Outweighing the Prejudice
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in this story. They all belong to J.K. Rowling, the genius who created the series.
Pairing: Hermione/Draco
Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Romance
She didn't do it because she hated herself, believe it or not.
It wasn't her fault that she was muggle-born, that she was looked down upon by older wizarding families. She actually liked being different. After all, different was better than boring and average. She was still good at being a witch no matter what her parentage, so no. That's definitely not why she did it.
She did it because of them.
Because of all those who hurt her for being who she was. She was a smart girl. She'd read about wizards who were still prejudiced about muggle-born's even to this very day. But she never dreamed she'd actually face the hate.
Accomplished wizards who worked at the Ministry of Magic. She saw their true colors when it came to non-magic born people when she, Harry, and Ron broke into the Ministry all those years ago. She remembered the disgust. The way they were being treated. Like dirt. On the same level as house elves (bless their little hearts). Scum on the bottom of their shoes. Dragon dung. Worthless trash. Oh, God forbid, even blast-ended skrewts deserved more liberty than her in their opinion.
A dirty, filthy little muggle.
Not everyone thought of her this way, she knew. The kids at Hogwarts (not counting most Slytherins) didn't care a bit that she was muggle-born. Many of them were themselves. It was never an issue there, not counting the wizarding war between Harry and You-Know-Who during what would have been her seventh year at Hogwarts, had she not been out finding horcruxes with him and Ron. And their were plenty of nice, kind, wizarding families. Even old ones who were accepting, like the Weasley's. The un-prejudice wizards outweighed the prejudice, but still... she wanted to be like everyone else, with at least an ounce of clean blood in her. Even just a little...
It wouldn't have even mattered to her at all. Not a bit that some people hated muggle-borns had it not been for Malfoy. Of course, in her first year she didn't even know what the big deal about being born of muggles was about, but by the next year, second year, she had read about prejudice in the wizarding world 2.000 years ago and saw that her kind weren't treated very well. By fifth year, she had started to have feelings for Malfoy. It hurt everytime he and his goons teased her, hurt her, or called her that despicable word. Mudblood.
By sixth year, she was fully in love with him, call her crazy. Always, the Slytherins called her buck-toothed or bushy haired, though that wasn't the case anymore. No, by sixth year, she was actually quite nice looking. She thought she might have a chance with him, Malfoy. But no. If she didn't have anything in her appearance to fix, then she was still filthy. He would still never love her. Heck, he'd never like her. He at least addressed Harry and Ron. Never spoke directly to her unless it was to insult her. She felt just like muggle-born witches and wizards must have 2,000 years ago, and it didn't seem right. She remembered what his reaction was when he noticed her newly shrunk teeth in sixth year, (she had shrunk them in forth year, but of course, he wouldn't have noticed) and her wild hair that was noticeably tamed.
" Looks like Granger finally decided what an ugly loser she was and tried to fix up her appearance." He nudged his friends, who all snickered. Pansy Parkingson, who Malfoy was dating (which made her hate her even more) shrieked with laughter.
" Impressive." He looked smug." I won't deny you look a hell of a lot better. But," He had stooped down to whisper in her ear. " No matter how much you try and change. You'll always be a disgusting, dirty, filthy little mudblood." When her eyes filled with tears, he smirked. Looking gleeful. Happy. Satisfied.
Not an ounce of sympathy.
And yet she still loved him.
Harry thought he had become a death eater that year. Hermione hoped to God that he wasn't. She really did. She knew he was evil, terrible, spiteful. Sickeningly spiteful, oh, yes. But never a death eater.
But he was.
If she was anymore sure ever in her life that Draco Malfoy would never love her, it was then.
Then of course, when she was tortured that day at Malfoy manor. He looked cold. Afraid, yes. Hermione always knew he never had it in him to be a death eater. But he would never lose that coldness. That hatred towards muggle-borns.
He'd always hate her.
After Harry defeated You-Know-Who...Voldemort, a few months later, she thought he would change.
No.
He still hated her.
He married Astoria Greengrass a few years later. She knew all along it was too good to be true. She was still 'mudblood filth' no matter what. Voldemort or no Voldemort.
She had married Ron, who she loved. More as a best friend than a lover.
That day at Kings Cross, he nodded to Harry and Ron. They were okay, he was telling them. They would be tolerated. They saved his neck in the battle that took place at Hogwarts nineteen years ago. They nodded back. She tried to catch his eye, but as usual, he wouldn't look at her. Not when she was still who she was. Filth. They had all seen their kids off and were heading back through the barrier, she finally caught his eye.
She smiled slightly.
He glared.
" Mudblood," He muttered to his wife, who looked her over nastily.
" Disgusting." She agreed.
She didn't tell this to Harry and Ron. She didn't want to give them a reason for hating Malfoy. Let them feel like they made the right choice for saving him.
Her eyes filled with tears, a grown woman, crying over the fact that this terrible man, a death eater who hated everything from her blood status to her brain power. How could she be so stupid? Why couldn't she stop loving him?
That's how she ended up here. On top of the roof of the Ministry of Magic.
She had been planning her own death for weeks. She didn't care if all other wizards didn't mind her being muggle-born. She didn't care that she had a husband, and children and Harry, her best friend. All of those people who she had been friends with almost thirty years ago didn't matter to her if the one person whom she'd always wanted to like her didn't care for her.
She stepped up near the edge of the building. Looking down, she saw the empty streets that usually weren't bustling this time of the day. She thought that was good. Nobody would have to see her kill herself. She reached for her wand in her front pocket. She snapped it perfectly in half with simple motion. With out a second look, she dropped it off the building. That's what she was after all. A dead wizard. Just like house elves and other lower creatures, she didn't deserve a wand. She was filthy.
