Summary: Hermione finds Draco in the bathroom instead of Harry...
Disclaimer: I own the plot bunnies...
Spoilers: HBP (btw, this was my FAVORITE scene the in the book; I cried so hard that I had to actually put the book down and get a Kleenex, it was utterly pathetic)
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"Tears are the words the heart can't say."
-Unknown
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Her head hurt. Not the usual dull ache that had been tormenting her for, well, several months; but a pain the started behind her eyes and crept through her brain like locusts. She rubbed her hand on her temple but it didn't help. She sighed in quiet frustration. This was her life. And what a great fucking life it was.
She rolled her eyes at her own indignation. She really hated herself sometimes. Oh, great, now she had developed some sort of twisted self-loathing complex. Beautiful. Could someone just shoot her now? Please? She was annoying even herself these days. A constant struggle with her own consciousness. She sighed again. And she had thought this walk would calm her.
She looked around, inspecting her surroundings. Noticing the doorway beside her she smiled faintly. That bathroom. So many memories. It felt like centuries ago. No, longer than centuries. She almost couldn't remember those times. Those carefree years. They hadn't felt so then, but now, after so much had happened, now she knew that they had been easy, calm even.
A faint sound was coming from the bathroom beside her. Perhaps Myrtle's upset again, she thought, pressing her palm against the wooden door. She paused. She really had no business prying into Myrtle's personal life, however often she subjected it other people's opinions. But then again, Myrtle had kept the secret about them brewing Polyjuice potion in her bathroom. Setting her resolve, Hermione gently pushed on the door and allowed herself enterance. What she saw astounded her, and froze her on the spot.
She could've recognize that head of blonde hair anywhere. She had, after all, spent the past six years wanting to blow it off its owner's neck. Sadly, she'd been unable to do so. Still, here he was in the girl's lavatory. And it didn't seem to bother him that much. He was leaning over one of the sinks, head lowered, Myrtle floating next to him. Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. He was crying. He was actually crying. The foul, loathesome cockroach of a human being was actually crying. There were tears streaming down his face and his normally clear, unfeeling, blue eyes were red and damp.
Draco Malfoy was crying. And he was staring directly at her. Malfoy watched her in the cracked glass of the mirror. Hermione met the reflection of his eyes. Neither moved. Hermione was still dumbstruck, standing in the door. Draco was horrified and frozen by embarrassment. And then things changed.
He moved first, raising his hand to wipe the shine from his cheeks, but his eyes never left Hermione. She released the breath that she'd been holding since she'd stepped inside, still not breaking eye contact. She took a hestitant step forward and he immediately tensed up. Breathing again, she continued her slow march toward him.
When she finally reached his side, she said nothing. But the hand that had once covered her mouth was rested on his shoulder. He looked at the hand, then back at its owner. He frowned, confused by her actions. But she didn't answer the unspoken question. And she didn't remove her hand.
She had no idea why he was crying but it had to be pretty damn bad for him to do so. She didn't ask questions. She didn't probe or pry or analyze. But she did move her hand. Grasping the edge of her cloak in her fingertips, she nimbly wiped at the remaining tears dotting his pale face. He stayed quiet, being still stunned that she was doing what she was.
When all the tears were gone, Hermione let both her hands fall back to her sides. There were questions between them. Mostly questions that could wait to be answered. Some that could even be ignored. Both knew that when they stepped out of this bathroom, things would go back to the way they were. They had to. If they didn't...well, that couldn't happen.
She stared at him. He was apparently deep in thought. She reached her hand up and brushed the tiniest piece of platinum blonde hair out of his face and smiled. He looked at her again, his cheek turning into her palm. He sighed, letting his eyes flutter closed.
"I'm sorry."
Two words. And hell would freeze over before anything else meant more to him. His eyes opened when he felt cold stinging his cheek. Her hand was gone and so was she. He heard the door swing shut. His hand touched his cheek where she had held him.
He let his hand fall and his eyes scanned the room around him. Myrtle was perched atop the sinks, smiling devilishly. Draco glanced up at her and smiled.
"Are you feeling better, my dear?" she asked.
"Much."
"Good."
"Myrtle," he began, "I think I've just solved my problem."
(--)
Life continued.
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A/N: I love writing Hermione and Draco one-shots. They're so much fun. I'm thinking about writing another. Anyway, R&R, please! I love you!