Chapter 6
Hiding
She smiles
it doesn't reach her eyes
He notices
and wonders why
when she laughs
it has that hollow sound
he frowns and looks around
he wonders
How can so much beauty
have so much pain
how can one girl
have no hope
your friends don't notice
that your light is gone
as the dead look is covered
and you run and hide
-- Blood of the Sun
XXX
Hermione heard voices all around her, whispering, saying her name. She recognized them, but couldn't give them faces. She drifted away from semi-consciousness and fell into a dark abyss.
It had been three days and none of the professor's would tell Draco anything about Hermione. People had noticed her absence right away, even those two bone headed friends of hers. He walked over to his closet and pulled out a slivery cloak. He gave the cloak a grim smile before slipping it over his head. Anywhere the cloak touched his body, they both seemed to disappear. His bedroom door opened, and then the painting opened, and soon the infirmary opened. He slipped inside and walked to the back, where there was a small white sheeted enclosure. The cloak was taken off and he stood looking at the girl for a few moments. Seeing her like this gave him unwanted feelings, feelings that he couldn't understand and wasn't sure he wanted to understand. Hermione murmured lightly in her sleep and turned her head, her hair had moved away from her neck and he saw a few small scars, and one that was curved slightly under her shirt. He noticed the bottle beside her bed.
"Dreamless Sleep," He whispered to himself. Only his mother knew that he needed that at night. She sent him a constant supply so that he wouldn't have to go out and buy it for himself. His hand slipped toward the girl sleeping on the bed and brushed her hair from her face. He told himself to pull it back, but his body didn't want to obey. His hand moved to her lips, fingers gently tracing them before moving on, they traced her jaw, the column of her throat. As they reached the base of her neck, his finger came back to his side. There was a tiny frown on the girls face now.
"Don't hurt me," She whispered, so quietly he almost didn't hear her. Those feelings that he couldn't quite identify rose up within him again and he fought to push them down. He picked up the cloak and pulled it over his head before running to his rooms.
Hermione didn't know what was going on. She was asleep, she knew that, but even so. She seemed to be sitting in a field of flowers that was surrounded by a black void. All of a sudden it was all gone. There was someone there, someone just outside of her sight. Someone she could feel, she could sense. She felt safe all of a sudden.
"Don't hurt me," She whispered to what ever it was. The feeling left and the field was back, with the black void that seemed to stretch into eternity.
Draco whispered the password and the painting opened, allowing him to slip past. He walked up to his room and sat on his bed. A few moments later he decided to take a bath. He slipped inside the bathroom and ran the water before sliding in for a soak. His thoughts jumbled together in his head until he was completely confused. An hour or so later he climbed out and wrapped a towel around his hips. He stood and looked at Hermione's door. He moved forward through it. He glanced around and saw the open book sitting on her bed. He read the poem and looked at the rose. He flipped randomly to another page and dropped the book. On one side was himself, standing against a wall, sneer on his face, glaring eyes, and hair perfectly placed. On the other side was a poem
Do Not Point
You who so sits and points
your finger at everyone
but your own self are
the worst of offenders
the worst of all cheats
the worst of all liars
the worst of all misers
and the worst of all cretins
you preach a hate that
you yourself are such an
ignorantly large part of.
You who sits so high above
everyone else so that you
can feel as if you have
some sort of power over
them all, but in reality
you have no power but
that which you so disparage
of those who might be strong enough
to fight you for your empty
title but are too wise to
really want it for themselves.
You who wags an ill favored
tongue only to spread the
dissent that you alone believe
to be the keeping of your
simplistic throne are naught
worth a single thing to those
that you look on with such
disgust, those self same people
who pretend not to know what
you mean when you try to poison
their minds to what you want
You who would rape an
innocent mind are more
foul than anything you have
the audacity to curl your
overly indulged upper lip
at in your narrow minded
disgust over the state of
his clothes and the sweat
that he pays to make you
as pampered and spoiled as
you have been all your life.
So turn that accusing digit
back towards your own chest
and pause for a moment in thought
Climb down off that self
raised dais to look at the truth
that is the people all around you
belt the tongue that poisons
the ever darkening soul inside
your chest with it's naïveté
Open your mind and look at yourself
you are the evil to be purged
(Damia - "This poem belongs to Stevie Williams, one of the best people you could ever meet")
Draco went back to his room and thought for the first time about the way he had treated mud-bloods, no, muggle born witches and wizards. He had no doubt in his mind that the poem was directed at himself. Not with a picture like that beside it.
"She thinks I'm evil," He said out loud, sort of trance like.
