Draco Malfoy's Point of View
I leaned over the sink, splashing water on my face. That way I could pretend to myself and anyone who might happen to walk into this abandoned bathroom that I wasn't crying.
I was so stupid. I was sixteen! How could I manage to kill one of the greatest wizards of all time? It wasn't possible... I wasn't good enough.
And Voldemort was going to kill me.
I gripped the sink hard, as if it could hold up the weight that was baring down on my shoulders. I had to accept that he was going to kill me. But I couldn't... I didn't want to die. I'd barely even lived! If only that stupid vanishing cabinet would work, damn it!
"What are you doing here?" Moaning Myrtle said behind me.
I considered snapping something rude to her. She knew why I was here. She'd found me in here many times over the last couple months. She was annoying, but she seemed to fancy me, so I didn't have to worry about her running her mouth to anyone who would listen as long as I was nice.
"Are you... are you okay?" Said a different voice from behind me.
I turned, my eyes wide.
"What do you want?" I spat.
Hermione Granger stood there, biting her lip.
Hermione's Point of View
I should go. I should just leave. Who cares if he's been crying? He's stupid prat. He'd been nothing but cruel to me, and my friends. But that part of me, the one that stupidly couldn't abandoned someone in such distress, kept my feet planted firmly on the ground.
"I asked if you were okay." I said, my voice surprisingly firm considering the whirlwind of emotions going through me.
"Does it look like I'm okay?" Draco snapped, turning around and leaning his hands back on the counter.
I could see his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were closed. He looked thinner than usual, and it looked as if someone had taken a paint brush dipped in black paint and smudged it under his eyes. He'd once been handsome. I had to admit that, no matter how much I loathed Draco Malfoy. But right now, all traces of that handsome boy were gone, replaced with this tired looking man.
"No." I said, my voice quiet. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
I don't know why I said it, but the words were out there. If only he hadn't looked so helpless, so lost, I could have just turned on the spot and hurried away. If I only hadn't taken this abandoned corridor and heard someone sobbing inside. If only, if only.
"I don't think you can be of much assistance, thanks." Draco said bitterly, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror narrowed to slits.
Even I could tell he was putting on a show. His words had no heat behind them.
"Just go, Hermione." Hermione. Not Mudblood, or Granger, or something derogatory.
"Trust me, I wish I could." I said, stepping forward again.
I watched, almost as if I wasn't living in my own body, as my hand reached out and gently touched his shoulder. I could feel his whole body trembling underneath my touch. His shirt was thin and I could feel the heat of his body through his shirt. It felt like he had a fever.
"Are you sick?" I asked, peering closer at his face. "Is that what's wrong."
"I'm not sick." Draco spat.
"Let me check." I said, pushing the hair off his forehead with my hand.
He felt hot, but I couldn't tell if it was anything serious. Weirdly enough, Draco stood still, letting me touch him. This was so out of character for both of us, who couldn't stand each other. Draco obviously needed someone to be there for him, and I couldn't not help someone in need.
"My mother always said the best way to check was... to... well, to kiss the persons forehead. She says your lips can judge someone's heat better than your hands." I said awkwardly.
Draco's mouth was a thin line, but he flicked his hair back off his forehead and waited. Hesitantly, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his forehead. It was wet from the water he'd been splashing on it when I'd first entered.
"No, you're- you're fine." I said, wondering why I sounded so breathless.
"No, I'm not!" Draco shouted, his hands balled into fists.
I backed up a step at his sudden rage. Draco rubbed a hand over his face.
"I'm not okay. I need help, Hermione." Draco said quietly. "I need help, but there's no one I can turn to."
"You can turn to me." I said, my voice equally soft. I don't know why I said it, but I knew at once that I meant it.
Draco laughed bitterly. "I can't, actually. You're so... you're so pure. Kind. Ironic, isn't it? The mudblood is the pure one while the pureblood is the one who's dirty. Sick. Tainted."
"You're not tainted." I said, grabbing his hand.
Draco and I both looked down at our intertwined hands. His hands were pale and much larger than mine, the fingers thin. They looked like the kind of hands that would be good at painting, or playing the piano. Creating something beautiful, not doing something evil.
"I think that you could be good, if you wanted to." I said, staring up into his grey eyes. "And I think that you want to be, too. I think you're just afraid that your parents will hate you. That we won't accept you."
"I forgot," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Hermione Granger: thinks she knows everything."
Yet despite the harshness of his words, his hand continued to hold mine.
"I don't think I know everything." I said, moving a bit closer. "But I can see it in your eyes. You're not evil, Draco. Stop pretending to be."
"Why are you doing this?" Draco asked. Now he was the one moving closer to me. This close, he was much taller than I was. My head had to tilt back a bit to look up into those eyes of his. "You realize I've done nothing but be an asshole to you, all these years, don't you?"
"People do weird things to get accepted." I said, my voice wavering slightly. I didn't like how he affected me, being this close. The heat radiating from his body didn't warm me at all, but instead made my shiver.
"How do you know I didn't do those things just because I really am evil? Dark?"
"Why are you so persistent on making yourself out to be the bad guy?" I countered. "Why do you have to act as if you hate me?"
"Because I'm scared of what I might do if I stop hating you." He said, his voice barely a whisper.
His free hand pushed some of my hair off my face, lingering gently on my cheek.
"I'm not." I said, my voice firm, and a little too loud. It sounded odd in our quiet bubble of whispered words.
Draco grinned, but it wasn't the malicious grin I was used to seeing on his face. This was a true, genuine smile, one that enhanced his features instead of making him seem cruel.
"Maybe you should be." He said, and before I could ask why his lips found mine, gentle, soft, but with an underlying feeling of urgency.
I gasped but didn't pull away. My hands wound themselves into his pale hair and Draco's hands wrapped around my back, pulling me closer to him. My breathing started getting shallow when he pulled away.
"I can't." He said, turning away from me.
I felt close to tears. "And why not?" I asked, hating how I could hear the thickness of tears in my voice, knowing that he could hear it to.
Draco turned back to me, looking as though the weight of the world was baring down on him.
"Because I refuse to ruin you the way I ruined myself." He said, and with that he turned and exited the bathroom, not looking back at me.
I resisted the urge to sink to the ground and wipped the tears off my eyes.
No ematter what Draco said, I was determined. I could always do what I set my mind to, and I was going to save Draco Malfoy. From himself as well as everyone else.
I just randomly got inspired to do this. Will not be continuing, most likely, unless I randomly get the urge to write more Dramione. Leave a review! - C
