Chapter Four
Hermione successfully made it to the next lesson without losing her mind worrying about it.
"I'll see you in the common room after Quidditch," Ron reminded Hermione, and just as he had two nights ago, he kissed her nervous lips.
A strangled choking noise broke the moment. Ron had paused for a little too long before pulling away, long enough for Draco to round the corner of the corridor.
"Grow up, Malfoy." Ron threw him a harsh look of disapproval, keeping his arms around Hermione.
"Why don't you grow up and have a real relationship for once. There's more to love than snogging." Draco rolled his eyes, opening the Transfiguration room's door.
"Like you know what love is," Ron retorted as Hermione tried to get him to leave. She didn't want a fight to break out. "You get a girl to fall for you and the next second her clothes are lying on the floor."
"I wish it were that easy," Draco smirked. Hermione hadn't seen him so lively in almost a year. His confidence clearly grew from making people feel awful about themselves and poor Ron was tonight's victim.
"Just go Ron, before this gets worse," Hermione said, giving him a push down the corridor. He gave a small wave goodbye and followed her orders.
She and Draco set themselves up at the same desk and Hermione retrieved some new, larger objects to practice on.
"So... you and Weasley?"
"That's none of your business," Hermione stole Draco's line from the other night. He would only continue picking Ron's dignity to pieces if she elaborated on the subject.
He didn't respond but pulled out his wand, ready to start. Hermione had him try the same spells as last session but on the larger more complex items. His transfigurations were to be more intricate and drastic.
"Is this tea kettle nice enough for you, Granger?" Draco asked after he had completely altered the lavender stripe pattern on the side to a darker display of maroon roses. He held the kettle up for her to see. "Does this look more intri-"
A violent crash rang throughout the empty classroom as Draco let the kettle slip from his fingers. He inhaled sharply, cringing in pain as Hermione nearly flew out of her chair in surprise.
"Are- Are you alright?" she asked cautiously. Draco's breathing had suddenly increased and he was struggling to regain his composure.
"Yeah, I... don't know what happened. I wasn't holding the handle enough, apparently," he said though he sounded as if he didn't believe what he was telling her. Hermione barely believed his story either, but she knew if she persisted, he would only snap at her. "Why do you care anyway?"
"It's human nature to care. Reparo," Hermione restored the kettle's broken shards and placed it gently on the table, away from Draco. She noticed him play with the sleeve of his left arm, wrapping his long pale fingers around his wrist.
"It was that foul thing on your arm, wasn't it?" She put his action into a logical answer, staring, horror-struck at the young Death Eater in front of her. "It started burning, the dark mark."
"Burning?" Draco yanked his sleeve up around his elbow, allowing Hermione to see the gruesome outline of a skull, a snake protruding from its mouth. "This thing doesn't just burn. It feels like my entire arm's been cut off and thrown into the fires of Hell." Hermione could see the agony reflecting in his tortured eyes.
She averted her gaze from the black tattoo, not knowing what to say.
"Can we get back to Transfiguration?" he asked, putting the subject to rest. He covered the mark on his forearm and started casting spells on the other objects.
Hermione stayed silent, making sure he was doing things correctly, all the while thinking about what had just happened.
"Want to know what your problem is?" she finally said, coming to a conclusion.
"I don't recall asking for a diagnosis." He was annoyed.
"You keep all of your emotions to yourself, never letting anyone know how you feel, what's going on inside your head," Hermione began. Draco opened his mouth to contradict her but she kept going. "Telling someone that you hate them doesn't count. I meant that you don't say when you're upset or worried or even happy, although I can't say you've ever been truly happy."
"You learn to control your emotions when the Dark Lord is constantly trying to read your mind. Any thought of doubt or discontent with his plans could have you destroyed." He spoke as if he half expected Voldemort to burst through the door and take his life.
"I wouldn't know how that feels. I'm not the Death Eater, here," Hermione shrugged, trying to imagine the paranoia.
"You make it seem like I wanted this!" Draco's voice rose. "I didn't chose this life for myself! Let's see you try to say 'no' to the Dark Lord. I'm sure he'd be thrilled."
