Chapter 3- Message

When the morning light shun through the dormitory's window, Hermione could've sworn she still hadn't enjoyed a minute of sleep. She rubbed her stingy, blood-shot eyes and turned away from the luminous rays. The thunderstorm of the previous night had left no apparent marks, unlike her devastating encounter with Malfoy, and the sun seemed to be out for the first time in just over two weeks. The glow coming from outside hurt her tired sight, making her hide under the covers, attempting to reconstruct, in an organized way, the thoughts and memories that kept her awake, depriving her of much needed sleep.

For the whole of that night, Hermione could only think of her archenemy. It was useless to direct her mind's attention elsewhere, his menacing smile and dark grey eyes were all she could see. How stupid of her to obsess over someone so unworthy. Though that was entirely true, it was meaningless to try to sleep, knowing that she would awake to the sight of him in the early morning. Quite unfortunately, her first class of the day would be Potions, which was still the only one she had with her Slytherin mates.

Sharing such a small space with his ghostly figure caused her some unwelcomed anxiety. Merlin, she was not ready to face him again. It seemed like the slow-passing hours of darkness had not done a good job of preparing her for the impeding doom. She had hoped it would at least be enough for her to figure to out what she was going to do, but her thoughts were too tangled together to help her construct a worthy idea.

Ever since the battle, anger flooded her blood, her inferior mudblood blood, and words burned her throat and effervesced on her tongue. The frustration was delirious and constant. Her mind was screaming but it seemed she was almost mute, as nothing escaped her rosy lips.

I hate you.

You have done nothing to deserve a place back at Hogwarts.

You're just like your hellish father, arrogant and obsessed with power.

And you're a fucking douchebag too.

Her brain continuously circled around these and other sentences alike, and her blood pulsed furiously in her veins, bringing her to a blank, paranoid state of mind. He made her so unnerved; it was nearly impossible to calm down. Just knowing he was inside Hogwarts at that very moment made her knees weak. She wanted to empty the screams lodged inside her lungs. Despite her tense state, she knew that letting him win, or letting him think that she was going to let him walk all over her that year was not an option. That was the most important part; that's what she had to focus on.

And Hermione wanted to stand her ground, she really did, but she couldn't deny or let go of her newfound fragility. It wasn't like she was ever good at confrontation, and Malfoy unfortunately already knew this, but now she was also deaf. How does one have a fulfilling argument with someone when they're fucking deaf? She hardly even spoke these days, how would she find the courage to scream at him?

"Bullocks." She whispered to herself, rolling her eyes.

"Harry, I really don't want to talk to you." Hermione cocked her head to right, turning away from him, and he sighed, before tapping her on the shoulder again.

"Hermione, please…" Harry pleaded, as his friend turned to him once more "I'm really sorry I didn't tell you about Malfoy."

"As you should be." Hermione groaned, snapping close her book before racing down the hall, only to be stopped once more by Harry.

"I thought it was best like this." He shrugged, resting one hand on her shoulder. The only good thing about their conversations was that Harry always tried his hardest to make her understand everything he said, even when he knew she didn't want to talk. "You were so upset about him over the summer."

"I appreciate the… Concern." Hermione cleared her throat "But finding out the way I did… Worse."

Harry followed her until they reached their classroom, sitting down next to her, ignoring the slight probability of her not actually wanting him to sit there. He could instantly tell she was anxious: her trembling hands and legs swinging under the table were the main signals, her lip chewing coming as a close third.

She barely even noticed Professor Slughorn entering the room, but when she did, she was slightly relieved that she wouldn't hear shit of what would happen in that class. At least that way she had an excuse to be immersed in her own deadly thoughts, though it was one that never really satisfied her.

"I know you're bloody pissed with me, but I really thought I was protecting you." Harry wrote, sneaking the note to her in a quick, swift motion.

"Ginny told me this morning that Ronald was the one Malfoy got in a fight with." Hermione wrote back, and her friend held in a chuckle when he read it; he always found it so amusing when she used their full names to show them she was mad.

"You know how carried away he gets with his revengeful thoughts…"

"I know. But you're still both idiots. And you shouldn't have hid it from me for four days."

"You're right, like always. Won't happen again." Harry looked at her, looking for any small sign of forgiveness.

