AN: So this is a differnt type of story, I wanted to only do multiple Veela stories but I thought what the hay lets try this. So this isn't Cannon ( I think that's the word, I've seen people use it. Like where it isn't in sync completely with the timing of the books and movies and stuff.) Its just a few months difference in 6th year. I hope you guys enjoy it, you'll find out more about it as you read on, the summery was fairly vague due to limited characters. Anyway I hope you all enjoy. Rated M just in case of future chapters, language and graphic scenes.
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, as much as I wish I was that amazing and creative I am not. But I can always dream. :)
Read on dear readers, reviews are welcome but I appreciate them if they are of the kind nature and respect authors artistic rights. I've seen some nasty reviews and I am so scared of getting one of those lol I am a pansy. (No not Parkinson.)
Come To Me.
Chapter 1:
Hermione felt like her chest was going to explode, her throat felt so tight it hurt to swallow. All she had wanted was to talk to Ron, simply ask if he wanted to hang out with her; but apparently that was too much. Lavender made Hermione looking like an idiot, she had informed her that 'Won Won' was her boyfriend and that if Hermione knew any better she would just leave them alone, instead of looking like a lost puppy. Hermione tried throwing her fair share of insults her way, about how she was aware and knew Lavender and Ron were dating to which Ron said in such a gentlemanly manner 'Of course you do. You bloody know-it-all.' Then Lavendar laughed in her sickenly high pitched voice, telling Ron he shouldn't waste his time on Hermione. Ron hadn't even said anything in regard to that, no, he just shrugged it off and went back to snogging her, right in front of Hermione.
It seemed as though all those years of friendship were not as important and a good snog. Harry hadn't been around at the time, Hermione knew that if he had he would have been livid with Ron for being such an idiot. But the scene that was made would have been drastically bigger if the two boys went head to head. It was upsetting though because they were the only ones she truly trusted out of everyone in her life, apart from some Professors. Granted she had her secrets that she kept from them, those ones were her burden to bear, but she put her trust in them that they would never hurt her. Now it seemed she had been wrong about one of the boys, in particular the red head.
Hermione should have been hanging out with her friends, but instead she found herself running through the halls with tears flowing freely and feeling like she was going to pass out. She bumped into people who had called after her worriedly, but she paid them no mind. Her destination to be the girls lavatory on the first floor, also knows as Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Hermione went there for many things; brewing polyjuice potion in second year, reading time, crying time after the incident with her mother and father. No one dared enter into the bathroom because they found Myrtle too annoying with her wailing cries, sometimes Hermione just visited the poor girl because she was always crying. The alone time helped though, she would be able to get the tears out and regain control over her emotions and no one would know someone was in there crying, they all just assumed it was Myrtle.
With a final loud sob Hermione ripped off her tie, buttons popping off her dress shirt, and pushed through the bathroom door. She heard a whimpering gasp and silenced her own tears as the sound echoed sadly through the space. No doubt Myrtle was reliving all the horrible drama from the day of her death, it had to be tragic really. If Hermione had died a sudden death and had become trapped in a girls bathroom for an eternity alone apart, from the occasional people that stopped by and the bullies that poked fun at the dead girl, she would cry too.
"Myrtle, are you alrig-" Hermione rounded the corner and went deeper into the bathroom, freezing when she saw Draco Malfoy leaning over the sink, his chest heavy and eyes watery and wide when he spotted her in the mirror.
Draco turned around quickly regaining his composure without so much as a clearing of a throat. "What are you looking at Mud-." He stopped when he took in her appearance.
She looked as shocked and embarrassed as he was, obviously she hadn't been trying to be nosey was not expecting anyone to be in the bathroom. It was far different then his quick assumptions. Her eyes were red and puffy, her checks blotchy and glistening with tears, and her nose a was a tender pink. She didn't have her normal bag on her, the only thing she had was her tie in her hands. Her shirt was no longer buttoned cleanly, buttons were ripped off and missing now, the pieces of thread in their place moving with each breath she took. The shirt was open at the top because of this, and he saw a little below her collarbone, which was something he had never witnessed before. Hermione Granger was a dishevelled sad mess and he couldn't bring himself to hurt her anymore than what she already was.
"I'm sorry." She mumbled, turning to leave.
