Draco stepped into the abandoned girl's restroom where that ghost girl spooked around somewhere, slowly walking toward the cracked mirror. His steps echoed in the room, making a squishing sound when his soles hit a puddle of water.
The noise was strange, but surprisingly calming, an odd contrast to the usual buzzing of Hogwart's corridors.
In here, the only sound was produced by himself. He was in absolute control of the situation until he slipped on the wet floor, hitting the marble with his back and smacking his head.
Bright stars flashed in front of his eyes and, at the same time, darkness threatened to overtake him.
He moved his hand to the back of his head, groaning, fighting for consciousness, which he finally managed to hold. Draco kept lying on the wet floor for some more minutes, contemplating his next move.
He seemed to not have any serious injuries. He had had luck. He chuckled upon that: Luck. Him. He had had luck. Well, once in a lifetime, everybody had to have some luck, didn't they?
When he first heard the Dark Lord had an assignment for him, he had been very happy, thinking he was a lucky man. Well, until he had found out that his assignment was a punishment for the failure of his father, practically bound to have him killed. And if he failed, his family was to be killed, too.
Setting a sixteen year old to kill the greatest wizard ever heard of and threatening to kill his family if he did not succeed? Voldemort's idea of a joke.
That realisation had been the exact moment for him to recognise that he had followed the wrong man. He had opened his eyes and saw that the Dark Lord, while praising pure blood, was a Halfblood himself, having grown up upon Muggles. More than that, he had lost his power, when he had been feared the most, to an infant.
Draco groaned and wished desperately for a headache potion, while struggling to get up. Suddenly the door burst open.
"Yes, sure, take instructions from a book if you want to, but leave me out of this... Merlin, he can't just take instructions from a... Malfoy!"
Draco groaned again, and pushed himself up, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He cursed silently when he realised that his hair was a mess and his school uniform soiled. The moment he stood upright- facing Hermione Granger, however, that perfect Malfoy smirk covered his annoyance.
"I don't know who you think cannot take instructions from a Malfoy, Granger, but I'm sure you're wrong. Us Malfoys are capable of things you cannot even imagine. What are you doing here, all alone without Potthead and his sidekick?"
Hermione clutched her bag, a determined expression on her face. She was pissed anyway because Harry and Ron were not willing to take her advice, no matter how often she brought it up. Malfoy was not going to get to her, too. Actually, a small fight might just be what she needed to release the tension. "In fact, ferret, I've seen exactly what your father is capable of and I have to say I was not impressed, it was simply not enough. Besides, this is a girl's restroom. I guess you should explain why you're here, not me."
Malfoy pushed some hair back that had fallen into his eyes, heaving a deep breath and closing his eyes. "Listen, Granger, I'm in no mood for this. I'll be delighted to insult you again, say, same time, same place next Thursday. But right now, I'd recommend you leave immediately."
Hermione set her bag against a stall and crossed her arms. "Well, no, I won't.".
She was not going to leave. She needed a break from Harry who carried that book around all day, and Ron, being dragged around by Lavender. One of the few places she knew neither of them ever went or would look for her was here, right were moaning Myrtle... well, lived.
Draco clenched his jaw. He was not going to leave his sanctuary of peace and silence just because that know-it-all wanted him to. "Well, fine, whatever. I don't care, but I'm not going to leave either."
"Fine with me." Hermione narrowed her eyes when Malfoy turned his back on her and walked over to the mirror. She took out her wand to dry a spot where she could sit and read, when Malfoy spun around, aiming at her with his wand.
"Put that away" he managed to get out through gritted teeth, glaring at her.
Hermione stared at him, eyes wide, for a second. "I was about to dry a spot on the floor... Gosh, you're edgy. You ought to get more sleep, if you asked me..."
Draco closed the space between them with three large steps. "Nobody's asking you. What would you know? You know nothing about me. If you were me, you would not have slept either. You would probably have wet your pants countless times by now." He was towering over her, glaring down.
Hermione had her wand in her hand and she knew for sure that she was as skilled with it as he was, probably even more, under normal circumstances. But right now, Draco Malfoy looked desperate, fearsome and very edgy. Not a man one should give reason to hex, because she had no doubt he would do so without regarding the consequences.