Her expression softened immediately, it was impossible to stay mad at Harry for too long. He slightly moved his hand towards her, tightening the grip. Hermione accepted his gentle move, sighing and slyly hiding a smile.

"Listen, I…" Harry mumbled ungracefully, before pursing his lips and turning to the door, estranging his hand from hers.

It seemed every other student was also suddenly facing that way as well, and Hermione felt her stomach flip. She didn't have to look to know exactly what was going on. Harry felt a shiver run up his spine, a mixture of anger and repulse commanding his shriveling expression. He heard Ron growl something under his breath and was suddenly thankful Hermione couldn't.

Malfoy.

His tall figured filled the doorframe almost completely, standing hesitantly whilst barely making eye contact with anyone, before Slughorn commanded him to sit down. Even that twat of a professor seem to have a tone of haste in his voice, Malfoy noticed, mentally telling him to fuck off.

Hermione was still holding her breath, watching him closely. He sat down next to Zabini, barely attentive to anyone else around him. His face was bruised, just like she thought it would be, and he was focusing his attention solely on his hands. He seemed aloof and distant, traits Hermione recognized and identified with instantly. How utterly shitty it is to have something in common with the enemy…

He slowly turned to Blaise to whisper something, and her stomach twisted. Being in the same classroom as the blonde intruder was already torturous enough, but not being able to hear anything he said kept her even more on edge.

"Is the Weasley rat mumbling all that shit at me?" Malfoy asked his mate, who offered him an annoyed look in response.

"Yeah. You're all anyone can talk about these days."

"And you seem bloody pissed about it." Malfoy arched up his eyebrow, obviously defying his friend. "I guess not much has changed."

"Actually, a lot has changed, Malfoy." Blaise dryly spit out, making Draco swallow back his words.

Though Malfoy hated to admit it, a lot of things did seem different. Draco had always been an easily stimulated person, and even if he didn't show it, he was extremely attentive to details. Every one knew him as detached and uncaring, but he could actually become rather interested and invested in his observations, creating or discovering patterns in others' behaviors. He had many patterns himself, but self-analysis was his least favorite subject. He found that judging others suited him much better. And in just less of a week, he noticed a lot of patterns broken and deranged, causing him some confusion but attracting interest.

For once, everyone around him had a distant glare and seemed to be just as unbothered as him with classes and Hogwarts in general. It was strange. All the other houses had always been endlessly more interested in the school routine than him, yet now, it didn't feel like that at all. In his months of hiding, he'd always figured that everyone would be glad the great evil was finally defeated, and that the ones who carried his mark were either imprisoned or dead; but it seemed to have little effect on their overall moods or actions.

His dark, cloudy eyes wandered to the table behind him and Blaise, on the left side of the classroom. Granger and Potter were sitting, and what a magnificent duo they made.

Cringe worthy.

The events of the previous night replayed in his head. Granger had acted beyond the stupidity he expected, which stunned him greatly. What was wrong with her? She was so bloody freakish. Even more so at that moment as he eyed her attentively, noticing she didn't look herself. She was quite passive, barely paying attention to the class, her hand strangely still, resting on her thigh. He could've sworn that that was an impostor sitting there beside Potter, and the actual annoyingly overachiever she had always been, was locked away somewhere else. It seemed that no one else thought it was odd though, which only enticed him to find out more. If there was something he'd missed, he would naturally like to discover what it was… Only so he could make fun of her more, of course.

"Hey, Zabini," Malfoy called in a whisper "What made Granger go full mental?"

"What?" Blaise replied in confusion, taking a quick glance at Hermione, then back to Malfoy.

"She's bloody mental now. Found her yesterday at the library and she was so fucking weird. Little miss perfect couldn't even speak properly." Draco shrugged, demonstrating a smug twitch in his lips.

"Malfoy, she's deaf." He explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"What? No." Malfoy shook his head. That was ridiculous. Certainly he was only pulling a joke on him. "Don't lie to me, Zabini."

"I'm not." Blaise simply said, his face as serious as it could've been "Death eaters attacked her during the battle, I think. She's completely deaf now, mate, has been ever since."

"But… But that's impossible." Draco stuttered, his chest suddenly tightening in discomfort.

