Fallen Dynasty (Dramione)

Twenty - The Recollections of the Beginnings (Flashback Two)

Avoir elle est avoir les etoiles.

To have her is to have the stars.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Hermione remembers all those years ago the first time Dumbledore walked into Grimmauld Place with a sullen, terrifyingly skinny Draco Malfoy who looked like he would bolt any second. He was sunken into himself and skittish, eyes darting around the room as it had fallen silent due to his untimely and unexpected presence.

Moments before, there was a melancholy rumbling of voices throughout the living areas of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Since there was no owl post, the news report had just been echoed throughout the halls by Hagrid since he sat closest to the floo, the letter ejected from the viridescent flames.

Voldemort's ranks were rising and fast.

Morale was dropping quickly, so they switched on the cracking sounds of the Wizarding Wireless, the noise of a past quidditch game of the Ballycastle Bats versus the Holyhead Harpies filling their ears.

The cheers of bystanders witnessing Gwenog Jones in action had halted as the door burst open with the unlikely pair.

Hermione was sat at the top of the stairs, now gazing down at Draco from between the balusters, knuckles white as she clenched the wooden railings in shock.

The last time she saw him was when his psychopathic aunt was carving words of venom and hate into her arm and he stood nearby, nearly hyperventilating.

He never left though. She remembered that through the haze of pain and blacking out. He never left the room.

He stayed so she wasn't alone — He had told her so many months later, quietly and under his breath like he couldn't even bare to speak about the dreadful day.

That was the first time she felt any sympathy or kindness from Draco Malfoy.

Their eyes met momentarily and a brief glance was enough for Hermione to interpret the pure terror that was now ripping through the blonde boy with bloodshot eyes and trembling hands once again.

Sure, he looked awful most of their sixth year, but Merlin, he looked like hell — and that was putting it lightly.

The life was siphoned out of him.

He was a shell of who he once was.

Now, it was her time for sympathy.

She was standing suddenly, eyes wide as he was now trying to look anywhere but her direction.

"Draco."

The words ripped through her without warning.

She couldn't help but say it out loud, breaking the silence, her mind trying desperately to understand and grasp what was happening and why.

Their eyes met again, his were now screaming shut up and hers were meticulously trying to figure him out. She could tell he desperately didn't want her to even try.

Their eye contact was broken by Harry and Ron pushing past her, nearly tumbling down the stairs as they sprinted down them after hearing the apparition crack outside moments ago.