32. Chapter 32

Hey guys! Here's the next chapter. Last chapter, I passed 500 reviews. That is incredibly insane. I am so beyond amazed. It's all thanks to you guys. Without you, I would never have the encouragement to write this story. Thank you so much. Honestly. My life is crazy, and this story is one of the only constants. And I love you guys for that.

Also, I've been editing chapters, and I discovered that I'm in love with commas.

Disclaimer: Just no. Never.

The walls of Azkaban have fallen. All the prisoners have escaped. All of them.

The words bounced throughout the chamber. Everyone froze. Everyone tried to process what had been said, but no one could.

They had all lived in a time where escapes from Azkaban had happened often. They had lived in a time where dangerous beings walked the streets of Diagon Alley. They had lived in a time when one being controlled them all, and could end their life in an instant if he so pleased.

But that time of darkness had been seven years ago. No one ever forgets tragedy. The images from the war would be permanently burned into Draco's mind. But everyone tried to forget. They pushed it to the back of their minds and ignored it. They lived in the utopia of life nowadays and they pretended life had always been that way.

But it hadn't.

Draco felt as though they had been transported seven years into the past. The terror, the fear that had been their lives suddenly came crashing back in. It felt as though it was 1998. Everyone in the room was trying to wrap their heads around that fact.

All the death eaters had escaped. Every single one.

Draco nearly passed out as he realized the full consequences of the breakout. Draco knew who was in Azkaban. Avery, Rodolphus Lestrange, Mulciber, Travers, Thorfinn Rowle.

And Yaxley.

Yaxley had caused the breakout, Draco just knew it. The bastard was going to try and get at Hermione. Draco looked at her and saw the fear in his heart reflected in her eyes. But the fear was soon replaced by determination.

He wasn't going to lose her.

Draco stood up and pulled Hermione with him. All the eyes in the room turned to them. Draco rushed across the chamber to the auror booth. Blaise and Potter were in the first row.

Draco leaned forward towards Blaise.

"We're going back to Malfoy Manor. The wards are some of the strongest in the world."

"Are you sure? All the death eaters used to be able to get through them."

Draco nodded. "My mother re-did them after the war. You have to be of Malfoy blood."

Blaise nodded quickly, looking from side to side as if the death eaters were already in the building.

Potter spoke up. "If you need me, Malfoy, I'll be at Grimmauld Place." Draco nodded. He had gone there once with Blaise.

Potter looked him right in the eye. Draco had never seen such potent fear in the eyes of the boy who lived. "Protect her on your life."

Draco nodded. "I will."

Potter nodded and turned to Hermione. She leaned across the wall of the booth and hugged Potter. Potter clung to her. But eventually, he had to let her go.

Draco looked up at Kingsley, who gestured to the door. Draco took Hermione's hand once more and led her across the chamber. As soon as they were out of the courtroom, Draco set out at a dead sprint, with Hermione at his side.

They reached the elevators, popped back up to the atrium, which was in chaos. The news of Azkaban must have reached them. Draco and Hermione went unnoticed as they wrapped their arms around each other and apparated away.

They landed on the lawn. They raced up to the manor. Draco felt as though the eyes of evil were watching him. They raced inside and up to the kitchen, where Narcissa was reading the paper. She looked up as they sprinted inside.

"Draco? Hermione? What's happened?" She had jumped up at the expressions on their faces.

"Azkaban, breakout," panted Draco, trying to catch his breath.

Narcissa turned white. She began to mouth her disbelief. Shakily, she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to comprehend. She braced herself against the table.

"How?" she whispered, shell-shocked.

Draco couldn't answer. He felt his legs give way and found that he was sitting on the ground.

He couldn't wrap his mind around what was happening. He felt so lost in his surroundings. The world suddenly became blurry.

Draco thought back to that fateful day when he had run into Hermione. It had only been about three weeks back. It felt like a lifetime ago. It had been.

When he had been drunk that night and had knocked over Hermione, he had been at a fork in the road. His life could have gone down two paths, even if he hadn't realised it at the time. He could've just left, and not cared. Or, he could've done what he did: helped her up.

What would've happened if Draco had just walked away from her without looking her in the eye?

