Two sides of a looking glass, a harry potter fanfic

AN: So I know I am in the middle of two ongoing fics, but exams are so busy so I came up with this one-shot to hopefully satisfy you until my exams are over and I can continue with 'An unexpected Detention' and 'Dalliance'. This is a ONE SHOT there will not be a sequel. Thank you to my wonderful friend for editing my grammar before releasing it to you guys! Enjoy. ~TheOnlyQuirk

Two sides of a looking glass

"You wanted to see me?"

I say it softly, knowing that he can hear me anyway, and smile as he makes his way down the path to the enclosed grove of trees down by the lake. It is early spring and I wrap my cloak around myself tighter, as the sharp breeze tugs at my clothes and sends my unruly curls flying, knowing that I should have tied it up. A small rain shower has started, but hasn't quite reached me as I stand sheltered by sapling's new leaves.

All the anxiety and stress that has been building up inside of me for days now melts away, as I watch his familiar appearance grow nearer. His unkempt platinum hair flopping in the breeze, the constant neatness of his pressed black robes, emblazoned with the Slytherin crest, and the Malfoy family ring that I can't see, but I know is there on his right hand. Everything is so familiar that I can't help but grin at the boy, my best friend, who has helped me for months now.

If you had told me 3 months ago that I would be very good friends with Draco Malfoy, I would have sent you to Madame Pomfrey with a case of delirium. But now I can't imagine a life without him. Harry and Ron don't have a problem with him, since the war and everything, but they don't know to what extent I trust him. The kind of unspoken relationship, which even I'm not sure how it happened. The war changed a lot of people. Me included.

I stand up and face him, but my smile slips and the worry returns. He isn't smiling. In fact, he isn't even looking at me, but at the damp ground that he treads upon lightly. As he comes to stand beside me, I can see how tense he is. Back straight, fists clenched at his side.

"What's up?" I ask lightly, but he doesn't reply; his face is expressionless and I inwardly curse his uncanny ability to mask emotion. I can tell that something isn't right, but I know not to press it and instead reach up to hug him as we usually do in greeting.

"It's been ages since I last saw you-"

But he takes a step back, a flash of apology in his eyes before the mask returns, and my arms fall limp to my sides. A flush of humiliation enters my cheeks and not for the first time, I curse my own failings to conceal emotion, knowing it is only a gift that certain people possess.

With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I hang my head and wait for an explanation.

"Hermione…"

My head snaps back up as I think I can detect a hint of feeling in his voice that I can't quite place, but I must have been imagining it, because when I look up his face is as hard as stone, and his voice is the same even tone that he uses when talking to teachers.

"What's wrong?" I whisper, and he draws his gaze away.

"We can no longer be friends."

I look at him in disbelief, trying to figure out whether he's joking.

He's not.

He turns round to leave, but I grab hold of his arm and whirl around to face him, ignoring the fact that he is at least a foot taller than me.

"What do you mean? You can't just say that and leave!"

He refuses to look at me, but I stare straight into his stormy grey eyes.

Eyes that I trust.

Eyes that have seen me at my weakest moments.

Eyes guarded with a prison of secrets to which only he holds the key.

"Draco Malfoy listen to me!"

He looks tired, but eventually says, quietly and slowly,

"I'm bad for you Hermione."

At that, I supress a laugh of relief. He's only worried about me?

And I thought it was something serious.

We've had this conversation so many times, I've lost count. His past that haunts him like a child's nightmare, is not easy to get rid of, but slowly, he tells me snippets, always worried that I'm going to think of him as a monster and run away screaming. I know there's something big he hasn't told me yet, and he cleverly diverts all conversation if we get close to it. But I don't pressure him.

We all have secrets.

"Draco, we've been through this…"

"Hermione stop."

He closes his eyes as if in pain, but this time I will not let it drop, and I place both of my hands on his shoulders.

"No, I will not stop. Draco, you are amazing. What you have been through…no-one should have to go through. But you did. And now you're helping me! You are not going to hurt anyone else because I won't let you. We've talked to each other about everything, you know that I would tell you anything, and you can trust me to-"

"I lied."

My talk finishes abruptly and the silence is so tangible, it sits in the air, waiting to be broken. My head is swimming and his face offers no explanation.

"I don't understand."

In a monotone voice, he replies,

"I don't enjoy talking to you. I never wanted to talk to you. I was putting up with it because I had been a selfish person and wanted to do a good deed. But I have enough on my plate without having to deal with you as well. I'm sorry, I lied. But the charity has to stop somewhere."

What?

My breath leaves me as if I was just winded, and I can't think. My arms wrap around myself instinctively as if holding together the shattered fragments of my hope, trust and heart that have already been lost, tumbling to the spring frozen earth. I sink onto the bench, eyes glazed over in complete shock.

All this time…

But I won't let him see.

Charity?

I have humiliated myself enough already.

"You'd better leave then." I say softly.

"Sorry for wasting your time-" I cringe as I hear my voice break on the last syllable, and close my eyes, not wanting to see him anymore.

