Hermione Granger was being wheeled into the St. Mungo's emergency room. She was thin, waif-like and her hair more reddish than it had been, was an untamed mess around her face. Her face and battered body were covered with bruises in scratches and there was a thin trickle of ruby red blood escaping from the corner of her mouth. Her barely open eyes had a dull, lifeless look in them even though she still had a heartbeat, as faint as it was.
Draco Malfoy had an amused smirk on his face as he leaned against the wall in the Mungo's ER, as he recalled his best friend Pansy shouting at his other best friend, Blaise, her husband to stop being such a wuss while she was going into labour. Now the happy couple was alone in her rrom with the latest addition to the family, Sagittaria Parkinson-Zabini. He had been quite pleased, and just a bit surprised at being named godfather. He looked up as a sudden flurry of activity caught his attention. There was a large group of Healers surrounding a bed in the centre of the room. As a chunk of Healers broke off, running to prepare a room, no doubt, he got a clear view of the person's face. His smirk vanished instantly. It was Hermione Granger.
Draco thought of the first day of their Eighth Year, a year and a half ago. Blaise had married Pansy, but had returned to Hogwarts. Pansy however, had not, but had gone into fashion design. She had found a flat in Hogsmeade from where she was planning to Floo to work thrice a week. Draco was searching for an empty carriage on the train while Blaise said goodbye to Pansy. He himself had no one to say goodbye to. His father was dead, and his mother was ill, and had stayed home. He wandered through the corridor, until he came upon an empty compartment. That's what he thought, anyway. Once he walked in, he discovered Granger lying on the seat; bare feet on the cool glass window, with a dreamy vacant look in her eyes and a seemingly sad smile on her face. White wires snaked out of her ears trailing on to her loose purple shirt and curling into the pocket of her black Muggle jeans. Looking at her face, he suddenly felt...awkward. She did not seem to have even registered his presence. He quickly walked out and gently closed the door. He found an empty carriage at the end of the train, where Blaise met him. He looked out the window for most of the ride, and his thoughts kept drifting to the dead look in her eyes.
The same look he had seen when he saw her face in the ER. The Healers had taken her into another room, and when he had rushed to follow they had made him stay outside, where he now stood pacing up and down the empty, completely silent corridor.
Meanwhile, inside the room, Hermione was slipping in and out of consciousness. Having finally left the realm of consciousness, she began to dream of the last time she had any halfway decent happy memories. Her Eight Year. Hermione had been a mess. She had gone back to Australia to lift the charm from her parents, who instead of being grateful, loving, admiring, caring, had called her a 'manipulative, sneaky little bitch who didn't care about them and who never was, and would never be their daughter'. She had been flabbergasted. And on top of that the Weasleys hadn't exactly been happy with her when she said that she said she didn't want to be in a relationship with Ron. Only George and Ginny still talked to her after that. Thinking of the Weasleys, she felt incredibly lonely. Harry had joined Auror training, as had Ron. Harry was engaged to Ginny, who was Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. Ron, too was engaged to Lavender Brown, the whore, who said that he was allowed to talk to Hermione. Hermione didn't mind, as Ron would be Lavender most of the time, and she would have nothing to do with that bitch. But the loss of her best friend still got to her. She was distracted throughout dinner, and barely heard McGonagall tell the Eighth Years to stay back after. "...to promote house unity, you will all be sharing a common room. This was decided as there were so few of you in each house; it would be impractical to have dorms with them. Also, we...um, realise that the rest of the students do not know what it was like during the War. They have not experienced such loss, they have not been through such harrowing situations. We thought that you would like to stay with those who know how you feel. So, follow me."
They walked through the corridors until they came to a statue of a faerie, with intricate patterns on her wings. She asked in a cool melodic voice, "Password?" "Equilibrium" said McGonagall. The faerie faded into the wall where she became a golden pattern on wood. Her wings formed the doors, and her arms the handles. Her body split as McGonagall swung the doors inward, opening into a large stone room, with multiple fires and soft carpets. "Gryffindor and Slytherin dorms are on the left, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw on the right. Goodnight." She turned around and strode out the door purposefully.
Hermione went up and magically unpacked. Her room was big, and had an attached bathroom. She had had to walk up a flight of stairs while Zabini and Malfoy had to walk down. She assumed that it would be the same for the other side, with Ravenclaw up, as Gryffindors and Ravenclaw had dorms in towers while the others did not. The stairs were in antechambers on opposite sides of the main room, which was quite big and long. Hermione picked up Good Omens and went into the common room to read. She was reading, stretched out on the sofa for a solid hour. She got up and decided to go put her book back in her room. She still hadn't decided on her decor, as her room was charmed to look exactly how she wished.