"Okay, Malfoy, fine. I'll put it away, see?" She shoved the wand into her sleeve, making sure she was able to grab it again in a split second. She did not want to be completely unarmed in front of that madman. "It's gone now, okay? See? It's gone. It's just that I thought... Well, your eyes, you see, they... never mind" Her hands shook when she raised one to gently push his wand out of her face, it had made her nervous to have it nearly shoved up her nose. "You're right. I know nothing about you. But I just wanted to dry a spot on the floor. Please do not threaten me again, Malfoy. I will be forced to hex you into next week if you do that ever again, I promise. But it's okay. I put the wand away now. You can step back now, you know?"
Draco narrowed his eyes, staring at her for another second, then shrugged and turned, once more walking over to the mirrors. Great. Now he had that goody-goody-two-shoes Granger bothering him. He had come into the restroom to be on his own, away from the looks people gave him. Admiring, suspicious, begging, hateful glances that were shot at him everywhere. Hell, why could people not just simply not care about him? He was rich, famous and good-looking and it annoyed him to no end. He raised feelings in almost everybody, good or bad... Well, except Granger. Granger seemed to be oblivious to his taunts and insults and she had never blushed when he so much as glanced at her. Hermione Granger just did not care about him. Well, if she knew what he was up to, she would care. She would hate him. She would try to stop him.
Draco's eyes widened for a brief moment when he realised he wanted that. He wanted her to hate him, try to stop him, to glare at him, to shout at him, anything.
He thought that he wanted people not to care, but when they actually didn't he was not satisfied, either. He was a fucked up kind of man...
Hermione quietly sat down, taking 'Advanced Runes' out of her bag and opening it where she had last stopped to read, but her eyes did not scan the page but Draco Malfoy instead.
Actually, her instincts told her to grab her stuff and run, fast and far, but her pride told her to stay. She would not let that boy drive her out of her sanctuary of peace and silence, even if it meant duelling with him.
She knew very well what he was capable of, he had just recently broken Harry's nose after all, trying to leave him in the train to possibly bleed to death, hiding him, and preventing any cries for help, but Harry had been terribly stupid that day by sneaking into that compartment and not expecting an attack.
Hermione herself was cautious, expecting him to jump at her any time now, not looking away from him.
Draco leaned on a sink, staring into a mirror. His eyes were swollen and red, his hair falling into his eyes, his clothing soaked and soiled. He slammed his fist onto the sink, clenching his jaw and staring at himself. He had to get that cupboard to work or it meant death to his family.
Hermione flinched when Draco's fist collided with the marble of the sink, but stayed silent, not wanting to draw any attention.
Draco moved his hand through his hair in a desperate motion. If only someone could help him... Snape offered his help on every chance he got, but he was afraid that, when he talked to the man he knew practically his entire life, he would crack and spill his fears and doubts and he knew that he had to be terribly cautious with what he told the Deatheaters. If anything, the smallest detail, of his thoughts slipped through, he was a just as dead man as his parents.
Oh, he did not want to kill Dumbledore. He was the only one who could possibly help him get out of this mess, but what did one say? 'Hello Professor, I've tried to kill you all term, but now I realised I just am not able to and therefore I switched sides and want your help now. Oh, and you have to help my father. Yes, he's tried to kill various students of this school since I visit it, most of them being favourites of yours, but still... what? Oh yeah, he tried to kick you out, too, but, anyway... help?'
Yes, that was so going to work... He smirked at himself in the mirror in bitter humour, almost bursting out in a fit of laughter because adding to his misery was the funny fact that the Dark Lord was an impatient wizard who would summon him soon if he did not succeed.
Draco was capable of Occlumency, his aunt had taught him well, but it needed a more than skilled and trained Occlumens to shut Voldemort himself out. Draco was sure he would not be able to hold his barriers for a mere three seconds. And then he would see it. See what Draco thought of him, where he wanted him to go and shove his plan, see that all Draco wanted to do was run, fast and far.
At that, Draco was no longer able to hold back and the mad laughter broke free, rolling over his tongue and shaking him.
Hermione flinched furiously when Malfoy started to laugh, the book falling into a puddle of water.
"What the...? Merlin, Malfoy, you scared the hell out of me!"