When Draco had reached out his hand, he had chosen Hermione unknowingly. But what if he hadn't? What if he had ignored the woman he had knocked down? What if he had walked right past her? What if he had woken up the next morning, without any note, and just gone to work? What if he hadn't ran into her later that day? What if?

Draco's life was a big pile of what ifs, and everyday he questioned them. What if he had refused the Dark Lord? What if he had chosen the light? What if he hadn't hated muggleborns? What if he hadn't been a bully at school? What if he had stood up to his father to save his mother? What if? What if? What if? But of course, the biggest what if of all.

What if he hadn't found Hermione?

Draco really thought about it. What if he had just walked by her that night? He probably would've come back to England, and maybe gone to the funeral. But he most likely would've never thought about her again. Potter wouldn't have gotten his life back. Draco wouldn't have ever known that Potter loved this girl. Azkaban wouldn't have had a breakout. Draco knew that Hermione was the reason. Draco would've grown old, maybe found a nice girl and settled down. He would've died late one night many years from now. That was one path his life could've taken.

But it hadn't.

Instead, he had reached out his hand. He had looked down upon the face of Hermione Granger, the lost war heroine. He had discovered the magnificence of Tim Hortons. He had annoyed the crap out of a muggle Weasel. He had spoken about his un-dying respect for her at her funeral. He had re-introduced happiness to Potter's life. He had re-entered the drawing room. He had slept with Hermione in his arms. He had returned to Hogwarts, his home of six years. He had gone to dinner with the Weasleys. He had kissed Hermione with all the passion he possessed. He had started to fall for her.

Draco looked up from his place on the floor at where Hermione was standing. She was staring at him worriedly. Her face was white, and she was breathing quickly.

Hermione was the path Draco's life had chosen, or more like fate had chosen for him. As he looked her in the eye, he didn't mind. His life without Hermione would've been simple. Easy. It would've been what he had expected. But with Hermione in it, his life had taken some extraordinary turns.

It had been endless turmoil. Ups and downs, and even some round and rounds. Hermione had introduced him to the emotions that he had crushed down. Hermione had opened his mind. She had changed him.

Sure, his other life would've been easier. And there wouldn't be an entire prison's worth of prisoners on the loose.

But it wouldn't have had Hermione in it.

Draco couldn't bear that thought.

It was incredible how much of a difference one girl could make. This one girl, or woman, had completely altered his life. The two paths were so different, and Hermione had been the change. Draco no longer felt like his life revolved around him anymore. Every force in the universe kept pulling him back towards her. When one person becomes the centre of your life, you know the change in your life isn't temporary. It was permanent.

Hermione was permanently a part of him. It didn't matter how he felt about her, or she him. She had changed his life, and she had changed him. She had taught him bravery, sacrifice, and all those traits Gryffindors boasted about. It was as if she had made a handprint on his heart. At first glance, all handprints look the same. But Hermione's fingerprints were everything only she could bring to him. People had touched Draco's heart before. But this handprint was Hermione's. And it was forever.

Draco found the strength to stand up and walk over to Hermione. He pulled her close until he could feel her heart pounding. She grabbed for him too. They molded, becoming one. They needed to be one.

Narcissa spoke up then. "Draco, how many prisoners escaped?"

Draco looked her in the eye, over Hermione's head. "All of them."

Narcissa blanched further. "Are you sure?"

Draco nodded.

Narcissa swayed for a moment before she righted herself. She looked back at Draco for a moment before speaking. "Do you understand what this means?"

Draco wasn't sure what she meant, but before he could answer, Draco heard an almighty crash from below.

Draco almost passed out.

It was the doors slamming open.

He could hear a figure moving through the house downstairs. Draco turned to his mother, simultaneously drawing his wand and putting himself between Hermione and the door.

"How could they have gotten in? Only a Malfoy can enter the wards!"

Narcissa looked sad as she answered. "Exactly."

Draco was confused for a moment, then it hit him. He was just realizing how much of a dumbass he was, when the kitchen door slammed open.

Lucius.

Draco's father was standing in the doorway, or more accurately leaning on the doorframe. He was the only figure there, thank Merlin. Draco's father was panting as he tried to stand up. He was obviously very weak, and Draco believed it.

His long blonde hair was limp. His entire body seemed hollow. His bones were clearly visible through his translucent skin. His clothes were rags. He seemed to have lost all of his colour. Draco looked at his father's eyes, which were wide and terrified. But those eyes weren't on him.

