Never in a Million Years {Dramione}

13: Malfoy Manor

"This can't be happening!" Draco dug his hands deep within his hair and paced around Hermione's room.

His father escaped from Azkaban. He was out there, and just when Draco thought he finally found 'the one', he had taken her away from him! He just wanted to scream, and pretend he and Hermione were average wizard folk, living in a homely cottage with a family of their own. He wished he was born with different parents, a different surname, and he imagined exactly what that would be like. Draco would've been fine if he never got introduced to the deatheaters, or if his mother had married another man. He could've been a Gryffindor, no, even a brilliant Ravenclaw, however he didn't really see himself as a Hufflepuff. He wished he did though. Draco Malfoy would've never been made the person he was if his mother wasn't in Holland at the 1963 Quidditch World Cup, the place where she and his father had met.

He thought about this from time to time, but every day it just made him go crazy with longing. He was Draco Lucius Malfoy, Slytherin, son of Lucius and Narissa Malfoy, a deatheater. Nothing, not even Hermione Granger, could change his identity.

He could however, change his fate.

"I need to get Hermione!" He said aloud. It suddenly dawned on him what was actually happening. His beautiful gryffindor princess, for all he knew, was getting tortured in the depths of the cold, harsh Malfoy Manor. And it was all his fault.

He didn't need to think tactically or sensibly, all he wanted to do was get Hermione and go. He knew they'd be a fight with his father, there just had to be, so he decided; he better get going soon.

He hastily shoved on a green tank top and black jeans, and packed a rucksack full of necessities.

An apple, Dittany (to help with major wounds), a blanket for Hermione (if she was cold), a mild and temporary healing potion, bandages (to stop wounds bleeding if necessary), his wand, a bottle of water, various foods, and a couple of other items.

"I'm ready!" Draco exclaimed to himself. He didn't even care about waiting for Bill Weasley's reply letter or Manny to get back. He wanted Hermione, and Hermione only.

He went outside into the windy, grey skies and took a deep breath. However it suddenly dawned on him. It was too dangerous for him to apparate!

He felt like it was over. Like he'd lost. But there was still a ray of hope. And that ray of hope was Hermione Granger... Draco cared for her. And he was going to save her, no matter what.

"Now or never" he breathed, and focused on his room in Malfoy Manor.

Immediately, his whole world faded into darkness and his body squashed into a unnatural shape.

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Draco landed with a loud thud on the icy Malfoy Manor floor of his room. He suddenly realised that; Malfoy Manor. Perhaps the first place the dementors would come looking for his father. He didn't have must time to dwell on that because he felt an excruciating pain in his ear.

Splinched.

"No no no!" Draco whimpered in pain, lifting his shaky hand to his left ear.

All he felt was a stumpy, soggy skin flap that was moist and warm with blood. He pulled his hand back, it soaked with the crimson liquid running through his veins.

I must be brave, I must be brave. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the terrible pain the side of his head. He also attempted to be as quiet as possible, because for all he knew his father was already racing up the stairs to kill him.