She walked in to the antechamber and climbed up the stairs. Currently her room was red and gold, but she had always found that a bit too garish. She stood at the doorway and thought hard. Her bed transformed into a sleek white box. Her favourite comforter from home, white with purple swirl designs was on it. The walls were granite grey. On one wall, there were purple decals. Another had a black wrought iron grill. Fairly lights wound themselves around the grill. The remaining wall had a rippling image of London, changing as the day passed. The bathroom was pristine and beige, like one would expect at a fancy hotel. She sat on a black beanbag for a while and enjoyed the view. She then changed into shorts and loose tee and walked back down. She heard voices as she walked back down. Looking over the banister, she saw Malfoy and Zabini joking and laughing. Zabini saw almost immediately and shouted out, "Hey Granger! Care to join us?" Hermione bit her lip, hesitating, but then thought "What the hell. It's not like I'm doing anything interesting anyway." and continued walking down. She sat on the pile of cushions, between the two Slytherins.
Draco recalled when she had first talked to him and Blaise. There had been a moment of awkwardness, but he quickly filled in. And somehow managed to make it worse."So how are Potter and Weasley? Not to forget Weaselette."
"I don't...know." she said weakly.
Draco's eyebrows lifted in incredulity. He was about to say something clever, but looked at her face and then decided the better of it. "They're busy, to say the least." She finished in a small voice. Draco decided he better change the subject.
"So, read anything interesting lately, Granger?" he asked. Her face brightened and she immediately started talking about some book or the other. "Typical." He thought, and mentally snorted. But he joined in the conversation and she was talking about some Muggle books, which sounded quite interesting. As the conversation wore thin, Blaise interjected, "So how's restoration going at the manor, Malfoy?" "Fine. Mother's all excited about it. We should to something new in the dungeons! The sitting room in the right needs its furniture restored!" he mimicked. He and Blaise both turned to look at Granger., who had fallen silent. Her face was deathly pale. Suddenly she started crying and bolted. Blaise looked at him in confusion, until it dawned on Draco. Jeez, the things that had happened in the Manor. And he had talked about those specific roms where his psychotic aunt had tortured them! He smacked himself on the head.
Slowly, he turned to Blaise and said, "She's been there. It wasn't...great. Bellatrix Crucio'd her again and again. No wonder she's bit unstable now. She...she fucking scratched Mudblood into her arm! And that scar on her neck? That's Bellatrix's work, too. Ah, shit. Crapcrapcrapcrap." Blaise gave him a sympathetic look. "Well, it's eleven thirty," he said, standing up. "Best be off to bed. Long day tomorrow." Blaise stretched and walked down the stairs. Draco, meanwhile, sat on the couch. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid. Right in front of Granger, that too. In her damn face.
He sat there, groaning inwardly. He picked up the book he had got up to read, 'Thud!' and began to read to lift his mood slightly. Half an hour later, he decided to turn in, but not before going and apologising to Granger. Picking up his book, he walked up the sleek white stairs which reminded him of piano keys. He knocked on the ebony door and waited for a response. After a minute, he heard a soft voice say "Come in." He carefully opened the door and walked in. Granger was sitting on her bed, cocooned in blankets, As his eyes swept the room, he was struck by the greyness of it all. He had expected it to be all red and golden, house pride and what not. But perhaps not. "Er, Granger. I just wanted... to apologise, if I..um made you uncomfortable by talking about the Manor, and your...friends."
She looked at him with surprise clearly etched on her face. "That's very kind of you, Malfoy." She said, her voice muffled through the blankets. Looking at her eyes, he could make out that she had been crying. As he began to look downwards, he saw those white wires, again. They piqued his curiosity. "Granger, if you don't mind my asking, what are those wire things?" She let out a scoff. "Draco Malfoy, interested in Muggle technology? That's new." He looked affronted. He was trying to change, after all. Laughing, this time She took out a black and silver little rectangle. "This, Mr. Malfoy, is called an iPod." He could see a bitten apple on the back. She turned it face him and he saw a lit up screen. "It stores music in it, which can be heard though these," she said pointing at the little buds at the ends of the wires.
Suddenly, she looked directly at him. "Would you like to listen?"
Suddenly feeling immensely awkward, he turned around and said, "Maybe later, Granger. I have to catch up on my beauty sleep." "You don't need to." She suddenly giggled, no bitterness or incredulity in her laugh. He turned to look at her with a grin. "Well, they don't say you're right about everything for nothing." Closing the door he walked down two flights of stairs. "Did I just have a normal conversation with Granger? " He couldn't believe it. He walked into his room. It had old-fashioned, yet stylish furniture. Everything was white, but darkened into black at the edges. "There is darkness in everything," he mused. "How fitting." He fell on his bed, but as he drifted off to sleep, he thought not of darkness, but his mind was filled with thoughts of Hermione Granger.