But he just stands there, oblivious to my whole world shattering in colourful pieces as he holds the hammer that did it. He was the only one I told everything. The nightmares that I couldn't run from, so vivid and grotesque that I woke up screaming, tears streaming down my face. My fears that I didn't voice to my Gryffindor friends about my muggle family. The guiltily kept despair that had me in its grip even after the war. I told him everything. And he listened.

I thought he listened.

I thought he had caught me.

But instead he had dropped me from a greater height with no safety net to catch me.

In those last few seconds I want him to change his mind. I want him to hold me, to tell me he's sorry for scaring me, that he does trust me, and he does care, that he would always be there for me.

But he doesn't.

He just bows his head and leaves as quietly as he came. And as he disappears from sight towards the castle, the first of many tears escapes and slips silently down my cheek as easily as 2 months of friendship just slipped through my fingers.

Not friendship Hermione. Charity.

It was all just a lie.

XxXxXxXx

The heavy weight of sorrow has been with me the entire day, ever since I had finally owled her, asking her to meet with me. And now here I am, walking towards our favourite spot, which is often shrouded in the mist that blows off the lake, a feature that I enjoy the privacy of. I take a small amount of pleasure from the cool breeze that washes over my exposed skin and breathe in the scent of pine needles and petrichor. I see her before she sees me; standing by the old worn bench and my heart tightens. As I approach I carefully wash my face clean of the emotions which are raging inside of me. She hates it when I do that.

But she'll understand. She has to understand.

"You wanted to see me?" she calls out, and my eyes flicker towards her, just for a moment, setting off the warmth in my heart and alarm bells in my head. Her auburn hair ripples in the wind and a smile graces her features. I don't reply.

"What's up?" she asks concerned, but again, I stare at the ground.

I never imagined it would be this hard. I never imagined I would have to do this at all. Never in a million years would I have imagined befriending Granger of all people, especially on a starry night when going on a midnight walk. Her sobs were quiet, but my hearing is good, and she was the first person who understood me. Didn't judge me, but didn't pity me either.

I can sense her searching my face for any sign at all, and a sweep of guilt fills me as her brow crinkles in frustration and worry.

Stay strong Draco.

"It's been ages since I last saw you-"

A flash of fear jolts me to my senses as I realise she is about to give me a hug. Knowing that my resolve would crumble the instant she touched me, I take a step back, only to see the hurt written on her face and I silently apologise.

She flushes red, and I am able to read her like an open book as she hangs her head in the misery I've caused.

"Hermione…"

The knot in my stomach tightens as she looks up at me, those large chocolate eyes of hers searching mine.

"What's wrong?" she whispers, and I know that I have to say it now before I back out.

"We can no longer be friends."

There. Done. Not daring to take a breath, I turn on my heel to walk away as fast as possible, but Hermione being Hermione, grabs my arm and faces me.

"What do you mean? You can't just say that and leave!"

I try not to listen. I can't listen.

"Draco Malfoy listen to me!"

Damn it.

"I'm bad for you Hermione." I say, the words that have been nagging me for weeks now.

At first I tried to ignore it. After all, she was the one telling me her secrets, letting me comfort her. I was only listening, helping. I was happy with that. But as her most pressing matters were exhausted, she turned to me, knowing all too well the trials I have had to face. The funny thing is that she can read me better than she thinks, but often doesn't trust her own judgements. At first I told her pieces of my past to satisfy her, not the other way round. I felt she deserved to know about me, letting her feel less guilty for anything she had done. However, as time passed, the weight I didn't even know I carried was lifted as she listened to everything I said, hanging off my every word. Nobody had given me their undivided attention like that before. And before I knew it, she knew more about me than I had ever dared to reveal. That's the problem. I haven't even told her everything, and she's already in danger.

Danger that I put her in.

Already I know what follows, and it does, as Hermione starts up on her speech that varies but sways me every time. Not this time though.

Her close proximity makes it harder as I can smell her familiar scent. The smell of clean laundry, cinnamon and books. Closing my eyes, I will myself to keep composed.

And I silently beg forgiveness for what I'm about to do to her.

It was the only thing I could think of that would let me leave. But even as I finish, I am inwardly screaming, LIES! LIES! LIES! Hermione doesn't hear my internal battle and collapses onto a bench, eyes glazed over, and I wonder whether all pain is always this bad. She doesn't try to hide the hurt she feels, in fact it radiates off her like heat in a sauna, and it burns me just as much.

This is for her own good Draco. This is for Hermione.

"You'd better leave then. Sorry for wasting your time-"

And as her voice breaks, my heart does the same.

This is for Hermione. Walk away Draco, walk away.

In those last few seconds I want her to fight back.

To tell me that I'm being stupid, demand answers, and be a Gryffindor! Punch me even. Anything would be better than the lifeless shell that I have created.

But she doesn't.

So I count to 3 and walk away knowing that I can corrupt her no further.

Please PLEASE review, and make my day! Positive or negative, I will be happy with anything. Hope you enjoyed it x