Although I originally intended for this to be a simple, one-shot fanfic, I decided to write a second chapter after I saw the Half Blood Prince.
I absolutely loved the movie, and Tom Felton. He did an incredibly amazing job playing Draco, I was literally crying at half of his scenes, especially the bathroom and the astronomy tower ones.
Anyways, I really liked the bathroom scene (the way they did it I mean) although I wanted to kill Harry the entire time…but that's beside the point.
This is based of the movie version of the bathroom scene more than the book version, because I feel that it goes along better with what I'm about to write.
I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does (:
Draco's eyes widened as he stared at Harry and Katie talking. He knew just what Harry was saying, Harry knew that it was him. All the pressure of the situation seemed to dawn on Draco and the horrible consequence of what he had tried to do hit him. He had failed at killing Dumbledore, and someone got hurt in the process. At that moment, Harry whipped around to face him and saw the fear in his eyes.
Draco had to get out of there, he didn't want to deal with Harry. He didn't want to deal with any of this anymore. He ran toward the nearest bathroom he could find, trying to keep Harry off his trail.
Meanwhile, Hermione was watching the two closely. She too noted the panic in Draco's eyes, and the remorse. As Harry glared at him and Draco ran, she knew he was about to sprint after him. Without a second thought, she got up and darted after the two boys. Just before Harry could reach the door to the bathroom Draco had just gone in, Hermione grabbed him by the back of his shirt.
Harry turned around to face Hermione.
"Hermione, he did it. He cursed Katie. And he knows that I know," he said in a huff.
"I know Harry. You were right, but I don't think barging in there like a maniac is going to make anything better," she tried to reason with him.
"He's a death eater! He is dangerous, Hermione."
"Harry, please. Just let me talk to him."
Harry didn't understand why she wanted to talk to him so badly. He was about to say no to her, but he saw the serious and confident expression on her face that told him she knew what she was doing.
"Fine," he muttered. "Go talk to him. Just be careful," Harry said and walked away.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened the door and tiptoed in. As soon as the door was shut, she could hear weak sobbing. Her heart gave her a funny little feeling at this noise as though it was absent for a moment.
She took a step and turned her head to see the boy.
He was shaking badly, his pale fingers clutching the sink for dear life. His blonde hair fell gracefully away from his forehead, and the sobbing continued. He had taken off the outer layer of his school uniform, so his tie was hanging loosely; almost dipping into the sink, while his bag and the rest of his uniform lay spread on the tile floor.
Hermione stood, rooted to the spot as she saw the Slytherin boy break down. She wasn't used to seeing guys cry, it just wasn't natural. But it was a completely different thing to see Draco Malfoy- standing feet away from her, endless tears falling into a porcelain sink. As his sobs got stronger, she saw him slowly raise his head to the mirror. He didn't see her, but she saw his reflection. He was still pale, but she could see a touch of color on his cheeks and nose from the crying. His eyes were bloodshot and starting to puff up, and he let out another strangled cough-like sound before lowering his head to stare into the sink once more.
Hermione now felt extra glad that she had stopped Harry from coming in here.
Her first coherent thought was that she should get out of there, that Draco would scream and yell and maybe even hex her if he noticed her watching him. But that thought was interrupted as she realized this wasn't the same exact Draco. Sure, he was still vile and cruel when he was in a bad mood, but she couldn't get the thought of him comforting her outside of a classroom only a month ago out of her head. They hadn't talked since then, since the day she put her hand on his jaw simply just to feel his smooth skin. She wasn't sure, but she sensed he wasn't opposed to that little touch.
If he, after all the years of loathing, could pluck up the courage to ask her what's wrong, she could do the same thing. After all, she had already tried once.
Careful not to make a sound, she approached Draco. She didn't want to startle him, but she wasn't sure how to avoid that.
"Draco," she whispered, as her hand touched the fabric of his long sleeved white undershirt.
At the sound of his name, he shot up from the sink with a startled gasp, nearly slipping onto the floor.
His mind raced. How long had she been there? How god awful did he look? Did she know what Potter knew?
Misery swelled up inside him as he realized that she had obviously seen him crying.
He tried to form the right words to say, but nothing came out but strained sobs. He bit down hard on his lip and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to hide his eyes. Unfortunately for him, his platinum blonde hair was barely long enough to cover his eyebrows, and tears still cascaded down his cheeks.
