A/N: Wow, I can't believe I'm finally posting this. I've been working on this since Christmas, and I've just been trying to improve it as much as possible before posting it because I REALLY want you all to enjoy this. This is my baby. LoL. I've been scared to death to post because I kept feeling like there were still a few ways to tweak it and make it better and more interesting, but I think I'm finally happy with it, and I hope you all are, too. The name came form Kate Voegele's song Kindly Unspoken. This isn't based on a song or anything, the lyrics just reminded me of Draco and Hermione, so after writing some of this, I decided to name it that. Also, I'm rating this M for the overall content and language. I personally like fics with the whole 'intimate and sexual' aspect, but I'm probably not going to put in the detailed sex scenes, simply because I'm not good at writing them and I don't want to ruin it by putting in a bad one. But if anybody's getting busy…you'll know it, trust me. ;) If I get more comfortable with them, I might add something later. Maybe some of your reviews could help me with some tips???
SUMMARY:
This story takes place over the span of ten years. It begins with Hermione's writings, you'll see why. She's reflecting on her life and telling a story of the experiences in her life that brought her to the place she's at today. This story will be fairly fast-paced, without extensive description in most places. Mainly the highlights of her life will be included. I wanted to explore Hermione's character more deeply, and I think I've uncovered another side of her. This is not your typical Hermione, as you see in the opening statement. You'll see how she changed over the years since the war at Hogwarts, through both detailed scenes and descriptive summaries from Hermione's essay. I hope it's not confusing, and I hope you find humor, sadness, happiness, and hope in the different parts of this story; as well as entertainment in it's entirety.
As always, I must say that I don't own Harry Potter or any of its plots or characters. I've only used them to tell my own story. You'll notice that while the overall timeframe of the story is compliant with JK Rowling's books, many of the events have been altered, extended, and/or deleted to make it work with the story I want to tell. I mean no disrespect or encroachment by this.
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Kindly Unspoken: Chapter 1
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August 9, 2014
It's kind of hard to write about yourself. Sure, you know all the answers you'd usually spend countless hours trying to imagine about another person's life. But when you write about yourself, you're absolutely required to make it personal. There's no disguising your life as the life of a fictional character. Everybody knows it's your life in words. So how do you learn to let go of your modesty? To just let yourself write what you really feel about your life? To make it personal? Sometimes you have to put on a blindfold, sit down and start writing. You can feel the words forming in your very fingertips, but perhaps not being able to see them makes it easier. Or maybe, for only the brave of heart, you start to write; and hope what comes out is something above the equivalent of crap.
So here it goes, my name is Hermione Granger, and I'm an alcoholic. Wow. It's surprisingly more difficult to write those words than it is to say them. Which, I'm guessing, is the purpose of this assignment. If you speak it, you can add a big fat, 'just kidding' to the end. But you can't really do that while writing, not without looking stupid, of course. I mean, if you wanted to take back something you wrote, just erase it…don't tell us you're taking it back. That's just dumb.
Okay, so I shouldn't have said that was dumb. I'm not supposed to say things like that, according to my therapist. I've never quite understood why not. I've asked a hundred times, but the only meaning I ever take from the answer is that I should treat people how I want to be treated, and not judge or make fun of other people. I don't get why she's constantly pounding manners into my head; isn't she supposed to be treating me for an addiction, not insolence? If you ask me, she should be a kindergarten teacher rather than a psychologist. Her name is Fiona, by the way. But I call her Feo…because it means 'ugly' in Spanish.
Yes, I've taken up Spanish. I always imagined myself sitting on a beach in Mexico, drinking Tequila and listening to Jimmy Buffett…yes, I also know who Jimmy Buffett is. I've changed a lot. I'm not the person I used to be when I was 11 years old and first found out about magic. I'm not even the person I was when I was 17 years old and fighting for the greater good. I haven't known that person in a long time.
That's the first time I've thought about the m-word in years. I've been here for exactly one month, and, seeing that this is a muggle facility, haven't been forced to think about it. I pretty much gave all that up. After the war, things changed. I was given an honorary diploma from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but it didn't mean as much as I always thought it would. I always thought I'd go on to be and Auror after graduation, or maybe hold an even higher position in the Ministry of Magic. But like I said…things changed.
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December 9, 2004
"This is just ridiculous." Hermione looked in the mirror in her best friend's bedroom.
"Come on, Hermione, you look beautiful." Ginny Weasley stood behind her friend and ran her fingers through Hermione's hair.
"I look stupid." Hermione flipped her long hair back and shook her head. This just wasn't going to work.
"You do not."
"Yes, I do." Hermione stood from the wooden chair she was sitting in and approached the full-length mirror to get a closer look. She had her first job interview today, and she had reluctantly let Ginny try a new spell on her hair. Hermione had to admit that Ginny was skilled. She'd made her hair longer, straighter, smoother, and more beautiful than it had ever been; but it didn't suit Hermione in the least. "Change it back."
"But, Hermione…"
"Please?"
Ginny sighed. "Fine, but I want you to know that I'm taking this personally." Ginny began to flip back through the spell book to find the reversal spell.
"It's not you, Ginny. It just doesn't look good on me." Hermione sat back down, waiting for Ginny to find the spell.
