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7 - By the Light of the Moon
Hermione Granger was completely and utterly ignoring Draco Malfoy. The problem was he didn't seem to realize this. She was avoiding him whenever she could. She would leave a room when he entered. She would walk right past him without as much as a hello. He would just say hello to her anyway. When she would walk out of a room, he would follow. He was oblivious to her palpable contempt. She could feel it, why couldn't he? Harry was set to leave again in two days. Lupin was leaving as well. That would leave just her and Draco. She was not overjoyed by that thought.
Harry could feel the tension. She was avoiding him as well, and he seemed to understand that fact, but he really couldn't ask her the reason why. That morning, she was upstairs; waiting for someone to bring up her breakfast, but it never came. By lunch, when she was hungry, and she was still waiting for food to come up, she was shocked when once again no food came to her. She decided that she must be on a forced hunger strike to which no one bothered to tell her. By tea time, when there was no earl grey or green tea (her favourites) and no biscuits or sandwiches, she decided enough was enough.
She hadn't needed the walker for days. The healer told her she was fine and could get around just as she always had, if not even better, but that hadn't stopped the men at 12 Grimmauld Place from continuing to deliver her meals to her room, until today. She stayed mostly in her room, only occasionally going to the sitting room or the library, as she really had nowhere she wanted to go, at least not in this godforsaken house. However, since she was now hungry, she headed toward the kitchen.
She made her way down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen. She saw all three men sitting at the table having their afternoon tea. She didn't say hello, since she was still ignoring them, as she put the kettle on to boil. She stood with her back to them and Harry spoke first, "Hermione, do you need any help over there?"
When she didn't turn around and answer, Draco said, "Hasn't anyone told you, Potter. She's avoiding us. She has been for days. Where have you been?" Then he stood up and leaned against the counter, right next to her, but continued to talk to Harry. "I told you that she would eventually have to come down stairs to eat. You see, she misses a few meals and her convictions go right out the window."
Hermione took her teacup, which she had just filled with hot water, and threw it hard on the floor. The hot water splashed on Draco's leg and her legs. He yelped in pain, but she tried to be stoic and didn't let on how much it hurt her.
Harry and Lupin both ran up to help, but Draco put out his hand to stop them. "If she got burnt, she deserves it." Then he turned to Hermione and said, "Clean up your mess. We aren't here to wait on you." He took out his wand, healed his own burns, and then told the men to leave her alone. Lupin and Harry both walked upstairs. Draco turned to leave as well. Hermione took her wand, healed the burns on her legs, and then bent down the best she could and picked up the bigger pieces of broken ceramic, and cleaned up the rest with her wand. She hadn't realized that Draco was still in the doorway, watching her every move. She made another cup of tea, and heard him say, "There's a big piece of broken teacup you missed, over there by the sink. Are you just going to leave it there?" She looked up at him, shocked since she thought she was alone, and then she threw the new teacup with hot water at him. It splattered everywhere, but he thankfully was not burnt this time.
He walked up to her and said, "Clean that up!"
She stood nose to nose to him and said, "I don't acknowledge your right over me, so you can't tell me what to do. Not as long as I am a hostage here. Let me go home!"
He took her arm in his hand and squeezed hard and said, "Listen you spoiled brat, no one here is going to coddle you any longer. Clean up your mess, now."
Hermione put her hand over his, which was still holding tight to her arm, and said, "No, you listen you overgrown, barbaric monkey's arse, as long as I am prisoner here, I will not cooperate. You clean up the mess." She actually tried to walk past him, but he took her by her hair and yanked it very hard.
When he let it go she turned around and hit him on the chest with her fist. It didn't even faze him. "What is your game?" she asked, "Is this how you're going to show me how much you love me? Is this how you're going to heal my soul? You're a joke! Remind me to buy you a book on psychology someday." She pushed him as hard as she could and again tried to walk away. He picked her up by her waist and sat her on the counter top.
