The Return

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."

"She's all right," he assured, wordlessly healing her simpler wounds. "She's asleep." He tried a few healing spells he knew on her abdomen. Thankfully, the blood had ceased spilling, but the black veins were still present. He cleaned her dirtied state, and all that was left was a pale, frail, and shaking brunette and Draco did not know what to do. "Let's go to St. Mungo's," he urged.

But Hermione stubbornly shook her head. "To-tomorrow," she tearfully said. "I have to see my daughter first."

Draco blew an irritated sigh. "Fine," he spat. "I'll wake her up and—"

"N-no," she cried, tightly grabbing onto his wrist. "She can't see me like... this."

"Then let me take you to St. Mungo's!" he bellowed, scowling darkly at the shivering brunette. "If you bloody well die tonight, then I don't think you'll ever see her at all," he snapped.

Fear flashed in her face and Draco stared down at her in horror. She believed she was going to die, which was why she was refusing to go to St. Mungo's in such a state without worrying her daughter at all. "Fuck, Granger," he growled in panic. He decided to call for Healer Matthews for some help, and hoped against hope that the healer would immediately heed his call.

She hissed in pain once more, and Draco numbly ran to his kitchen. He grabbed a vial of pain potion and sleeping draught and ran to his bedroom once more as if his life depended on it. Hermione was violently shaking when he arrived, teeth loudly chattering in his eerily silent room.

He helped her drink the pain potion and the effect was instantaneous. Her pained expression disappeared, and all that was left was panic and fear. "You need to rest," he instructed when she warily looked at the sleeping draught in his hands. "I won't bring you to St. Mungo's, I promise. But I'll try to call for a Healer to immediately tend to you. Is that okay?"

She contemplated for a while, before weakly nodding her head.

"Drink this, then," he said, gingerly offering the potion. Hermione grabbed the potion and drank it in three gulps. Soon, she was sleeping on his bed. She was too pale and her pulse was weak; it almost scared him to think that she looked dead.

With this thought in mind, he sharply called for Tippy. The house elf appeared in an instant, while rubbing his right eye and releasing a wide yawn. "Master Draco called for Tippy?" he sleepily inquired.

"Call for Healer Matthews, quick," he ordered sternly.

When the house elf spotted the unconscious brunette on his bed, his eyes widened. Wordlessly, he disappeared with a crack. Draco was left alone in distress, praying to whomever that Healer Matthews would arrive soon.

__________

Draco had not slept a wink ever since Hermione arrived, worried stiff to at least rest his eyes. The injured brunette was still unconscious, and he checked on her once in a while to see if she was still alive and breathing. Her breaths turned ragged and the pain potion had worn off now. She made grimaces while asleep, soft moans of pain escaping from her lips now and then. The sleeping draught was powerful, however, and the pain was not enough to jerk her awake.

Healer Matthews arrived when the sun was already rising over the horizon. He was a distinguished man, with a proud brow and pointy nose. His steely, green eyes commanded respect and action. Draco had been wary about him from the start as his mother's personal Healer, but the respectable Healer was the most competent in his field. Draco trusted him with his life and his mother's and now, Granger's.

"Forgive my lateness, I was in a conference," he excused. He looked frazzled and weary, but the determined gaze in his eyes did not make him hesitate. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I'd rather you see it for yourself," Draco grimly replied and ushered Healer Matthews into his room.

The Healer was always stoic; whenever Draco went to him, injured from altercations of furious family members of victims he had killed or wounded, he never batted an eye and quickly healed them. However, as Draco watched Healer Matthews striding into his room and seeing an unconscious Hermione Granger, the healer's eyes widened.

"Hermione Granger," he simply said, turning to him. "I thought she is out of the country."

"She was," he corrected, gesturing weakly at her general vicinity. "She appeared out of nowhere in my flat, bleeding everywhere." Such was his distraught, he forgot to clean the bloody pool Hermione had left on his carpet. 'I'll tend to that later,' he distractedly thought.

Healer Matthews made a sound at the back of his throat and pulled out his wand. He made intricate wand movements, and instantly, blue light engulfed Hermione. Her vital signs projected above her, and Draco paled, noticing that her pulse was too slow, her breathing too fast. The healer's expression was not helping at all.

The healer immediately magicked her shirt away, fully exposing her injured abdomen. His frown had deepened as he examined the black veins sprouting from her wound. It started bleeding once more, and Draco had reverently tried to stop it to prevent her from bleeding to death.