Ginny picked up her wand, carefully said the spell and pointed her wand at Hermione's brunette hair. It immediately went back to being curly, somewhat bushy, and messy. Hermione smiled, happy to have her hair back, even if it did look like crap. She thanked Ginny for trying to fix her hair troubles, and left Ginny's room for the restroom across the hall. Hermione had been living with the Weasleys since the war. She decided she couldn't very well go back to her clueless parents until she pulled herself together. After charming them to believe they were childless and their last name was 'Jones,' not 'Granger," trying to explain everything to them without a clear head would only upset them and make things worse. So for now, living in their little country cottage, they were Jonathan and Julia Jones; and she was living at the Burrow at Mrs. Weasley's request.
Once she was locked in the restroom, she stood in front of the sink and looked into the mirror. She first fluffed out her hair, contemplating what the hell she was to do with it. But the longer she looked at herself, the more she noticed her sad eyes. Leaning closer to the glass, she studied their dark brown reflection. She wondered if everybody else could look into them and see her sadness, because she sure could. It's all she saw when she looked in the mirror these days. It's mostly all she felt. She watched as the light in her eyes slowly turned to a fire, blazing hot and burning her pupils. Her eyes widened as she remembered that night.
There was a knock at the door. "Hermione, you okay in there?"
Startled, "Yeah, Gin, I'm fine." Hermione had to rub her eyes to stop the burning sensation, causing a couple tears to stream down her face.
Knowing her friend rather well, Ginny opened the door to see for herself if Hermione was okay.
When Hermione saw Ginny walk in, she immediately sat down in on the edge of the tub and began to cry. "I'm so sorry, Ginny."
Ginny sat in the floor beside her and hugged her legs, letting her own tears flow freely. "Hermione, there's nothing you could do."
"I should have been able to do something. I should have stopped him from going back in there."
"Please stop crying. I haven't cried in days." Ginny sniffed and wiped her tears on Hermione's blue jeans.
"I'm sorry for that, too. And I'm sorry that I keep making you take care of me all the time. I should be the one comforting you. He was your brother!" Hermione slid down in the floor and hugged Ginny tightly, the two of them rocking back and forth in the floor together.
Ginny shook her head. "It doesn't mean you didn't love him, too. We both lost a loved one, and it wasn't fair."
After a few moments of nothing but sobbing, Hermione wiped her eyes. "If I'd just told him again not to go back in..." She let go of Ginny and slumped against the outside of the tub.
"You know he wouldn't have listened. He was too proud. He wanted to make you proud." Ginny, too, wiped her eyes and held her knees tightly to her chest.
"I was proud. I was proud of him every day." Hermione shook her head in frustration, remembering what happened on the day of the war.
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June 2, 2004
"Give it here, Malfoy!" Harry Potter stood in front of Draco Malfoy in the Room of Requirement. They were surrounded by what seemed like miles and miles of bookshelves holding books, money, and trinkets of every shape and size.
"Not a chance, Potter! You've already lost. The war has just taken a drastic turn in our favor."
"Malfoy, I'm not kidding! You have no idea what you're risking!"
"Don't talk to me about risk, Potter. I know a great deal more than you think." The acrimony in his voice was evident. "Besides, how valuable can this stupid crown really be?"
"Well if it's of no value to you, then you'll have no problem handing it over."
"Look, he's not going to give it to you!" Vincent Crabbe blurted out, earning an angry glare from Draco. Their other friend, Gregory Goyle snickered until he got the same cautionary look.
"Shut up, Crabbe! Nobody asked you!" Ron Weasley shouted from the other side.
"Listen here Weasley…" Crabbe took a step forward, but Hermione Granger blasted him with a shielding curse before he could reach Ron.
"Granger!" Draco watched Crabbe fly behind him and into a bookshelf, knocking down a few dozen hidden items.
"Whoops." Hermione innocently shrugged her shoulders.
"Mind your own business, Mudblood!"
Hermione had heard him talk to her that way before, and she had certainly developed a tougher skin after being tortured at his home not too long ago; but she was still Hermione Granger, and regretfully let his statement anger her. She raised her wand and hit Malfoy with a curse before he had the chance to counteract it. He, too, went flying and landed in the floor, skidding to halt when he hit an old couch.
The diadem flew up in the air and Harry grabbed a spare broom that was propped against the nearest shelf so that he could fly and retrieve it. He realized as soon as he made contact that it was his Firebolt that Professor Dolores Umbridge had hidden from him in their fifth year. He caught the diadem, and upon attempt to store if safely in his bag, felt a streak of something hot behind his back. He turned to see that the tip of his broom was on fire. From somewhere in the shadows, Crabbe had sent a spark flying at Harry, just barely missing his body.
"Harry!" Hermione squealed as Harry fell off his broom and landed amongst a pile of ancient books. She and Ron ran to his side to help him up.
"Are you okay, mate?" Ron dusted off Harry's shoulder.
"I'm fine. Where's Malfoy?" Harry coughed and adjusted his glasses.
"I don't know. They probably left when…what's that sound?" Hermione's train of thought was interrupted by a crackling sound, coming from the far end of the dark aisle. The three looked towards the sound and began to see a glowing light slowly emerging from the darkness.
"What the bloody hell is that?" Ron looked astounded.
"Oh, Merlin." Hermione looked at the light, horrified.
