Hermione's insane. Hermione's insane. You're insane Hermione, did you know?
Is it a surprise Hermione? Is it eating you Hermione? What's wrong Hermione?
Did I hurt your feelings? Hurt your feelings the way you hurt-
'Shut up!' Thank God I was alone in the elevator. I don't know how I could have explained that. 'Shut up you miserable little wretch inside my head! I hate you!'
It felt good to say it aloud, to be honest with the voice. I am not insane. I swear. I swear it on my magic, I swear on my friends. I swear it on my-Parents? Were you going to say parents Hermione? Oooooh now that's interesting Hermione, now that's ironic. Where are you going sweetheart, I'm not-
Thank God, the elevator was open. I walked down halls, where the air was thick with aerosol sprays seeking desperately to mask the stink of illness. I shouldn't have put them here. But this was the best facility that their world had, and at least they could be together. I guess. I shouldn't have put them here.
12, 13, 14, There was a woman sobbing, screaming inside that room. I moved on. 15, and a man was saying polite meaningless words, very softly- 16 and here was the inevitable-17. Two polite raps announced me, but the door was locked. What did that mean? I had called ahead. I had called ahead, and the secretary downstairs had said I could just- no, don't panic, that will make the voice come back, don't panic.
Like a god throwing Ferrero Rocher from some mystically puffy cloud, I saw a nursing attendant in that ubiquitous mint green that does nothing for anyone.
'Hello Miss, excuse me, but I need to see my parents and the door is locked." It came out faster than I might have wanted, but on the all, it was good. I looked at Minty. She painted on her eyebrows, but I wasn't judging. After all I'm insane. She also had big big pores on her nose though, so maybe she wins. This time, at least.
'Did you call ahead and check with the secretary downstairs?' She eyed me, as if searching for some sort of weapon.
'Yes, I called three days ago, and checked downstairs and then called again just in case fifteen minutes before I came here. Yeah I called, but the door is locked, so I don't know, you know? So I was wondering if you could just unlock the door, because my parents are inside.' I didn't do so well this time. Did she know how long it was since I had talked to someone, anyone face to face? It was hard, damnit!
'Right. And your name is?' Minty was suspicious now. She raised her painted eyebrow.
I was focusing on the eyebrow, maybe peering a little.
'Granger, Hermione, Granger for an appointment at 3:30, room 17!'
'Right, just wait here one minute, please.' Before I could respond, she went down a way and used the hall phone, calling, I supposed, the secretary to ensure my legitimacy.
She hung up and strode towards me, her super short platinum blond hair wafting about her ears, reminding me of someone from a long time ago. She sneered a little as she opened the door, reinforcing the sensation.
I wonder whatever happened to- but no. The door was open and it was time to spend twenty minutes with two vegetables that used to be my parents.
She was rubbing my leg, the little tart. It was a private dinner for four, at a restaurant that prided itself on serving authentic American mublood …muggleborn cuisine. Welcome to the consequences of a war that shook the foundations of the wizarding world.
But Mother and Father knew it was Good Publicity. So here we were. And here I was with Sophia, a half-blood American with no taste and big green eyes- Theo recommended her to me for the occasion. Also Good Publicity, seeing Malfoys amicable with half-bloods. Baby steps.
Sophia was still touching my leg. I snuck a look at her, and saw that through the polite meaningless words that drifted around the table, she was in shock, or at least surprised. I took her wrist, quite firmly, and asked her what the matter was.
'Finally! I thought you were never going to ask!'
I posed the question again.
'Well, Draco-' I stiffened. Too much too soon, though she was attractive. And she was attractive-it was the color of her skin perhaps, a dark and exotic tawny shade.
'Are you listening?' And grating, I shall never forget grating.
'Yes Ms. Laurent. Please continue.' Appeased by what she no doubt saw as old-world manners, she continued
'Well, I was saying that only Harry Potter just walked in, like the Absolute Savior of the Wizarding World. And into my restaurant! This is the best PR I'll get for years!'
Mother stopped the flow of polite meaningless words. She gave me a look that meant many things. It reminded me of my obligation to the Malfoy House. It demanded that I use this opportunity to further Good Publicity. It screamed that I be on my best behavior.
My life is shit.
I rose from my chair, no noise emanating from the soft fawn carpet and looked at Harry Potter, the boy who refused my hand of friendship. The boy who had taken everything from me, my family, my dignitas, the grandeur and unblemished ancestry of my line. The boy who spearheaded a movement that brought my father to his knees, a posture from which he has never recovered. Humility, Draco. Humility- for you can no longer afford to be proud. Pride is for Potter now.
Pride is for Potter now.
Pride is for Potter now.
You're insane Draco. You're insane Draco. Hey Draco, did you know you were insane? Is it a surprise Draco? Is it eating you up, Draco? Is it eating you ALIVE?