Prayer Of The Refugee
Disclaimer: I don't own anything save the plot. Most things belong to J.K. Rowling, except the title and the titles of the chapters, which I will rip from different artists. The name of my story being the song title of a band called Rise Against!
A/N: All set in Hermione's POV, unless you are informed otherwise by me. This is my first Harry Potter FanFic, so I would really appreciate some feedback by way of reviews. Please. And thanks.
Dedicated to Chelsey and Sarah!
So far, the year had gone better than I had expected it to, not that I try to think of the negatives of school. Draco had been almost civil most of the time, probably because he didn't want to lose his "high position". But, mostly we just stayed away from each other when we weren't performing or discussing our duties.
He still abused his power a lot of the time of course, especially with the little Gryffindors. I scolded him repeatedly, but why I even try to change him, I don't know. He will always be a haughty jerk.
Lately, though, he hadn't been putting his all into anything, really. He left the jerk-being to his fellow Slytherins, and had become rather withdrawn. I just assumed it was because Christmas time was coming up and he had no family to be with. His father was in Azkaban – serves him right!- and his mother was at his grandmothers. I overheard him complaining to Pansy that his grandparents didn't like him, and that they wanted him to stay at Hogwarts during the break, but his mother had insisted that he join them.
I didn't feel bad for him, why should I have? He deserved to be disliked, but that was a bit harsh coming from some of the only family you have left.
My parents, the ones who love me dearly, had gone on a ski trip to Germany, without me, for the holidays. How nice. Oh, well. I had some studying to do and I really wanted to get through a few good books. Ron and Harry were heading back to the Burrow. I was invited but I declined. I rather liked to be alone. I wanted to see what it felt like to have the common room that I usually shared with Malfoy, to myself.
Christmas was in three days, but I wasn't that excited, seeing as how I didn't get to share it with anyone really. The holidays had started two days ago, and I was already getting a bored. I enjoyed all of the extra space and freedom I had. I could walk around in my jimjams, which usually consist of loose cotton or silky pants and a spaghetti strap top, and not worry about being seen by Malfoy. In fact, I did this a lot of the time. I would lounge around on the couches in the common room, in different random positions, and read for pleasure, or getting ahead in schoolwork, which was also a pleasure for me.
By the end of my third day alone, I was bored out of my mind, even though I would regularly leave my rooms to eat, or take a stroll around the castle or grounds. I missed Ron and Harry and Ginny and everyone I talk to. At one point, while I was trying to get into a really boring book, I even found myself missing those snide remarks, which so often came from the mouth of that awful boy. I, just for a moment, missed the way he would look me right in the eyes with those steely-grey orbs of his and how I could see all of the hate and confusion that hid behind his air of confidence. But, after realizing what I was doing, I smacked myself on the forehead and shook it from my mind. It was so frustrating being alone for so long. I often found myself staring out of a window, or at the fire, or anywhere for that matter. But, the scary part was, that my mind was inert; in a different place entirely, and I had no idea where it kept wandering off to.
By the time Christmas came and went, my mood had barely shifted. In fact, after Christmas it may have gotten better because it meant that there was only nine days left until someone came back to entertain me. I was in an unhappy mood the night after Christmas, so I put on some really low, sad music in the background and sat down to read a depressing book - about a girl whose family died and she was left to fend for herself – by firelight. It was just past midnight when I let out a giant yawn. It had been a fairly long day, even for my standards, so I put the book down, extinguished the fire, and made my way to bed.
It was around half-past one that I was awoken by what sounded like scuffling in the common room. I sat bolt upright in my bed and clutched at my wand. The noise continued; it definitely was not my imagination. I slowly removed the covers from my body and lifted myself down from my queen-sized bed. It was awfully cold outside of my warm comforter, but I didn't bother to put a robe on.
I crept out of my room and on to the landing above the common room. I don't know what I was expecting to see, but all it was, of course, was blackness. The noise I had heard at first had stopped, but I could faintly hear short, provoked breaths coming from somewhere in the darkness. I descended the spiraling stairs as slowly and as softly as possible when one's heart is pounding, threatening to rip open their chest.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my breaths became quick and a film of sweat betokened my brow.
"Lumos." I whispered, rather hoarsely, for my mouth was quite dry.
The tip of my wand lit up and my familiar common room was teeming with dim light, from corner to corner. At first, I saw and heard nothing, which would have put me at ease if it had stayed that way, but the raspy breaths came again. I was, however, unable to locate the source of the gasps.
Finally my eyes settled on a mound of crumpled robes that lay half on and half off of the couch in front of the quenched fire. I hesitated for a moment, shocked that there was someone, and a student nonetheless, in my dorm in the middle of the night. After quickly composing myself over the initial astonishment, I lit the fire with an expert wave of my wand and the room filled with brighter light than my wand before it had sufficed.
The black mass did not move, except for the heaving of his chest (for I had already deduced that it was a he). I took this as a bad sign and eliminated the remaining distance between him and myself at a sprint.
Slightly panicking, I tried to roll him back on to the couch, which was where, I assumed, he was trying to get to in the first place. After succeeding at this extremely difficult (for he was bigger than me; I could feel his shapely muscles as I attempted to shift him) task, I took a look to see who it was. I immediately recognized the shimmer of his hair and the shape of those lips that usually bore a smirk. It was he, whose snide comments I found myself missing just hours before. I jumped back in shock.
"Malfoy!?" I screamed. His eyes fluttered open and settled on my face, before they rolled back into his head. A pathetic "uh" escaped his lips and he fell into exhausted unconsciousness.
"But you're not supposed to be back for another eight days." I muttered to myself as a frown drew my eyebrows together.
A/N: Next chapter is way better! Don't forget to review, my dearies.