"What?" The boys responded in unison.
"It's Fiend fire." She slowly backed away. "It can't be put out by anyone other that the one who started it."
"Crabbe!" Harry looked around to see if the other three boys had abandoned them there; left to die in the unstoppable fire. It looked as if they had.
"Let's go!" Hermione yelled and grabbed her friends' hands as she ran for the exit.
"Wait! The diadem!" Harry ran back to the place he crashed on his broom, desperately looking for the diadem so that he could destroy the last of Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes once and for all.
"Harry, no! There's no time!" Ron stopped and called after him.
"I've got it!" Harry picked it up and ran as fast as he could back to his friends. The room was hot, and they were sweating and running as the room quickly began to fill with fire and burn away. They rounded a corner and bumped into none other than the three stooges that started this whole thing. All six of them crashed to the floor in a painful, sweating pile.
"What the hell's going on, Granger?" Draco disgustingly pushed her petite body off his own as he got up, dusting himself up.
"One of you idiots started a fire!"
"Yeah, blame the Death Eaters for everything that happens around here!"
She'd about had it with him. "Oh, shut up!" She yelled behind her as she ran for the exit. Everyone else followed her, Malfoy still arguing with her. They reached the exit and opened the door, jumping out into the cool, barren hallway.
"Help!"
Harry was about to jump through the door after Ron, when he heard the voice behind him. He turned to see Crabbe, apparently with his foot stuck on something, unable to move. He looked out the door at his friends, and at Goyle and Malfoy lying on the ground, coughing.
"Come on, Harry!" Hermione coughed and held her stomach painfully.
Harry shook his head and ran back inside to help Crabbe. The two tried to get the foot loose as the raging flames neared them.
"What's he doing?" Hermione frantically shouted from the hallway.
"Crabbe? Where's Crabbe?" Malfoy looked around, just as frantically as Hermione. "Goyle, where's Crabbe?"
"I don't know, Malfoy." Goyle, too, began to search for their missing friend.
"I'm going in after Harry." Ron stood up and approached the door with purpose. It was one he didn't recognize, not even in himself, but after all he'd been forced to become more confident in the last year. He was finally stepping up to his Gryffindor reputation.
"Ron, don't!" Hermione jumped up and grabbed his arm.
"Hermione, I have to!"
"Please don't go back in there, Ronald!" Her voice was high-pitched and pleading, but Ron stayed calm and collected.
"I'll be fine." He ran his hand gingerly across Hermione's cheek and leaned in for a soft, short kiss. "I love you." These were his last words before he ran inside after Harry.
"Ron!" Hermione crouched in the doorway, shielding her face and looking into the room; the drafty hallway air was mixing with the heat given off from the fire and creating a violent, ashy wind around her body.
Inside, Harry was pleased to see Ron running up to them. He also tried to free Crabbe's foot, but was having no luck. Crabbe, by this point, had passed out on the floor, making it even more difficult for Harry and Ron to work with him. Harry winced when his glasses broke from the heat, piercing his face. The flames were so close that they could practically feel them on their skin.
"Harry, we have to go!" Ron shielded his face from the flames.
"We have to free him!"
"I don't think we can! We have to leave him, Harry!"
"No! We'll get it!"
"Let's go!" Ron pulled his best friend with all his might, and they ran for the door.
They were closing in on the door, when Harry began to slow down. He was getting dizzy, and his vision was beginning to go dark. Ron noticed it before it was too late, and caught him as he reached the floor. "Harry! Harry, wake up!" Ron shook his friend, trying to get him to regain consciousness, but it was no use. Harry was out cold. Ron grabbed Harry by the arms and pulled him as fast as he could to the door.
"They're coming!" Hermione jumped up to allow them to run through, but then realized that something was wrong with Harry.
"Hermione! Help Harry!" She helped Ron pull him to the doorway, where Goyle and Malfoy surprisingly took over, pulling Harry to safety.
"Make sure he's okay, I have to get the diadem. He dropped it right over there!" Ron yelled over the roaring flames to Hermione, who immediately protested.
"No, Ron, leave it!"
"I can't, Hermione. We've gone too far to lose it now!" Ron ran the twenty feet back to the place where the diadem was laying, blazing hot, and picked it up. He saw Hermione standing in the doorway just before he felt himself being swept into a fury of fire.
"No! Ron!" Hermione watched Ron's body being engulfed in the deadly flames; she tried to run in after him, but Malfoy was too quick for her, catching her by the waist and pulling her safely through the door. "Let me go! I have to help Ron!"
"Its too late, Granger." Malfoy tightened his grip of the wildly wiggling Hermione. He carried her to the far side of the hallway, and with their presence no longer close enough to the door, the Room of Requirement shut itself off for good.
"Malfoy! What have you done?" Hermione tried to wiggle her way free, but Malfoy was persistent in his grasp. He held Hermione tight, trying to calm her down by making shushing sounds.
Hermione eventually gave up watching the wall where the door had once been. She turned in Malfoy's arms and hugged him tight, crying loudly into his chest. He reluctantly hugged her back and shed a few tears of his own over the loss of his long-time friend.
