Insight

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The sight of Weasley lying face down in the gravel did not inspire a single drop of pity or remorse in Draco. Hermione was talented with Obliviation. When he eventually woke, Weasley's memory would be intact enough to allow him to use his wand and apparate...er, probably. Draco didn't
really give a shit.
He'd caught Hermione just after her knees had given out, stopping her from faceplanting hard onto the ground. Lifting her limp body into his arms, he finally left for home.
Apparating nearly took him out. Black spots swam in his vision as he hauled her inside, carefully depositing her on the sofa before collapsing onto the floor. Draco was too drained to laugh about the fact that his earlier plan to stun and kidnap her had panned out after all, without any effort on his part.
With her wand, he liberally employed magical means to get them ready for bed. He summoned a rejuvenating elixir from his office, downing it all in one gulp and shaking his head to clear the haze
of exhaustion. It wouldn't help him for much more than an hour. but that was all he needed
Only sixteen minutes later, Draco exited the shower and climbed straight into bed next to Hermione, not bothering to towel off or dress. Scourgify would have to do for her until she woke, but Draco hadn't been able to stand the thought of going to sleep without a proper wash.
Their iron shackles remained in the sitting room, cast haphazardly onto the floor after Draco had removed them. He'd placed another bottle of rejuvenation elixir on the nightstand closest to Hermione, ready for her when she woke up. Next to it sat her wand, freshly cleaned of blood.
Pulling her close under the covers, Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know what would happen when she woke. Didn't know if she would push him away with fear and disgust, or curl into him and cry. Most likely, she would be distant, retreating into the recesses of her mind the way she had done after altering Selwyn's memory. It didn't matter to him; he would be there for her,
ready with a cup of tea.
Draco's hands threaded through her tangled hair and around her waist, holding her close. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he allowed his eyes to close.
She might hate him. Might think him a murderer or a hero. Might never want to see him again. He was prepared for anything, for all of the above.
So he held her tightly, fighting sleep just a bit longer, suspending this moment. Pretending it wasn't rare or precious. Imagining that this bright, frosty morning was really nighttime and, like any other night, she had simply fallen asleep in his arms. Perhaps she would wake him in the morning with a kiss. Perhaps she would smile and snuggle closer and call herself his
It was a lovely, stupid dream.
Much better than the heartbreak he knew was heading his way.
"I love you," he whispered, and joined her in oblivion.

