Author Note: Thanks goes to everyone who took the time to read this. This is my first Harry Potter based fanfiction and I'm pretty pleased with the outcome of my first try.
A special thanks goes to mkerr94, Inkless Feather, sonnetStar, jolipanda, greenac000, tayler95 and dancerengland for becoming followers to this story.
Another special thanks goes to: Anonymous(Guest) and Legolas' Girl 31 for the wonderful reviews.
Chapter 4:
Hermione sat in class the next morning, her hand moving along the paper with a pen quill in hand. She was taking notes on the added magical creatures Hagrid was lecturing about. After embarrassing herself in yesterday's class, she vowed to pay more attention. Talking with Headmistress McGonagall about how she was feeling, she felt a little better today compared to most days. However, Draco came to mind several times before the day had even begun.
She had been confused as to why he held conversations with her two nights in a row. It was beyond her level of thinking. What kept her mind going back to it, was the fact that he stated he wanted to check in on her. That statement sounded like a lie to her, considering who's mouth those words came out of. Draco was the last person she felt gave a damn about her.
"Hermione, can you tell me one of twelve different types of Dragons?" Hagrid asked with a slight smile on his face.
It didn't take long for the entire class to place eyes on her. A smile upturned her lips, knowing that she was going to disappoint them. She knew an answer to his question. "Chinese Fireball." She answered forcing the gawkers to turn back around. Much to her relief, Draco never bothered to turn and look at her at all. "Mister Malfoy, can you name another?"
"Antipodean Opaleye." Draco answered without any hesitation at all.
Hagrid seemed pleased with the answers and returned to the lecture. Hermione shifted her eyes over to Harry and Ron, who were sitting in the desk across from her. She wanted to apologize for being so cold with them; but the words wouldn't come to her. They've avoided her ever since the argument after class happened and that hurt her feelings more than she would like to admit.
She took a mental note to make sure she spoke to them after class. Her eyes moved once more to where Draco was located in the room. Again, her mind went back to the previous night's conversation. "How can someone who was so mean...be so gentle now?" She mentally asked herself.
"Alright, study all the new information. There will be a short test at the end of the week." Hagrid informed just before the end of class came about.
Ron quickly gathered his things up and bolted out around the desk, leaving Harry behind. Hermione rushed to catch up to both of them. Draco caught sight of her running out of the corner of his eye and was instantly curious as to why she was bolting so quickly. It reminded him of the previous two nights, how she bolted when the conversation turned a little uncomfortable. He started to follow her, keep a healthy distance between them. Just enough to hear and still be out of sight. "Guys wait up!" Hermione shouted.
"I thought you did have time for us." Ron shot out with a sudden harshness to his voice.
"I said I didn't have time for the accusations...not you guys." She corrected.
"We had a right to be concerned."
She narrowed her eyes, obviously frustrated already. They had only just begun to speak to one another. Harry took a step in her direction. His smile was comforting to her. "I think Ron was over reacting to a simple miscommunication. We want you to know that we are here for you whenever you needed us to be." He said trying to smooth over the hostility between his two closest friend.
"There was no miscomunication. She was clearing staring at Malfoy in class yesterday."
Draco perked at the mention of his name. Clearly, Ron was jealous of something so little. It amused him to see that kind of reaction out of him. He wondered what Hermione even saw in him. Leaning against the wall to stay hidden, he used his wand to amplify his hearing on subject. "As I told you yesterday...I was not staring at him. I happened to glance in his direction, which happens. It's a classroom full of students, Ron."
"You can't talk to us, so you found yourself someone who you can talk to?"
"Maybe I should, considering how irrational you're being right now!"
Draco could hear the pain in her voice. She was upset with how the Weasley boy was talking to her. Her quick witted comeback definitely hurt him. The look in his eyes were becoming darker and darker, to the point where Draco thought he might intervene. That opportunity never came, because she turned and walked off in the direction of her next class.
Harry and Ron continued to stand in the middle of the hall. Harry was dumbfounded by how harsh his best friend was being toward their other friend, a woman Ron cared for deeply. So, to him, it made little sense. "This argument is getting ridiculous. So what that she looked at him in class. It doesn't mean she has a thing for him."
"You would think, considering his family was the reason she was branded."
Draco closed his eyes upon hearing that. He didn't need to be reminded that his family was the cause of that. He also couldn't escape the nightmares that haunted him at night, also reminding him of that night. Her screams still echoed in his head, even when he wasn't thinking about it. Stepping out around the corner, he walked passed them without a word exchanged; but he knew that both of them were staring at him, wishing that he would just combust into flames.
Another scream echoed down the long empty hall. Draco stood alone in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms. His pale flesh was like a beacon in the moonlit hall. He looked around, trying to figure out where the scream was coming from. Looking at his surroundings, he knew that he was in his own home. Malfoy Manor.
Taking small steps towards the room at the end of the hall, he noticed there was a light shinning from under the door. As he approaching, the screams got louder. He reached for the doorknob and gently turned it, opening it to his viewing. Hermione lay on the floor with his Aunt Bellatrix hovering over her. Her silver blade sliced into her delicate skin. "Stop!" He shouted; but his voice wouldn't carry. They couldn't hear him.
"Tell me what else you took out of my vault." Bellatrix demanded carving another section in the girl's arm.
"Nothing..." She cried.
He felt helpless to do anything just as he had felt that same night it actually happened. Draco moved across the floor to place his hand on his aunt's shoulder; but his hand went straight through her body. Closing his eyes tight, he forced himself not to watch the rest of what was coming. Bellatrix felt satisfied and walked away with Hermione still laying in the middle of the floor, blood rolling down her arm and tears down her cheeks.