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The war changed us all. Some of us changed for the better; most of us changed for the worst. Ginny gained new confidence and strength, fighting the Death Eaters; but she lost a beloved brother. Harry lost a best friend, and nearly lost his life. In a gruesome, deadly duel, he defeated Lord Voldemort once and for all, and got to be The Boy Who Lived once again. He also gained a few more scars to match the lightening bolt on his forehead. Draco learned that he wasn't cut out for the Dark Arts; that he'd been chasing after a day that would never come. After losing his best friend, we all began to see a different side of Draco Malfoy; one that nobody knew had existed. And as for myself…my heart was broken. I knew that I had a reason to celebrate; that I'd assisted in taking down the most powerful Dark Lord in history. But I couldn't, because I knew that my life would never be the same. A part of me died that day. A part of me died with Ron.
After a couple days of misery, there was a funeral service for those lost in the wake of the war. There were twenty-seven fatalities; six were faculty, and three of them were fellow students, including Crabbe and Ron, whose bodies were never recovered from the Room of Requirement. The other student that we all knew, Pansy Parkinson, had mistakenly been killed by a Death Eater…her brother-in-law, ironically. I'd never seen Draco Malfoy react the way he did when he heard the news. It's like he wanted to cry, but refused to let everyone see. We saw him walking away quickly, and then we heard the sounds of crashing in a nearby corridor. He ended up in the hospital wing for the night.
Harry, too, had to spend those two days in the hospital wing. He had multiple injuries from facing Lord Voldemort, and he was advised not to attend the funeral. But Harry was hurting in more ways than one, and he also needed this time to grieve and to say goodbye to all those he lost. So without a second thought, I helped him sneak out of the hospital wing and into the beautiful garden where the service was being held.
I remember thinking at the funeral that it was entirely my fault. If I'd done my job as the brains of the operation, I'd never gotten myself, or my friends, into this mess in the first place. And I definitely wouldn't be where I am today.
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June 4, 2004
"Thank you, students, parents, alumni, and guests for attending this memorial service this morning to remember and honor those who are no longer among us, who died so valiantly for our freedom." Professor McGonagall stood at the head of a large group of seated people, holding back tears as she presided over the service. "Twenty-seven of our very own professors, students, parents and friends were slain in their dutiful acts of valor and heroism. They will forever be remembered in our hearts." She and the surviving faculty lit twenty-seven white candles with their wands, and released twenty-seven white balloons as the large, tearful congregation watched them disappear into the clear blue June sky.
The names of each victim were read off, and everyone were allowed to put flowers at the headstones, which were formed in a circle, symbolizing the unity that was now present in the Wizarding World…the unity they were all fighting for.
After the service had ended, and Ginny and Hermione were helping Harry back to the Hospital wing, a surprisingly disconcerted Malfoy approached the three just outside the castle doors.
Hermione immediately took notice of his face, which she could tell was tear-stained, because it looked just like Harry's, Ginny's, and her own.
Malfoy looked uncomfortable and out of place as he thought of something to say to the three Gryffindors. "Look, I know I don't have any right to be over here right now, and I frankly don't know why I am, but I just wanted to…apologize."
The three were taken aback. They certainly hadn't expected this.
"I've been an arse the last seven years, to all of you. I let myself get caught up in the Dark Lord and I just…I'm sorry." He looked nervous, like he wasn't sure if he was doing this correctly. Hermione guessed that this was the first time he'd ever given an apology.
"And I also wanted to thank you, Potter. For trying to save Crabbe, I mean. He was my best friend…" Malfoy started to choke up a little, so he hurried his words along. "…and I just wanted you to know that it meant a lot to me that you did what you did. I understand that you probably don't care whether or not I'm grateful, and I don't blame you, but I am. And I'm sorry about Weasley." He looked to Hermione and Ginny as well. "To all of you." He nodded his head quickly, and turned to leave before he lost control of his emotions.
They were all speechless for a moment. They didn't know what to say. Malfoy had never had a kind word to say to any of them, and all of a sudden he was handing out apologies like candy. They couldn't believe that he picked today, of all days, to blow their minds.
Hermione couldn't get over the fact that he had clearly been crying. It was the first time she'd ever seen him cry, aside from the night of the war, when she'd clung to his body for dear life and cried after watching Ron die. She was embarrassed about it, and was glad that Malfoy hadn't mentioned it to anyone. She assumed that he, too, felt the way she did…that they were both in pain and it should never be spoken of again.
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I took my first drink that night. I skipped what would have been my very last dinner in the Great Hall, and made my way to Hogsmeade. It was twilight, and the red glow of the sun cast a peaceful aura over the grounds where the headstones lie. I was distant from the circle, but I could see Draco kneeling in front of what I assumed to be Pansy's grave, a red rose in hand and holding his head low. I decided not to approach him, and continued on the path to the Hog's Head.
The gates of Hogwarts had been destroyed, so there was no trouble getting off the grounds that night. Looking back today, I almost wish there were. It sure would have spared me a lot of tribulation.
The bar was empty, except for a few regulars, who looked much older than the last time I'd seen them in there, two years ago. I sat down on the bar stool, ordered my first drink, and after a skeptical look from the bartender, a sad smile in return, and a glass of Firewhiskey later; I was well on my way to ruining my life.
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Hermione was feeling pretty good after her third shot. She'd been in the bar for hours, and found that she wasn't half-bad at holding her alcohol. She was chasing her last shot with a glass of Coke, and gripping to the edge of the bar, waiting out the burn.
