Chapter Two
Draco Malfoy sat in silence before Hermione Granger's varnished oak coffee table.
Cardboard boxes scattered across the carpet overflowing with assorted knick-knacks.
"How did you know where to find me?" Hermione finally said.
Hermione split the silence which had been hanging thick in the air from the moment he'd arrived. The last few weeks of Draco's existence, actually, had been overcome with silence; as if someone had hit the mute button on life.
"It wasn't difficult." Draco replied, his voice void of emotion; eyes continuing to gaze intently at the coffee table.
Hermione nodded and continued to simply stare with a mix of bewilderment, pity and blame.
"So why are you here, Malfoy?" She asked softly.
Draco's fingers twitched slightly at the sound of her concern, and he began to pick at the material of his slacks in an attempt to conceal his trepidation.
Time passed yet still he said nothing. The silence was palpable. Pressing in upon their ears and raising the tension to boiling point. When it became obvious Draco had no intention of answering, Hermione let out an exasperated breath and stood up. Arms crossed upon her chest, she headed towards the door ready to shoo the flaxen haired boy out of her home and out of her life. The overwhelming bizarreness that Draco Malfoy was sitting in her lounge room was a feeling Hermione couldn't quite grasp, and she was eager to rid herself of the entire event. As she grabbed hold of the door handle ready to fling it open and order the man out she heard him mumble a tangled response.
""What was that?" She asked.
Draco sat silent for a moment before repeating his statement.
"How do I live."
Slowly Hermione let her arm fall slack and crept back towards the sofa. She situated herself opposite him, in the floral armchair her mother had given her as a housewarming present.
"Don't you dare feel sorry for yourself Malfoy." She said coldly.
Draco did not retort. No malice as usual. No nothing. His sunken, stormy eyes simply drifted from the coffee table and finally met Hermione's.
"I feel anything but sorry for myself Granger." He said hoarsely. "I deserve no pity. No reprieve or relief. I walk amongst the deserving. The survivors. The mourning... And I have no place. I do not belong. My breath should have been taken from me that night yet I still feel it drag through my lungs day in and day out. And so I ask, how do I live? "
Hermione felt the discomfort of the entire situation creep up the back of her neck. To this boy she fell victim to years of torture and he sat in her lounge room pouring the depths of his inner demons to her. She looked out the window in an attempt to escape the uneasiness and watched the sun glint off the leaves of her garden.
"Why did you come here, Malfoy?" She finally said, keeping a steady gaze on the leaves cocooned and bathing in the brilliant sunshine.
As silence ensued Hermione let her eyes drift from the window back to Draco. He sat once again staring at the oak coffee table. Draco took long deep breaths before meeting Hermione's eyes again. She found them raw and sodden; ready to spill his fear and pain onto the porcelain dust of his cheeks, one tear at a time. Draco shook his head, looking at Hermione with despair.
"I haven't a clue."
Hermione considered her options. Her mind urged her desperately to tell him to leave at once and restore order. But her heart was thumping wildly telling her to reach out and fix this disgrace of a wizard. Because it was obvious he couldn't do it himself.
"Okay. Alright then... Okay." Hermione said to no-one in particular. Draco wondered whether she was simply running through the options in her head, like a checklist, and announcing their validity out-loud.
"Malfoy, where are you currently living?" Hermione asked.
Draco snorted.
"Look at my current state Granger. You think I'm living anywhere in particular?"
Hermione surveyed his appearance. He definitely looked much more ragged than she had ever seen the usually perfectly preened and manicured, Draco Malfoy. His hair took on the appearance of a much more careless civilian, unwashed, ungroomed. There was the obviously tired and frail face. His crinkled clothing was dirt trodden and sent off an unwelcoming odour, and his body hunched over. Tired and down-beaten. Heavy and plagued with demons felt by few. When did he last sleep? Or shower for that matter? Hermione thought.
Hermione took a deep breath then looked at the ceiling, as if praying to the Lord she was doing the right thing, and then cleared her throat.
"Follow me." She said hoarsely.
Hermione stood up and quickly strode upstairs. Slowly Draco stood up from the couch and lilted down the hallway behind her. Hermione tried her best to ignore the pestering fear upon her shoulder at having Draco in her house following her. The upstairs hallway was piled with boxes, like downstairs. Some were unopened, where as others appeared to have been rummaged through already. Hermione came to a stop before a bathroom.
"Towel," She proclaimed and pointed to a set of large crimson towels hanging from a railing beside the shower. Draco stared dumbfounded at the bathroom than back at Hermione. Hermione quickly averted her gaze, finding his stare too intense to stomach.
"Take your time." She said, continuing to stare at her shoes.
Draco continued to stand frozen as if trying to say something in response but thought the better of it. He gave a staggered nod and slowly entered the bathroom. Hermione closed the door quickly and squeezed her eyes shut. She leant up against the wall beside the bathroom and sunk to the ground.
What on earth was going on.
A/N: So obviously, I havent gotten very far into the story at all. But it is always these first few moments which are the most important i feel, and therefore require the deepest amount of exploration before you head off and dive into the plot bunnies, know what I mean? Like the whole Dramione scenarion is so hard to make realistic that I am trying my best to avoid the cliche's and ridiculous impossible scenario's. I was a little worried this chapter was rather fragmented though so let me know your opinion.
LB xx