Summary: "You're nothing." And she knew it. After an unresolved fight amongst the Golden Trio, Draco ends up helping Hermione get over her dependence.
Draco Malfoy wanted answers.
One month ago, Weasel erupted, like usual, at Granger. Of course, Scarhead took Weasel's side. They had a habit of making the whole school aware of their petty problems, but it would typically die down. Not this time. Apparently Potter and his sidekick were still snubbing Granger a month after the fact, going so far as to sit three to a table at two person desks to avoid sitting with Granger. The rules obviously didn't matter. Naturally, Potter could get away with it. Except for Snape's class. Draco smirked.
How could anyone just accept the fallout amongst the Golden Trio? Sure, Gryffindors were known for their rashness, but chivalry should play a part in making them come back on bent knees. Groveling for forgiveness was what they did best. He'd heard enough about Wormtail's begging to teach him that.
It didn't really matter. Draco knew he should put it out of his mind, but it bothered him that he couldn't predict their moves as well as he'd thought. What kind of Slytherin can't plan the way an event will turn out?
So when he found himself ready to leave the library, it hit him to ask Granger. It's not like she had anything better to do; she was an outcast after all. He glanced around the room, and spotted her just where she had been two hours earlier.
She was sitting there, nibbling on her lips while scratching on her parchment. But it wasn't the same. The light in her eyes had been extinguished. Her hand did not fly across the page as it once had, instead reduced to a lethargic crawl.
He slid into a chair at her table, but she didn't notice.
"Granger," hissed Draco.
She didn't reply.
He wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or not. Perhaps she hadn't heard?
"Granger," he said.
Hermione looked up, and her eyes were wide before they melted into a defiant stare. She clenched her quill, prepared for battle.
"What do you want Malfoy?"
"I have a few questions to ask."
"What makes you think I want to answer your questions? I have papers to write, and there's that quiz in Transfiguration in three da-"
"Do you really think everyone doesn't know you do all of your assignments weeks in advance? I'm sure you have plenty of time for a couple of questions."
"Fine. Go on, ask," she conceded.
He paused. He'd gone into this a bit impulsively. Now, what was he going to ask her again?
"Well? If you're not going to ask, I'd rather do some of that early work I'm known for."
"Hasn't anyone ever taught you patience, Granger? 'Good things come to those who wait.' No, I think I'll make you wait a little longer." Draco smirked.
Hermione huffed. She pulled herself back into her work, but he could tell she couldn't concentrate. It made his smirk widen.
"I'm not one for beating around the bush, Granger. What happened last month?"
She tensed. Draco could tell. He was watching her reactions closely for any clues she was unwilling to voice.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," he drawled, "all of Hogwarts knows about that row you had with Potter and the Weasel. You're all very good at fighting, but you can't keep your chummy feelings locked away more than a week." He shuddered. "What happened this time?"
"That's none of your concern," Hermione hissed.
"Really? I'm not the one who yelled all those words for the whole school to hear. You've made it my concern."
"Sorry to burst your bubble, Malfoy, but I wasn't the one shouting. You can go ask Ron." Her breath hitched.
Draco shuddered. "Are you daft? Just seeing red hair makes me gag." He made a retching motion. "No, I'll stick with you. And anyway, they're probably the ones who spread those rumors that you lied to them."
"Would you stop it? Are you so unaware of human relationships as to mock fun of my friendship with them?" She paused. "Oh, right. A cowering Death Eater, one who went to Azkaban for being unable to defeat children, raised you. And your mother. She-"
"Leave my mother out of this," he snarled. "You don't know anything about her. But I do know you, and you're nothing."
And she knew it.
The words died on her lips. How could she judge anyone when she herself was so torn up about a fight with her friends? She was the one who decided not to apologize for once. And yet, here she was, acting so melancholy because the Golden Trio was broken up for the moment.
Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry, Malfoy."
He choked out, "It's fine."
They sat there in silence.
Draco felt a little bad. Sure, she was reduced to nothing from a simple fight, but it wasn't his place to bring it up.
He stood up to go. "You're nothing, but you don't need anyone to be something." After a glance at Hermione, he quickly walked away.
She took his words in slowly, but she realized that they were true. When she resumed scratching at her parchment, her movement returned to the feverish one it had always been before.
^_^
That's it. The fan girl in me is screaming for fluff, but I'm sorry, I cannot offer it. I hope you enjoyed it at least a little.