Draco was feeling especially thirsty after packing to leave, and snuck out of the castle to get a drink. He usually hid a stash of Firewhiskey in his trunk, but had poured the last of it over Crabbe's memorial earlier that evening, because Crabbe always liked it so well. He glanced at an empty vase on the desk as he stepped through the doorway. It had once held a single red rose, enchanted to never wilt, that Pansy had given him last Valentine's Day. The flower now occupied the space at the foot of Pansy's headstone.
He opened the door to the Hog's Head and walked into the smoky bar. Normally, he wouldn't have been caught dead in a place like this, but he'd lost a good friend, he'd lost a love, he'd lost a war, and he was sure that he'd lost a good bit of himself in the last couple years of being a Death Eater. He sat down on a bar stool and ordered a glass of Firewhiskey.
Upon hearing the voice four empty seats down from her, Hermione turned to her right to see if her ears were deceiving her. No, she was right. It was him. She laughed, knowing that he could hear her, and hoping that he would. "Draco Malfoy…" She giggled. "What brings you to this fine establishment?" She spoke slowly, her words slightly slurred.
Draco looked to his left to see Hermione Granger. His first thought being, what the hell is she doing here? "Granger?"
"In the flesh."
Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. She wasn't acting like herself. Normally, she was tense and angry around him, but she was oddly relaxed tonight. He watched her down another drink, eyes wide in surprise. Oh, that explains it. He moved over the seat beside her, looking in amazement at all she'd drank. It was much more than he thought she could ever handle.
"Did I invite you over here?" She took a drink of Coke, and spoke without looking at him.
"I invited myself." He looked at her, feeling somewhat nervous. He'd never had this kind of experience with Granger, and he wasn't sure if he could take any more change right now.
"Typical."
There was a moment of silence while the bartender brought Draco his drink.
"You're going to need more than that." Hermione pointed to his glass before digging her hand into a bowl full of cashews, which she had been picking at all night.
"I'm sorry?"
"You're here to forget, right?" She looked at his confused and somewhat uncomfortable face. "You're going to need more. I've had all this and I still remember."
Draco looked sadly at her. For the first time in his life, he actually saw Hermione as having feelings. He felt sorry for her. Since holding her and trying to comfort her two nights ago, he'd started to feel like they had something in common. They'd both lost a friend and a loved one, his just happened to be two different people. He couldn't explain any of the feelings he'd had the last couple days. And he couldn't explain why he felt like talking to her, or why he cared. "Are you okay?" He braved asking the question, not sure exactly where it came from.
Hermione frowned and shook her head. She knew, despite her current state of intoxication, that he should be concerned that Malfoy had suddenly taken and interest in talking to her, but she wasn't okay, and she needed someone to know she wasn't okay. She'd spent the last two days trying to be strong in front of Harry and Ginny, but she couldn't hold it in any longer. She tried desperately to hold her tears back, but found it a waste of energy she just didn't have. "I'm just so…" She tried to find the right word.
"Lonely?" Draco had already finished two glasses of Firewhiskey, and was in the process of ordering something stronger.
Hermione thought for a minute. She hadn't really thought about being lonely, but now that he mentioned it… "Yeah, I guess I am."
Draco nodded his head. "Me too." He was beginning to feel the effects of his alcohol.
Hermione was so surprised that she looked away from the napkin she was doodling on. Had he really just admitted something personal to her? Merlin, he must really be messed up.
Draco felt her eyes on the side of his head. He took another shot and turned to face her. His eyes met hers and he could practically feel her surprise. "Don't looked so shocked, Granger."
"Sorry." She immediately forced her eyes back to her napkin, examining the picture of the owl she was working on. She internally chuckled at her own drawing. Merlin, it was awful. After a moment of criticizing her work, she looked back to Draco, who was downing another shot. She swallowed before she made the decision to ask what she'd wanted to all night. "Hey, Malfoy?"
"Yes?" He gave his response slowly and indifferently.
"If you don't mind my asking, why did you do it?"
"Do what?" He furrowed his brow and glanced in her direction.
"Become a Death Eater?"
His body tensed up and he fought himself not to flare up at her. After all, it was a fair question, if you really thought about it. He took a deep breath and switched out his empty shot glass in his hand for a full one on the bar in front of him. "It's complicated." He said it like the conversation was over, and took the shot as an extra insurance.
Hermione bit on her bottom lip, wondering if she should press the issue. She decided she probably shouldn't, but she really wanted to know his side of the story. "How?"
"It's not something I've very proud of, Granger. I did it…but I didn't like it." He hung his head, pretending to inspect something on the edge of the bar. The truth was, he couldn't stand to look at her. For the first time in his life, he was actually ashamed of something he'd done; and knew the disappointed look Hermione was probably showing all too well. He got it from his father enough. He didn't need to see it on her face, too.
"Then why did you even do it?" She couldn't understand why someone would do something they didn't want to do; especially something so terrible.
"I didn't have a choice."
"There's always a choice, Malfoy. It may not be a choice you like, but there's always a choice." She didn't mean to sound so angry, but it slipped out before she could censor it.
He was glad she let her emotion get the best of her, because for a moment he forgot whom he was talking to. He almost let her in, and that was something he definitely couldn't afford to do. "Look, I just don't want to talk about it." He took another drink, again signaling the end of a conversation.