"Granger wait." Draco sighed right before she had reached the door. "You are obviously having as bad of a day as I am."
"I won't speak about seeing you to anyone." she whispered, turning around to face him with a hint of fear in her eyes.
Was she afraid? Of him? Draco was appalled, granted he had given her no reason to trust him but he wouldn't be so rude as to attack her right now; or ever really if he thought about it. He briefly wondered what happened that would make her react in such a way, or what she was thinking. The longer he stared at her the less he could make himself be angry with her, or call her names or ever hurt her again. In fact he felt ashamed for doing it all these years suddenly, and he never wanted to be the cause of such hurt again. She looked so fragile now it weighed down on him, momentarily heavier pain than what he was going through.
"Don't worry about it." He cleared his throat awkwardly, "I'm sorry."
Hermione's eyes snapped up from her downcast gaze and the chocolate brown met the molten silver. "You have nothing to be sorry about." She replied skeptically, feeling an awkward change in the atmosphere. She was staring at him carefully, waiting for the moment when he went back to the old Draco, the one that was calloused and mean.
"No, not for that. Everything else. For almost calling you a Mudblood, and all the times that I did. For anything that might have hurt you." He felt his whole body go tense with his need for her to accept this, for someone to finally see good in him for once.
"It doesn't matter. Bye." Hermione was full of shock. Never would she have imagined that Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin, head of being a dick; would have been nicer to her than Ron and that thought caused more tears to spring to her eyes.
"Granger," He called before she left.
"What Malfoy? What do you want?" She sighed defeated.
Draco grabbed his bag, attempting at a smile, "Lets go for a walk."
Hermione stared at him for a few moments, her mouth opened like a fish. She almost laughed at the look on his face with the forced smile. Then the reminder what the whole situation was made her feel so strange, especially at his new found offer that sounded more like a demand. She didn't want to stay in the bathroom because it was awkward in here with him, but she didn't want to leave because she wanted to cry and she didn't want people to ask her too many questions.
"I can't."
"Why? Have a hot date with bathroom stall number 3?" He chuckled in an attempt to joke.
"No." Hermione snapped. "People will see me with you and I don't want to deal with it."
"Let them see. Come on, please?" Somewhere inside Draco he had wanted to make up for all the years that he had wronged her, to make it right and let her know she wasn't alone. "Just for 10 minutes. Enough to get you to the great hall or your dorm."
"I left my bad in the great hall." She conceded.
"Great." He grabbed the door and gestured her to go out before him, like the gentleman he was raised to be.
She walked through tentatively, and they walked side by side in a very tense silence. Hermione's mind went elsewhere as she walked slowly, while Draco's mind was focused solely on her. She kept replaying it in her head, the scene from the great hall. Ron's look of anger and disgust, and Lavender sniggering with glee. Hermione allowed herself to sniffle, allowed the tears to fall as much as she hated it. She was so upset. She'd known back in first year that Ron had no disregard for her feelings but that was before they had gotten to know each other and be friends. Hermione was loath to admit that she had fallen for him more, she didn't want to be just his friend; although now it appeared she wasn't even that.
Hermione hadn't been paying attention to where she was going or how she was moving, her own feet tripped her as she moved down a flight of stairs. Draco's arms snatched out and caught her by the waist, pulling her to him. They felt firm and secure and safe to Hermione, to be clear it was only because she was desperate to feel something comforting, anything that wasn't angry or negative. Draco had noticed her sniffling and occasionally wiping off a tear from her face. He'd been watching her try to keep up with the pace of walking, and watched her attempt to stifle her trembling lip. Her eyes were cast to the floor like she was too sad to even bother to look up, but she wasn't paying attention to anything and it was no surprise to Draco when she tripped and he was prepared.
"We've arrived." He whispered, his breath cascading over her cheek. Shivering, Hermione looked up and saw that they had indeed reached the door just a couple of feet away.
She straightened herself with the little dignity she had left and continued on, but before she could even get to the door Draco had opened it for her. She nodded gratefully and awkwardly at him before she entered. The great hall was full of people laughing and eating lunch, a rather obnoxious afternoon if she had anything to really say about it. Her eyes landed on Ron and Lavender who were still snogging. Hermione stopped herself from entering any further into the great hall and Draco walked right into her back. He looked down at her small figure and followed her tearful gaze.