"Can't believe you didn't figure it out." Blaise stated, cocking up his eyebrows "But I am expecting even you to have some fucking decency about this and not mess with her. Just don't speak to her again, all right? That's what all of us have been doing anyway."

Malfoy was dumb silent. His heart picked up its pace, and he remembered his strange encounter with her once more.

"Are you fucking deaf?"

Holy shit, he'd actually said that to her.

Oh fucking shit. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.

Well, he didn't actually know she was deaf, for fuck's sake…

If he had known…

No. Even if he had known, nothing would've been different. They were natural born enemies; it was in their biology, their anatomy, and most damning and dooming of all, in their blood. Nothing would change. So what if she was deaf now? That only meant she was even more pathetic than before, and that her inferiority was now beaming out of her like neon in the dark; obvious and impossible to ignore.

It sure would make it more challenging for him to mock her though, since she couldn't actually hear him. Thankfully, Malfoy adored challenges…

Hermione on the other hand, was rigid and slightly panicking in her seat. She could feel Malfoy's eyes burn through her for most of the class, probably planning his next round of insults and verbal attacks. She was determined to get to him first though. All class she had thought, again and again, of what she would say, and this time she wouldn't fail. If he wanted a fight, he would get one. If he wanted to dart her with insults, she would have to shield and defend herself as well.

"Hermione, are you coming?" Harry asked at the end of class, while lazily packing up his books.

"No, I need to talk to the professor." Hermione lied in a short, barely understandable sentence, knowing she could no longer enunciate 'Slughorn' like a normal, hearing person.

"Let's just meet in Charms then." Harry offered her a smile and Hermione gave a sincere, though nervous one in return.

"See you later, Hermione." Ron waved too, a rare smile blooming on his lips.

Hermione nodded with a happy expression in return. Any time Ron demonstrated any sign of happiness or closed in the rebellious distance between them, Hermione couldn't help but enjoy a few seconds of bliss and normality.

Her eyes followed her friends until they left the classroom at last. Every other student had already gotten out as well, except for Malfoy, who coincidentally, but also thankfully, had stayed behind just like her. She felt a nervous tremble in her throat as she turned to his table, walking with fake confidence towards him.

He watched her approach him unexpectedly, and sat back down, immediately caught off guard.

"Malfoy." She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of her probably already shaky voice "You shouldn't have come back."

A silent pause settled between them, just as Malfoy stared at her with a puzzled look riddled on his face.

"You're selfish and…" She hesitated, her mind completely blank. Words were failing her again.

"Any problem, Granger?" He said slowly, obviously amused by the situation.

"Evil. You're evil." She clumsily mumbled, lifting her thin index finger and pointing it to him. Fuck, it was harder than she had anticipated. "I… Hate you."

"It's mutual." Malfoy replied slowly, enunciating every syllable as clearly as his swollen lips allowed "Anything thing else?"

Hermione sensed herself beginning to break down again. How was he doing this? She felt so useless and utterly powerless around him, it was sickening. Before she could show any more signs of weakness, she decided to end their conversation right there.

"Fuck." Hermione mumbled again, before turning around and racing out of the classroom.

"Well, that went well." Draco sighed, torn if he should laugh at her pathetic second attempt to tell him off, or actually offer her some well-deserved pity.

Definitely laugh though; he had to stay true to his maleficent character.

Absolutely humiliated for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. How fucking great. Frustration was still thundering inside her. She was mad at him for making her feel so small and like such an idiot, and mad at herself for allowing him to do so. That whole situation was maddening, especially when she realized that her Gryffindor tenacity would continue to cling to her mercilessly, no matter how great the embarrassment she felt…

Draco Malfoy, this is not over yet.

The crisp air became tougher to breathe the closer Draco got to McGonagall's office. She had marked a said 'emergency meeting' a few hours before, and his will to attend it was dangerously low. He was sure it was going to be just useless, intimidating, backhanded advice; maybe a threat or two about him being expelled for his erratic behavior; and surely a guilt trip through the memories of now dead men. It was surely pointless for him to even go but the hope of maybe receiving a new wand after months of being unable to do magic, was enough to drag his legs through the castle.