And again, Hermione didn't get the signal. "Come on, it's an easy question. Did you like, get something out of it?"
"Granger, I said I don't want to talk about it, alright? This is not up for discussion." Merlin, she's persistant. He began to busy himself with picking the covering off the bar in a couple places.
Hermione continued to press her luck. "Yeah, but why…"
"Granger, are you always such a pain in the arse?"
She didn't really know how to respond to that question; though she got the feeling it was rhetorical, anyway.
Her look said it all. Yes, she was, in fact, always a pain in the arse.
He sighed, frustrated, for he knew this was going to go on all night if he didn't put an end to it. "You know what," he began to speak animatedly, "let's say that you had grown up thinking that dark magic was the only magic. Let's say that you father was the right-hand man to the most powerful wizard in the world."
Hermione interrupted him, furiously. "Dumbledore was the most powerful…"
He ignored her as if she'd said nothing. "And let's say that when said wizard arose from the near dead and stepped foot into your dining room one night, all the memories that you had when you were an infant came flooding back to you; horrible things, things that you didn't even know you'd seen until this day."
"Okay, I…"
"Let's say that this Dark Lord took it upon himself to use your home as his headquarters. You now have Death Eaters living in your home, and they have you and your mother doing all sorts of unthinkable tasks, nonstop, day and night. And then, when you think things can't get any worse, your father gets himself sent to Azkaban, thanks to some little incident at the Department of Mysteries." He raised his eyebrows at Hermione, as she shamefully bowed her head. After all, she was partly responsible for sending his father to prison, and they both knew it. "So now, you're stuck in a house with your mother: who's okay to live with, except for the fact that she constantly cries for your father, your aunt: who's a complete nutter altogether, about twenty or so previously homeless Death Eaters: no need to explain that, and the Dark Lord: who is looking for someone to replace your careless father." He stopped to take a drink. "Guess who he's going to pick."
"You?"
"No, not me. This has nothing to do with me. We're talking about you. Remember, Granger?
She rolled her eyes. "Fine, he picks me."
"Right. And then you're given an impossible task; especially with nosy little Gryffindors running around…"
"Hey, I told Harry not to…"
"So when someone else takes care of this task for you, you're looked down upon even more, because the deal was 'do it or you and your mother die.' But luckily, he takes pity on you, and you're forced to either get the dark mark, which is the worst pain you're ever felt in your life, by the way; or you can opt to be killed. What would you do?"
"Well…" she thought briefly. There just had to be another way. "I wouldn't become a Death Eater."
He smirked, finally making his point. "You wouldn't want to talk about it either."
Hermione smiled. Ahh, so that's his point. She watched him down another drink, pretending to ignore her. She picked up on the haunted look on his face, and for a moment she was sorry that she'd made him relive all the melancholy.
He finally sighed, becoming annoyed with her persistent stare. "What, Granger?"
"Sorry. It's just that…this is weird." She just couldn't leave well enough alone.
"And why's that?" Draco took another drink, knowing perfectly well why this was weird. He was fully aware that he was on the verge having an honest conversation with her. Granted, it was a drunken conversation, but she was right…it was weird.
"I just didn't expect you to be so torn up over any of this." She looked sadly to her hands, which were nervously playing with each other in her lap.
Draco laughed, which surprised Hermione. Of all the reactions he could have given, she hadn't anticipated this one. "You know, Granger, I'm not made of stone."
"I know..." She lied, becoming slowly afraid of angering him. For a moment she'd forgotten how dangerous he was and she was afraid she'd let her mouth get the best of her.
"No, you don't." He put his empty glass on the bar with more force than necessary and spun his stool around to face her. "You think I'm just a killer. You think I have no heart. And you think I didn't feel just as much pain as you did today at the funeral."
"I…" Hermione tried to interrupt. Draco's voice was getting more powerful and she was afraid he would start yelling.
"No, shut up, Granger!" He cut her off, continuing to raise his voice. He was letting his emotions get the best of him, but he couldn't help it. He was so overwhelmed; and even if it was Hermione Granger he was talking to, he needed to get it off his chest. "I felt something today. I felt something the last few days that I haven't felt before. Crabbe was a good friend. And I loved Pansy." He stopped to force himself to hold back tears. "We were going to get married one day. We've known it for years. We were going to get married and finally be happy. I loved her with all my heart. And yes, I have one. A bigger one than you'll ever know and it's shattered right now, Granger. So excuse me while I grieve. I know you think I'm not capable of anything other than hatred, and that's fine. I don't really give a damn what you think about me. But don't you ever, for a second, play either of their deaths off like they didn't matter; like they were less than Weasley's death. At least you got to say goodbye." He finished, breathing heavily. His skin was flushed; and Hermione thought it was the most color his fair complexion had ever held. Draco felt anxious. He wished now that he hadn't just said everything he was feeling, but he felt a sense of relief at the same time. Besides, she was drunk; what were the chances of her remembering any of this tomorrow?
Hermione was speechless, while Draco continued to drink. His explosion seemed to have sobered her up. She was quiet, and when she decided what to say, she spoke softly. "You're wrong about me."