"I'll get it." Draco stated before leaving her in a daze and heading over to the Gryffindor table, all eyes on him.
Hermione watched him grab her bag, Ron got up to yell with his face turning an unnatural shade of red, and Draco yelled back pointing at Hermione before shoving Ron back into the bench. Draco made his way to her, glaring at anyone that looked at him questionably, still furious at what the redhead said. As soon as he reached her he pushed the door open with one hand and guided her out with the other, offering her the smallest of smiles.
"What the hell do you have in here Granger?" He said, noticing how heavy her bag was.
"Books." She murmured. "I have to return them."
"Lets go then." He said, not quite ready to leave her. Draco slung her bag over his shoulder and pushed her forward once more, she didn't really comprehend the action and followed along much to Draco's pleasure. "So what did he do?"
"What?" Hermione asked, looking up at him.
"The Weasle. He did something."
"How do you know?"
"He always does."
"Its stupid really." Hermione huffed. "I am just too sensitive."
"I've never seen you cry before."
"I've never seen you cry before." She repeated.
"Fair enough." Draco chuckled.
Hermione glanced sideways at Draco. He didn't look, sound or act anything like the boy she had grown up with. No, he appeared kinder now and natural. His hair was wildly ruffled like he had run his hands through it many times while deep in thought, his shirt wasn't buttoned at the top all the way and wasn't tucked in. His face even looked different. He looked sick but mainly he was relaxed and almost happy. He looked sincere when he spoke to her and it appeared that he had argued with Ron on her behalf, which was strange in itself.
"What did you say to Ron?" She inquired.
"He accused me of stealing your things, when I told him I was helping you he-" Draco stopped talking and cleared his throat, a sudden nervousness coming over him.
"What did he say"? Hermione pressed.
"He said I would never help a Mudblood, then I showed him you were with me and called him a heartless git." Draco flinched when she gasped at the word Mudblood, never realizing the effects of it until this moment.
Hermione felt like throwing up. Ron had never referred to her as a Mudblood before. It wasn't a term used lightly in their friend group. She felt so betrayed and not to mention confused at the situation where Draco Malfoy, original heartless git, was nicer than her best friend Ronald; new heartless git. Hermione needed to sit down and breath, its not like this was a big deal. It wasn't. The only thing wrong with the situation was her being with Draco right now, it didn't feel right. It was very suspicious.
"What are you playing at Malfoy?" She asked, stopping abruptly in the hallway. "Can I just have my bag back please?" She reached out for it but Draco took a childish step back.
"Granger I just want to help."
"What for? Why would you help a stupid Mudblood for?" She shoved him back away from her. He looked surprised at her strength and her to even lash out in such a way. Granted she had punched him once before, but to her credit he deserved it and egged her on.
Then Draco watched her facial expression change from one of mock anger to sadness. Hermione breathed in and out heavily, one hand holding her stomach while she slowly backed herself into a wall, sliding down until she had her legs to her chest with her head resting on her knees and she sobbed. Draco walked over to her and bent in front of her. She looked so small and fragile and he wondered how he had ever brought himself to be cruel to her, how anyone could be. Draco knew in the pit of his stomach that her sorrow was greater than the hurt her friend could cause, granted it was a trigger for these emotions and still no doubt painful. Draco grabbed her chin gently, forcing her to look at him, the gesture feeling natural.
"Don't call yourself that. Its not what you are. And when I saw you, the brave Hermione Granger, looking so broken and sad I knew something was wrong and I saw my own pain in you. I don't care what the past is. Right now is happening and whether you like it or not you needed someone."
Hermione looked at him with a watery gaze. It was as good of an explanation as any she'd received before, the problem was the source. After all these years, here they were in 6th year getting along. Out of all the people in school it was him to show her genuine concern or at least what looked like genuine concern.
A clicking of heels on the cold marble grasped their attention. Professor Mcgonagall arrived in all the grace she always had. Her back straight as a stick, her chin slightly lifted in authority. She was clearly aged but in her light blue eyes you could still see a young fire dancing within.
"Mister Malfoy is there a problem?"
Draco jerked his hand away, "No Professor."
