Song of the Chapter: Gravity by John Mayer

It was a quiet Saturday morning in the Great Hall. Not many students liked to go out of their dormitories during the weekends if not for their classes. These were usually the times that Draco could actually go to a meal, without being hounded by the others. Not that Draco didn't have enough alone time, it was just better that way he supposed.

Draco had unfortunately built the unhealthy habit of observing others while they were at their tables or in the hallways. And today, he found himself watching Astoria Greengrass chat endlessly with the other Slytherins about what Professor Carrow did the other day to one of his students.

"And then, Carrow lashed out on her, and literally flung her out of class. Little brat deserved it anyway, so I've been told," Astoria gossiped.

"So then what happened?" Pansy Parkinson asked curiously.

"Don't really know. All I know, a mudblood knows better than to raise her hand," she replied nonchalantly, sipping her orange juice. Draco's fork dug into the wooden table, receiving strange looks from the other surround him. It was what this school had resorted to. Punishing students for doing something as simple as raising their hand to answer a question. It was absolutely maddening.

Draco abruptly threw his napkin on his plate and stood, not wanting to hear anymore of it. He pushed aside his peers and exited the Great Hall. What made things worse was that that student could not do anything about it, not even tell Snape. Snape didn't do shit for the school, and still has the nerve to act like he is in charge.

He rounded the corner and headed straight for the Tower. Upon reaching the winding staircase, he paused. The eerie feeling that someone was following him returned to him. He spun around with his wand outstretched.

"Show yourself," Draco threatened.

"Relax, it's me," the voice echoed from around the corner. It was that girl again. Carina. It suddenly dawned on him that maybe the person Astoria was referring to was probably her. "Make a habit of following people?" Draco mocked, pocketing his wand.

"I just want to talk."

"We already are," Draco stated, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have Head duties to attend to."

Draco spun around and took a step up before Carina's voice called out to him, "You're not like the others." He paused a moment to comprehend what she said, and hesitated on the next step.

"You aren't cruel and you don't hurt the others."

"My, aren't we observant? And if that's all, I'll be going then."

"There's one more thing."

Draco kept his back turned away from her, and scoffed, "What?"

"You're alone."

Draco looked downward in thought before mumbling, "I'm reminded of that everyday," before climbing up the Tower steps.

Later that day, Draco received a letter from his Mother. He hesitated opening it, not wanting to receive any bad news. Or what his Mother usually gave him, fake news.

Dearest Draco,

You've been neglecting to answer my owls. I suppose you are very busy with your Head duties. Your Father and I are so proud of you for that. Things are better at the Manor. We've moved into the Western Wing of the house, considering our "guests" have taken up the entire Eastern side. No matter, we are fine and hope you are too.

With love,

Mother

Of course his Mother wouldn't tell him what was really going on. She liked to remain optimistic, even when all hope was lost. Draco loved his Mother dearly, and it was safe to say that she was the better parent for him than his Father, but her constant lying to protect him was irritating and made him feel like she hovered over him everywhere he went.

When he was assigned to kill Dumbledore the previous year, she had secretly made the Unbreakable Vow with Snape, which was originally why he killed him in the end.

That day never ceased to haunt Draco. It could have been the guilt, or the first time he was tortured by the Dark Lord, but most of all, it was the day he had to leave the one he loved to fight many battles without him.

Hermione. That was the last day he saw her, and up until that point he hasn't stopped thinking about her. He guessed she was on some sort of heroic mission with Potter to get everyone out of this mess. That was Hermione, always saving others, always fighting their battles. Draco knew that more than anyone.

"So many people have brought you down, and taken from you everything you ever wanted. You shouldn't be asking me that question, Draco, because maybe it's time for someone to ask you." She took two steps forward, and gazed directly into his eyes. "Tell me what you want, Draco."

"Even if I told you, I wouldn't deserve any of it."

"Maybe Draco Malfoy, the Deatheater, doesn't deserve it. But Draco Malfoy, the person..." she breathed out, taking his hand, "deserves everything." This was who Hermione Granger was. She was a person who can see so much more than a mean school bully, or a Deatheater. She saw Draco for what he truly was, and knew that he deserved happiness in his life. She sought a greater purpose within Draco, and found it. Draco always thought of her as a witch who did nothing but pry into others lives and demanded to know every single fact about the world around her, but she was so much more. He always thought he could never deserve someone like her. And here she was, telling him he deserved everything he ever wanted.

But the truth was, all he ever wanted was her.

Some would say she intervened. Some would say she was a distraction. Most would say he was everything wrong for her. But maybe instead, she was everything right for him.

Just after the rest of the class left, and Slughorn retreated to his office, Draco carried his things over to the smoking cauldron and set them down next to it. Curiously, he lifted the cover and let the overwhelming scent hit his nostrils with full force. He didn't know what to expect when he smelt it, but the familiar scent of Hermione's perfume overwhelmed his senses. He also found the faint smell of grass she had referred to.