Draco leaned over her to wipe the tears away; but like before, his hand went straight through. He couldn't understand why his dreams continued to torture him with the same night over and over again. "Why? Draco..." Her voice called.
In that moment, he shot up from his sleep covered in sweat. Another nightmare had taken over his subconscious and forced him to relive and endure that night all over again. Only this time, there was more things added to it. Hermione calling his name was entirely new, even if it was in questioning his nonexistent help.
Running a hand over his head, the dampness of his hair clung to his fingers. He tossed his covers off and slipped out of bed unnoticed by his roommate. He didn't know how much more of the dreams he could take before he completely went insane. Walking out of Syltherin house, he took his time wandering the empty halls. Fresh air was exactly what he needed. He knew that there wasn't going to be anymore sleep, not after that dream.
Draco studied every painting and every artifact on display in his walk. It didn't even dawn on him that he was walking in the direction of Gryffindor until he saw their emblem. It seemed like he was making a habit out of these nightly walks to be in there domain; but it was just where his legs carried him.
He wondered if he turned the next right he'd see Hermione sitting on the windowsill, staring out the window at the moon with her long mop of hair cascading down her back. A flash from his dream invaded his mind for a split second, reminding him of the newest addition. Her voice asking him why. Why he would allow it to happen. Swallowing the large lump in his throat, he turned the corner; but there was no one there.
The wood felt smooth under his touch as his fingers ran along the grain of the frame around the window. Sitting down on the sill, he looked out. He envied them, because the view was absolutely breathtaking. Draco was so engulfed in the view he never noticed Hermione walking down the stairs in his direction.
She stopped at the bottom to study him, wondering why he was even there for the third night in a row. It was becoming a habit for both of them to meet this way. His head was turned to face the outside, while his body remained towards her. The body she could see, for he was missing his shirt. To her surprise he wasn't all skin and bone. He actually had some muscle which caused her fingers to burn with a foreign desire.
"Staring Granger?" He announced, snapping her out of her trance.
"Don't flatter yourself." She retorted closing some of the distance between them.
"Whatever you say. Your friends think you are, by the way."
"How did..."
He reached up to point to his ear with a single finger, indicating that he had heard some the conversation from earlier in the day. Heat crept the her cheeks, remembering exactly what she had told Ron in that heated argument. She hoped that Draco hadn't heard that part; but then she really thought about it. "Would it really be that bad if he had heard it?" She mentally asked herself.
"He shouldn't talk to you that way, you know."
"Who?"
"Weasel."
She frowned at the use of Ron nickname Draco had given him early on in their years of school. When she thought that maybe he was different, he'd go back and use terms he had used to bully her friends. She was trying to give him the benefit of a doubt, because all terms of reality were pointing to not trust him; but there was something nagging at her. Like there was something different about him and she was curious to know what that was. "He'll eventually apologize...nothing to concern yourself with I assure you." She stated crossing her arms over her chest.
"Perhaps not. I'm sure you can take care of yourself..."
The cold gray of his eyes bore into her chestnut ones, threatening to break down the walls she had erected around herself since the war ended. Not only did she feel empty and alone, she didn't have her parents to run home to for comfort. She was like Harry in that aspect now, except the different now was that Harry went back to the Weasley family because of Ginny. They loved him like their own son. "I can take care of myself. You should know that."
"I suppose I do..."
"Can I ask you something?" She asked biting her bottom lip out of a nervous habit.
"I guess..."
"Why is it that for the last three nights, you've found yourself here?"
It came as no surprise to him that she was curious about that. He just didn't have an answer for her. At least not a believable one anyway. The nightmares came, woke him up and sent him there. It was simple as that. He had no idea why; but that's where he always ended up.
Hermione took another few steps closer to him, wanting to really see his face when he answered her question so she could tell if he was lying or not. He looked up to meet her gaze once more. There was a fire burning behind her eyes. A fire he admired. "I really don't have an answer for you. I have nightmares and when I wake up...I walk and it seems like my body likes to end up here. Nothing more basic than that."
"He has nightmares? Should I tell him that I do to?" She asked herself mentally. The look on his face showed her nothing but the truth. Hermione took another step towards him and another until she only stood a foot or so away. Close enough to touch, if she desired to. Reaching her own hand out to rest on top of his, the warmth of his skin startled her; but not as much as the electricity that passed through her the moment her flesh touched his.
"You aren't the only one..." She said softly.
Her touch wasn't expected; but he wasn't going to push it away either. Like he told himself the night before, he really thought that maybe she could be the one to help mend his scars; but now, he thought maybe he could help mend hers as well. Standing up, he kept hold of her hand witnessing the broken look in her eyes for himself. "Can you keep that information to yourself?" He asked keeping his voice free of any wrong emotion that may scare her off.
"I believe I can do that...as long as you keep what you know about me to yourself..."
"You won't have to worry about that. No one speaks to me anymore."
He let go of her hand and took several steps back. She watched him move away to walk back towards his own house. Out of the three nights, this was first time he left first. His back was to her and she couldn't help but stare at all the curves and the two large scars near his ribcage. She wondered how he had gotten those. Did he get them from the war? Did Voldemort give them to him? A smile curved her lips as she retreated back up the stairs. "That wasn't so bad. It felt almost easy to speak to him. Maybe things are different..." She said to herself just as she snuck back into her bed for the rest of the night.
