Storm Grey

7

A/N: Song- press song! If you want. Song!; Yes, I put Dramione. Don't worry.
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*Warning*
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There will be somewhat clear depictions of Voldy being a good guy, lol 😂
and Draco being an arrogant lil' dork before softening up
Enjoy, y'all :)

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The only thing that was on anyone's mind in Riddle Manor was what they heard about the Dark Lord's daughter. The sisters by the poor girl's side were helping only her bones heal on her right arm.
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It was for the best, as they figured it would only cause her to fear the worst if they attempted to recover everything to the way it should be.
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Two things were obvious by the sight of her. Her head was sweating, and she's in no condition to get up from the bed, despite the years of managing to handle pain and walk around Hogwarts to attend classes. No, she would stay put until she was completely fine.
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Though her forehead was filled with moisture from heat, the rest of her body was very much cold. Christmas was only a couple of days away, so it would mean she would get a break from the pain.
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Of course, it also meant she would have to be around Draco Malfoy, the jerk who told her to die just a year ago. Secretly, she wished she listened.
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A whole week without being in classes and she was on the verge of breaking. She wanted to learn how to perform every last spell and how to make a potion to make people feel better.
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It was a shame the brightest one of the whole school, the one with the most potential, was stuck in bed.
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Worse, though, was the reason she was to stay put. Abuse from her only guardian to ever be in charge of her.
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"Hermione," she heard a gentle voice say.
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Slowly, her eyes opened to see her father. "I have some dinner for you. I made it myself, no house-elf required" he said, making her realize he was holding a tray with food. She could already smell how good it was.
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Using arms to support her, she sat up. It hurt a bit in the process but it didn't matter to her. She's dealt with worse before. But as her father kept insisting, no one deserved to be treated such a way, not even a muggle.
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It sort of shocked her to hear him say such a thing, so she assured him she understood. She still didn't fully accept she was cared for by him, but knew he very much wanted her around.
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Being like an overprotective Slytherin father, he fed her himself. He wanted to make up for old times that he missed. She didn't mind much, as she was almost certain the muggles never have.
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For the week she's been in Riddle Manor, she discovered Voldemort actually had a heart and only ever showed it to her.
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Once there was no food left for her to eat, her father used magic so the plate returned to the kitchen. He raised the sheets up to her neck and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
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He loved his daughter so much. Nothing would ever come before her. It's been over a decade, but he's got her back.
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"Goodnight, little angel" he whispered. She was surprised he didn't continue saying something like 'angel of darkness' or something, but she got over it and fell asleep.
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Not as much as you'd think changed with her, so she kept having nightmares about the muggles who she lived with.
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Recently, she's gotten scarier ones where she never escapes, and she just dies in that muggle home. No one at Hogwarts cares about the news in those horrid dreams.
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By the time she woke up, she was covered head to toe in sweat. Of course she didn't snap out of the nightmares on her own. It was a Death Eater, one she started to trust. Her and her scary sister both.
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Narcissa, with Bellatrix a bit further away nervously, knowing she scared the girl.
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"We need to get you dreamless sleep potions. You shouldn't be getting nightmares. Yours actually are full of horror, while Draco cowers at the mention of a unicorn. Seriously, my son's got issues" said Narcissa. Hermione sort of smile-chuckled, the way she'd laugh around them.
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"Speaking of, he's already here for the holidays. Your father thought it would be best to have him around you so you can have someone to talk to" chimed in Bellatrix.
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She didn't really look forward to seeing him, as she thought it'd be just like school. He'd argue, taunt, mock, and be an arrogant jerk.
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Still, he couldn't come anywhere near as bad as that muggle. No one she's ever crossed paths with could.
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The very moment the door opened to reveal his obnoxious face made her blood run cold.
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"Wait, what? You're the one I have to spend the holidays with? No! I'm not doing this. I didn't sign up for this" he complained at the sight of her.
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"Shut up!" Those words made Hermione tremble in fear as it was yelled. It didn't matter that it was Bellatrix's voice. The only thing that ran through her mind was the abusive scum she'd never forget.
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"What? That mudblood is not going to be anywhere near me!" Those words added with the ones just previously said was a bad mixture.
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"For Merlin's sake, stop talking. She's the daughter of the Dark Lord himself, you really think she's a muggleborn?"
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After she argued with the little devil of a nephew, she looked up to Hermione. She froze in her place as she recognized that state she was in. A memory, she thought in her head.
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Draco had no clue why his aunt was running to the Gryffindor's side. He just stood where he was by the door, arms crossed like a child.
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It confused him when his aunt started to speak in a calm voice to her, trying to calm her.
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As usual, he remained careless as he watched. But he soon worried as he heard her whimpering. It scared him, because she was never like that at Hogwarts. Even his scary aunt couldn't cause someone to react like that.