"I had given her some blood replenishing potion an hour ago," he informed him. "I also gave her some pain potion and sleeping draught immediately after she arrived."

Healer Matthews did not answer, too busy checking the responsiveness of her pupils and her breathing patterns. He made another set of complicated wand movements, this time toward the wound on her abdomen. As black light appeared, the healer's expression darkened.

"It is bad, isn't it?" Draco gravely asked.

"Indeed," the healer said with a firm nod. He frowned at Draco. "You should have brought her to St. Mungo's immediately."

"Did you think I never thought of that?" he snapped. When Healer Matthew's merely lifted an eyebrow at the tone of his voice, Draco sighed and calmed himself down. "The bloody witch refused to be brought to St. Mungo's last night. Which is why I called you, hoping you can do something about it."

The healer was thoughtful for a while, and looked down at the injury on her abdomen once more. "This is a very dark curse," the healer continued. Draco wasn't surprised; he had thought as much. "And, all I can do is stabilize her and stop the spread. See those black veins?" He traced at some while Draco followed his fingers. "They are growing and once they reached her heart..."

He trailed off, grave, and Draco blanched.

"It is still best that Miss Granger is brought to St. Mungo's," Healer Matthews resolutely said. "Healers of Spell Damage would know what to do."

Draco ran a frustrated hand through his hair and nodded.

He waited until Healer Matthews declared he had stabilized the brunette and stopped the spreading of the veins. The healer soon left, and Draco waited beside Hermione until she woke up.

__________

Rose was already up for the day and Draco sighed, taking it as a cue to walk out of his bedroom. He had spent the remaining hours before breakfast contemplating on how to tell the child that her mother was here and severely injured. Until now, Draco was still at a loss.

He checked on Hermione, who was still unconscious, one last time, before finally striding out of his bedroom. He immediately strode into the dining table and found Rose, who was already happily munching on her French toast while reading the Daily Prophet.

"Good morning, Draco!" she brightly greeted, showing off her complete set of baby teeth.

Draco merely grunted and sat down on the chair opposite her. Tippy had prepared for him some muffins and sausages, with a steaming cup of hot cocoa. 'Maybe I need coffee today,' he thought, making a face. His head already felt dull and woozy due to his international travel and lack of sleep. Dealing with Rose today would be so much worse, and he decided to just get this over and done with.

"Finwick left Tornados!" she gravely announced, pointing on the picture of the disgruntled ex-Quidditch member of the Tutshill Tornados. Occasionally, he would fall asleep and would immediately be awoken by one of the reporters. "Tornados have no Keeper for the next season."

Draco wasn't really surprised this happened. The Keeper was infamously known for his narcolepsy; Birch blamed him for their loss against the Ballycastle Bats after all. The only reason why they kept him was because he was actually a brilliant Keeper. Well, if he managed to stay awake throughout the match.

"Captain Birch will find one, I'm sure," he reassured, mentally preparing himself to break the news to the child.

"I like Finwick," Rose said with a frown. "He has pretty hair."

The blond sighed and determinedly looked at Rose. "Listen, menace -"

Rose gasped loudly, and pointed at another picture on the Daily Prophet. "Uncle Harry!" she exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise.

Draco frowned and snatched the newspaper from her hands despite her protests. As what she had said, Harry Potter was standing in front of the reporters with a grim look on his face. His picture self would constantly shake his head, glare at the reporters, and then scowl. Then, the picture would loop and his expressions would repeat.

He gazed at the headline and read:

Rogue Death Eater Caught in China

By: Phyllis Poppycock

It has been revealed two weeks prior that Rodolphus Lestrange was the killer of our beloved hero, Ronald Weasley, last three years ago. In light with this revelation, Mister Weasley's widow, hailed War Heroine, Hermione Granger, and the famous Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, travelled to China in hopes of catching the rogue Death Eater.

Sources state that Lestrange was already caught, but people speculate that Lestrange was not working alone and that Hermione Granger is missing. When asked, Potter refuses to answer any questions, merely stating that they got the situation under control. Until now, Miss Granger's whereabouts are unknown, and it is believed that even The Boy-Who-Lived do not know where she is.