They were fixed on Narcissa.

"Cissy," Lucius whispered. He sounded so pitiful and weak that Draco felt a twinge at his heartstrings.

But only a twinge.

"What do you want?" Draco boomed out. Lucius set his eyes on Draco for the first time. Then on Hermione. Then on Draco's protective stance. Lucius's eyes filled with a strange emotion. Almost pride.

Lucius stumbled forward a few steps. Draco pushed Hermione back a bit.

"I want to talk," Lucius whispered.

"Are you alone?" Draco said, making sure that Lucius couldn't get at any part of Hermione.

Lucius nodded his head. Then he fell to the ground. He sat there, pitifully, staring up at them.

Draco turned to his mother. She had drawn her wand. But she was crying as she looked at the weak image of the man she had loved.

"I thought you were insane," she choked.

Lucius shook his head. "Almost. But Azkaban makes everything worse. I'm saner out here than in there."

Narcissa choked on a few more sobs, before gaining control of herself.

"Why have you come?"

Lucius looked up at his wife. "I needed to explain," he whispered. "I needed to tell you the truth."

Narcissa lowered her wand a tad. She simply looked confused. "The truth about what?"

Lucius looked her in the eye. "Why I joined the Dark Lord."

Draco almost dropped his wand. Of all the things he expected his father to say, that was not one of them. Draco flashed back to what Narcissa had told Hermione about Lucius joining Voldemort.

"Lucius got involved with him. I don't know why. It might've been for the power, maybe to protect us, maybe for some completely unrelated reason. Lucius became a death eater."

Narcissa was staring down at Lucius with a strange and unreadable expression. Her wand was still pointed at him, so she obviously didn't completely trust him. But, Draco knew his mother. She wanted to know that more than anything.

Narcissa spoke up. "There was a reason? Besides power, you mean? Because it always seemed like power to me. You sure seemed to like inflicting your will and strength on people. I've had many bruises over the years to prove it." Her voice was ice cold by the end.

Lucius flinched. His face was filled with agony. "Cissy, I'm so sorry."

Narcissa laughed. It gave Draco goosebumps. It was vaguely reminiscent of Bellatrix.

"You're sorry? About what? About ruining our lives by joining the Dark Lord? About never loving your son? About hurting me, in more ways than the physical scars? About making me feel fear every time I turned a corner in my home, thinking you'd be there? About leaving us? About forgetting you loved me once? About what, Lucius? About what?"

Lucius's face was nearly torn open by the agony.

"About everything." He sounded broken. Who was Draco kidding? He was broken.

Narcissa sighed. In a much softer voice, she spoke. "What do you need to say, Lucius?"

Lucius looked her in the eye. "I joined for you."

Narcissa looked at her husband kneeling on the ground. She lowered her wand. Her face changed as she appraised Lucius. Draco didn't see his strong and relentless mother who had fought through everything. He saw a teenage girl, who had married the man she loved and then lost him to something she couldn't fight. Draco lost his ability to breath for a moment. He had never seen his mother like this.

"What do you mean?" her voice was soft and innocent.

Lucius looked a little hopeful at the change of tone. He didn't stand up, but he managed to sit a little straighter.

"When we first got married, what did you want more than anything?"

Narcissa ran a hand through her tanged hair. "I wanted a child…." She responded slowly.

Lucius took a deep breath before speaking. "Cissy," his voice was the gentlest Draco had ever heard it. He looked straight in her face. "I couldn't have children."

Narcissa's jaw dropped. Draco tried to point out that his presence proved the opposite, but he decided that probably wasn't the best idea.

Narcissa took a step towards Lucius. "What?" she barely whispered it.

Lucius stared at the ground. "I couldn't have children. I couldn't give you what you wanted the most in the world. It killed me inside, knowing how much you wanted this. I couldn't tell you. I knew it would've destroyed you. So I began to look for a way to fix it, fix me."

Draco's mind was running on overdrive. His father couldn't have children…. Narcissa wanted children. Lucius wanted to give them to her. Suddenly, click. Everything fell into place. Draco knew what had happened.

