Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
x Dust x
One whole night had passed, and somehow, Draco and Hermione were still alive. They hadn't killed each other. They hadn't even acknowledged each other since their lovely first conversation - which probably contributed to the fact that they hadn't killed each other.
Now all they had to do was make it through another day.
Hopefully even shorter than that, after Hermione went and requested a room change. Surely, any sane person would realize that her sharing a room with Draco Malfoy was not a wise choice - not that there were many sane people on this floor to begin with.
But she would try, because she was that desperate to get away from him. All this time, she had been trying her hardest to forget. To forget everything that had happened, to forget the war, to forget him. Draco was like a slap in the face; a reminder of her school years, where her biggest worry had been the O.W.L.S. He was a reminder of the war, which she had survived and he had not.
This wasn't what she wanted. What had she wanted in the first place?
It couldn't have been this.
She knew all too well what she wanted.
She wanted him, alive. She wanted good to triumph over evil, the way it was supposed to be. She wanted everything to be normal. She wanted to stop feeling like this. She wanted perfection. She wanted everything to go as she planned.
When had that ended?
Perhaps it was when Voldemort came back in their fourth year, and no one would believe it. Maybe it was when she left Hogwarts with her two best friends.
It might have ended the second his body fell to the ground with a sickening thud, never able to take another breath.
Hermione would rather not think about it anymore.
It didn't really matter anyways.
When Draco woke up at 11:21, his room was missing someone. It took him a second to clear the sleepy fog out of his mind and realize this, but even when he did, he couldn't quite place who was missing.
Maybe his recent lack of sleep was getting to him. No one was missing. He had been alone in this room for months now.
He told this to himself as he got out of bed, stretching and groaning loudly. His feet acted of their own accord, walking him to the restroom.
His hands were reaching for his green toothbrush when he noticed there was another toothbrush next to his.
It was pink.
Did his nurse, Missy, put it there? It wouldn't really be surprising... probably some stupid prank that she decided to pull-
The realization hit him, and suddenly he felt very much awake.
Granger.
That's who was missing.
Hermione fucking Granger.
Events from yesterday reeled through his mind like a movie, leaving his mind spinning and his mouth hanging open in disbelief.
So it hadn't been a nightmare.
Hermione Granger was sharing a room with him.
And now she was gone. Her toothbrush was still here, so evidently she was planning on returning.
Then again, it was just a toothbrush. She could've hopped on a plane to India and left her toothbrush behind.
Draco rinsed the toothpaste out of his mouth and climbed back into bed. Thinking so hard this early couldn't be good for him at all.
Clad in only stark white pajamas and greying slippers - both provided by the hospital - Hermione shuffled down to the lift and pressed the LOBBY button.
Thankfully, no one was there with her. She didn't want to be noticed.
Not like this, at least.
Tapping her fingers on her thigh impatiently, Hermione let out a sigh as she waited for the lift to travel from the 13th floor all the way down to the lobby. Her eyes flashed down to the top of the lift, where a black 1 was on display.
Moments later, the lift let out a ding, signaling her exit. Its doors slid open - though not without great difficulty - and Hermione walked out of the lift and into the lobby.
She walked as fast as she could towards the front desk, and slammed her hands down on its clean white surface as soon as she reached it, startling the woman sitting there.
"Excuse me," said Hermione, "I'd like to request a room change."
The receptionist peered up at Hermione behind her glasses and popped a piece of gum in her mouth.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, ma'am," the woman replied, leaning her head back down and scribbling on something.
Hermione stood on her tiptoes and looked over the desk.
It was a crossword puzzle.
Settling back down on feet, she asked, "Why not?"
"Don't have the authority." The woman smacked her gum loudly. After a moment's hesitation, she looked back up at Hermione with an odd look on her face.
"You're Hermione Granger, aren't you?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "Yes," she replied curtly.
"Definitely can't move you to another room. You have to stay in that one for as long as you're here." She looked back down and continued her puzzle.
A room with Malfoy for her entire stay? No. That was not going to work out at all.
"Why is that?" Hermione questioned, her voice tight.
"That's the only room on the floor without a window." The woman didn't even look up.
So that was it. They stuck her in a room with Draco Malfoy because they were scared she would jump out of a window again.
How stupid did they think she was? It didn't work the first time, so why would she try it again?
Sighing, Hermione turned around and paused.
"22 down is Wedelin the Weird," she called out, and walked off without another word.
Hermione would rather not be stuck in a room with Draco Malfoy until her 4:00 private therapy session, but walking around the hospital was not an option. Walking around the hospital meant seeing the faces of dying people, and she had seen enough of death for a lifetime.
She decided to go back to the room. Hopefully, Malfoy wouldn't be in there, and if he was, she would spend a few hours taking a shower.
She made her way back to the lift, and along the way, she spotted a small door that she hadn't noticed while on the way to the front desk. She knocked softly on it twice, using just her knuckles, and waited a few moments before opening the door.
The space behind the door was the size of a small closet, allowing Hermione enough room to walk inside it and take two steps fowards and backwards. To her left and right were shelves that were completely bare, minus a small hand towel that looked like it hadn't been used in years.
