Say something, I'm giving up on you
I'll be the one, if you want me to
Anywhere, I would've followed you
Say something, I'm giving up on you
She had found him thanks to the Marauder's Map. Although, truth be told, she hadn't exactly needed it. He had been spending more and more time up in the astronomy tower, alternating between looking around space with hatred and staring moodily up at the sky. She crept quietly up the stairs to find him engaging in the latter, his shoulder heaving as he took shallow, unsteady breaths. She reached a hand out towards him before she even realised it and the only thing that kept her from touching him was their distance. He leaned over the rail of the tower, staring out into the darkness as if it held an untold secret. Taking a deep breath, Hermione stepped towards him, but his shoulders stiffened at the sound of her feet on the floor.
"Don't." His voice was soft, but hard and it surprised her how much that one word hurt her. Irritation swelled within her as she froze, her jaw tightening. She was only trying to help, for goodness sake! Must he always be such a git?
"Malfoy, if you would just listen-."
"No." He cut her off, spinning to face her. "Did you really think this could go somewhere? Elite Pureblood," he gestured derisively at himself, "and the Wizarding World's favourite muggle born?" A part of her swelled at the fact that, even angry, he wasn't calling her a mudblood anymore. "That you, precious princess of the Golden Trio, could save me and make a difference? We were never meant to get along, let alone be anything more." She was shaking her head before he had even finished, stubbornness and anger building at his words. He wouldn't even try! After all they'd been through together, he was still a coward!
"I could do it! I could change their minds about you!" Draco scoffed.
"Ever the Gryffindor. Running headlong into things without even thinking. It's a miracle you, Potty, and the Weasel are still alive, rushing into things like you do." He sneered, but Hermione could see the sadness in his eyes. She took another step towards him.
"Stop it, okay? Just stop." Surprise flitted across his face, before he tamped it down and put on that blank mask of his. She scoffed, still moving towards him. He always resorted to insulting Harry and Ron when he got too close to anything resembling real feelings, hoping that the distraction would throw her off the scent. When she was an arms length away, she stopped, extending her hand. Draco recoiled, pressing his back to the rail as though touching her would somehow undo him.
"Get away from me."
"Just let me help you."
"You don't understand!" He was yelling now, his voice echoing in the tower. "You don't know what I have to do. What I've already done!" How could he touch her? Knowing what now stained the flesh of his left arm, how could he ever consider himself worthy of lying even one finger on her? She looked at him with eyes full of compassion. Not pity, but genuine compassion. She cared. About someone as utterly worthless as him. And that made it all the more clear to him that he could never be with her. How could he ever taint something so pure? So beautiful? More to the point, what if the Dark Lord found out? What if his mental shields failed? His family was already a powerful weakness. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone being able to use her against him. He would be ruined in every sense of the word. He would do whatever it took to keep her safe, kill whoever he was sent after. He would be a slave to the Dark Lord's whims. And no amount of good behaviour would ever guarantee her safety. Hell, the noseless arsehole would probably kill her just to spite him and Potter. He sighed, coming once again to the only possible conclusion. Reaching out, he pulled Hermione against him, breathing in the scent of her hair as he wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him back fiercely, pouring all of her passion into the embrace and trying desperately to ignore the fact that it felt like a goodbye. Just as quickly as it began, it was over, Draco slipping out of her hold and moving towards the stairs in three, long strides. Hermione's body felt cold where he had been pressed against her. She knew he had done terrible things. You had to in order to be branded a Death Eater. She knew he had some horrible assignment looming over his head. And, rather pridefully, she had thought she could change his mind. That maybe what was building between them would be enough to sway him to the right side of the war. It hurt to finally realise that it wasn't enough. That she wasn't enough.
"I know I can help you. If you would just talk to me."
"Being a swot isn't enough this time, Granger."His voice was cold. "No one can help with this."
"The Order can hide you if that's what you need. They can hide us!"
"There is no us!" The statement felt like a slap and Hermione physically recoiled. Draco felt sick to his stomach as hurt shimmered in her eyes.
"You aren't this person. Don't let them change you."
"You don't know who I am. You never did." He turned away then, moving toward the stairs.
"Malfoy! Don't do this." He didn't slow, didn't even look her way. He couldn't. If he did, he might actually listen to her. "Draco, please." His given name on her lips gave him pause and he clenched his fists at his sides, nails digging into the flesh to keep from going to her.
"Goodbye, Hermione." As he disappeared down the stairs, Hermione felt her legs go out from beneath her. She knelt on the floor, her face in her hands, and finally broke. He was gone. His father had finally won, had turned his son into an unwilling monster. Her sobs chased Draco down the stairs. And he cried with her.