Shake the Glitter

Draco stumbled a little, catching his composure as his feet slid against the hard marble floor. He tucked his wand back inside his coat pocket and observed the room he was in. It was dark but the light from the hallway flooded in through the cracked doors, illuminating the wall adjacent to it. A cup of tea was on the small table by the fireplace. He touched it; It was still warm.
Malfoy Manor had always had an off-putting feel to it, even when he was younger. It was his home but he couldn't help but feel unwelcome whenever he stepped foot inside. A big part of him felt as if it were his father who made it feel like that. Contrary to popular belief, him and his father never got along that well. When they made their public appearances, they'd put on a show, but when they returned home, he'd receive his beatings as if he were a common house elf.
Which made Draco resent his father. He hated him with every fiber of his being. The only family member he really adored was his mother. After his father would get done with him, his mother would pick up the pieces and do her best to mend him. His father was the reason he became who he is; stone. Unloving and uncaring. The epitome of his father and everyone like him. He could always count on his Aunt Belatrix for a comforting shoulder, if she were in a giving mood.

Malfoy crept to the doors, fitting his figure through the crack and out into the hall. He made sure not to get caught as he wandered the halls, searching for the only person who could help him. He spotted her platinum hair as he came upon the library. "Mother."

Narcissa spun around on her heel, dropping her book. "Draco? Sweetheart, what are you doing here?"

"I need your help." Malfoy stammered, speaking quickly. "Pansy, where is she?"

"The Parkinson girl? Sweetheart, why are you looking for her?"

"I just need to know where she is! Please, I don't have much time."

Narcissa shook her head. "Draco, maybe you had better talk to your father about this."

"No, I can't. I'm asking you." Malfoy sighed, running his fingers through his disheveled locks. "I can do this with or without your help, mother. But, without will take longer."

"Sweetheart," Narcissa bit her lip. "I think you know where she's hiding out at."

"So, you know?"

"Yes."

"How long have you known about this, mother?" Malfoy's gaze hardened.

"Since the Dark Lord gave the orders." She grabbed his shoulders, pleading with him. "Honey, you and I both know this isn't something you should be mixing yourself up in. Go back to school. Be safe. Just forget about this."

"I can't!" Malfoy growled, his eyes blazing. "Are they here? Is she here?"

"They're with your father and her parents. Interrupting them wouldn't be a smart thing. You should go back to school before he knows you're here."

Malfoy knew exactly who she was talking about. "He probably knew I was coming before I did. Just tell me why. Why did he give the orders?"

"The Parkinson girl came to him one day with information of a spy at the school. And, having no tolerance for spies, the Dark Lord gave the order to... " Narcissa sighed, running her thumbs over his hands. "Draco, dear, why are you so interested in this? You should be glad. There's one less distraction for us."

"Ashley wasn't a spy, mother! Pansy was jealous, she lied. An innocent girl is dying and you want to celebrate?"

"What are you talking about, dear? Ashley who?"

"Quille."

"Quille? A Gryffindor?" She furrowed her brow. "Draco, what are you talking about? Jealous of what?"

"Of me," Malfoy fell back into one of the chairs. "And, Ashley Quille. Pansy was jealous of her and wanted her gone. But, I can still save her! She's not dead, just cursed. If you can help me, mother, she won't die."

"Oh, honey. I--"

"Please, spare me with your worries of father."

"I just think it would be bad for you if your father knew you were involved with a Quille. Her father and yours don't get on so well, Draco. You know that."

"Please?"

Narcissa jumped when she heard voices down the hall. She scurried over to her son and pulled him up, shaking him slightly. "Go, now. Go back to school."

"But, moth--"

"I'll send you an owl later, Draco. If I find out anything at all, I'll tell you. I promise you, dear. But, for now, you must go back to school."

Malfoy nodded, grabbing his wand. His mother leaned over and pecked his cheek, smiling softly at him, before he muttered the spell to bring him back to Hogwarts.

He landed with a thud in the Slytherin Common Room. It was after hours, but he had a feeling someone was awake in the Hospital Wing.

He only knew one thing. He had to speak to Hermione Granger.