***
Two Days Later

DRACO MALFOY: MONSTER OR MISUNDERSTOOD?
By Malphias Erge, Daily Prophet Reporter
Draco Malfoy, who stood trial for the murder of Healer Robert Selwyn yesterday morning, has
officially been sentenced to a mere six months of probation. with no prison time required.
This shockingly light sentence has the wizarding community baffled as, per the orders of Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, the young Mr. Malfoy's hearing was expedited and closed to the public, both of which are highly unusual occurrences. The details of what exactly happened the day Healer
Selwyn turned up dead in the Forest of Anobeith have since spiraled into increasingly disturbing rumors.
No one seems to know exactly who was present during this altercation or what precisely transpired.
Many people believe that Draco Malfoy's legal team is responsible for the dropping of his charges.
While we don't know the details of their argument, it's likely that Malfoy hired the best
representatves money can ouy.
Others have speculated on the presence of the witness who allegedly attended the trial, Ginny Potter (pictured on the left leaving the courtroom Wednesday afternoon). Mrs. Potter, wife of the legendary wizarding hero Harry Potter, declined our request for an interview, instead providing the following statement:
"Draco Malfoy's actions were those of a hero. He deserves an Order of Merlin, not probation
Harry and I both offer him our deepest gratitude.
Her statement comes as a shock to many as. only one day before the alleged murder occurred.
Her statement comes as a shock to many as, only one day before the alleged murder occurred popular radio show The Shocking Truth hosted Mr. Malfoy's house-elf, who gave the world a very different characterization of the man in guestion. Malfoy was accused. by his own emplovee. of illegal potion brewing and blackmail. Even more interestingly, the target of said blackmail was Ronald Weasley, Ginny Potter's own brother.
Unfortunately, we regret to inform our readers that Mr. Weasley is currently unavailable for comment. Why, you may wonder? In an unexpected turn of events, Mr. Weasley seems to be in St.
Mungo's Hospital recovering from an injury-which occurred the very same night in question.
Many have speculated that Malfoy had something to do with Weasley's injury in addition to Selwyn's death, but no sources have yet been able to confirm
"Draco? You can come in now."
Draco looked up from the paper to find Healer Connelly standing in the doorway of her office, her
expression mild and reserved as she gestured for him to follow.
Stuffing the paper into the inner pocket of his robes, Draco stood and made his way into his mind healer's office, feeling more nervous with every step. He took his usual seat on the sofa across from her chair, rubbing his palms against the fabric of his trousers.
"So, tell me. What's happened?" she asked.
Antithetically, the question caused Draco's mind to wipe clean. About a thousand things had been hammering at his brain only two minutes ago, but something about the quiet, clean interior of
Healer Connelly's office and the calmly expectant expression on her face had vanished his every
thougnt.
Dumbly, Draco stared at her soft smile. Words escaped him.
He fiddled with his wand as he thought about how to start, tapping it on his knee in a quick, agitated rhythm.
He'd gotten it back from Potter yesterday. The results of his hearing were, in Draco's opinion, entirely due to Ginny's testament. He had been feeling extremely nervous as a dozen berobed
witches and wizards wearing severe expressions had stared down at him from the stand, but then Ginny "He's A Bloody Hero, You Wiggy Wankers" Potter had marched in and vouched for his innocence with such fervor, her bright red hair began to look like literal fire. She'd explained everything, happily throwing her own brother under the bus as she did. Owing to the fact that Selwyn had been involved in highly illegal operations and had been actively threatening Hermione's life at the time of his death, Ginny's point about Draco's heroics seemed to go over well enough. By the time she'd finished speaking, the Wizengamot representatives looked rather relieved to clear Draco's charges, just to be rid of her. Six months' probation was about as good as he could have hoped.
Healer Connelly waited patiently for him to start speaking.
He swallowed. Blinked. Forgot why he'd come.
Healer Connelly pressed her lips together. "Was there a particular reason you booked this emergency session, Draco?" she prompted gently.
Truthfully, this session hadn't been his idea. Ignoma had made the call after seeing his expression when he'd come home from the Ministry to his Hermione-less flat. She was worried he would drink, оr worse.
She wasn't wrong to worry.
"Right. Yes," Draco said firmly. After another short pause, he admitted, "I don't really know
where to start."
Healer Connelly leaned back in her seat, settling in with a sort of peace and assurance Draco was sure he'd never experienced in his life.
"Well, you booked a double session," she said. "We've got plenty of time. Why don't you start at the beginning?"
Exhaling forcefully, Draco did exactly that.
Healer Connelly hadn't seen him since before Ignoma had gone missing, so he started there. She listened attentively as he explained how Hermione had been captured by Umbridge's people and what he had done to get her and Ignoma back, occasionally asking questions in that clear, nonjudgmental way of hers. He laid out the details of the Dementor chase and the way he'd woken to find Hermione leaning over him, a dragon Patronus flying above them. Healer Connelly's face stayed carefully free of expression when he told her what he'd done to Selwyn, though he thought he might have imagined a flicker of fear in her eyes as he explained, with all the callous apathy of a cold-blooded murderer, exactly how he'd done it.
All the same, it was cathartic to talk about it. Draco actually felt some of the tension seeping out of his shoulders as he went on.
He was relieved, truly. Even if Hermione never saw him the same, and even if he had to live with Selwyn's blood on his hands. The world was better without someone like Selwyn in it.
By the time he finished relaying what Hermione had done to Weasley and how his hearing had
gone, Draco had blown through quite a bit of his appointment time
"That's it, I suppose," Draco said, heaving out a huge breath. "Umbridge is back in Azkaban, no
possibility of release this time. Johanna is...actually. I'm not sure, but I assume Potter' s got her heading to Azkaban as well. Weasley's in hospital; Ginny says he'll be fine, but I still haven't been told exactly what Hermione did to his memory yet. Ignoma is safe and sound at home, spending every second of her time with Tillo. And I'm...er, fine. I suppose." The obvious lie sounded pathetic even to his own ears. Healer Connelly's knowing gaze didn't waver.
"And Hermione? Is she alright?" Healer Connelly asked.
Draco knew she had to ask, but he still wasn't ready for the question.
After he'd brought Hermione home. Draco had woken later that evening to empty arms and a note on the pillow next to him, informing him that shed gone home and needed time to think. All her things were missing.
He'd known it was coming. Still, it was a kick to the gut.
For a moment, he'd considered showing up at her front door, but what would he even say to her?
"Sorry" was out of the question--he wasn't. And "Don't beat yourself up, Weasley deserved it" seemed in poor taste. And "I'd slaughter a thousand men with my bare hands if it meant keeping you safe" sounded rather overzealous, however true it was. Besides, she had asked for time to think.
Draco just wished she had bothered to tell him exactly how much time that might be.
"She went home." Draco finally answered.
Healer Connelly gave him a knowing look. When she took off her glasses and scooted forward in her chair to face him better, Draco sensed he was about to get what he was paying for, which also happened to be the feature of these sessions he dreaded the most: her insight.
"That's a lot of life to experience in such a short time," Healer Connelly said. "It would only be natural to have mixed feelings about it."
"I don't. Not really," Draco said bluntly. "I don't regret it at all. In fact, I wish I'd killed him slower-"
"That's not what I meant."
Draco blinked. Healer Connelly had never interrupted him before. Her face was grave, focused intently on him.
"I meant Hermione. It would only be natural for Hermione to have mixed feelings after what happened," she said.
Draco deflated a bit.
"Of course," he told his hands. "I just...I'd hoped she would let me be there for her. But I suppose I didn't really expect it. I committed murder right in front of her. She's probably terrified of me
Ow.
Healer Connelly looked pensive, and almost skeptical. This was the most transparent the woman had ever been during one of their sessions. Oddly. it was even more unnerving than her smooth
facade ot polite concern.
"You said you don't know exactly what Hermione did while she was Obliviating Mr. Weasley?"
Healer Connelly asked.
Draco nodded, not sure where she was going with this question.
"Draco, you're an experienced Legilimens, correct?" she asked.
Perplexed, Draco nodded again. "Somewhat," he said.
Healer Connelly raised her eyebrows, as if to signal that he was missing something. With a short sigh, she leaned back in her seat, folding her hands in her lap.

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