Finding Draco - A Dramione Novel

Chapter 19 - Draco

"Christmas? With Weasley? Hermione, you can't be serious?" Draco was running out of patience for this conversation. He could tell there were only two options: concede defeat or continue this futile disagreement.

"For the last time, Draco, it isn't what you're thinking. My family doesn't even know I exist! Regardless of how you feel about them, the Burrow has been my second home."

"And how do you think they're going to feel when you tell them that you've been with me all this time? You think they are going to be supportive? You imagine Weasley, the pillar of maturity, will let it go?" Even if she went to that rat nest of a house for Christmas, Draco wanted to ensure she was prepared for the onslaught of criticism that was sure to follow this revelation.

She looked away from him, crossing her arms and anxiously tapping her foot. Deep color was rising in her cheeks. She looked guilty. No. Draco could hardly believe it. Her plan was to have a jolly Christmas with her mates and completely ignore his presence in her life. Leave him out from the stories she'd tell.

Not after everything they've been through. Jarvey. Neeper. She said she loved him.

"You weren't planning on telling them, were you?' His words an accusatory hiss.

"Draco, it's more complicated than just showing up after three months and announcing that I'm dating Draco Malfoy."

Draco turned away from her, trying to contain his rising temper. He felt the pull of his former self pushing him. The part of him that was hissing right now. He clenched his fists and tightened his jaw. Fucking Potter and Weasley. They wanted to steal her away from him. He needed her.

"Draco, are you alright?"

Am I alright?

"No. I understand. You care about Potter and Weasley, and you don't want to destroy their precious vision of you. You don't want to show them how low you've sunk, begging a Death Eater to fuck you."

Draco opened her door and slammed it behind him. She was chasing after him, screaming something, but it didn't matter--he wasn't listening.

Draco pulled out the Portkey and gripped the pin against his flesh. He felt the pull behind his navel and landed unceremoniously on the freezing Potions Quidditch pitch.

He'd been angry before--he knew rage like an old friend. But this felt different. This felt like a betrayal. He already had confessed their entire relationship to his mother. He told her how Hermione was like a magnetic pull towards the light. How he was in love with her, how impressive a witch she was. How she reminded him of her. His mother graciously extended Hermione a dinner invitation during the holidays. Hermione didn't know about that, though. It was going to be a surprise. His mother conveyed a genuine desire to meet her properly--to meet the woman he had fallen in love with.

She could never understand what their relationship meant for him, the only heir to the Malfoy name. To have a relationship with a muggle-born witch was unheard of. There were no half-blood Malfoys. It was a pureblood dynasty. A name in the sacred twenty-eight. The most prestigious pureblood families of wizarding Britain. Some people had the freedom to marry who they wanted - he didn't. He was supposed to father another pureblood Malfoy.

This Christmas, he would have to convince his father to consent to this relationship or risk losing him as his son. That was what was on the line for him.

Draco paced back and forth across the mid-field line of the pitch, trying to dislodge this emotion.

"Draco Malfoy, you do not get to run away from me. Not now, not ever!" She landed her broom and stormed up to him. "I don't care how angry you are, you stay and you confront it. Nothing is solved by you running away."