you're my person-a draco malfoy story

8

Bree

the next day

I woke up three times in the middle of the night. The effects of whatever dark magic that Fitz had hit me with to knock me down the cellar was undoing the stitches Luna had placed. Not even Snape's antidotes were seeming to fight off infection. I was hit with waves of extreme chills then breaking out into sweat, shivering and shaking, and around every hour, I was half coughing, half throwing up blood and what little was in my system. "Draco," I spluttered weakly as he held back my hair as my chest heaved again. "Am I going to die?"

"Not if I can help it, Barnes," he sighed, rubbing his hands on my back, his fingers slipping under my shirt and trying to knead out the problems. "I won't let you die." He had taken his shirt off to be as cool as possible for me as he pulled me close, my fever combatting the contradictory chills it was sending through my system. "I think we need to take you somewhere, yeah?"

"Where?" I looked up bleakly at him, launching into another round of coughs.

"Snape thinks it's best if I take you back home to Malfoy Manor. My mother has the best medicines around." He said this quickly, as if knowing I'd object. I limply tried to protest, but he wasn't having any of it. "Just because they're Death Eaters doesn't mean they aren't good parents, Barnes. We don't have another choice." I nodded and laced my fingers through his to showed I trusted him, weakly squeezing them for added emphasis. He kissed my forehead and pulled his shirt on. "The Apparition is gonna knock you out; you're not strong enough to handle it right now, but I promise, I promise," his voice was firm, "You're safe with me."

I clung tightly to him and squeezed my eyes shut as he lifted his wand and a curtain of black fell over my vision.

__

Draco

When my feet touched the ground in the hall of Malfoy Manor, the first thing I thought of was Bree. She was unconscious, as I'd prepared her for, pale and fragile in my arms. "Mother," I called, my shoes making unnecessary amounts of noise on the tiles. "I'm back."

"Draco," my mother materialized at the top of the stairs and quickly descended at the sight of Bree. "My word, what happened to her?"

"Dark magic," I said, shaking my head as she looked up at me in confusion. "Not our kind. Some spell I've never seen before."

"Come, come," she hurried me back up the staircase and pointed to one of the many guest rooms she'd made up. "We don't have much time. Severus said she was fine last night," my mother shook her head, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face to focus on Bree. "I suppose the spell took time to work its toll."

"I hope you don't mind I'm back," I said, not taking my eyes of Bree. "I know Father wants me to stay, but I can't just leave her-"

"Actually, my boy, this is better work than you've done on that task combined so far," my father said from behind me. I whirled around, shocked at his appearance. "You're here?" I shook my head. "I don't understand..."

He dismissed my mother with a curt nod and sank into the grandfather chair next to us, watching her. "I must say, Draco, when I received the owl from Severus, I was quite concerned, but when I took your findings back to the Dark Lord, he was quite pleased with you. I have to say, it isn't everyday you can bring a daughter of the Dark Lord back to us."

"She has no need to know that," I snapped at him. "She has no idea who she is or where she's from, and I'm keeping it that way."

"Draco," my father raised his head in disapproval. "Don't be foolish. Someone needs to pay for what Andromeda and Marco did. They could've killed all of us. If only one person suffers for their crimes, it's still not enough. You should be thankful the Dark Lord didn't kill her himself when I first brought him the news."

"Father, I'm not turning her over to him," my hands clenched into fists. "Whatever business or revenge he wants carried out, I'll do it. She stays out of it."

"You already have one task, Draco," he said coolly. "And I don't see you faring too well on that. I doubt the Dark Lord will accept your proposal." He stood up and began to stalk away with his cane. "Now go back to Hogwarts. You need to focus on your studies. I'll take care of the girl."

"I'm not letting him ruin her the same way you guys ruined me," I said, and he stopped walking, but didn't turn around. "And I'm not leaving her anywhere."

"Love is weakness, Draco," his voice rose in temper. "I thought we were through with trivial matters like this."

"She barely even remembers them," I shot back. "Why is she paying for it when you could be tracking them down instead?"

"Most parents love their children so much, they'd come running back as soon as they thought they were in danger, Draco. I expect Andromeda and Marco to be no different," he rolled his eyes. 

"Would you?" I countered. He was silent for a moment, then began to cane away again.

 "Don't ask such foolish questions, boy. Begin to prepare yourself for when the Dark Lord comes. It'll be the first Summons your Mark experiences. And prepare her too. I don't care if she's sick, I don't care if she's dying, I don't care if she's as dead as roadkill when he's here. If you're going to stay in this house, you will do as I say. And you will present both of yourselves to him. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Father," I admitted defeat and sank back into the chair. My mother appeared from around the corner, with one of the house elves, Chrysanthe, trailing behind her with a silver medicine cart. "Don't listen to him," she sighed, fluffing the pillows around Bree. "I mean, listen to him, obviously, but don't take his threats too seriously. He's been in a bad mood ever since he learned Andie and Marco were still alive."

"Mom," I asked, watching as she filled up the syringe with a poultice mixture of herbs she had resting in a jar. "If they're still alive, why did they leave her with the Muggles for all these years?"

"I don't know, Draco," she shook her head. "I think we all do things sometimes that we regret."

I didn't miss the fact her eyes rested on her Dark Mark. We were both silent for a moment as she delivered the needle. 

"So," she broke the silence. "Why are you here, Draco?"

"She needs help," I sighed, smoothing the covers down of Bree's bed. "I didn't know where else to go."

"A lot of people need help," my mother gave me a knowing look. "What's different about her?"

I froze. "What the hell do you mean?"

"Easy, Draco Lucius, she chided me, trying to hide a laugh as she exchanged a look with Chrysanthe. "You just proved my point, you know."

"She's just, different....more than any other girl I've ever known. She's confident, powerful, ambitious, more than she knows. She's intelligent, funny, kind, well-read...I just feel like she's the first person in a while that understands me. That I want to understand me."

"I'm assuming you haven't told her."

"Not about me, no," I didn't meet my mother's gaze, ashamed that I chose to hide the life she was forced into. Embarrassed that I had the choice, and she didn't. "You could jeopardize us, you know." She was cold again, and I silently cursed myself for ruining the fleeting warm moments I had with my mother. "I know. I'll tell her when she's better." Bree rustled the covers, and my mother knelt beside her to feel her forehead. "Her fever's broken already," she said, a hint of pride detected in her voice. Like her or hate her, Death Eaters and Order members alike knew my mother was the most talented in her craft.  She always had been, which was part of why my father had sought after her so much. She was a calculation, a peg in Voldemort's plan, a chess piece rather than a person. A benefit, an asset, not a member. She had always been the outer of the inner circle, the one my father silenced and the rest ignored because she wasn't a pureblood like the rest of them. I only realized now how alike we were. Fighting the unfightable.