Hermione couldn't breathe. She had lost its grip to her drink, spilling all of its contents on the floor. The glass shattered onto the hard ground, making a loud shattering noise. No one looked at her; no one heard the glass break. All eyes were glued onto one person.
Draco Malfoy stood in the middle of the room surrounded by party goers. His eyes roamed around the room, scanning each face for those familiar brown eyes. He took note of their surprising faces, their mouths gaped in surprise.
Hermione suddenly felt an urge to hide behind Blaise, hoping that Draco would simply go away. But she didn't. She stood there, frozen out of fear, anger, and anxiety. Her emotions were so interlocked with each other, it was hard for her to distinguish one from another.
Draco's gray, cool eyes finally landed on her brown ones. Her spine stiffened; her palms sweat. His eyes said something to her, but she couldn't quite interpret it. She was conscious of the crown staring at both of them. Draco however, remained oblivious to the conspicuous glances and whispers.
Move, she told herself.
Draco began to push himself through the crowd, heading towards Hermione. The crowd simply moved to the side, their interest increasing. No one seemed to care that a former Death Eater was walking amongst them.
Draco was a mere fifteen feet away from them until Ron blocked him from his path.
"What the hell, Malfoy?" Ron demanded, his wand peaking out of his pockets.
Draco stopped in his tracks, breaking his gaze away from Hermione. "Get out of the way, Weasley," he growled.
Ron didn't back down. He took out his wand from his pocket and pointed it against the blonde man. Another gasp ran through the crowd; some of them backed away, fearing a magical duel while others closed in, trying to get a good view of the two enemies.
"Get out," Ron ordered, his voice cold and hard.
Draco didn't falter. He didn't take out his wand to defend himself, and Hermione began to wonder if Draco even owned one. "Is that how you really treat a guest, Weasley? I see after all this years, your manners didn't even change," Draco said. "Now, tell me. How does it feel like being the weakest and the most foolish in the family?"
Ron's face turned read, matching his famous hair. "At least I'm not a coward!" Ron retored, pressing his wand against Draco's neck.
The blonde man stumbled a little, but he kept his cool posture. "You're not going to hurt me/"
"No, but I might."
George Weasley stepped away from the crowd, carrying his wand on his side. He didn't raise it against Draco, but remained twirling it along his fingers. His voice was cold, strange, even to Hermione. She never heard that voice from George before, and that scared her even more.
Ron stepped to the side, tucking his wand into his pocket. A small smirk began to appear on the corner of his mouth as his older brother took his previous position.
"George," Draco whispered in surprise.
"Expecting someone else, didn't you?" George asked, not looking for any particular answer. "The great Draco Malfoy is surprised by a Wealsey? Someone must report this to The Daily Prophet." He now stood in front of Draco, towering him by a couple inches. "Out of all the people in the world, you didn't expect Hermione to choose me?"
Draco remained silent, proving George's theory. His eyes ran past George and into Hermione's. In one quick glance, she saw them; they were filled with pain, disbelieve, and betrayal. And with a blink of an eye, it all disappeared again, returning to Draco's usual cool eyes.
"Now I don't want to bore you with history lessons, but the last time I checked, you were dead," George said. "If you asked me, you should have stayed dead."
"You need to get your faced checked, Weasley. The last time I checked, I was missing, not dead."
Hearing Draco's voice broke all the control George had. His smirk disappeared, and he stopped twirling his wand. Hermione tried to break away from Blaise's grip, but the dark man only tightened it even more She gritted her teeth in frustration. This cannot be happening, she repeated to herself.
George's eyes bore into Draco's. "You need to leave," George said, his voice betraying his patience. "Now."
Draco erupted into laughter, startling those around him. "I don't think Hermione, your fiancée, would like that."
George's grip on his wand tightened. Hermione watched the contour of his back tightened. Suddenly, everything around her froze. The crowd, with all their whispers and accusing glances disappeared. The small movements around her slowed down; the air too, started to thin out.
Another gasp escaped through the crowd as George raised his wand and pressed it against Draco's chest. Draco stumbled back, his eyes startled. A fear ran through him, but he managed to keep it hidden. His eyes traveled to his pocket, only to come into a realization that it was empty. He silently cursed himself for being so foolish, so unprepared for this event.
"Leave," George threatened once more.
"No."
George's eyes blazed with anger. "Leave now, or I'll personally rid this world of you."