She heard it clunk to the ground with a satisfied half smile.
Time to die.
" What are you doing?" Came a voice from behind her.
She turned and saw Malfoy. He had grown into an attractive adult. Tall, still pale and pointed. His spectacular gray eyes still had that hint of superiority in them. Something she'd always liked about him.
" I've decided to end my disgusting life." She answered, without a hint of regret in her voice. " I know you'll be happy. You've been waiting for this since first year." She turned to smirk at him.
She was shocked to his face had gone white. Whiter than usual.
" Y-You get down from there! Are you crazy? You'll die, you stupid mudblood!" His eyes were wide and frantic. He moved closer to her, and she moved nearer to the edge.
" Don't come any closer, or I'll jump." She threatened lazily.
He whipped out his wand. " Stay where you are!" He ordered, eyes sill bugging.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. " I'm jumping if you don't put that away."
" You're mad! I never would have thought you of all people would do something so foolish!" His arm shaking, he put the wand back into his jacket
" One more thing I want to say to you before I go," She said before facing back to the front. " I'm doing this for you."
" What the hell does that mean?" He shouted.
" It means, it's your attitude that inspired me to go through with this. I don't hate myself. Never have, and never will I get a chance to in the future," She motioned toward the street below her.
" But I do hate people who are prejudiced against muggle-borns. Everyone of them, except you."
He looked confused.
" I've had a crush on you since fifth year," She explained hastily, looking at her watch. If it got too late she wouldn't have time to do it before witnesses showed up. She wanted it to be just her and Malfoy when she died.
" By sixth year I was in love with you. Still am."
" But you're married to Weasley!" He said, looking panicky now because of how close she was to the edge.
" I married him because he's my friend and he loves me. I care about him. I've saved his life more than a handful of times. We've been through a lot together. I married him so I could get over you." She felt gleeful. This was exactly what she wanted. He was trying so hard to remain calm. Why was that? Did he really care if she killed herself, or did he just not want to be the reason of any suicide?
" Anyway, when you became a death eater and your aunt tortured me, I saw how disgusting being a mudblood really is. I'm practically a muggle. Why should I have magic powers? All my life I thought they were a fairy tale anyway. I lived ten years thinking I was nothing. But then I was accepted into Hogwarts and I found I was a witch. I don't deserve to be one." She added as an afterthought.
" You're doing this because of me?" He exploded. " Just because I called you a few names?"
" No," She replied calmly. " Not really just for you. For all those who hate brainy, ugly little mudblood bitches. I'll make the world a better place by leaving it."
" But all of your friends love you and care about you! You have freaking children!" He bellowed, stepping a bit forward.
She moved her foot over the edge of the building again. " Move back," She ordered and he did.
" I know my family and friends appreciate me. That's how your little master met his downfall anyway, all of my brain work. I've saved everyone of my friend's neck at some point in their lives. At least I know someone will miss me when I gone and that's comforting." She smiled cruelly. " But that's all taken care of," She said, her cruel smirk, now a sad smile. " I've left my will and a few things they can remember me by at home. I'm sure they'll find it satisfactory. After a while, they won't even notice I've left."
Deciding that she was done talking to Malfoy, she stepped back a little so that she could meet her death by a run.
" STOP!" He screamed again.
She turned, looking cross.
" What now?"
" You can't do this!" He got to his knees, pleading." I love you, you stupid mudblood! Why don't you understand that?"
She rolled her eyes at him. " Don't fuck with me-"
" I mean it! I've been in love with you since third year!" He looked so earnest and sincere she almost believed him. Almost.
" Oh, you mean the same year you called me a mudblood in front of the shrieking shack?"
" I was raised that way, muggle! Don't you get it? If I showed you how I really felt, then my father would have disinherited me!"
" Oh, boohoo-" She started.
" I mean it! And just think what would have happened if I told them I loved you in seventh year. The Dark Lord would have killed me!"
" I didn't blame you for your ignorance back then, Malfoy. That's why I loved you so strongly. I blame you now. You're a grown adult. Nobody dictates you anymore. Not you're parents, not Voldemort-"
" My blood-line! I can't reproduce with a-"
" Mudblood? Why not?"
" It would destroy the Malfoy tradition!"
She gave him a look of disbelief. " Whatever." She looked at her watch again. The wind was picking up. Making her wild hair (she had not combed it today. Not on her dying day. She wanted to look just as she did in first year when they found her body later) fly.
" Astoria and I are divorcing." He announced quietly. She heard him though.
" Oh? That's nice. Good luck with that."
" I want to be with you," He said, quieter still.
She rolled her eyes. " Still not very bright are you after all these years? I'm married to Ronald."
" Divorce him!"
" No! I may be in love with you, but Ron is my friend and he doesn't treat me like dirt!"
" You're always arguing with him!"
" Yes, but never about anything serious. Ron comes from an old pure-blooded wizarding family too, and he's never called me a mudblood once. Never. And he's in love with me and I won't hurt him. Especially not before I kill myself."
" You won't kill yourself, you hear me? I want you, for God's sake!"
" It's too late for that, now!" She screeched. " I'm dead. There's no escaping that. Goodbye, Malfoy. And good riddance. For both of us. "
And then she jumped.
A/N: I didn't originally plan to end it so abruptly like this. I was going to do Draco's POV, but I thought that would seem out of place. Should I write a second part with what Draco's thinking and what happens after Hermione dies? Tell me in your review!
