The Return

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He was jerked awake, both by a crack of thunder and the banging of his bedroom door. Instead of brandishing out his wand, however, Draco buried his head beneath his pillows and groaned. "Rose," he growled. "I told you to knock this out."

Another week flew by with Rose Weasley in his flat and nothing extraordinary or disastrous had ever happened since they came back from the Malfoy Manor. Oh, the child was still a menace, but Draco found himself more amused than irate. He actually spent more time with Rose, even attending one of her ridiculous tea parties just to appease the redhead. Suffice to say it was an awkward experience, especially because Morty was invited and the house elf had been a blubbering mess. Funnily enough, Tippy was brilliant at playing pretend and invited him back to her next tea party. Morty, however, wasn't invited back.

Rose's nightmares had increased, too, although she was adamant that she merely wanted to read bedtime stories with him. Draco did not push her about this, and merely humoured the redhead by reading her books aloud until she fell asleep on his bed.

She always had a habit of running to his room and bursting inside, which was why he stopped stupidly brandishing his wand around. It would be dangerous if he had hit Rose with a spell, when the child was defenseless.

"Go back to your room," he murmured. Today was a bad day for him. He had just Portkeyed home from Switzerland, leaving Rose under the care of Tippy. He had always hated International Portkeys since they always made him nauseous for hours. Draco decided to call it an early night and rest, thankful that Rose had already gone to bed.

Apparently, she had other thoughts in mind and decided to bother him tonight.

When another thunder rumbled in his room, Draco finally peeked out from his pillows and frowned. Rose would have bounced onto his bed right now, urging him to read her a story. There was still no bouncing done, and Draco was confused.

"Rose?" he called, now slowly grabbing his wand underneath his pillow and sitting up. Before he could illuminate his room, lightning briefly lit his whole room. Instead of the tiny child standing in front of his door, a woman was bent over his carpeted floor and bleeding all over.

"Holy shite," he cursed, bounding out of his bed quickly. "Granger?"

The visitor responded and slowly lifted her head. Draco locked eyes with Hermione's honey coloured ones, prompting him to take a sharp intake of breath. Her expression was pained; she was bleeding on her forehead and her lips. Quickly scanning her body, he noted that she was particularly injured at her abdomen, and she was trying her best to put pressure on that body part to stop the bleeding.

"Ma-Malfoy," she croaked. A soft shriek of pain escaped from her lips, and she bent over once more. Draco immediately ran towards her side and knelt down in front of her. Pushing her hands aside, he paled upon noting that the injury was particularly nasty than what he had originally thought.

Without any second thoughts, he immediately carried her onto his bed. He ripped off her ruined shirt to get a good look on her injury. The candles in his room illuminated instantly with a flick of his wand. Narrowing his eyes, he looked down at her injury and noted the black veins sprouting from it. It did not look like an ordinary wound.

"What happened?" he asked, swallowing a lump of panic.

Her heavily lidded eyes connected with him once more. "Lestrange," she whispered, wincing in pain. "I... I don't know what he did."

He was not knowledgeable on any medical stuff, but Draco knew this one was a dark curse which required immediate attention. "Let's bring you to St. Mungo's -"

"No," she interjected, grabbing onto his wrist with all the strength she could muster. Tears of pain and fear were now streaming from her dirtied face as she continued, "Rose."

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