Before he could even knock on the old witch's door, it opened itself, and a distant voice told him to enter, despite his body's unwillingness. Inside sat McGonagall, always with the same frowning expression and rigid demeanor. His shoulders tensed at the cold draft of air that danced itself around him, before stepping it carefully.

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall sighed in a monotonous tone "I expect you already know what this meeting is about?"

"I have a slight idea." Malfoy smugly replied, sitting down in front of her. "But I think it's best if you explain it."

"Your fight with Mr. Weasley showed little to no growth from your part, and that behavior was and always will be completely unacceptable- "

"But that prick was the one who started it! You saw him throw himself at me like some sort of animal with rabies, I…" Malfoy interrupted frantically, his chest expanding along side his ego.

"Please do not interrupt me, Draco." The witch said in a tired, cracked voice. He cringed that his name being slowly dragged out of her mouth. "I hope you didn't expect to leave this situation unpunished."

"I already got my punishment!" He growled, pointing his finger to his fragile, bruised face. "Look at my fucking face. Without my wand I can't fix it and…"

"In case you have forgotten, there's a very capable nurse at the Hospital Wing. I suggest you pay her a visit if you want to get better. I also suggest you watch your language and your attitude, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall bitterly remarked, making Draco swallow his pride. "Mr. Weasley has already been punished for his erratic behavior, and so now it is only fair that you should also be held accountable for your actions as well."

"Are you going to send me to the fucking Forbidden Forest again?" Malfoy spit out, attempting to recover his position.

"Mr. Malfoy, I believe you will feel much more relieved and less restrained when you eventually stop fighting your current conditions."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Malfoy huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

"This is not the same school we all grew to love; some things have changed, and this is the only time frame for adaptation. All of us have suffered and have lost loved ones because of the war. I suggest you try to understand just how much you have in common with everyone else, instead of trying to assert your superiority."

Silence engulfed them. He didn't know what to say. Having something in common with the enemy was unthinkable and unrealistic… At least until now. It was a repulsive thought really, he had absolutely nothing in common with those fucking disgusting Gryffindors, or anybody else for that matter. Nobody even knew where he had been; nobody knew what he'd been through. His mind escaped his self-involved thoughts for a mere second and his lip twitched: Granger.

"Granger…" Draco whispered, immediately regretting speaking at all. "She's deaf, right?"

"I'm afraid so." McGonagall sadly nodded, slightly confused by the change of topic.

"Oh." He cleared his throat, not wanting to continue that conversation. "What's my punishment after all? I got shit to do after this."

"One month of generous help."

"Excuse me?" the blonde asked in disbelief.

"I believe you have become quite unfamiliar with the Hogwarts grounds, thus the suggestion of making its acquaintance once more. You shall help out Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing for a few days, and maybe you should start that task soon, might as well take care of yourself while you're there… And then the library, and of course, the teachers and students of every year." The Headmistress explained, a small smile appearing on her tired face.

"What a sodding nightmare." Malfoy replied immediately, closing his eyes "When will I get a new wand? This is becoming ridiculous."

"It's being taken care of. But you can't use it during your chores, that's part of your punishment, Mr. Malfoy."

"Whatever." He rolled his stormy eyes, massaging his temples "Can I go now?"

"You may go, yes." McGonagall nodded "A schedule will be given to you quite soon."

Malfoy got up without replying, running his hands through his hair.

"Oh, and Mr. Malfoy." The old witch called again, and he unwillingly turned to her again. "Take in consideration everything I told you today. You are not the enemy. We would all be much grateful if you could stop trying to fight against all of us who are trying to guide and aid you."

"Compassion is not a part of my nature." He dryly explained, leaving her office with a serious, almost malicious smile. "And I don't need saving or guidance."

What a bunch of bollocks.

Almost a week since he returned to Merlin's hell and still no fucking wand. He was utterly useless without it, had been for endless months now. He was desperately longing for a sense of normality, clinging to the slow demise of his self-worth. The loss of his family meant loss of touch with reality. His existence was abstract, lacking any real definition or dimension. His body was there, physically present, slowly degrading, but his mind was absent. Having escaped a very narrow death the night his parents were untimely struck really ruined him. The Malfoy Manor had become haunted and undeniably dangerous. Draco was suddenly homeless, starving; stuck between the nothingness of today and the illusion that tomorrow would be better. It never was though.