In fact, the entire closet looked like it hadn't been used in years. Every inch of it had a layer of dust coating it, and the paint on its walls was peeling. Hermione used a finger to write her initials on the wall in front of her, leaving a thin film of dirt on her finger. Back in her Hogwarts days, she might imagined another set of initials next to hers, enclosed by a heart.
But that wasn't the case anymore. She was alone now.
Grabbing the small towel, Hermione scrubbed away vigorously at inch of space there was, wiping away the dust, along with all her thoughts.
She stayed in the room until 5:00.
"Took you long enough," said Draco as Hermione finally walked in the room. He flipped the page of the book he was reading. "Someone came in. They asked for you, I told him you weren't here and I didn't know where the hell you went. They cursed and walked out of here." He finally looked up from the book he was reading and looked at Hermione, a slight smirk on his face.
"Did you have a date, Granger?"
Hermione felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck and she clenched her jaw.
"Yes," she drawled, sarcasm dripping from her mouth. "I bailed at the last minute. Decided he wasn't good enough for me."
Draco chuckled. "Funny, because the person that came in was a lady."
Hermione's cheeks grew hot. How could he? How could he seem so unchanged, even after the war? Hermione used to feel sorry for him because of the things he was forced to do at such a young age; the pressure laid upon him.
Not anymore.
She decided to stay silent as she walked towards her bed, cringing every step of the way. Maybe she should've stayed in the closet for a little longer, Hermione thought. But she was already here, and there was no turning back now. She sat down, leaning her back against the wall behind her headboard.
"So what were you doing all this time, Granger?" Draco couldn't help but ask, his eyes never leaving his book.
Hermione stared at her legs. "I don't really think that's any of your business, Malfoy." She spat out his name like it was a disease. It sure felt like one.
Draco raised his eyebrows, but his eyes were still glued to the page he was reading.
So the more things remain the same, the more they change after all—plus c'est la même chose, plus ça change. Nothing endures, not a tree, not love, not even a death by violence.
He pursed his lips in thought. That wasn't true at all. The more things were the same, the more they remained the same. The more things changed, the more they changed. A lot of things endured, especially death. Suddenly feeling like he was underwater and couldn't breathe, Draco threw the book aside and it landed on the ground with a thump.
"What book was that?" Hermione asked immediately. A lot of things had changed about her over the past few months, but her love of books had remained as strong as ever.
Draco turned his face towards her, a look of disgust on his face. "Can't you read, Mudblood?" he said maliciously.
Hermione bit her the inside of cheek. "Seeing as its on the other side of your bed, no," she replied with equal fervor. "Besides, I'm not the one who threw the book on the ground. The words get too big for you, Malfoy? Was there a word more than four syllables?" She didn't know where this side of her was coming from. Usually, she didn't lash out people. Just herself.
But this was Malfoy. This was different. She was allowed to do this.
His eyes flashed at her, and Hermione wondered, had his eyes always been silver? She had always thought they were grey. Maybe it was that glint in his eyes that looked strikingly similar to the glint of a knife. Hermione swallowed as Draco's eyes grew thinner and thinner as he glared at her.
"What did you say, Mudblood?" His voice was dripping with hate as he swung his long legs over his bed and faced her.
Hermione forced herself to stare straight into his eyes. They were beautiful, in a scary way.
"I said," she spat out, "poor little mommy's boy having trouble reading a book more than 10 pages?"
She watched him twitch and clench his fists with so much anger he shook slightly.
"My mom is dead, thank you very much." He spoke matter-of-factly.
At this, something in Hermione snapped for a reason she couldn't explain.
"So is mine," she replied. "So are a lot of people's. Get over yourself, Malfoy."
Draco's voice rose. "Get over myself? You, of all people, are telling me to get over myself?" he yelled. "If I remember correctly, you're the one who flung herself off a fucking building because Harry Potter died!"
The room became dead silent, and the only sounds that could be heard were the harsh, angry, breathes coming out of Draco's gritted teeth. His words rung in the air, vibrating throughout the room like a gong.
"How," said Hermione, in a voice so quiet and steady it was much scarier than yelling ever could have been, "do you know I jumped off a building?"
A low, heartless chuckle was Draco's response.
"It's not really a surprise, Granger. Everyone knows about your absolutely tragic suicide attempt," he drawled.
But how did they know it was because of Harry?
Then, as if he could read her mind, "Everyone knows it was because of Potter. That wasn't too hard to figure out."
Hermione grew silent, and sunk down, further and further, until she was lying on her bed. So the entire fucking world knew, and they all thought she was some messed up nutcase in need of a straitjacket. Great. The Brightest Witch of Her Age Gone Insane. But she couldn't help but think, as she stared at the faded scars on her legs and remembered the feeling of weightlessness as she jumped off the balcony, that maybe they were right.
A/N: Hopefully y'all liked it! Since summer vacation has officially started for me, I will update more often. I have been so sorry for the once a month updates! Please, please, let me know what you think of the story so far (good or bad) and review!
Many thanks to my lovely beta Jenna 3
x MaioribusSpes