It bothered him to no end how much that potion smelled like her. It only made him want to see her more, which was exactly what she wanted. He told himself he couldn't or wouldn't. But that's the thing about her, she had a way of drawing you in and making you want her more, and at the same time drive you absolutely fucking crazy.

But he just had to push her away. He couldn't let her into his cruel little world. He wouldn't.

"I can't hate you if you haven't done anything yet! So just tell me, Draco! Tell me so I don't have to feel like you're just never going to let me in! Tell me so I don't have to feel like you're just going to leave me in the end!" Draco faced away from her furiously. How could he tell her? He couldn't stand seeing her hate him again. He shouldn't have let it go on for too long. Who was he kidding? He was being selfish. He wanted what he couldn't have and was letting her take the consequences.

"You are going to leave me in the end, aren't you?" It was the forbidden question. The unspoken question.

"I have no choice, Hermione..."

But she came back, and he let her.

She held his hand and with a long loving look, said, "We are the most perfect impossibility, aren't we?"

"Absolutely."

"And this thing that you're doing now, your mission, it's going to change everything, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Hermione wiped a tear out of the corner of her eyes and asked, "And when can I ever see you again?"

"You won't."

And even if it was to say goodbye, well, to put it simply: Every moment, of every minute, of every hour, of everyday was well worth it with Hermione Granger. And he wouldn't trade away any of it. That day, she left him in that Hospital wing with tears and a heavy heart. But not without telling him she loved him, and that was what saddened Draco the most.

He broke her heart, and watched Hermione fall apart before his very eyes. Sometimes, he wished he hadn't kissed her that night in the Astronomy Tower, telling her everything she needed to know about him. Sometimes, he wished Hermione would have never spoken to him, so she wouldn't have ended up carrying the burden he called his heart.

She must have left her hand on his arm for the longest time, because both of them grew tired of standing and sat together in the corner of the Tower. None had spoken a word yet, and the silence was just so painful to bear. She tucked her right arm under his left and let her thumb continue to rub back and forth against the symbol.

She wished it was a stain, just a drop of ink on his pale skin that she could wipe away and never have to look at again. Draco didn't want to look at it either, in fact, he kept his head turned in a painfully awkward position just so he didn't have to.

"This isn't you, Draco," she finally broke their silence.

"What do you mean?" he asked lifelessly.

"This...symbol, it's not you."

"I'm the one who accepted it. I chose to let the Dark Lord connect me to him. Everything about it is me."

"You've let it take your skin, you've let it take your beliefs, but one thing it cannot take..." she paused and placed her other hand on his chest, "is your heart."

"Draco...Draco, wake up." Draco woke with a start and lifted his head off his desk to meet the familiar brown eyes of Carina, nudging him awake. He quickly reached for his wand and held it up to her neck with rapid speed.

"What are you doing here?" he seethed, "No one is supposed to be up here but me!"

"I ju-just, I-" she stuttered, but could not find the words. He carefully lowered his wand and looked around. It was already dark and he must have fallen asleep at his desk. He forgot that the Astronomy Tower was open to everyone, he just thought that he claimed this territory as his own.

"Leave," Draco commanded solemnly.

"Why are you up here?"

"I said, leave!" Draco yelled, "And don't ever come back." He turned away and set his wand aside near his robes. "N-No," Carina stammered. Draco's eyes lit up, and he turned painstakingly slow with a sneer on his face.

"What did you say to me?"

"I-I said, no."

Draco slammed the girl up against the brick wall behind her, whilst grabbing his wand again and pressing it painfully against her neck. He kept her arms locked to her sides as she whimpered against his masculine form. "What do you want from me?!" he spat.

"I-I find you...interesting," she whimpered. Draco's eyes widened and was suddenly more aware of what was really happening. She liked him. He let her go and took a step back to examine her as if she had just transformed into a Cornish pixie. Carina had long chocolate brown hair and olive skin, with warm brown eyes to match. "I just thought you could use a friend," she stated with a timid voice.

"I don't need friends," he spat again, "And believe me, a girl like you wouldn't want to be friends with someone like me."

"You may be a Deatheater, but that doesn't have to change who you are!"

"Well, doesn't that sound familiar," he mumbled, not realizing he had thought aloud.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing. Just...do yourself a favor, and leave while you still can," he said suddenly calmer. Suddenly his mind was filled with images of Hermione and just how similar Carina was to her. Carina gave a huff of defeat and walked to the exit. At the archway, she placed a small hand on the stone wall, and looked behind her at him who was already immersed in his own thoughts.

"It's someone else, isn't it?"

"Yes," he breathed out.

"Well, whoever she is...you should go after her."