She eyes him suspiciously up and down before landing her eyes on Hermione. "Miss Granger I was on my way to come find you. Your father owled this morning requesting to see you. Albus just got back with him, he looked a bit frazzled dear; you best come quick."
Draco was confused at the idea of a parent, a muggle parent to be specific, being so easily allowed on Hogwarts grounds. For a parent to come so quickly and on such a short notice, something had to be seriously wrong. He wondered if that had anything to do with her mood, what was going on in her life to make her feel so distressed. Hermione knew it was only under special circumstances that the Professors allowed the visits. They happened a lot when things started going bad, once in a while her father would request seeing her, and that didn't go over well with Hermione. It created a sensation of fear and anxiety that she had to fight.
Draco noticed the hint of fear in her eyes, the same look she had when he looked at her in the bathroom. Her behavior changed, her teeth clenched and lips pursed so tight they became white. Her back had stiffened, her normal creamy complexion had paled and her little body trembled as she stood.
Professor McGonagall turned without so much as a word and another glance at her fearful student. She started walking and knew that Hermione would be following close behind soon enough. Draco wondered at that moment when Hermione had paled, that McGonagall didn't say anything. Did she simply not notice? Or was this a normal reaction?
Hermione followed dutifully, her hands clasped in front of her; her knuckles white. Draco walked beside her, not sure what compelled him to do such a thing but he did so anyway and didn't waste any time questioning his decision. He stared at her as they walked, never once taking his eyes off of her, and every now and they she would look up at him with her confused brown eyes meeting his curious silver eyes. Hermione felt uncomfortable in her own skin, but she couldn't make a mistake, she had to maintain her composure at all costs and go with the flow. She didn't need people finding out about all of this, and Draco's stares made it seem that if she cracked he was going to know all of her secrets without a single word being uttered.
It didn't take long until they had reached the Dark Arts classroom. "Most of staff is at lunch or in a meeting in the Headmasters office and I thought it wise to use this room since the students are at lunch and in and out of dorm rooms rather than classrooms I believe it would give you the privacy you require."
"Thank you Professor." Hermione reached for the door and Draco began to follow her in, his feet moving on his own accord. But a pale and wrinkled hand stopped him.
"Mister Malfoy, I suggest you give them privacy."
Draco looked startled and backed away from the door, his eyes locking with Hermione's once more, and he swore it looked like she wanted him to go with her. Then it closed on him, the sound echoing through the standing there Draco felt the weight of Hermione's bag on his back and decided to put his time to use and return the books for her. He had nothing better to do.
Hermione turned slowly to face her father; and was momentarily relieved when she saw a trace of his old self there. The little sparkle in his eye behind the glasses and the familiar sweater vest that he normally donned. He almost could have passed for the man who was warm and talked about literature with his little girl. Almost.
Adam Granger had not been the same since his wife Jean passed away. Although he looked different then the last time Hermione saw him she knew the crazed man beneath the facade. She could see part of it now. His dark brown hair that was frosted with grey was too long, a mess and hadn't been washed in days. His five o'clock shadow had appeared and dark circles formulated under his pink rimmed eyes. It was clear that he wasn't well.
And Hermione could act bitter about it, about how he treated her but she didn't. Was she scared? Yes. Sad? Yes. But she understood and hoped he'd come back to her. Why did she understand his behavior? Reason being that Jean Granger suffered from cancer. ALL. It'd been an ongoing battle for the last five years with MRI's, chemoradiation, surgeries, infections. In the end her mom had gotten an infection in the lungs that had made it too difficult for her to breath and they had to make the decision to intubate her until the infection left. So they put her in a coma and waited, but Hermione's mother's fight had ended a couple nights later. Rightfully so, she'd put up a long fight and her body was tired.
That's when everything changed. Her father had asked her many times if there were any spells or medicines in the Wizarding World that could make it go away. Hermione had done the research, asked questions but when she'd gone and visited St. Mungo's they explained nothing could be done. Cancer didn't exist in the Wizarding World, magic folk had too high of an immune system and the magic in their blood was a protector against deadly illnesses. There was nothing she could have done but be a comfort to her parents.
