The sounds were unbearable.

Really he hadn't thought it would turn out this way, honestly. How he thought it'd turn out, he didn't even know, but he definitely wasn't expecting this, or maybe rather he was expecting to feel completely different about it.

When he had let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts months of worry and hard work had rewarded him with the destruction of the school that had become his second home and the death of the first man that had ever thought he was something more than a bad kid and reflection of his father's mistakes. Oh how he wished he could take it back, but there had been so much pressure, so much riding on it, including his parent's lives.

His parents, he would almost laugh if he could tear his eyes away from the sight on the floor in front of him. His father, Lucius Malfoy, someone of short temper but high class and regality, someone he had always looked up to and tried to be like. He had always known of course that no matter how hard he tried he would always be more like his mother than his father, but it hadn't stopped him from trying. Now his father was a withered, sniveling coward in his own home. His childhood hero was nothing more than a broken man with a passion for groveling at the dark lord's feet.

His mother, a woman he had always respected, a woman who embodied elegancy and grace, had shrunk down in the past months. Every move she made she seemed to be trying to make herself smaller and less of a target. She flinched at the tiniest of movements and grimaced at her own voice. The woman had once been grand and kind. Her lips would constantly be tilting upwards when he talked to her as a child. She seemed so happy back then

He blamed himself some of this but his father more. His father was at fault for following a madman into a battle. That's what the dark lord was, a madman. He was nothing to be admired. Draco had learned that in the past couple of months. Of course, he would never say it our loud. Madman he may be but Voldemort was something to fear and his followers were just as bad.

He felt his face contort as he took in his aunt Bella hunched over Hermione Granger carving that horrible word into her skin and demanding answers. If the girl knew anything about the sword she was being exceedingly brave. Her screams echoed all around the room periodically, but her whimpering cries were what was killing him. His parents stood there, looking on, like this was the most natural thing in the world to be happening in your sitting room.

"Who stole it!? What else did you take?" Bellatrix growled as she dug the last letter of the word into the girl's skin. Hermione only whimpered and shook her head. Such bravery on her part, such cowardice on his. Here he was standing and watching the sadistic torture of a girl his age and his mouth wasn't even moving in protest.

Coward

He thought about it often, how brave the opposing side was and how cowardly he was. Although, he's fairly sure that this is what was expected of him from the very beginning. He's fairly sure that everyone, save for maybe Dumbledore, knew he was a poor excuse for a wizard and not for lack of ability but for lack of bravery and conviction.

Bellatrix spit at the girl and called her some more vile things before backhanding her across the face. Draco finally looked away. The sight was too much. It was when he looked away that he started to think and when he started to think he started to become puzzled. Harry Potter was a lot of things, but he was not the type to sit while he could escape or help. He had been fairly certain that they two boys would have escaped by now, that they would be fighting him and his family to retrieve their third member and that they would be half way out the door.

He listened, really listened over the sounds of the whimpering and the sounds of his own ragged breathing. He heard nothing, no floorboards creaking, no whispering, nothing. Nothing to signal the return of the two boys to the sitting room. His breathing hitched. What if they had already left, what if they had left her in the sitting room and they weren't coming back?

No, they couldn't have he assured himself.

They wouldn't leave her to be tortured and killed.

But then he started really listening to Aunt Bella. Her snarling was growing more desperate and more angry.

"What else did you take!?" she cried again at the shaking girl beneath her. What else could she have taken?

That's when he knew, he might not be the bravest but he hadn't ever been dumb, dense occasionally maybe, never dumb. Aunt Bella had something of importance in her vault. Something that the other side needed. Her screaming and growling had surely echoed into the cellar where Harry and Ron were taken. The only reason this girl was still on the floor of his sitting room was because the two had left, for the good of the war.

He knew also that she would understand that type of sacrifice. She would respect it even if it meant her death.

Bellatrix let out a low growl and stood from the girl like she repulsed her.

"Bring me the Goblin!" She snapped at his father, who trembled slightly and then nodded. Draco watched as blood dripped from Hermione's wound. "Mudblood" scratched hastily and evilly into her forearm. He wanted to do something.

He looked to his aunt, her hair was flying wildly, her eyes searching into nothingness.

No he HAD to do something. She would die if he didn't do something.

It seemed to happen very quickly after that. He tried not to think about what he was doing or what the consequences might be.

"They're gone!" His father shouted from the cellar stairs but Draco could hear the disbelief and wonder laced into his frustrated tone.

"GONE!?" Bellatrix screamed. Fury seemed to seep off of her. Her face turned a brilliant red color almost the color of the Weasley brood's hair. The room crackled with energy and Bella turned towards the shivering girl weeping silently on the sitting room floor. He saw the coldness in her eyes and the cruelty of her smile. Aunt Bella was more unhinged than ever.

"And left their little girl to play?" Bellatrix's voice was a hallow whisper. Fantasies of torture were expressed in her demeanor. She stomped over to the girl who let out a terrified shriek and hauled her up to look her in the eyes. "They'll regret that I think."

And then time slowed. It happened very fast. Hermione let out a tiny cry and Bellatrix pushed her with unnecessary force with the intent to have her land cruelly and painfully back on the hard wood. But he was moving, he couldn't really believe it was happening. Once step and then another and he suddenly had the girl in his arms.

There was silence. Bella's eyes met his. His mother let out a little whimper as she realized what was about to happen and his father, reappearing in the room, started to speak. Before anything more could be said, before a single spell could be uttered, he thought desperately back to the place his mother had brought him one summer. The summer between third and fourth year to be exact.

It had been a little town, not magical, which had meant that the secret had stayed between them. She had only stayed for lunch because she so wanted to try a little restaurant there and then they had left with full stomachs and smiles on their faces.

With a loud pop that changed the course of his entire life, he apparated.

The street was just as quite as he remembered it being. He thanked Merlin for that. The apparation had caused the poor girl in his arms to blackout. She leaned heavily against him. He hoped he had enough strength to carry her somewhere safe. He hadn't been eating much lately despite the grand feasts Voldemort threw.

Murderers don't deserve to eat

He shook his head at the thought. Maybe that was true but he could've used the extra strength now to carry her. He bent down and put one arm under her knees before lifting her to his chest. Her arms hung limply to her sides. Fortunately it seemed as if she had been skipping meals as well. He was able to life her without too much effort and he began to journey down the street to see where they could spend the night. This was a summer town, surely there were some empty vacation homes seeing as winter was upon them.

"Just you and me now Granger," he murmured. She didn't stir.