Chapter 4: Dead Hearts

I saw her enter the room, fresh tears staining her cheeks, and scoffed to myself. "Granger," I muttered. She would leave immediately and tell Potter. Never did I expect the softening of her face when she saw me. And instead of leaving, she took a step closer. I turned my face away quickly.

"You should go, Granger." I said coldly, although my head was swimming. I cursed myself when my voice came out weaker than I meant.

I heard small steps growing closer. They came slowly and timidly, and I wondered if Granger would really stay. I was determined not to let her.

"Leave," I spat, standing up with my back to her. I was a little pleased to hear my voice had regained its strength and ferocity.

A small wavering hand placed itself gently on the very edge of my shoulder. I shook with rage and a fiery emotion I couldn't identify. I whirled around, glaring. "I wasn't asking. I don't talk to Mudbloods," I hissed. Her face turned to one of alarm and she pulled back her hand quickly, but she didn't move.

"You too?" she whispered ever so quietly. With her words I crumpled back to the floor. "You feel it too?"

I laid my head in my hands and ran my fingers through my matted, tear-soaked hair. I knew what she meant, and it ruined me to know I could identify with her. I said nothing but stared at the palms of my hands.

She sat too, feet away but close enough that I could hear every shuddering breath. "I know," she whispered, voice breaking at the end. I didn't move. I refused to have a 'moment' with her. "It feels like every breath is betraying him, Ron I mean, because we were supposed to be there for every breath and we were supposed to be there, having our last breaths at the same time. It wasn't supposed to be like this." Granger said, stuttering over her words and gasping for breath between small sobs.

"I don't care about your pathetic struggles, Granger." I said through clenched teeth, and I didn't. But I knew what she meant, and a miniscule pang of emotion shot through my chest. Her face turned toward me. I observed how pitiful she looked. Her normally untamable hair had turned greasy and limp, probably because she slept through most days, or so I heard. Her eyes were puffy and swollen from crying, and they were flat, devoid of emotion. She was as pale as The Bloody Baron, and she had lost weight from skipping so many meals. She looked worse than I had ever seen her, and I had seen her emerging from the library after days on end of studying. A spark of pity flared in me.

"Was it hard, watching them die?" she asked quietly.

My parents. Dead at the hand of Voldemort, just minutes before he had died himself. Bad luck, my mother would have said. I closed my eyes lightly, and I could still see them, my mother's quill scribbling furiously to Bellatrix, my father with his cigar and his wand in hand, ordering around the house elves. Not exactly the ideal family, but it was the only way I remembered them. Busy.

"Yes," I answered truthfully, so quietly I wasn't sure Granger even heard me. I hoped she hadn't. My reply surprised me. I hadn't meant to answer the Mudblood's question, especially not so honestly. But a small weight had lifted off my chest, so I didn't say anything more.

"You fought for us. You fought against your parents and the Death Eaters," she stated.

I stood suddenly. No one was supposed to have seen me sending curses at my own side. It had been a lapse in judgment. I angrily pulled back my left sleeve, revealing a slightly faded Dark Mark. "I am a Death Eater. I don't fight against my own kind." I spat, sneering as I had become accustomed to. My sneer faded, though, when I saw she wasn't fazed by it.

"I saw you," she murmured. "I saw you curse your father. Do you blame yourself for what happened?" I groaned. Why wouldn't the witch give up and leave already?

"Leave, Granger." I ordered, less firmly than I meant to. She stood up, and I clenched my fists tightly. Maybe she finally would. Instead, though, she walked over to me and laid her hand on my shoulder again. I shook at her touch, but didn't pull away this time.

"It's okay." She breathed, and I couldn't be sure if she was talking to me or herself, but part of me tugged towards her words. Maybe it would be okay.