"I'd rather die than become one of his servants," Hermione spoke bravely, displaying the true Gryffindor she was.
"I felt like I did die when this happened. You have no idea how it feels- what it's like having your every move watched. One mistake and he'll stop your heart in a fraction of a second." Draco grew tense.
"You didn't kill Dumbledore. Snape did. Isn't that a mistake? And you're still alive," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. This was the longest conversation she had held with Draco without him making a joke about her. The subject had nothing to do with Transfiguration, but she was getting to know how his mind worked, which is what she had tried to do two nights ago.
"When Snape and I apparated after Potter followed us, he went to the Dark Lord. I didn't follow him. I apparated to a forest, found a small cave, and hid there until your werewolf friend stumbled upon me. That's how I ended up here, safe and and alive." His eyes pierced Hermione's, wondering what she was thinking. "I'll let you know what's happening inside my head. I'll show you the emotions that I've been locking away. Do you want to hear the answer to your question?"
"Which question?" Hermione blinked in confusion.
"Why do I not try in class or why did I skip classes entirely?" Draco restated the question from their first lesson, the one he had refused to respond to. Hermione easily remembered her words and nodded for him to continue. "I see no point in trying. I work hard, I take the N.E.W.T. exams and then what? The moment I leave this school, I'll be hunted down and killed. If the other Death Eaters don't find me, I have nowhere to go. I'll die with or without their help. Staying here is only prolonging my life by a year. After that, I'm gone."
"If you're so sure that you're going to die, what's your reason for staying here?" Hermione argued, finding his thought process flawed.
Draco looked as if he were in agony, his voice starting to strain. "Do you think I want to die? I'd do anything to have a normal, long-lasting life! But I can't! I was born to uphold my father's place as one of the Dark Lord's most trusted Death Eaters. When your life is on the line, you either beg for forgiveness and suck up to the darkest wizard of all time or you run. I'm not going to beg to live when being a Death Eater is barely living at all. I don't want anything to do with that."
"Is this why you don't talk to Crabbe and Goyle anymore? Because they're on the wrong side?" Hermione noticed how miserable he appeared.
"There is no wrong or right side for me. I'm too corrupted to turn around but I won't go back to being a Death Eater." He paused to accept this idea. It had only just occurred to him how true it was. Neither side in the war would take him back after what he had failed to do last June and the thought haunted him. "You have no idea what a horrible position I'm in right now. I stay awake night after night staring into the dark, trying to figure out what to do. Have you noticed my appearance? I haven't slept properly in months. I feel sick all the time. I can barely eat. There's nothing that can help me." He bent over, placing his head in his hands, trying to relax.
He had convinced himself that all hope in the world for himself was lost. Hermione knew from the pained expression on his worn out face that he had finally admitted defeat. Draco Malfoy had given up.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, causing him to lift his head slightly.
"Are you? Or is it just 'human nature' to say that?" He grumbled, analyzing her response.
"No, I really am sorry. I never knew you could be like this. I always thought you simply wanted to be wretched and there was no reason behind it," Hermione admitted.
The corners of Draco's mouth lifted into the faintest of smiles. He didn't appear as skeletal and unhealthy. In fact, Hermione thought he actually looked like a decent person for once. "Was that open enough for you?" he asked stubbornly.
"Yes, it was." Hermione smiled this time. "Do you feel any better, now?"
"Slightly. It was nice to be able to tell someone all of that. I feel like I've been holding it in forever," Draco told her and then realized whom he was talking to. "Could you... I'd prefer you didn't tell Potter or Weasley any of this."
"I won't. You can trust me," Hermione said, not sure what had caused this sudden change between them. She checked the time after losing track of it. "It's after eight. We should leave."
"Let's actually do some magic next class." Draco helped Hermione clean up the classroom. She nodded in agreement.
"I'll see you Monday night," Hermione politely said goodbye as they exited together.
"'Bye." He started in the opposite direction, "Oh, and Granger?" He stopped to face her.
"Yes?" Hermione turned.
"This doesn't change the fact that I strongly dislike you," Draco smirked.
"Good, because I still think you're a disgusting Slytherin. You're just not as careless as I thought." And Hermione returned the smug look on Draco's face with her own.