Evermore

VII.

As Draco's talk came to a close, Hermione felt his genuine grief at losing Luli. Yet there was a hard determination in his voice when he promised the rest of the house elves that he would not stop until the criminal was apprehended. The elves nodded vigorously, murmuring amongst themselves. They slowly dispersed when Draco stood from the chair and turned away from them. He stopped short when he saw Hermione standing there waiting for him.

"All done?" he asked.

She nodded, "We need to talk."

"Let's go to my study," Draco said, limping past her.

"Don't you want to apparate?" She knew how difficult it was for him to walk long distances. When the hooded figure walked out without a word, she shook her head and followed, dutifully keeping her silence.

Upon reaching the study, Draco went directly to his mini-bar and took a swig of Ogden's Old straight from the decanter. Hermione had to stop herself from chastising him for his carelessness.

"I poured the whisky into this myself, so I'm not being careless," he said, smirking.

She scowled at him. "I really hate it when you do that," she said.

"Then, try to think quietly, Granger," he snapped.

"And how do you propose that I do that?" she retorted.

Draco shrugged as he dropped into one of the armchairs, the half-empty decanter still in hand.

"I don't know. Maybe you should stop thinking while you're in my presence," he smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered, "Hah! As if it's that easy."

Draco chuckled and took another swig of whisky. Hermione huffed and stomped towards him, grabbing the bottle before he could take another sip.

"Hey!" he protested.

"I told you, we need to talk. And you need to be sober to do that!"

"For your information, I have a very high tolerance for alcohol, Missy. It would take more than half a bottle to get me pissed. Not that I wouldn't mind getting thoroughly pissed now," he said.

She sighed, plunking down on the seat beside him.

"It's snake venom. Someone put snake venom in your whisky," she said.

She nearly jumped when Draco abruptly burst out laughing.

"What's so funny? Some evil person just tried to kill you with snake venom and you're laughing there like it's the most amusing thing in the world! What's wrong with you?"

Draco shook his head as his laughter wound down to soft chuckles.

"Don't you get it? The Slytherin symbol is a snake, the Malfoy crest also has a snake, so I'm represented by snakes! Can't you see the irony? A snake killed by snake venom. Poetic, isn't it?"

She had to admit that she did fail to see that. Then a sudden thought hit her.

"Or...A snake being killed by another snake!"

Draco shot forward, elbows leaning on his knees as he turned to her. She could almost hear the gears in his head whirring as he digested what she had just said.

"Another Slytherin?"

"Why not? Even during the war, not all Slytherins at Hogwarts went over to our side. Perhaps there's a Slytherin out there who still bears you a grudge," she said.

Draco's hooded head snapped away, like he couldn't bear looking at her. Hermione glanced at his mask, a grim thought forming.

Could his old injuries be related to this new attempt in his life?

"Draco...I...I don't mean to pry, but..."

"You want to know about the mask and the limp. Took you that long to drum up enough curiosity, eh, Granger?" he chuckled softly.

"I've been curious from day one! I just thought that..."

"You would be prying?" he asked, glancing back at her. She nodded.

"I know you were not wounded during the war...I saw you at the Ministry..."

"During my family's trial. Yes, I saw you there, too."

Draco leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"Okay. Two years ago, there was a fire in my flat. The Muggle firemen who rescued me said that I was passed out in my bed so I didn't realize that I was being burned alive. The Muggle doctors suggested plastic surgery, but...well...you know me," he snorted, peering back at Hermione. Both of her hands were covering her mouth in apparent horror. He ignored the pity he saw in her eyes.

"I didn't trust those Muggle doctors, so after I was released from hospital, I went straight to St. Mungo's believing that the Healers would be able to fix me up with a wave of their wands. Unfortunately, they said that the fire was caused by a dark spell..."

"Fiendfyre?" Hermione interrupted. He shook his head.

"No...much darker because it left no identifiable traces. One of the Healers said that it was probably a modified version of Fiendfyre. The curious thing was that the fire was concentrated on me alone. Even my bed did not burn down. It baffled the Muggles but they dismissed it to my furniture's excellent fire-proofing!" Draco laughed bitterly.

"Perhaps you can go back to the Muggle doctors. There's been a lot of deve-"

Draco cut her off with a snort. "Three-quarters of my whole body's been burned, Granger! They'd have to peel off everything and wrap me up in a new skin for it to work! I can't even straighten my left arm or fully bend my left leg. That's why I walk with a limp!"

Hermione reached out to touch his arm. Draco shot out of the chair like he was doused with scalding water.

"Draco..."

"I don't need your pity, Mudblood!" he spat and disapparated from the room with a crack, leaving Hermione staring at the spot where he stood just a second ago.

Dammit! What have you done now, Hermione!

*********

A/N: Comments? Suggestions? Violent Reactions?