However, when her mother died her father changed. He yelled at her all the time now, blamed her for his wife's death, that Hermione should have done something more to help her. He'd even had the audacity to tell her to bring Jean back to life. Hermione was sobbing by then and that was the first time, of an upcoming many times, that Adam Granger had hit his daughter. It slowly was getting worse and she knew her moms birthday was coming up very soon and in two months it would be the anniversary of her death which only triggered her father's anger. It was hard to believe a whole year had gone by. It was painful and she was desperate for comfort but this was her secret that no one knew, the professors knew about her mother's illness of course, but not the aftermath and effects that followed. Ron and Harry knew nothing and she'd keep it that way, there was too much going on in their lives already and despite everything he was still her father and all she had left.
"Hi dad." She said shyly.
"Hey pumpkin." He walked up and hugged her, Hermione held in a flinch. "How's my favorite girl?"
Hermione wrapped her arms around her dad welcoming the familiar embrace before pulling away and holding in the tears. "I'm good! Staying busy and learning. How are you? I'm liking the sweater vest." She smiled.
"I'm good. What kind of stuff are you learning?"
"New spells and potions. I learned how to make Liquid Luck the other day it was, well it was rather complex actually." Hermione frowned remembering how much she had struggled.
"That's good. Anything else?"
She looked at him confused. "Not really. Charms and Potions are getting more advanced. Dark Arts seem to be getting worse."
"Why is it getting worse?"
"A new Professor took the class, but he isn't exactly my number one favorite nor am I his. He had been denied the job for years previously due to his dark past."
"Like those people you were telling me about?"
Hermione knew exactly who he was referring to, the Death Eaters. Before the start of fifth year a letter had been sent to parents encouraging them to trust the staff at Hogwarts and send their children back for another year despite the death of a boy. She had to explain everything to her parents that year or she could never return to her second home. She explained everything she had gone through and all she was still going through. They questioned her friendship with Harry but she was adamant that they were in this together no matter what happened. She was fighting for her life as much as for those who were like her as well and that it would all be inevitable one day the least she could do is help and stay by his side. There were no secrets that day and they knew everything from her being bullied because of blood status all the way to Voldemort and they finally understood why she was so on edge that summer. It was a toss up between Voldemort not being back or truly being alive and as much as the Daily Prophet didn't believe Harry she did, and with that belief came a whole set of worries.
"Yeah. Dumbledore believes he has changed and we have to trust his judgment. He is very wise."
"Sounds like another stressful year." Her dad cleared his throat. "You were telling me that this Voldemort character was someone Harry thought he saw."
Hermione flinched at his easy use of a Dark Wizards name. "Yes. Fourth year. It was the year Cedric Diggory died."
"Of course. Now I've asked Dumbledore to send me the newspaper so I could keep tab on your world and make sure I was aware of the things going on and when I was reading it low and behold I saw something rather interesting. There were multiple pictures of you and your friends. One of which you were all cut up and dirty, it looked like you had gotten into a serious fight. I read to discover that you were in a battle against Voldemort himself who was back, seemingly from the dead. Care to explain that?"
And just like that her old father was gone. It took no more than a snap of fingers or a flick of a wrist for him to change. With every word he spoke his demeanor changed slowly. His tone became angered and his posture had straightened into one of authority and was meant to cast fear. His eyes had grown wide and dark, his chin jutting out in an nasty snarl. He changed right before her very eyes. Hermione took a small step back and cleared her throat of fear.
"Its dark magic dad."
"But he's alive?" Hermione didn't answer, she looked away instead and when she wouldn't even look him in the eye for a couple of seconds her father walked up to her and yanked on her wrist pulling her to him. "Isn't he?"
"Yes." She whispered, trying to get her arm back by her side and away from the painful grip.
"So you've been lying to me? There is a way to get your mother back?"
Hermione looked up at him with fearful eyes, but she felt a bubbling anger at his ignorance and lack of understanding. "Its dark magic dad!" She pulled her arm back and shoved him away, holding her aching wrist. "We don't even know how he did it. Someone truly evil would want to come back. Mom is not evil, she wouldn't want that."
He grabbed hold of her neck and slammed her against the cold metal door, her head bouncing slightly. "You will figure out what he did or so help me God you will wish you had never been born." His grip tightened slightly before he threw her to the side, into a group of desks that scraped across the floor as her body was flung into them. "Figure it out Hermione. I'll be in touch."
And then he left.