Hermione felt a gut-wrenching sort of pain as she saw his contorted expression; doing everything he can not to let her see him anymore vulnerable.
Screw it, he thought, once he was sure no words could make this situation seem any less pathetic. He resumed his previous position at the sink, trying hard to push Hermione out of his thoughts. She'll leave, she will.
As much as he wanted to be alone, the thought that she would soon walk out the door leaving him alone with his screwed up mind didn't make him feel any better.
But she didn't.
He didn't dare to look up into the mirror, so he stood shaking at the sink. He didn't hear the familiar sound of her footsteps walking the other way, or the door creaking. And he could have sworn he felt her presence only a few feet away from him.
It couldn't have been more than two minutes that he stood there with all of his twisted images in his head until he felt a slight pressure in the middle of his spine that gave him goosebumps. Hermione's hand slowly moved across the top of his back as she inched closer toward him. Her movements were careful, as if she feared him shrugging her hand of and telling her to get lost.
He would never tell her, but as she traced her fingertips across his spine, he had to grip the sink even tighter, so as not to fall to the floor at her touch. She didn't see it, but he smiled through his drying tears as her second hand rested on his right hand, gripping it lightly.
He straightened up causing her to take her hands off of him, although he wished she hadn't. They both had a kind of silent understanding, as neither spoke a word. Although they were standing facing each other, Draco's head was bowed so that Hermione couldn't see his pale face.
As soon as her arm stretched toward his, he knew what she was about to do. His arm twitched, but he didn't stop her. She took the cuff of his shirt, moving it up to reveal a jet black image on his forearm. She was sad, not surprised as she saw the familiar image of the dark mark imprinted on him. She could easily see his blue veins through his skin, his hair standing on edge. She slid her fingers across the mark once, causing him to take a quick breath before hiding it with his sleeve again.
He didn't tell her how good it felt when her cool finger tips grazed over the permanent mark he wished was never there in the first place.
He didn't know what to say. He could see she was upset, but it seemed as though she already knew.
"I never wanted this," he croaked. "I never wanted any of this."
"You say you don't want this. You say this isn't you, but it seems like all you've aspired to be is a death eater," she choked. Finally, she was saying what was on her mind.
"I did. I wanted…I wanted to be powerful, I wanted to be respected, I admit that. I wanted to follow in my father's footsteps onto the dark side. But I was a bloody idiot then. I didn't realize the price at which that comes. Now, I don't want it at all, I don't want it," he pleaded with her.
She nodded in understanding.
"Well, if you're telling the truth, it doesn't have to be this way, you've got other options."
"I have no other options," he whispered darkly. "He'll kill me. He'll kill my family. He doesn't give a damn."
Draco was on the verge of tears again.
"What about Dumbledore? Voldemort fears him the most, everyone knows that. If you just ask for his help, I bet he can provide protection for you and your family."
Her words seemed very ironic. How could he ask for Dumbledore's help when what he needed was Dumbledore dead? Then again, the idea didn't sound that bad. If it was his last resort, he might just have to go to Dumbledore for protection.
"I don't know. I just, I need to figure things out," Draco said.
He raised his head to meet her eyes for the first time that day, and he smiled as he saw compassion within her brown eyes.
He looked awful, she thought, yet something about his untidy appearance only brought her in more. She couldn't help but feel attracted to his loosened tie and disheveled hair.
When she looked back on it, she still had no clue why she did it. But as she stood there looking into the grey eyes of this damaged boy, she couldn't help it. She took a step toward him. Lifting her heels off the ground, she stood on tiptoes as she wrapped her arms around his neck, their bodies touching as she hugged him.
At first, he thought it was another one of his daydreams, but quickly he realized this was actually happening. He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, pulling her closer to him. He buried his face into her shoulder and noticed that she smelled like flowers, although he didn't know which kind. He held onto her tight, noting that this was the first time in at least a year that he had gotten a hug, and from whom better than Hermione Granger.
She liked the feeling of his arms around her, liked the feeling of her fingers lightly clutching his silky hair and his way-too-expensive cologne smelled heavenly. She pulled away after a while and saw that he was smiling widely as he looked at her.
Sometimes, she felt, all Draco Malfoy needed was a hug.
So did you like it?
This chapter basically came from my endless thoughts about how I really wanted to hug Draco throughout the entire film, because c'mon, we all know he needed one. So, Hermione did it for me (:
Maybe if I get enough reviews I'll put up another chapter ;)