Lucius looked back up at Narcissa. "It's dark magic, Cissy, I hadn't realized. Becoming un-sterile is unnatural. It's complicated magic, nothing I could accomplish on my own. As soon as I realized that, I knew what I had to do."

Lucius sighed. "The Dark Lord promised me the cure. If I worked for him for seven years, he would cure me. He wanted a Malfoy. We were rich, cunning, and very influential. He needed me on his side to help with the infiltration of the ministry and the upper class of society. And lucky for him, he had something I needed desperately."

Narcissa looked as if she was about to pass out. Her eyes were open wide and she was trembling. Lucius continued his tale.

"So, I agreed. I'd work for him. Then at the end of seven years, we could have a child. Did you ever realize that the day Draco was conceived was exactly seven years after I joined the Death Eaters? That's the reason. That was the only reason."

"My original plan was to wait out the seven years, get the cure, and then leave with you. We would've gone far away and raised our son far away from the terrors of our world at the time. But I got in too deep. I began to like hurting the inferior, instead of just doing it because I needed to. I began to strive for power everywhere. I truly became a death eater."

"It was only around you, Cissy, that I felt like the man I once was. But, as the years dragged on, I even began to want power when it came to you. I wouldn't let you leave the manor without my permission because it made me feel powerful. When that began, I knew that I was gone."

"I didn't want to be that man, Cissy, I didn't. I wanted to be the man you fell in love with. I could see it in your eyes, you loved me. I couldn't bear it though, after how horrible I'd become. I grew hateful, trying to hate everyone else instead of myself. It was useless though. I ended up hating everyone else as well as myself."

"Then the seven years were up. The Dark Lord bestowed upon me the cure. We could finally have a child. But, when the moment came for me to decide whether to stay with the Dark Lord or not, I chose to stay. It had become such a part of me. It had been a drug. It was poisonous, evil and unnatural. But I couldn't live without it."

"I went home that night, and we finally were able to conceive our child. When you realized you were pregnant, you were filled with a blinding happiness that I hadn't known existed. I could see it on your face every time you looked at me. And I had made you that happy. I began to think to myself, maybe I wasn't that terrible if I had managed to make you that happy. I felt the old Lucius returning, though not all of me. I was too far gone."

"Then, the un-thinkable happened. The Dark Lord vanished, thanks to our friend Harry Potter. I became terrified. I had done some deplorable things in my time as a death eater. The Dark Lord was my only protection. Azkaban seemed like my future. Fear filled me. I had become so emotionless, filled with only hate and a lust for power. Fear was the first human emotion I had felt in a long time. It grounded me. I became myself again."

"But then, I wasn't sent to Azkaban. The fear disappeared. Then all that was left was the hate and power-lust. I was lost. And I hated myself for it. I hated myself for becoming this person. But then I began to try and hate myself less. I shifted the blame. And I shifted the blame to Draco."

Draco started. He had been listening to his father's story without other thought. But at his father's words, he lost focus.

Lucius shot him a look. His eyes were filled with self-hatred. "I hated him. I blamed him for me going dark. I figured it was his fault because the original reason was to un-sterilize myself."

Lucius pulled himself to his feet. He was wearing the face of a man who had finally given up. He was broken. Draco could see it. Yet, he spoke on.

Lucius took a deep breath and looked at Narcissa. "I joined the death eaters to give you a child. I wanted to give you your dream. I wanted you to be the happiest person in the world. I wanted you to love me even more than you already did. Then I lost myself, and I ruined us and our lives. It was all my fault, and I hate myself everyday because of it. If I can, I will fight everyday to make it up to you. I will leave and never see you again if that's what you want. I will throw myself off a cliff. I will do anything. Because that's how much I love you."

He used the present tense.

Narcissa was standing as still as a statue. There were tears streaming down her face. She began to shake, trying to control herself. Then she gave up. She let all the tears go. She took a few steps forward and latched herself onto Lucius, holding on to her true love. Holding onto her one and only.

Draco lowered his wand. He looked at his two parents holding each other. He felt something stir deep inside of himself. They were whispering quietly to each other. Narcissa was beaming, her tear streaked face seemed to be glowing. Lucius's face had lost all of the lines and hollowness it had received in Azkaban. He didn't look like the man he had pre-Azkaban. His face was fuller, more wholesome, more fatherly. At that thought, Draco realized something.

