The Abyss

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September 26th 1997

They landed painfully back in the corporeal world after the disapparation. Draco was knee-deep in cold water, he recognised his surroundings immediately, having taken them to a beach his uncle Morpheus used to frequent with him and his cousin Julian. Being Malfoy blood, he was one of the select few who could apparate in and out of the Manor's defensive spells. He managed to keep his balance when they landed, and as the dizzying effects wore, he spun around to see the other three sprawled across the shore.

It was late at night, the air fresh and cool while the sky was an amaranthine abyss of blackness. Harper was crouched over in the sand, holding her scar again and bleating in pain. The Weasel ignored her, splashing through the ebbing water to help Granger stand. The water pulled itself from around him, waning away from his knees before a large wave bowled him over. It was strong enough to push him onto his hands and knees, accidentally filling his mouth with salt water.

"Harper," he coughed out the water and moved towards her.

Weasley was quick to get in his way, falling into a space between them. "You stay away from her," he warned.

"Ron, it's alright, he's alright," Granger said as she slowly waded her own way out of the water.

"You're all alive thanks to me," he sneered, pushing the ginger aside, but he grabbed his wet arm.

"But not thanks to your family," he retaliated, proving to be far stronger than Draco anticipated, "you have no right-"

"Get the fuck out of my way, Weasley!" He yelled, pushing him off. "You have no idea-"

"Ron!" Granger shouted. "The sword! Get the sword, and my bag, they're in the sea!"

He obeyed the weak muggle-born, but not without giving Draco one big shove first. Draco fell back into the sodden sand, then spat at Weasley's retreating form as it went after their belongings in the water. Granger had finally crawled to the dry land, shivering and eerily pale, ashen like a porcelain doll. He went straight for Harper who was gritting her teeth and rooted in agony.

"What's wrong, Potter?" He asked, a completely different tone than what he used towards the others. He put a hand on her back, trying to rub soothingly, but she didn't respond, just continued to squeeze her eyes shut and moan. He went to pull her wet hair out of her face, but his mind couldn't make sense of seeing her in this state, so he hesitated.

"She's having a vision," Granger explained. "There's nothing you can do."

"Vision?"

"You-Know-Who, he keeps letting her into his mind. Like in Fifth Year, she can see what he's doing. She... hasn't been able to control them lately."

Draco frowned. He couldn't stand watching her suffer any longer, but at least he could hold her now. He lifted her out of the shallow water, she was so light, the weight loss was uncanny. Just as he settled her down softly on the sand, Weasley came ambling out of the water, an array of possessions in his arms.

"Oi!" He shouted as if Draco was a dog. "Get away from her, Malfoy!"

He released an enraged snarl, this guy was going to be a massive pain in his arse. "Leave me the fuck alone, Weasley. I'm not going to hurt her."

"Mind your fucking mouth," he retorted, dropping everything by them. "And why should I believe anything you say. Your psycho aunt just tortured her and Hermione!"

Draco stood then, eye to eye with the Weasel. "Yes and if it weren't for me, you would still be locked in the cellar."

"If it weren't for you, Dumbledore could still be alive," he said.

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