Draco stopped mid-sip and looked at her, with the glass still attached to his lips. He smirked as he put the glass back down. "Oh, this should be good. All right, Granger. Let's hear it." He turned to her with mocked interest, waiting for what he was sure was going to be a very entertaining explanation.
"I don't think that about you. I don't think you're a killer."
"Why not? Everybody else does."
"You didn't save everybody else." She looked ashamed, like she didn't want to admit it.
"I'm sorry, what?" Draco stared at her disbelievingly. Was she really going to bring this up now?
"I would have run back in there after Ron if you hadn't grabbed me. I don't think I ever thanked you."
Draco had to admit, she surprised him. He thought an argument was going to break out, but this was so far from it, it was unreal. "To tell you the truth, I don't know why I did it."
"So you didn't mean to?" She raised her eyebrows.
"I don't know. I mean, it's not to say that I wouldn't do it again, but I've been kind of wondering about that night and everything that happened."
"Yeah. Me too."
"Look, I wasn't ever going to mention it, you know." He looked up to her.
She half-smiled and nodded her head, turning her attention back to the shot glass that had been sitting in front of her for a while now. Draco abandoned the topic and ordered another drink for himself.
Another hour of painful, drunken silence went by. The night was getting later, now into the wee hours of the morning, and even the regulars were starting to thin out. With what he decided was going to be his last shot of vodka for the night, Draco spun around in the barstool to look out into the near-empty, smoky bar. He glanced to Hermione, who was absent-mindedly playing with a straw in her glass. She really did look sad, he thought. And lonely.
He let his eyes trail from her bushy, train wreck of a ponytail down to the soft features of her face. Her profile was kind of nice, he noted. She had this cute little button nose that stuck out from her face like she always had it up in the air, though it was always completely by accident. Maybe that explained a lot of the reason he'd thought she was so stuck up over the years; she couldn't help it. She had a diamond stud in her ear, and it matched the sparkle that he caught from the corner of her eye, which was also obviously unintentional.
He continued his gaze on down her neck, where a chestnut brown ringlet was tangled in the silver chain hanging loosely over her creamy skin. The collar of her white polo shirt was uneven, as was the short-sleeved cuff, which was turned up slightly in one place, revealing even more of her muscular shoulder. That was her dominant side, Draco remembered from the countless times she'd tried to hex him; of course it would naturally be more defined than the other.
Her shirt was slightly raised up in the back, no doubt form her incessant spinning on the stool to try and relinquish her boredom. Her attire was frazzled, along with her mind. Draco leaned forward to sneak a peak at her slightly exposed back, and was able to see that, even in the darkness of the room, there was a little peach fuzz on it. One thing The Dark Lord has always liked about him was that he had good eyes.
After spending a brief moment on her thin midsection, Draco let his eyes wander on down around the curve of her bum, squeezed into a pair of tight blue jean shorts, and down her smooth, muscular legs. He swore that if he'd never seen this girl attempt (and fail) to fly a broom before, that her muscles would make him think she was a Quidditch player…and a damn good one at that.
His eyes had barely made their way to her ankles when Hermione noticed him staring at her.
"Are you alright?" She asked with slurred words, having drunk a good bit more since they last spoke an hour ago.
"I'm fine." He tried to pull his eyes away from her, but he was a lonely boy, and he was regretfully feeling a sort of…was it…lust? Want? Need, even? He didn't know; but he did know that he wanted to fill the void in his heart tonight. He just couldn't stand feeling this empty anymore. The alcohol he'd consumed just seemed to make it worse, instead of better, like he'd intended.
"Seriously, what?" She didn't buy his answer, especially after he didn't stop looking at her body. She didn't know what was going on with him. He ignored her for the past hour and now he was suddenly interested in her. What the hell?
"I was just thinking." He thought of how best to word this. "I could go for a walk. Are you interested?" He watched her raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow, run her tongue across her top row of teeth while thinking, and set her glass of near-melted ice on the bar. She half-smiled after a minute of pondering and nodded her head.
He smirked in return. Excellent. He tossed some galleons on the bar, more than covering both their tabs, and helped steady Hermione as she practically fell out of the stool and into his chest. "Whoa. Slow down."
She smiled. What the hell am I doing? It briefly crossed her mind, but was pushed aside when Draco linked his arm with hers, strolling out of the bar doors by her side. His arm was muscular, as she had scarcely noticed a couple nights ago, but failed to recall until now. She was lonely, and she missed the feel of a warm body near her own. She'd gotten used to sleeping near Ron, and for the last two nights, any sleep she got at all was restless without him there.
"It's beautiful." Draco made the observation as they neared the end of the dirt path in Hogsmeade, and approached a large weeping willow tree. The air was warm with a chilly breeze, but it was just how he liked it. He looked thoughtfully to Hermione, and saw that a tear was rolling off her cheek, glistening in the moonlight.
Hermione sobbed in reply. She didn't want to cry, not again, not in front of him again. He was going to see her as weak, and that was the last thing she wanted right now. She just wanted his company. She knew that she shouldn't want it, but she couldn't help it. She didn't even care if it was Malfoy, as long as it was somebody, anybody that made her feel safe like Ron had.
Draco shifted his arm and took her hand in his, leading her to the tree. They sat down on one side; the side that was close to the river neither one knew was there before. They'd never been allowed to travel this far on their class trips, and they both currently wondered why not, as this were clearly the most beautiful part of Hogsmeade.