And it wasn't until his fragile, wrecked body felt the soft touch of the mattress the night he arrived that he understood just how little he had left in the world. No more dignity, no more games and no more will to keep surviving. How could he not struggle or fight against his circumstances when they were the ones who fucked him up in the first place? That sodding bitch had no idea what she was talking about, not even she knew what had happened to him. It was all a fucking nightmare, especially after reconsidering what McGonagall had told him… One month of helping out his insufferable teachers and students… What a fucking joke.

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes as he reached the dungeons. Blaise greeted him with a simple wave, unbelievably indifferent to his friend's presence. Goyle was chatting with some girl Draco didn't try to recognize, completely avoiding him like he had done all week. Even his Slytherin blokes seem to not care about him, maybe afraid or even revolting against him.

He slid into bed without saying more than three words to everyone else, and thanked Merlin silently, like he did every single night, for finally having a bed again.

"Hermione, you're barely eating." Ginny noted, resting one hand on her shoulder.

"Not hungry." Hermione replied, shrugging and pushing her plate away.

"What's wrong? You were bloody restless tonight." Ginny insisted, taking a bite of her toast.

"Nothing." Hermione shook her head "Honest."

Ginny knew something was wrong, her instincts rarely ever failed her, but she had learnt the hard way to not insist too much with Hermione. Bending her too far much out of shape was just a deadly idea that often resulted in her immediate shut down. She looked eager though, anxious even, her brown eyes locked steady on the Great Hall door.

Ron and Harry were discussing the next Quidditch match, with neither paying attention to Hermione, who was quite thankful for them not asking her any other questions about her mood that morning.

A few minutes later, Malfoy entered the Great Hall and quietly sat down, triggering Ron to fire some quick insults under his breath. Any time he saw Malfoy, he couldn't contain the exaggerated anger he felt running through his whole body, and Harry would always have to talk some brutal sense into him, trying to avoid another needless, violent fight.

Hermione missed his entrance though, as she was glancing at Ron's mouth filled with bread, spitting crumbs as he said something she couldn't possibly decipher, probably even if she could still hear. Shaking her head in a disapproving manner, her eyes turned to the ceiling, following a cold draft of air that suddenly chilled the Great Hall. Owls had flown in quite eagerly, though their movements showed coordination and direction. A smile bloomed on her lips as she followed Hedwig's movements, watching it drop an envelope in front of Malfoy.

Malfoy eyed the envelope with suspicion, unaware that anyone would ever care to mail him again. It was impeccably white, and neat handwriting spelled out his name on the top right corner.

"Who's that from?" Blaised intercepted his thoughts, glancing over the envelope with the same expression of surprise and suspicion.

"I don't know, but even if I did, it's none of your business." Malfoy spit out, grabbing the paper and storing it inside his pocket.

"You're a prick." Blaise blatantly told him, returning to his private conversation with Goyle.

"I'm aware." Malfoy nodded, getting up to leave the Great Hall.

Curiosity was eating away his insides, but opening that letter in front of everyone would attract unwanted attention. He sheltered himself in a lonely hallway, enjoying the few minutes of solitude before those corridors became flooded with pupils. He sat in a dusty corner, analyzing the envelope before reading it, tracing the ink letters with his fingers. Opening it with care, he noticed the same neat handwriting filled an entire page of parchment.

Dear Draco Malfoy,

I don't think you deserve a space back at Hogwarts after everything you've done. You're immature, irresponsible, and an insecure wizard. You're selfish and your blind hate is suffocating. I utterly regret your existence here.

And this is something very out of character for me, to write to someone just to explain how much I despise them, but this is what you do to people: you intoxicate them. Consider me intoxicated as well.

I don't think I will be speaking to you ever again; so don't worry about having to come up with insults to strike me with when you read this.

Hermione Granger.

"Holy shit." Draco mumbled under his breath, rubbing his temples in a surprised, slightly nervous manner.

a/n: Sorry this took a bit longer than the other chapters, but I was travelling and jetlag has been torturing me these days.

I'm not really satisfied with this chapter though, I'll probably edit it soon enough. Tell me what you think! Leave your reviews! :)

Thanks! Rita