"Sounds lovely dear," His mirror murmured sleepily. What had he ever done that was so horrible that she thought he was evil? Sure he had called her mud-blood and other names, and maybe he had even done a few nasty things other than that, like throwing curses around. Though she had to admit that the curse he had thrown 5th year that made her hair pin straight wasn't too bad at all. She looked much better with straight hair as opposed to the bush she had originally. Then again she might have decided, like everyone else in the school, that he would follow his father into the ranks of Death Eaters. As if.
Of course maybe she meant Evil as an example of sorts. Maybe she thought that he thought that Mud-bloods were evil. He didn't of course, but still, that would explain things. If she thought that he thought mud-bloods were evil, then that meant that she thought that he and people with like thoughts ought to die. No, not Granger. His thoughts -if he thought the way she thought he thought- were the evil to be purged, that had to be it. He was happier now that he had an idea of what she thought of him.
Hermione opened her eyes and was met with blinding white. Crisp clean and utterly disgusting white. She closed her eyes immediately.
"Now now Miss Granger, you really do need to get up at some point," Came a sad voice from her left. She opened her eyes and looked up at Madame Pomfrey.
"How long have I been asleep?" Hermione asked tiredly.
"Five days," She answered shortly.
"You hate me for what I did, don't you?" She asked the older woman.
"No, I hate the people that drove you to it," Pomfrey told her sternly. Hermione look her in the eye unblinkingly.
"When does the speech come?" Hermione asked.
"Speech?" The nurse looked surprised.
"You know, the one about life being grand and not having enough time as it is so there isn't any point to ending it early," the younger girl answered monotonously.
"I'm not about to give you any such speech, that's for your head of house," The older woman said with a smile.
"So what do you get to do?" Hermione asked.
"I get to warn you what happens if you try it again," She answered lightly.
"And?" Hermione asked expectantly.
"And you go to St. Mungo's for a few weeks . . . maybe longer if you actually are out of your mind," She sounded as if she thought Hermione completely sane.
"So you don't hate me?" Hermione asked, sounding relieved.
"No," The nurse answered.
"Does Dumbledore hate me?" Hermione asked.
"No," The nurse answered. Hermione relaxed a bit more before tensing up again.
"Is the entire school talking about it?" She sounded a little scared at that thought.
"No. Only the professor's, you, me, and Draco Malfoy know what happened. Young Master Malfoy has had the consequences of spreading disgusting rumors told to him and he isn't about to tell anyone. It is up to you as to what happens next," Madame Pomfrey told her seriously.
"I know my peers. As soon as potions was over everyone in that class went out and told the other houses. By dinner everyone in the school knew that I had run out of the class and didn't show up for any others. Nor have I been seen by anyone for the past five days. They are making up stories and spreading them around each other. Who knows, some may even have hit on the truth. They have probably been hounding Harry and Ron, as well as Draco because he is my roommate and partner. I think you should have just let Malfoy tell everyone. It would have made things much simpler," Hermione told the woman.
"But I would hate to have to send Miss Stormwing to Azkaban for murdering such promising young students," Came a beloved voice. She hadn't heard Dumbledore walk in, but he was always appearing out of nowhere.
"Why would she kill Malfoy and his cronies?" Hermione asked.
"You misunderstand, she would kill Harry and Ron for not realizing that there was something wrong. You don't really want that to happen before you tell her yourself, do you?" The old man asked her as he sat down in a chair that he conjured up for himself.
"Why would I tell her?" Hermione asked passively.
"She will drive you mad with questions if you don't," He answered with a grin.
"If I tell her I will have to tell Harry and Ron, and if I tell them, they will tell Ginny, and when Ginny finds out so will the whole bloody school. After every student here knows what happened they will be owling their parents and their parents will demand that I be sent to St. Mungo's until I am mentally stable. Now I'm pretty sure you already realize this and all, but no teenager is mentally stable, especially not a female. With my luck as soon as I was sent my period would start and I would be threatening bodily harm on every male in my presence. Now do you really think that I should tell anyone?" Hermione demanded. Dumbledore just continued to look at her with both eyebrows raised.
"How about if I make an announcement at dinner that you had an unfortunate accident after having a trying day and are on your way to a full recovery," He asked her after a few moments.
"That sounds fine," She told him.
"You really will have to tell her sometime," The old man told her before leaving the room to allow Poppy to give her charge potions.
XXX
That night at Dinner Professor Dumbledore stood up to make a speech.
"Many of you have been wondering where our head girl has been for the past few days. I would like to tell you now that she had an unfortunate accident," He paused as people gasped in horror and whispering started. "She is now on her way to a full recovery, but will still not be in classes for at least a week. She would also like me to tell you all that she is bored out of her skull and would like someone to bring her homework," That brought laughs from anyone that knew her. She was always wanting homework. "She is in the hospital wing for anyone that would like to see her," With that he clapped his hands and sat down.
