NOVEL NEXT Chapter 5: Chapter 5
Offer. He snorted. It wasn't an offer she was giving him, and everybody in the room knew it. It was an ultimatum. Stay with the enemy or risk death. The will to live only just beat his pride. Fine, let them feed him and provide an ancient roof over his head. His parents would be looking for him. His father would convince the Dark Lord to overlook his...mishap. Perhaps.
"He accepts," Snape spoke on his behalf, giving his ex-pupil a stern look that dared him to protest.
"So be it," McGonagall sighed, with all the dread of a demon-bargained soul. "Do you have any belongings?"
His eyes fell into his lap again. The simple answer was no. No, he didn't have a bloody thing to call his own. Just the multi-scourgified and battered clothes he'd been wearing since that night, and a set of robes that Snape had given him. He was stripped of all the tokens of wealth; the symbols that represented his infamous heritage, and he hated it.
"No," he spat quickly, shuttering his eyes.
"Then I will have the House-elves get some things for you," she told him, her tone no softer than before. "I'll have them sent to Miss Granger's room at some point tomorrow."
"And Miss Granger has agreed to this arrangement?" the older wizard questioned with a sceptical tone.
"Not yet."
Draco's golden eyebrows rose high on his pale forehead. Not yet? The woman was digging his grave faster than Voldemort.
.
.
She dragged her anxiety-nibbled fingertips over the old bricks as she shuffled her feet down the corridor, her other hand clutching her glowing wand to guide her way. She'd figured out why McGonagall had summoned her now. There was only one possibility.
Bad news.
Someone had died. Or been hurt. Perhaps Harry and Ron's plans had been discovered. Maybe the school was under another threat. Or Voldemort could have found the Order's headquarters.
There were hundreds of possibilities, and all of them bad.
She mourned her optimism; wished it hadn't been stolen by Astronomy Tower's dark memory and the absence of her best her sad thoughts of that night were stolen when McGonagall's distorted voice rattled down the passage, and just as the echoes subsided, another voice joined her. A man's voice.
Her grip on her wand tightened and she picked up her pace, the smacks of her footsteps loud amongst the acoustics. She couldn't discern specific words or even if there was perhaps a third voice vibrating along the walls now. With a twitch of her wrist and the password whispered again under her breath, the thick door slammed open. Her eyes went wide and wild when she absorbed the scene.
Snape. Here. In Hogwarts.
She didn't even notice Malfoy.
Three heads whipped around to look at her, but she only saw one. Him. The man that had killed the greatest man she'd ever known. She felt fire burst in her chest.
"You," she breathed, her features stretching with shock for a moment before the angry lines creased her face. Her wand arm straightened with an agitated snap of her elbow, and her bark-brown eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Impedimenta!"
He blocked her spell effortlessly, and it infuriated her more. The witch's rage was pounding her ears, muffling McGonagall's request for her to relax. Her magic was throbbing at her fingertips, ready for revenge. She fired a Stupefy, but it was deflected like her last attack.
Draco watched the duel silently with his calculating eyes, wondering why Snape was actually participating in it at all. Surely a quick Petrificus would put the meddlesome Mudblood in her place. She hadn't noticed him; hadn't once taken her eyes off the other wizard. He would bet his family's fortune that spotting him would hardly calm the little tantrum she was having right now.
Snape eyed the girl calmly and shot a silent disarming spell in her direction, deciding it was best to end this before it got out of hand. He cocked an impressed eyebrow when it had no effect, and faltered when another one of her curses made him stumble on his feet. She had been practising. When had she learned silent shielding charms?
"Enough!" McGonagall tried to intervene, but Hermione's eyes barely flicked over to the woman. "Miss Granger, calm down and let me explain-
The young witch didn't blink. "Confrin-
Her wand flew away from her hand, and her confused and betrayed stare shifted over to the headmistress. She felt charmed ropes coil around her to restrict her movements, and frustrated tears sauntered down her cheeks. The older witch gave her an apologetic look before she jerked her wand again, and Hermione felt her feet leave the floor before she went flying back into a closet.
The door closed behind her with a blunt bang, and she remained frozen in the dark for a stunned moment before she was struggling with everything she had and shouting until her throat felt stripped by bleach. Why was McGonagall doing this? She coughed on an outraged sob and swallowed back the scream caught in her windpipe.
What the hell was going on?
On the other side of the door, Draco sank back into the chair with a roll of his eyes. He watched the pair of professors as they shared a look of scepticism and resisted the compulsion to shake his head or laugh at their stupidity. How could they honestly be surprised that she had reacted the way she did? He really was surrounded by bloody idiots.
"Well," he commented, his voice raspy at the back of his throat, but still rich with surplus sarcasm. "That went well."
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