Rodolphus Lestrange is famously known as the husband of the late Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, and had been part of Voldemort's inner circle... (Cont'd in page 6)

Draco felt a sick sense of relief with the news that Lestrange was caught. Rogue Death Eaters, the diehard ones, could still not accept that their Dark Lord was gone for good. As a former Death Eater, he heard stories, mostly from Theo, how a small group was planning to build a resistance against the current Ministry. 'Which is plain stupid,' he thought with a disappointed sigh. The Light Side had gained steady power ever since Voldemort's defeat. Most of the Death Eaters had either been thrown to Azkaban or dead. A small few had defected in the Light Side before the Final Battle. A handful was still lurking aimlessly about, and Draco suspected these were the people who wanted to form a resistance.

"Is the... is the news bad?" Rose softly asked, fear in her eyes. "You don't look good, Draco."

Instead of answering her question, he set the newspaper aside and stared directly into her ocean eyes. "Rose," he started. The child sensed his urgency for she sat primly and looked solely at him. "I have something to tell you. So, listen carefully, okay?"

She slowly nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"Last night," he started slowly, trying to rack his brain for the right words to say. "Your mother arrived."

Her eyes widened like saucers. "Mama?" she gushed. "She's here?"

"Yes, yes, she is," he quickly said.

Rose was about to jump down from her seat and dash out to meet her mother, but Draco tightly latched onto her wrist with a warning look. "Before I let you see her, you have to be a good girl, okay?" he sternly said. Her eyes were already shining with tears of happiness, and Draco had to brush away the dread from his face so as not to worry the child. "She is sleeping now and she's very, very sick. You can't disturb her while she rests."

"Mama's not okay?" she softly asked, slowly pouting in worry.

Draco decided not to sugarcoat his words. "No, she isn't," he affirmed. "A Healer already checked her and she's okay for now. I think I have to bring her to St. Mungo's soon."

Tears welled up in her eyes, prompting him to sigh. "Do you promise to be a good girl?" he asked.

Rose daintily sniffed and wiped her tears away. "Y-yes, Draco," she shakily replied.

Draco gave a satisfied nod and ushered Rose into his room.

He braced himself as he opened the door, and was surprised to see that Hermione was awake. Her eyes instantly latched on his, her gaze tired and weary, but upon seeing that he brought Rose with him, tears gathered in her eyes.

"Rose," she croaked. "Sweetheart."

"Mama!" Rose sobbed, quickly climbing up Draco's bed and wrapped her arms around her mother. "Mama, are you okay? Draco said you're sick? You okay Mama? Are you hurt?"

Hermione chuckled at her inquisition and fondly swept away Rose's curls away from her face. Draco noted that she still constantly grimaced and took a mental note of giving her another round of pain potion.

"Oh my love, I missed you," the brunette tearfully declared, gathering her small child in her arms. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too, Mama," Rose replied. "You were gone for so long!"

Draco then slowly walked out of his room and closed the bedroom door, leaving the mother and daughter alone.

__________

The Malfoy Heir sent an Owl to Potter to tell him that Granger was staying in his flat, and was severely injured. Not even ten minutes had passed when his fireplace chimed and turned emerald.

"Malfoy, it's me."

Draco waved his hand and dropped the wards. Harry Potter instantly tumbled out of his fireplace in a messy heap, landing quite unceremoniously on the ground.

"Always graceful, Potter," Draco greeted with a sneer.

His old school nemesis merely gave him a glare and straightened up. "Where's Hermione?" he urgently asked, worry on his face.

"In my bedroom," the blond said, waving his wand once more to bring up to the wards. "Resting. Rose is with her right now."

Potter turned green and plopped down on one of the plush couches in his living room. He spied one of Rose's toys, the square, yellow, sponge thing, peeking underneath Potter's bottom, but the auror did not seem to notice. "She's not doing any good, is she?" he fearfully asked.

He looked like he already knew what the answer to his question was, but Draco answered him nevertheless. "She has a nasty wound on her abdomen due to a dark curse," the blond answered. "So yes, I think she is not doing any good."

Harry heavily sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Fucking Lestrange," he swore.

Draco silently watched as The-Boy-Who-Lived wearily removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent and his complexion was ashen. He also noticed various cuts on his faces, proof of a battle.

"What the hell happened?" Draco finally asked, unable to keep his curiosity anymore.

Potter was conflicted. He knew that he was thinking whether he should tell whatever happened in China. Thankfully, he decided to be truthful. "We caught Lestrange, which I think you already knew," he said, gesturing at the latest edition of the Daily Prophet on the coffee table. "And, simply put, it was a messy capture."