Deep inside, Draco knew that George wasn't bluffing. He couldn't believe how much this man had changed. The last time he remembered, he was the most harmless of the Weasley clan. But now, his voice, cold and full of hatred, replaced the laughter that made him famous. He could see years of pain and sadness in his eyes. His face was worn; years of coping with danger and loss took away everything George was. He realized that on that fateful day of the war, one twin didn't die. Two of them did.
"Expiliarmus!"
George's wand flew out of his hand and landed five feet away from they stood. All eyes shifted from the confrontation to the woman standing with her wand in front of her. Hermione shocked herself when she realized what she just did. She didn't know where to look; but her eyes couldn't tear away from the two men in front of her.
Draco's slightly amused face annoyed her, but the look on George's face broke her heat. She saw the pain, the betrayal in them. Aware that Hermione was watching him, George quickly replaced his pain with a guarded look that Hermione knew he wore only when he's in pain.
Panic rose within her. She dropped her wand after shouting the spell, and she knew that Blaise had picked it up a second later. Her eyes darted to her guests; Ron stood there, shaking his head in contempt. Ginny and Harry stood in front of the crowd; Harry avoided her eyes, but Ginny stared directly into her. She wanted something, an advice, or a reassurance from her best friend, but Ginny's face remained passive.
"I- I'm sorry," she whispered before she turned on her heels and ran out of the tent, leaving the people behind her baffled at her wake.
Hermione ran through the woods, dodging the tall trees looming above her. She wanted to look behind her back, but she feared that if she didn't pay attention the obstacles in front of her, she would trip and fall. Her eyes focused to the night light, and she saw a big, fallen, dead tree in front of her. She took out a wand and whispered a spell. Her magic worked; the tree disappeared into a mere dust. She privately thanked herself for reading plenty of books back at Hogwarts so she could execute that plan.
Her thoughts snapped back to reality when she could hear approaching steps behind her. She was not on their earshot, so they could not hear her footsteps crunching against the branches. She knew however, that they would quickly catch up to her if she didn't run faster.
Hermione fastened her speed; she began to sprint, her arms moving to the rock of her steps. Her legs began to ache. She was panting; she tried to pace her breathing, but couldn't. Hermione was never a runner; she preferred studying and reading all night rather than picking up a sport.
Suddenly, Hermione lost her balance and stumbled onto the ground. Her right leg had lost its footing, and she came very close to twisting her ankle. She landed on her stomach, her wand escaping her hand and landing a foot away.
There was no time to think; she pushed herself up and grabbed her wand before resuming her run. She felt something pointy in her hair, probably a twig that her messy curls picked up when she fell. She consciously ran one of her hands through her hair, trying to uncover the irritating object.
Stop it, Hermione. That's the least of your problems, she thought to herself.
Ahead, she saw an open ground. She was leaving the woods. With all her might, she ran even faster than before. As she stepped the much softer, greener ground, she located several, abandoned cottages.
After pausing for a moment, she resumed her running. She ran through the small sidewalk than ran between the buildings. She turned right, and picked the smallest and closest cottage she saw.
Hermione's breath was short and heavy. She slammed her back against the rough building, pressing her back as far and deep as she can. Her arm rested against the side of her body, and she pressed the side of her wand against her leg, reassuring her sanity more than anything else.
The night loomed over her. The full moon shone at its intensity; she hoped that it wouldn't give her position away. The weather was chilly for the season, and Hermione secretly regretted for not wearing a sweater.
She could hear the whispers around the corner. Hermione turned to the corner, and saw the door to the building. She turned the door knob, but it was locked. She muttered a quick spell under her breath and ducked in, closing the door silently behind her.
The room was dirty and empty for the most part. A big, ominous window stood on the side of the room, which reflected the moon from the outside. She stood in the shadows, hoping that her appearance would still remain hidden.
Hermione could make out two figures through the window. One of them peered through the window, scanning the room from the outside. Hermione held her breath and watched the figure with intensity. After a couple more seconds, the figure resigned from his task. He nudged his partner, whispering something Hermione couldn't make out. The other man nodded in agreement before they headed towards the opposite direction, away from the building.
Hermione let out a sigh of relief. She was safe, at least for now.
She knew it was too good to be true. Before she had a chance to relax, a cold, rough hand eloped over her mouth.
A/N: Sorry for taking a long time to update. I've been busy with school and everything. Plus, I had a minor writer's block. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! By the way, I don't know why wouldn't show the division I created within the stories. So I hope you guys can differentiate the difference. For example, in this chapter, the italics is the second part of the story. There are only two parts in this one, and three in the previous chapter.
