A/N: This is my first attempt at writing anything like this so I hope you like it! The next chapter will make things a lot clearer; this is hopefully just a little teaser... And obviously, I do not own anything Harry Potter related.
Enjoy!
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Chapter 1. Decisions
Hermione was cold.
She was always cold.
It wasn't just a physical coldness she felt; it was an emotional numbness, a sense that she was detached from the world around her. Even when she was in the warmest room or on the hottest day she felt this coldness in her core, a feeling that she would never be fully warm or truly happy again.
She sat curled up in the windowseat, her book resting on her lap, and gazed at the bright world outside. Even seeing the sun sparkle on the river as it flowed by the house failed to rouse her from her reverie, her thoughts running over and over the same ground, trying to work out where it had all gone wrong. How something which had seemed so right years before could have gone so terribly wrong.
She knew she was smart and intelligent; it was the one thing about herself she valued. Even though, logically, she knew that the situation she found herself in didn't mean she was stupid, that it could happen to anyone, she worried that others would wonder how the 'brightest witch of her age' could make such a mistake. That no-one could understand that she'd reached the point of no return before even realising there was a problem.
In fact, the expectations that came from being part of the 'Golden Trio' made it all so much harder. How could anyone understand that beneath the surface of her famed intelligence and her perfect, fairy tale life, that she could feel so dark and empty? To everyone else it looked as though she had it all; she could hardly admit to herself how bad things had got, how much of her life was a facade of smiles and presenting the Hermione people expected to see.
Her only true escape were her books. She could still pick up a novel or a text book and emerge herself in it, finally feeling something like her true self. But even this freedom never lasted that long; too often she was called to do something or was told she was wasting her time and shirking her responsibilities.
She had no-one to talk to either. No-one who she could unburden herself to, who would understand and appreciate what she was going through, who would support her unconditionally. She knew that if she tried to broach the subject with anyone around her she would be told she was being silly, sensitive, what had she to complain about? She knew they would never take her side and she had never felt so alone.
She wondered what would happen if she just disappeared one day. Just stopped and ran away. Just gave up. Would anyone care for the actual loss of her? Or just for the role she played in their lives? Would they finally pick up on her unhappiness and dig beneath the facade? Or would they just say that she had over-reacted, made a fuss over nothing, wasn't worth the upset?
Hermione shook herself firmly. That was not the way. She was a Gryffindor and they faced their problems head on. Bravely. She couldn't let them win; this was not her fault and she deserved to be happy and to live the life she wanted to live.
As she sat there she felt as though something clicked in her brain. She was not going to put up with this any longer. She needed to be brave; she needed to remember who she was and to stand up for herself.
Today was the day when she would start to fix her life. To warm herself up again.
Today was the day.
...
Draco was bored.
He was always bored.
He stood in front of the mirror and wondered, as he did every day, why he had bothered to get dressed. What was the point, when no-one would see him? But only people who were unwell didn't get dressed and he was perfectly fine. Perfectly.
He spent all his days inside the four walls of his home, wandering from room to room, a prisoner through his own choice. After his enforced imprisonment here had come to an end, he had simply continued in the same way. For what else could he do with his life now? The world had turned against him and in response he had turned away from them. Why should he engage with them when they had so clearly showed they didn't want him? In this house at least he knew where he was, there were no expectations or questions and he could do as he wanted.
He felt safe here. Safe from the idiots out there who felt they had the right to judge him. Or worse, thought they could help him. He didn't need their help, their interference in his life; it wasn't as though they cared, was it? They were trying to make themselves feel better with their supposed well meaning intrusion. One by one he had pushed them away. Used the infamous Malfoy sarcasm and rudeness. Stopped answering the door. Didn't return their owls. He didn't care. The only person he could trust was himself, Draco Malfoy.
He may be bored with nothing really to do but this was vastly preferable to having to deal with people. The only time he truly felt engaged with anything now was when he read; he had new books delivered every week and they were piled up around the walls of his rooms. But even they couldn't fill all the hours of all the days and he spent a lot of time just lying on his sofa. He'd developed an ability to switch off his brain and could stare at the ceiling for hours in a trance, so it wasn't really that bad, was it?
The world outside was now an unknown to him. He sometimes summoned up the energy to leave the confines of his house but he found he gained nothing from these trips except annoyance at everything and everyone and so he'd returned home and locked the door again. As time went on these trips became shorter and shorter, and longer and longer went between each one. The last one must have been...oh...seven...no, nine months ago.
But he wasn't scared of the outside world, he told himself firmly as he looked himself in the eye, no, not at all. It was just that he didn't need to go out. There was no reason for him to do so, that was it. If he needed to he would be perfectly fine.
For a split second he felt sure his reflection was laughing at him. The Malfoy in the mirror seemed to raise his eyebrows, challenging him, questioning him.
He sighed and walked determinedly away from the mirror. Fine, maybe he did have a problem. A small one. Nothing insurmountable. Easily fixed.
Today was the day he would go outside, go for a walk, a coffee. Prove to himself he could.
Today was the day.