"Malfoy?" After a few minutes of resting against the trunk of the tree and listening to Draco breaking twigs and picking at the grass, Hermione got him to look at her. "How long?"
"How long what?" He furrowed his brow at her ambiguous question. He was learning that she was full of these kinds of questions and statements.
"How long does it hurt?"
"Losing somebody?" He had a feeling it's what she meant. Merlin knows he'd lost enough people throughout his life to know the feeling.
"Yeah. Does it ever go away?"
He was still for a moment, breaking the twigs in his hands with more force than before. "Yes. It goes away." Thinking about it made his heart ache again, partly for the loss he'd just suffered, and partly because he knew he was lying to her. "Slowly but surely, it goes away."
She let her tears fall more freely. She had to give him props for at least trying to sound convincing, but she could tell from his voice that it was all a lie. She didn't know where the impulse came from, but she scooted her body near him and laid her head on his shoulder.
At first, he jerked away a little, but when it didn't faze her, he hesitantly stretched his arm out around her. He could feel her body jerking as she sobbed. He replayed the scene from the other night, and stroked her hair, making shushing sounds to calm her.
After a few minutes of her thoughts running wild, wondering how in the hell she ever ended up here tonight, with Malfoy of all people, and weighing the pros and cons of what she was about to do in her head, Hermione's body took over and sat up from his chest. He looked at her quizzically, and she didn't waste any time as she latched her lips to his, using all her anger, sadness and frustration as the passion driving it.
Draco was beyond surprised when he felt her soft, wet lips on his. She just completely floored him, but he kissed her back, desperate for companionship. He never saw himself kissing a Mudblood, but then again, he had pretty much had it with anything that had to do with Dark Magic. Most of the Purebloods he knew had tried to ruin his life, and almost get him killed, so why should he associate with that kind of lifestyle anymore? As far as he was concerned, Mudbloods didn't kiss half-bad.
Hermione kissed him harder and harder until she didn't think about Ron anymore. As soon as the thought was out of her head, she pulled away, breathing heavily and staring with apprehensive eyes at Draco. He, too, looked somewhat uneasy, and she decided that the best way to handle it was to kiss him again.
Draco found himself feeling guilty for enjoying this. He just lost the love of his life two days ago, and now he was snogging the girl he always considered to be his enemy. He knew the last two days' events had affected him, but was this normal? Was it normal to feel this overwhelmed by desire for human contact? He felt like he needed this. He kissed her more feverishly to eliminate his own feelings of sadness and guilt, because it was obvious that she'd thrown all hers out the window.
Their advancements grew in ardor, and they were finally forced to come up for fresh air. When they did so, it hit Hermione that her shorts her unzipped, that her shirt was pushed up to reveal her stomach and back, and that Draco's shirt was off and protecting her head from the ground.
Draco noticed her uneasiness. Oh no. Please don't back out on me now. Please don't change your mind. "You okay?" He managed to speak through heavy breaths. He was supporting himself over top of her, and droplets of sweat were dripping onto her smooth stomach.
His voice interrupted her spastic thoughts. She focused her eyes on his face. His eyes were darker than earlier, and his lips her swollen from her kissing. She traced the outline of his head with her eyes. The moonlight was shining bright behind him, and his body created a shadow over her. She didn't know how to respond, and didn't get a chance to before Draco's anxiety got the best of him.
"Granger?" He had barely given her enough time to answer the first time, but he was impatient. They both knew it; it wasn't some big secret. And he really wanted to get a move on with this.
"Sorry, I just…"She shook her head, trying so desperately to clear it out. No such luck. "This is so fast."
He sighed. Here we go. I should have known this wasn't going to work.
"No, it's just that, we're both lonely and grieving…"
"All the more reason to just get it over with and not dwell on it, then."
"I don't do this kind of thing, Malfoy. I'm not that girl."
"I'm not asking you to be. You started this, Granger, not me."
"I know, I just…"
"What?" He was started to get really impatient now.
"Well don't you think we should talk about this?"
"Forgive me, but I'm a little sick of talking." He'd felt like he'd done more talking in the past few hours than he had in the past few years. He was ready to stop talking about everything.
"Yeah, but…"
"Look, Granger, either you're going to sleep with me tonight or you're not. Now which one is it going to be?"
She bit her lip, thinking it over.
"Here, let me help you." Draco kissed her with what seemed to be more passion than either had been able to muster before, and pulled back when he thought she'd had enough to sway her decision.
She swore she saw stars just before she felt his lips pulling away, so agonizingly far away from where she wanted them to be right now.
"Well?"
She kissed his again with the same level of passion, possibly more, trying to get one up on him.
Draco smiled in the middle of her kiss. I guess that's a yes.
ooooo
A/N: So that's my first chapter, I hope you all enjoyed it, and I'm looking forward to lots of reviews! I'm psyched to see what people think about this. I know it's a little Out of character, but come one, they just fought a war and lost the loves of their lives. Plus, I swear that after reading more of this fic, you'll understand why after seeing how much Hermione and Draco are forced to change. Thanks in advance for the reviews, and I hope to be as speedy as possible with updating. I actually have some of the future scenes written, I'm just trying to decide how to make it better. Your reviews can help with that! ;)
-Amanda
