Chapter 39: Flashback 14

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August 2002

That night she and Malfoy were both subdued. He didn't flinch as she cast the cleansing charm and was quiet while she was applying the analgesic and then the salve.

"Did the Weasley girl survive?" he abruptly asked as he stood up.

Hermione stared up at him startled. She tried to guess why he was asking. Did Lucius want confirmation?

He hadn't pulled his shirt back on, and he was standing so close to her she could almost feel the heat from his body as he looked down at her. His eyes were stormy, and when she stayed silent, his expression flickered briefly.

"I'll assume she did then," he said, stepping away and putting on his shirt.

Hermione blinked. "She did. Although not for a lack of effort on your father's part," she said in a bitter tone.

Draco's expression hardened slightly.

"I'd hope you wouldn't consider me responsible for my father's actions. Surely I've committed sufficient sins on my own," he said in tight voice as he rapidly buttoned his shirt.

"I just don't know why you're asking," she said. She felt too drained to have the current conversation.

"It may surprise you, Granger, but I have no particular wish to see your friends dead."

Hermione said nothing. She had no idea what kind of response to make to the comment.

"My father—," he started and then hesitated; his face became a cold mask. "Nevermind."

Hermione slumped internally. She needed to have this conversation with him. She reached out and caught his wrist. He stilled and looked back toward her, his expression closed.

"I'm sorry. The question caught me off guard. I don't fault you for what your father does. It's just—," her voice broke off briefly and her hold on his wrist tightened. "I know you never had anything but contempt for the Weasleys—but what he's doing to them is horrific."

Malfoy was silent.

"I am sorry," he said. "I doubt you'll believe me, but I don't—there is no reasoning with his vendetta."

"You disagree with him?" Hermione asked, studying his face cautiously.

He used his other hand to take hold of hers and pulled his wrist free. "If I blamed them for my mother's death, I wouldn't have asked about the Weasley girl."

"Thank you for asking," she said, glancing awkwardly around the room. "It must be difficult for you. I know you admired your father."

Draco looked distinctly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had gone in.

"Right. Well—later, Granger," he said and apparated without another word.

Hermione stood there for several moments, reviewing the conversation before she headed back to Grimmauld Place.

When she got there, she found her room occupied by Harry and Ginny. She fidgeted in the hallway and then started up toward the uppermost floors of the house. As she passed one of the smaller rooms, she caught sight of a shock of red hair bent over a table of maps. She paused and tapped lightly on the door.

"Hey Mione," Ron said distractedly as he moved pieces across the maps and then scratched his head absentmindedly with the tip of his wand. His expression was tense.

"Got a minute?" she asked.

"Sure." He stuffed his wand into his back pocket and looked up at her. "Just reviewing what's been happening since I left. Lot of raids while we were away, you must have been busy."

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