He was looking at what his family would have been like without Voldemort and the issue of Lucius's sterile state. This would've been his life if the Dark Lord hadn't infiltrated their home. His mother would have glowed like that every day. She would've always had the man she loved. Lucius would've treated her like the queen she was. He would've been a good father to Draco. Draco saw it now. The Lucius who was clutching his mother and crying would've been a good father. The love between his parents would've filled his life. They would've loved him nearly as much as they loved each other. Instead of a life of hate, it would've been love.

Draco felt a crushing sadness. He felt his eyes stinging as he held back tears. He eventually let the tears flow freely down his face, manliness be damned. He wept that day, standing with Hermione, watching his parents finally find each other again. He wept for what he had almost had. He wept for his lost life. He wept for the love he and his family had been deprived of. He wept for the childhood he had always wanted.

Draco took a few steps forward, leaving Hermione behind him. His mother and father opened his arms, and pulled him into a hug. There the Malfoys stood, all crying for different reasons. One for what they had found, one for what they had lost, and one for what they had never had to begin with that. In that moment, holding each other in the kitchen of Malfoy manor, they became a family.

After a few minutes they drew back. Lucius was still holding his mother, who was glowing. Lucius was smiling, a radiant, blinding smile. Draco was happy for the two of them. Then he remembered the circumstances.

"Dad," he said, addressing Lucius. The word dad felt foreign on his tongue, but natural at the same time. "What happened at Azkaban?"

Lucius grew solemn. "The Dementors were always more partial to the Dark Lord. Yaxley is a madman, but managed to convince them to step aside. And they did. For everyone."

Yaxley. Goddamn it. "Dad, this is important, do you know what Yaxley wants?"

"You know the answer already, Draco," Lucius replied. He turned and looked back at Hermione, who had been watching the scene with a gentle smile. "You are in grave danger, Miss Granger. You and my son need to go somewhere safer, immediately." Lucius had smiled when he had said 'my son'.

Draco turned to look at his father. "The manor has impenetrable wards. Where else would we be safer?"

Lucius shook his head. "Nothing is impenetrable, my son. Everything can break. No walls are solid. Nothing is permanent. Yaxley would head here first. He's seen the papers."

Draco's heart began to pound. His father was an amazing wizard. If he said Yaxley could break down the wards, Yaxley could break down the wards. Draco thought quickly, where would they go?

Hermione walked up behind him and grabbed his hand. He pulled her close to him.

"It's going to be fine," he murmured, stroking her hair.

Naricssa spoke up then. "Draco, you need more than magical barriers for Hermione. Yaxley is a madman. He could break any wall you put up. You need man power. You need people who will defend Hermione until their dying breath. You need…."

Narcissa was cut off then, for a shrilling noise had filled the air. Draco jumped about a metre in the air, and immediately pulled his wand back out.

It was the alarm for the wards.

"They're here," Draco said quickly, pulling Hermione close to him. Lucius did the same to Narcissa.

"Draco, you need to leave," his mother told him.

"What about you?" he asked her. He didn't want his parents to be left to the will of death eaters.

Narcissa smiled and looked at Lucius. "Lucius and I can go somewhere. We'll be fine." Lucius smiled down at his wife. It was amazing how different he looked than when he had first stumbled through the doorway.

Draco nodded. They would be alright as long as they left. But what would they do? Where would they go? His mother was right, they needed more than magical barriers. To beat Yaxley, they needed to fight with emotion. They needed those who would fight for Hermione because it was Hermione. They needed that protection, it was the only way she'd be safe…..

Fuck.

Draco sighed. "I know where to go. But we need to go now." Hermione nodded and wrapped herself around him.

Draco turned to his parents. "I hope to see you soon."

Narcissa nodded. Draco's mother and father smiled at him, love filling their faces.

"Good bye Draco," they said in almost perfect unison.

The four of them apparated away then, just as the wards at Malfoy manor fell.

Draco and Hermione landed in a square deep in London. Draco looked at all the townhouses surrounded the unkempt grassy square in the middle. He led Hermione up through one of the gates of a townhouse right in front of them. He then led her up the steps. He knocked on the door thrice, looking from side to side, making sure they were safe.

Hopefully Yaxley wouldn't come to number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Review y'all