"I figured," he said, scowling. Rodolphus might be demented, but he was a damn, good fighter. There was a reason why he was one of the few that had escaped the clutches of the Ministry for years.

"There were a few Death Eaters with him, but they escaped," Harry continued, running a hand through his impossibly messy hair. "Lestrange was bloody strong, but Hermione managed to pin him down. I was... it was my entire fault." He pulled his hair in frustration, much to Draco's surprise. "I just... I left her there, alone with Ron's murderer, while I alerted the Ministry of his capture and I-I shouldn't have."

His voice cracked, and he hastily cleared his throat. Draco might be imagining things, but he thought Potter's eyes were unnaturally shiny today.

"I heard Hermione scream and I instantly came inside, but I was too late." Potter paused and took a deep intake of breath. "Lestrange sent a dark curse her way and she just..." He wearily ran a hand through his face, and Draco had to look away as some tears escaped from Potter's eyes. "She disappeared and I thought I lost her, too."

At the corner of his eyes, he saw Harry hastily wiping the wayward tears away. Draco gave him a moment to compose himself before turning his gaze back on Harry. "She's all right." He did not know why he was reassuring ruddy Potter, but it felt like it was the good thing to do. Besides, he was not the school bully anymore. "She's resting in my room."

"Bloody witch, making me worry like that," Harry said with a wet chuckle. "I think she thought of Rose when Lestrange's curse hit her, and accidentally apparated to your flat."

It made sense, Draco thought, as he nodded his head in agreement.

"May I... may I see her?" Harry asked.

The blond wordlessly gestured at his bedroom door, and Harry did not need to be told twice. He immediately scrambled from the couch and jogged towards his bedroom. Draco, on the other hand, opted to stay in the living room and waited until Potter left for the day.

__________

"You need to visit St. Mungo's."

It was not a request anymore, but an order, and Draco would be damned if Hermione continued to stubbornly refused.

Harry Potter had long left his flat. Rose was already asleep, snuggling against the brunette. Hermione was still wide awake and had been watching as Draco delivered a new batch of potions for her.

"I had a Healer check up on you last night, and he strongly recommended for you to be brought to St. Mungo's," he continued, refusing to meet Hermione's eyes. Looking at her made him feel strange; it did not settle with him, seeing Hermione weak and sickly. He had always believed she was brave, and strong, and too bloody good. Her condition right now had broken that perfect image of his.

"That bad, eh?" she rasped.

Draco sighed and finally met her eyes. There was an unreadable emotion in them, which he brushed off. "Yes," he stiffly replied. "Thankfully, Healer Matthews arrived just in time to arrest the progression of the black veins to your heart." If it were possible, Hermione paled more. "He owled me a while ago and stated he consulted with the Healers in the Spell Damage ward. Although deadly, the dark curse is easily treatable, but it would take a whole day for them to work on it."

Hermione wordlessly nodded her head.

"I think it is best if I accompany you to St. Mungo's tomorrow in the morning," he offered. Potter had offered to come with Hermione, but he still had to deal with Lestrange's paperwork and the media. Draco did not hesitate to volunteer accompanying her. Strangely, Potter did not protest and had even thanked him.

"But... Rose," she said, frowning. "I don't think she needs to be there tomorrow."

"I agree," he said, nodding his head. "I'll think of someone who can look after her while we go. So, for now, you must rest."

Hermione continued to look at him with an unreadable expression on her face. "I... well, I'll move to a guest room so you can sleep in your bedroom tonight, Draco," she offered, but he adamantly shook her head.

"Don't bother," he said with a stern glare. "You're already settled here. I'll sleep in my guest room tonight, so you really should get some sleep."

Granger bit her bottom lip, her honey-colored eyes staring widely at the blond.

"I better get going," he then said, flicking his wand to snuff out the candles. The room was instantly engulfed in darkness, but Draco could still see Hermione's outline. "Goodnight, Granger."

"Goodnight, Malfoy."

He was about to stride out of the room, but she called for his name once more, stopping him from his tracks.

"I...," she started. In the dark room, Draco could not see her facial expressions. He could see her eyes, though, and they were twinkling brightly. "Thank you, Malfoy. For everything."

He was thankful it was dark, for his face fully crumbled with the fear and worry he felt for her welfare. "Get some rest, Granger," was his mere reply, and then he left the room.