The Fractured Flame | Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter Eleven: Healer Granger

Both the Potter and soon to be potter nodded in agreement. Theo left shortly after, a small feeling of hope in his chest. He hadn't felt this way in a long time. After all, he didn't particularly care about the outcome of the war. A snake was a snake regardless how you looked at it, but he had been telling the truth about Draco earlier.

The missions he volunteered first for.

The torture sessions he carried out on innocent people.

The amount of people he witnessed murdered in cold blood standing by the Dark Lord's side.

The amount of times he suffered the Cruciatus Curse because Blaise or him fucked up, and he took the blame without telling them. The only reason they'd find out would be because they'd walk into his bedroom only to find him gasping in pain or a cold sweat in the middle of the floor.

The amount of silencing charms Draco would cast on himself because he'd wake up screaming, thinking he was being tortured by the witches and wizards he'd tortured.

Theo took a deep breath, trying to calm down his anxiety. Draco deserved more than anyone he knew to be happy. He hoped that Hermione could be this person for him, but on that same note he hoped that Hermione wouldn't break him.

It was a fractured flame of hope.

Healer Granger

Hermione knew that purchasing Crookshanks instead of an owl like most students had been one of the best decisions of her life. After floo-ing to her apartment and her yelling at Draco to put her down, her lovable, protective familiar jumped on the back of the Slytherin's head.

Draco had dropped her in utter surprise, moments away from avada-ing the feline when Hermione threw an expelliarmus charm at him. An automatic reaction from the war, he countered the disarming charm with a stinging hex, and she rolled on the ground to dodge it. Instead, it left a singe mark on her floor.

"Malfoy!" She snapped, irritated, "If you kill my cat, I'm killing you."

He held out the half-kneazle creature at an arms length, glaring into it's golden, amber eyes. "This thing is as ugly as it was a decade ago when you bought it. Honestly, you couldn't have purchased an owl like every other normal witch?"

"He is not ugly!"

"Granger, if you put this bloody cat in front of me and an orange dugbog that's been dead for years, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference." Draco remarked wryly, "I've never seen anything uglier in my life."

She snatched her cat away from him, shooting him a nasty look. "Then you've obviously never looked at yourself in the mirror, have you?"

He blinked, incredulously. "Did you call me ugly, just now? You, with the wild curly hair that's in need of a hairbrush every time the humidity is over 1%."

"Oh go shove your head into a bucket of hair gel like you did when you were a first year." Hermione gritted out, resisting the urge to touch her hair. She was thankful it was braided since she hadn't had a chance to do anything with it since she took a shower earlier.

Draco snorted inwardly, "If I recall correctly, you love my hair. Especially when drunk Granger kept talking about how soft it was." Seeing her look, he held up his hands in mock self-defense. "I know, I know. We don't consult 'sober Hermione about drunk Hermione.'" He mimicked her in an obnoxious voice, "I bloody recall our earlier conversation."