memories as Hermione's hand made contact with his.
"I DON'T WANT YOUR SYMPATHY!" he cried, trying to hide the unshed tears in his eyes. Hermione quickly retrieved her hand, making a mental note to never give a rat’s arse about the stuck-up pureblood.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Malfoy shifted back to the stretcher and lay down.
"I just know that to defeat him, Potter has to destroy him, and that I can help," he stated in a cool, drawled out manner.
Hermione, thinking that he was done, began to shift in her seat and make leave when Draco spoke again:
"Granger, I will avenge my mother…or die trying."
"All right, then," Hermione drawled out, "tell me, what you know."
Draco took a deep breath before continuing, " the Dark Lord always spoke of a guy named…Roderick Barrett."
Hermione gasped and screamed with joy at the revelation. At the same time, Ron and Harry came rushing their wands pointed at Draco, when they heard Hermione’s screaming. The scene before them, however, left them perplexed.
Hermione stood in the middle of the parlor, stunned and pointing a finger at Draco. Then she said three letters, before she fainted, that would change the destiny of the four adolescents in the old, abandoned parlor room at Godric's Hollow.
"R. A. B."
Let The Wind Shatter by LillysOfTheValley
Chapter Notes: S O R R Y! :( for the terrible wait...
And many many bushels full of gratitude anf Mocha Fraps for my beloved Beta: mgle_teacher/mugglemathdork! You are insane...I love you!
Would anyone like to make a banner for me?