"Some accident," Ginny commented.
"How come they didn't tell me and Harry about it?" Ron asked while stuffing his mouth.
"It had to of been bad if she's only just now allowed to have visitors," Ginny commented.
"She's going to need a bushel of chocolate frogs," Jan said with a smile.
"And Berty Botts," Karen added.
"She's always had a thing for Sugar Quills," commented Neville. They continued to talk about what they should send the girl.
"Well, I hope she'll be ready for the project we're doing," Stephanie told those sitting closest to her.
"You still haven't told us about this project Stephanie," Commented another girl.
"And I'm not going to now. I told you, it's a secret," She told the girl.
"You're as bad as your boyfriend for keeping secrets," Commented a boy.
"Fred is wonderful at keeping secrets, so is George for that matter. They can't help it if they have to tell each other. If you were as close as them you would do the same thing," Stephanie told them.
"I suppose we should send her cards," Commented a fifth year prefect.
"I'm owling Fred and letting him know what's going on. She'll have all sorts of things to do then," Stephanie said with a wicked grin. She flipped her hair behind her back and stood up.
"Quidditch practice," commented her captain. She smiled.
"I know, you can't do anything without your star beater. I'll be there in a shake," she strode out of the hall with a smile on her face.
Again at midnight Draco pulled on his invisibility cloak and traveled to the infirmary. He noted that now there were all sorts of things around her on the tables, cards, candy, books. He watched her as she breathed, in and out, in and out. He didn't know how long he stood there, watching, not thinking, just taking her in. He gently moved the hair off of her forehead before leaving.
Hermione woke up the next morning to flowers and gifts. She was glad to see that her homework was on the table beside her. She sat up in bed and pushed her hair out of her face as she looked at everything. Madame Pomfrey came in with a tray.
"Here's your breakfast, eat all of it. People keep coming through asking when they will be allowed to visit you. Tell me when you're ready and I'll do a quick cleanup spell so you look nice and neat," The nurse bustled out of Hermione's little enclosed space and off to hassle the other patients. Hermione drank her orange juice and ate her french toast. As soon as she was done her tray disappeared and the nurse was at her side.
"Are you ready for a few guests?" She asked the girl.
"No, but I'll see them anyhow," Hermione answered.
"Hertosimis," Madame Pomfrey said. The clothes that Hermione was wearing were now unwrinkled and her hair was in two neat braids that hung almost to her waist. The nurse was gone again in a moment and in walked Harry and Ron.
"Hello 'Mione," Ron said with a smile. He sat on the edge of her bed.
"Hello boys, it's been ghastly in here," Hermione told them with a sigh.
"Of course it has, you aren't allowed to do anything fun," Harry said with a grin.
"You would know, you're in here enough," She told him.
"What happened?" Ron asked. Harry elbowed his friend in the ribs before shaking his head.
"I don't really remember. I think I fell in the bathroom and hit my head, I didn't wake up until yesterday. I've ben sort of out of it," She told them smoothly.
"You fell?" Harry said, looking slightly relieved.
"What did you think happened," Hermione asked him calmly.
"I didn't know what happened. We were worried 'Mione, we were ready to go attack Dumbledore to get the information about you," Ron answered.
"Really?" She asked quietly. Harry took one of her hands.
"Hermione, I know we're not always the best of people, especially to you. We tend to take you for granted, and we both miss the obvious things quite often. The reason you are our best girl friend though, is because we love you. You're like a sister to us, it feels like we're family. The way you've been since your parents died . . . well it's almost like someone's been torturing you and we can't stop it from happening. It's like you wont let us stop it or even help you stop it. You don't smile, you don't laugh, you don't tell us how stupid we are, you don't yell at Malfoy, you don't show off in transfiguration, and you don't hug us or anyone else. You changed, and everyone can see it. We are worried even if it seems like we aren't," Harry told her.
"Boys, classes start in six minutes, I suggest you go now," Madame Pomfrey told them as she peaked through the curtain.
"I'll tell you what's been going on tonight, ok?" She told them.
"We'll be here," They told her with smiles on their faces.
XXX
Damia - "Whoa, another chapter, and so soon,"
Solatina - "I don't like orange juice,"
Wren - "Who cares?"
Solatina - "Hey!! You're supposed to be the nice one,"
Damia - "I would like more reviews, thank you for reading, and the same old stuff applies, I own nothing except Stephanie,"
Solatina - "I don't think Stevie's going to like you saying that you own her,"
Wren - " She meant the character smart one,"
Solatina - "You're starting to creep me out,"