Draco turned, still grinning, staring at Hermione. "I scared you, didn't I? Well, Granger, What would you know about fear? You and your healthy little muggle family, your friends that stand by your side every second all around the clock, you and your marks and talent and skill." He spit the words out as if they were dirt on his tongue.
Hermione stood up, the fear suddenly leaving her body, replaced with anger. Her whole body shook. "Yes, Malfoy, right, what would I know about fear? Learning that there was a reason I've always been different than my classmates and being sent to a school I knew not a single person in, in a world that I never dreamed could exist. Going to Hogwarts and realising I was still different, at least in the eyes of some, and seeing the madman who wants every muggleborn to die rise to power after I've so often risked my life stopping him. Knowing he wants me dead, personally, not only because I'm muggleborn but because I've threatened and humiliated him and am friends with his one true enemy, yes, Malfoy, my life is flowers and butterflies, sure."
Draco smirked, unimpressed, and opened his mouth to answer, but Hermione cut him off.
"What would you know about my life, huh? Draco fucking Malfoy, son of a Deatheater who got away last time to spend his fortune, loyal follower of the insane wizard that's shaking the foundations of the wizarding world. What do you have to fear, Malfoy? You're a pureblood and, despite being a git and a bully, you did nothing of what you'd have to fear any consequences. When the 'Dark Lord' is finally defeated, you will not have to fear a thing, because you are just a boy. But until then? Do you think He will care if I'm just a girl? When he gets the chance to kill me, I'm dead. I'm in constant danger of being killed. What do you have to fear?"
Draco stood there a second, not knowing what to say, seeing Hermione Granger trembling, a fire in her eyes that told him that she did not curl up and hide when afraid, but held her head high and fight, no matter what.
She was stronger than him. He, who went into a girl's bathroom to cry.
Hermione grabbed her bag and made her way over to the door, humiliated that he'd been able to get over her defences and cause this outbreak. She was nearly there when she heard his voice.
Draco had known his errors for quite some time now, but he had never actually thought of the victims being anyone but himself and his family. Now he stood there, and the words Hermione Granger had just thrown in his direction had told him that his errors affected even more people. The circles his deeds had drawn were amazingly huge and for the first time in a very long time, he felt sorry for what he had done. Done and was about to do.
"I'm sorry."
Hermione stopped, dumbfounded. She had never before heard those words in that voice and it felt as if he really meant it. Even more, it felt as if he was sorry for so much more than only making fun of her, she couldn't quite grasp it, but there was something he really needed to be sorry for, and he was. "What for?"
Draco snorted. "Don't push it, Granger. And don't you dare walk around school, telling people I said that. Look, sorry, okay, that's it. There's no more you'll get." He desperately hoped she would accept his apology. He knew very well that nothing could excuse what he was about to do, that it would not help him a knut and that Hermione Granger would not even know what kind of apology she would accept if she did, but he needed her to accept it nevertheless.
Hermione clutched her bag and turned again. "I... okay. Fine."
Draco blinked several times. She had just accepted his apology, knowing full well that there was more to it, without investigating further. She did not question his intentions. She took his word and that was enough for that muggleborn witch.
He nodded and Hermione shook her head.
"I don't get you, Malfoy. But seeing the state you're in, I guess you don't, either."
She took a step towards him, not caring if they had had that conversation before and that it had gone all wrong. "You look like hell."
"Yes, well, you hair's bushy. Anything else?"
Hermione cracked a small smile "Malfoy, whatever is disturbing you, tell someone. You don't even have to tell me. Tell Snape, if you must, but I recommend you tell Dumbledore."
Draco did not flinch at the name, but his eyes narrowed and Hermione noticed, completely misinterpreting his reaction.
"You don't trust him. Fine. Then tell Snape; I know he's trying to get out of you what's wrong anyway. But, seriously, you've done no real harm as much as I can tell. Nothing a week's worth detention would not fix. Well, that thing you did to Harry on the train was nasty, but we'll be able to look over that. Dumbledore will help you. Get you out of that madman's reach before he gets a hold on you."
Draco shook his head, yearning to yell at her that that madman had a firm grip on him already, but managed to keep his demeanour.
"Why do you do that?"
Hermione smiled. "Because I believe that everybody deserves a second chance. You can't help your heritage. I believe that there is the slightest possibility that, deep inside, you may be a nice person."
