Reunited; Chapter Four.
The Final Words.
It was early October, and Draco was walking through the Grounds with his robes hugged tightly around him. Alongside was Hermione, who was sporting a red and gold striped scarf, much too alike her Gryffindor house. Draco eyed it with distaste, as he wore his green and silver version. There was still that constant reminder that they were separated. The two had been meeting up to discuss their lives for a while, but Draco couldn't help but sense Hermione fading away, slipping through his fingers and drifting. She'd been spending a lot of time with Potter and Weasley, much to his chagrin, and it did not sit well with Draco knowing that. His father has specifically told him not to associate with the both of them, and what Draco couldn't do, he wanted Hermione not to do either.
"I don't so much like the outdoors," he heard the girl beside him mutter.
"What?!" Draco cried, eyeing her incredulously as they walked along the edge of the lake, like they usually did, "You were the person who taught me to appreciate the outdoors and everything it has to offer. What's wrong with you?"
Hermione sighed.
"I'd just much rather be inside, in the library or something, it's quiet in there and I like it."
"That Potter and Weasel are having a bad effect on you," Draco mused, pronouncing both of their names with a tone of distaste.
Hermione stopped immediately and stared at her friend with a furrowed brow.
"His names Ron Weasley, not Weasel! And they're very nice, if you must know!" she attempted to keep her voice calm but Draco could sense the angry undertone.
"I don't want you hanging around with them, Hermione!" Draco continued walking, leaving Hermione straddling behind him.
"I told you not to call me Hermione!" she said, her voice echoing over the lake and in the cool, silent breeze, "Why can't I be friends with both of you?"
Draco stopped, and Hermione stopped beside him. He gazed down, now having grown a little, and looked into her slightly flushed face. It reminded him of the time's they'd play in his garden in the cold, and race down the grass and courtyard. But it wasn't the same girl he was looking at. Hermione didn't have that devilish grin anymore. She didn't have that presence and confidence that had Draco so intrigued the first time he met her. She was different.
"Because you're not the girl I thought I knew. You're not the girl who messed with Creepy Bill. You're not the girl who ran through the fields near my house, trying to scare me by hiding. Now you just read all the time. And study," Draco said the last bit with a little more distaste, "And whenever you're around Potter and his sidekick you're all.. girly and giggles- and not Hermione."
Her brow was furrowed, and her lips were pursed in a disapproving manner Draco had noticed Hermione had acquired recently.
"Maybe because I am a girl!" She cried, "And messing with helpless muggles like that is just wrong! You could've exposed magic and had us both in trouble-"
"-Since when did you care about trouble?" Draco was feeling more angry than he'd expected. His fists were clenched and as brow was knit in frustration. "Last time I remembered, that's what we used to go looking for!"
"Well I don't want to anymore! Harry and Ron can have fun without causing disruption, and I like that!" Hermione admitted, folding her arms angrily.
"Well, why are you here with me then? Go and run along to your little friends and play exploding snap or whatever you do!"
Hermione felt the tears prick her eyes carelessly. She blinked, attempting to hold them at bay. She'd never argued with Draco, they never had anything to argue over. But now that she was, she found she didn't like it. As she watched what once was her bestfriend, turn and walk away from her, she couldn't help but run after him. Reaching out a cold hand, she grabbed the boys arm in attempt to stop him. Draco turned furiously, shrugging off her grip a little more roughly than she'd anticipated.
"We can still be friends! I'm still Granger! I'm still Hermione!" she cried, but Draco didn't care. He had a sneer that she'd only ever seen him have for everyone but her. Now, it was merely the two of them, and she knew that look of distaste was meant for her and only her.
"No, you're not, you've changed," he said, in a low, intimidating voice, "I wouldn't be your friend now, if you were the last person on earth."
"You don't scare me, Draco," she glowered, but in that moment, she was a little scared. She wasn't sure whether this was fear of losing him, or fear of Draco himself.
"I should do," he growled, standing closely and towering over her, "You and your ungrateful, stupid, muggle parents. It'd ruin my family reputation if it got out we were helping people like you. I don't know what I ever saw in you. You're just a pathetic, filthy-"
Draco was looking for the right word that would hurt her like she'd unintentionally hurt him. He wanted her to feel the pain and the upset like she'd put him through! He'd heard his father mutter a certain word concerning muggles and muggle-borns before when he was angry, but wasn't quite sure how severe it was. In that moment, he didn't care. Hermione had taken his heart and ripped it out of his chest. He cared for her! He had a bond with her that he'd never made with anyone else, though he despised himself for it. It was not the Malfoy thing to care for anyone other than yourself. But he'd thought Hermione was different. He could hear the word ringing in his ears, begging to escape on the tip of his tongue.
"Mudblood," he spat, and turned, striding away by the side of the lake, leaving Hermione in the winter chill.
The word had shot straight to her heart. It was like a thousand knives piercing the surface, slashing at the invisible barrier keeping her from crying, as the tears began to stream down her face. She'd read about that word in Hogwarts: A History, which Draco had leant her. She sobbed as she watched the only real friend she'd ever made, walk away from her. She called his name with a shaky, devastated voice, and he could hear her shrill cries. But it took all his might not to run back and comfort her like the older brother he had always been to her. The lump in his throat began to grow as he walked away from the only real thing he'd ever had in his life. Away from the memories and the person she once was. But she wasn't the same. And Draco knew he couldn't be friends with her, knowing she was friends with them. He didn't want to disappoint his family. The only person now, he was disappointing, was himself. He could live with that; the heavy heart and the system shutdown of anything feelings in his body. It didn't matter about his feelings. He had to do what was right. As the wind whipped at his bare skin, he felt himself breaking away from the only person he'd ever loved apart from his family, who he was inclined to.
That was the day Hermione had her heart broken, by someone she never thought she would
And that was the day Draco Malfoy became immune to any feelings of compassion he had for someone other than himself.
The limb that he felt was lost when she was not around, was instead ripped from him completely, and replaced with something stronger, more desensitized, leaving no trace that she had ever been there. From then on, Hermione Granger had no idea how her life would change.