When You Open Your Heart...
A/N: So, I'm back with my writing. I've not done a lot of writing these last couple of months, and I'm working on the sequel to The Strangest Love – you might want to read that before you read this! My writing is a little rusty, I know, and I'm going to get back on track now hopefully. I don't want to delay everything too much, or I'll lose my little writing muse.
I'd promised myself, as a child, that I'd uphold the family honour. But I've noticed myself changing. I didn't care for Blood Status any more, and I couldn't care less whether or not a person had money. Those things, so worthless, seemed like the world to me at one point; but now? They mean nothing. Nothing whatsoever. I've matured over the last year. I've realised that what my father taught me was a load of rubbish; it's what he wanted me to know, and it's how he wanted me to act. I'm not going to do that any more. though – why should I? He's dead. His darkness can't take me over and keep me from the light, and from doing what I think right. It might sound weird, but I'm free to do what I want. I never wanted that life for myself, and I could never imagine being anything like my dad was. If I was, I wouldn't make my children hallow...I wouldn't want them scared of me, I wouldn't want them to hate me. To resent me the way I resented my father.
I, Draco Malfoy, have realised where I went wrong all those years ago. I've realised what a grave mistake I made when I accepted the Dark Lords' missions. I was foolish. I was under my father's influence. Well, that's about to change. He's no longer here; everyone knows he's burning in the fiery pits of Hell. Of course, with my father, even that wouldn't bother him.
On to my story. I was saying that I've realised all this. But who made me realise it? One girl. Hermione Jean Granger. Part of the "golden trio", as they were so infamously called. She was the one to pull me from my stupor. She helped me realise there was more to a person than just what meets the eye, that beauty is only skin-deep. I never thought I could develop...feelings for Granger. Never would I have imagined it. I could only guess what my father would say, and the thought of that brought a small smile to my face. Small, but a smile nonetheless.
I knew my dad would never have approved if he were alive. He'd probably have removed me from the school and hexed the crap out of me until I promised to hate Hermione and everything she stood for. He was – well, I can't think of the word to describe him. How could any parent show their children that level of hatred and openly tell their children they disliked them? I know I couldn't do it. Not if the child was mine. It shouldn't be possible to feel that amount of hatred for a small child. I remember being told what a waste of an heir I was, how I didn't deserve everything he'd done for me. But what had he done for me? Nothing but hate me; beat me; and raise me to hate people the way he hated them, to believe torturing people – Muggles – was right, when it wasn't.
It was as if she'd awoken something within me. Something I never knew even existed...compassion, for one thing. She'd made me realise I was capable of loving and caring for people, people I used to think didn't belong in our world. I see now how pathetic I was when I was younger. I realise now that I never looked past my own nose. I thought everything was as it seemed, but it's not.
I can recall the day Hermione nearly drowned in the bath. I remember being terrified she'd drowned, but at the time I hadn't yet realised what my feelings for her were. I knew I didn't want her hurt, but my brain was telling me it was because I thought I'd get the blame for killing her. That wasn't the truth. It was because my feelings for her had already begun; I was just too naïve to realise it, and that saddens me. I was a silly fool, I was an incompetent fool. I didn't deserve her back then, not after the way I'd treated her. I didn't deserve her trust or her faith. She didn't seem to care too much that I'd had to pull her out of the bath. She was, of course, embarrassed by it, but I think most people would be. I would have been, if I were her. I, however, have no shame, and would happily stand naked on top of the Astronomy tower, for whoever wanted to see – during a Quidditch match! That's just me, though. Seriously, I have no shame. I don't care if people see me in the buff. I think it's fun to run around the Quidditch pitch stark naked...ah, funny times – but wait, I'm getting off track again.
I remember when Granger lay in the hospital bed, poisoned by me. It was only a few days ago, but I remember her lifeless eyes and how much it killed me to see her like that. I wanted nothing more than for her to wake up, but...she didn't, not at first. In all honesty, it scared me. I thought she'd die. For a second I thought the one person I was beginning to care about was being taken away as punishment for me not realising all this earlier. I thought I was being punished for my father's sins, for all his bad traits that he'd passed on to me. Selfish, I know; she might have been dying and all I could think was that I was being punished. I'm a selfish person, what can I say? I'd never felt this level of emotion, and now it was being painfully pulled away from me. I didn't know how to act and I felt bad. It was me who'd put her in this predicament; it was me who'd poisoned her. Sure, it was an accident – my brain knew this, but my heart wouldn't believe it. It was saying I'd done it on purpose and I was treating her the way she deserved to be treated. I knew the voice of my heart was that of my father, and I began to ignore my heart and trust my brain. My brain, strangely enough, knew what my heart was really feeling. It knew I loved her, and it knew that I'd do anything for her to keep her safe; I wouldn't let monsters like my father harm her again, like they had done previously.
I've never felt like this before, and it scares me – not knowing why things are happening to me, why I feel this way. Why after all these years one person has changed every belief I ever had, every thought I'd had about Muggle-borns. I didn't think they were that bad any more. Hermione was one of a kind. She was smart, she had a good sense of humour when she wanted one, and she could pull off almost anything. She could dress in whatever she wanted and make it look good, but that wasn't why I liked her. It had something to do with the way she forgave me instantly; the way she tried to help me when I was sad; the way she spoke to me like I was human, rather than a slave to an evil man who on many occasions had tried to kill her and her closest friends. I admired her for the courage it must have taken her to forgive me. She made it seem all so easy, and that shocked me. She was a true Gryffindor, and I was beginning to love her for it.
Now, it takes a lot for me to admit to my emotions. I had to hide them for so long that it became second nature to me. To finally let people into my life was harder than it should have been. For all this I blame my father, I really do. If he hadn't have raised me to be a spoilt child and taught me the ways of Voldemort I don't think I'd be this cold and find it so hard to love. And it is hard. It's hard to see her every day and not be able to tell her how I feel. When she's sad I have to pretend I don't care, when really I want to run to her and listen to her problems and help her solve them.
I might sound like a bit of a girl, but can one really help how they feel? If we can control how we feel, why are people depressed – why do they allow themselves to be sad instead of happy? I can't answer that, and I'm not sure I'd want to know the answer. Life is different for everyone. Some people find their reason to live instantly. Some never find it and give up. And others? Well, they just have to search well enough to find a reason. Everyone has one, some people just don't look hard enough. Some people don't even have to look – their reason is right in front of them. It might seem unfair and unjust. Some people spend their lives searching; others just give up on their lives because they feel they have nothing to live for. Good people die at the hands of bad people – where is the justice in that? People who've never purposely harmed anyone are so often the ones who get hurt themselves. Life is extremely unfair to some. People are unfair to some. I myself was unfair to Hermione, and I regret every bad thing I've ever done or said to her.
My life used to feel like a black hole. Time was sucked in that I can never get back – I grew up too fast. Now my life is like a white hole, spewing out time; sometimes events might repeat themselves, but they'd be the good times. It's all thanks to one girl. A girl who, though she's been tormented for most of her life, has been a rock for me and for others. She seems to push her own pain aside and help others as they need it.
She's determined to do right by everyone, and she's compassionate about her work and how she achieves her goals. It's amazing how one person can have so many good qualities and so few bad ones when there are people like myself who are nearly all bad and who seem cold and hard to the outside world. We're not really like that; we're scared to show emotion in case it's thrown back in our faces. Hermione never seems to be scared of anything.
Oh, I know she's not perfect; she has faults like any other person, but who am I to talk? Her faults are nothing compared to mine.
And these, my dear reader, are the reasons that I, Draco Malfoy, love and will always love Hermione Jean Granger.