Nobody had ever said that Draco Malfoy may be a nice person. He had been told he was worthless, not good enough, a git, an asshole. He had been seen as a leader, a good-for-nothing, a troublemaker and a wealthy pureblood, but never once had he been called a nice person. Come to think of it, the reason for this possibly was that he, in fact, was no nice person. He was attempting to kill an old man.
Draco took a step forward "A nice person? I'm not a nice person, Granger."
Hermione smiled hesitantly and touched his shoulder "But you may be."
Her heart raced. Was this a trick? He seemed to be honest, while still hiding something, but his thankfulness for her words was genuine and she felt that he needed someone to comfort him. Hermione was not sure what his intentions were, but she felt that it could not be to trick her. Therefore, she gave in to her instincts when she touched his shoulder and he did not pull away, just stared at her fingers.
Draco could not quite voice what he felt when touched by Hermione Granger, but to his surprise, it was not disgust. Her touch was light, comforting, reassuring. Something he had only ever experienced with his mother, no one else, but as similar as it seemed, it was not. It was something completely different, and he did not know what or why and it drove him to lean in and kiss her.
Hermione's eyes grew wide and her head screamed, "Run!" but her body reacted in leaning against Draco and gripping his shoulder, opening her quivering lips and granting him access.
First, Draco was surprised by his own actions, almost drawing back, but then Hermione's actions took him off guard and his tongue traced hers before he even knew what happened.
He suddenly felt warm and comfortable, slightly fuzzy even. All his troubles were forgotten for the moment, chased away by the intense feeling of her tongue against his.
Hermione felt as if the world spun faster now; her heart raced. She did not know why, but she could not bring herself to pull back. She had the feeling that this was not only what Draco needed but what she needed, too, to forget all about her troubles. Especially what she needed to forget about Ron. Therefore, she snaked her arms around Draco's neck and slowly closed her eyes.
When Draco felt Hermione's fingers searching their way over his shoulders around his neck he grew more confident that this was not a dangerous mistake but just the right thing to do. He placed his hands right over her hips and intensified the kiss, exhaling slowly, humming against her lips.
When they both pulled back they kept their eyes closed, unsure if they would be able to look into each other's eyes.
Hermione drew up the courage first, expecting to meet his stare and smiling when she found that he was afraid to look at her, too.
The touch that met his cheek like a feather startled Draco. He had expected her to be angry, even if she had allowed him to kiss her. When he felt her shivering he opened his eyes and met her gaze, all warm and smiling, reassuring. He opened his mouth, just about to say something, when his left forearm started stinging, the pain growing more intense with every passing second.
Voldemort was summoning him. He would demand an explanation. He'd better go, not to make the Dark Lord even angrier than he already was.
Draco shut his true emotions from his eyes. He had to keep Hermione away from him, he did not know what he would do if she followed him now and he did not want know what she would do if she found out what he was up to.
He forced a cold smirk on his face "Not only a Mudblood but easy to get, too. Well, I expected nothing better".
Tears stung in her eyes when Hermione stared ahead as Draco left the restroom, the reassuring smile falling from her lips. It had been a trick. She should have known. Her instincts had failed her again, just as they had with Ron. She had thought he had liked her, just as she had thought she had gotten through to Malfoy. Despair grabbed her, her stomach feeling like some icy water had just filled it and she let go, going over to the wall where her book was, grabbing it, clutching it to her chest and sliding down the wall, crying.
Draco stormed through the halls, out of the entrance doors and towards the Forbidden Forest. He half hoped someone would stop him, any teacher, Dumbledore even, and force him to spill what he was up to. A tiny part of him wanted Hermione to come after and stop him, but he knew that this would put her in more danger than she already was. Well, killing Dumbledore would have this effect, too, after all, on everybody.
He was not in love with her, Merlin no, but there was something about her that drew him to her, something he could not voice, and he did not want her to suffer, but he did not find a way out.
Before he reached the spot in the forest he knew a portkey would be hidden to transport him to the Dark Lord, he cleared his mind of any thought of her and tried to focus on his plan to kill Dumbledore. He was in enough trouble as it was; he did not need Voldemort to doubt his loyalties.