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"Draco, come over here" his aunt called him. He lagged as he approached his nemesis. Never has he seen so much fear in anyone's eyes.
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Grey met brown and there wasn't as much hate like usual in between.
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"Hold her hand" she ordered.
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That was when he came back to his senses.
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"What, why?"
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"Don't you dare argue with me, just do it!" Her whispered yells make his blood run cold so he did exactly as told.
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He was surprised at the frigid hands of hers, while his were warm. It was sort of a perfect match.
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He brought warmth and comfort to the last person he ever would've thought would be in such a vulnerable state. The last person he would've thought he'd spend his holidays with.
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"Rub your thumb against her palm, and don't you dare argue young boy" his aunt instructed. He did as told and wished he knew what was even wrong with the bookworm.
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"Can I at least-"
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"No you cannot. Stay here and don't you even think about letting her hand go and leaving her alone" threatened his aunt.
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He couldn't breathe at all until she was out of the room, probably to see his mother or the Dark Lord.
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Focusing all of his attention back on her he noticed a few tears leaving her eyes. His other hand reached out to wipe them away, trying to make the best of the predicament.
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Slowly, her tightly shut eyes opened and she only stared at the wall blankly.
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"What's wrong?" He was just trying to be friendly and make conversation, even though he didn't want to be there.
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"Leave me alone" she told him, trying to pull her hand out of his. Out of pure fear that his aunt would place a permanent jinx on him, he only held tighter, but made sure he didn't hurt her.
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"As much as I would like to, I can't. My aunt is kind of determined to kill me if I don't listen to her" he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
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As she remained silent his eyes noticed scars on her arm, along with too many bruises. He paled at the sight, making his already light complexion nearly transparent.
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"H-Hermione? W-what happened to y-your arm?" She froze at those words, and it took her a while before she turned to look at the arm he was looking at in fear.
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"Years work of torture" was all she said. Those words alone nearly made him vomit.
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"B-by who?" He knew he probably shouldn't ask, but he wanted to know.
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"The muggles who posed as my parents. Mainly, the father. The mother didn't do anything. She wasn't even around, for she always wanted to work" explained Hermione.
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"That's horrible. On a totally unrelated note, where would one find these muggles? Hypothetically speaking" he asked.
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"You can't kill them, if that's what you're thinking. The mother died a year ago of cancer and the father killed himself" she said trying hard not to let the tears slip. Not for them. They don't deserve it.
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Instead of plotting murder, Draco remained by her side, holding her hand and rubbing soothing patterns on her palm, and with his other hand he rubbed her shoulder.
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"I'm sorry" he whispered with a hint of shame in his voice, mixed with regret. "I'm sorry I was a bully. It's just my home life, you know? Bullies are made. I was made from my father's ignorance and strict rules. I was forced to do as he said. I was a mini version of him. He even tried to get me to grow my hair out like him, but that's where my mother drew the line"
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"I like her, your mum" confessed Hermione.
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"Yeah, she gives off a wave of kindness until your on her bad side. One time my father was eating at dinner a bit too loud when she lectured him about etiquette. It was hard for me not to laugh, so I had to excuse myself before I was on her bad side as well" he recollected.
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He was happy to see a hint of a smile on her face. It worried him more than anyone that she was so vulnerable.
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He had gone to school with her, whether or not as friends, and he knew what she was like. Nerdy, bossy, and downright scary. She also had quite a strong hand. The punch he was given in third year had hurt for a while.
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"Do you like hot cocoa?"
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"I've never really tried it before" she revealed to him.
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"You've got to be kidding me. You can never live without having tried hot cocoa. Come on, I'll go make us some" he insisted.
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"I can't really move," she reminded him. With an eye roll he picked her up so that she was on his shoulders, and had her legs wrapped over his chest and arms around his neck.
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Soon they were down in the kitchen of Riddle Manor, a place unfamiliar to Draco and Hermione both.
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He took time to putting his absolute best into the drink until it was finally ready. First there were some necessary toppings, like cool whip, and a pinch of crushed Oreos.
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After manually putting everything back to where it should be, he got their drinks and took them back upstairs.
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What they didn't know was that they were watched. By whom, you may ask? Her father, his aunt, and his mother.
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"You're son has moved from nemesis to friend pretty quickly" noted the mass murderer. He wasn't against the boy, merlin no.
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If anything, he wanted more than anything for him to get her feeling more herself, and forget about the pain she was in. Forget about the past she won't have to go back to. If only he knew the future.