"Draco, I can't jump down from here because of my leg, you stupid prat. So, help me down," she yelled.
"You can just stay there until I clean the mess you made. You know, Granger, I think it's time you learn to do things on your own, but you can just stay there until you can act like a human being." He started to clean up the new mess with his wand. She looked at him with a glare, and looked around for anything on the counter that she could throw at him. She picked up the tin with the sugar in it, and when he came over close enough to her, she dumped the entire tin of sugar over his head.
The next two things happened in such a whirlwind of movement, that neither knew exactly what was happening. Draco picked her up off the counter, to which she grabbed the teakettle and hit him upside the head. He yelled in pain and dropped her to the ground, which was never his intention. Now she yelled in pain, and as he looked down at her with genuine concern, she grabbed his ankle and pulled with all her might and he landed in a thump right beside her on the floor. Next, she tried to get her wand, but he was wrestling her for it. They were rolling around on the floor, and the water from the kettle mixed with the sugar from the tin, was now coating both of them with a sweet, sticky mess.
He got her on her back, and straddled her hips. He took her wand, threw it over his shoulder, and then he reached up to the closest thing he could reach for on the counter, which was a pitcher of cream, and he dumped it on her head. He took both her arms, pinned them above her head with one hand, and with the other hand he held her face, under her chin, to keep her still.
Hermione was covered in water, sugar and cream. He was covered in sugar and water. They were both out of breath. Hermione had tears come to her eyes. He knew if she cried he would feel worse about assaulting her than he already felt. He just wanted her to clean up her tea. He never meant for it to go this far. She turned her head to the side, the most she could do since he still had her chin, to avoid his stare, and said, "Please get off me, you've really hurt me." She started to cry harder.
He let go of her arms, but remained straddled over her waist. She put her hands up to his body and tried to push him off. He put both her wrist in his hands, and again pressed them to the cold stone floor and leaned down and with his face pressed against her face, he said, "I'm never giving up on you." Then he sat back up on her and said louder, "I'm doing the best I can, and the only thing I know how to do. If you have any suggestions on how I can get you out of your catatonic state, then I'm open and willing to listen."
"Get off me," she replied, but it was really a plea.
He got off her and lay back on his back, sticky, wet and at his wits end.
Hermione turned to look at him and said, "You'll have to help me up. Please."
"Since you said please, I will," he said without remorse for his earlier treatment of her. He stood up and lifted her up as well. "Did I really hurt you? Is your hip and leg okay?" he asked. She ignored him and started upstairs, still as hungry as she was when she came down, but now wet and sticky as well.
Several hours had passed. Hermione didn't come down and join them for dinner. Both Harry and Lupin wanted to take her up a tray, seeing that she hadn't eaten all day, but Draco insisted that they leave her be. She would come down and eat something when she was ready. After dinner, Draco found her sitting, by the light of the moon, on the same Windsor chair in his room, by his window. Why did she like his room so much, if she pretended that she didn't even like him any longer? He shut his door and thought, 'she's in my room, without my permission, so I'll just ignore her.' He undressed completely, and then walked nude out of his room to get a shower.
He came back a few minutes later, wrapped in a towel, and dripping water. It would appear she had already bathed as well. He hadn't noticed it when he came in the room the first time, but now he could tell her hair was wet, and she was wrapped in a robe. She seemed to be taking another bath, as she was now bathed in the moonlight. The silver light from the apparent full moon gave an ethereal glow about her. He turned from her, dropped his towel, and put on some jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He sat on the bed, looked out the window and said, "What's so interesting out there that has your attention?" No answer. "Gone back to ignoring me, aye?" he asked. "No bother," he lay back against his pillows on his bed, and stared up at the ceiling
Hermione unexpectedly started talking; to which Draco found himself holding his breath, taking in every single word. She said, "Sometimes, I find that I have trouble remember what my parents looked like. I can look at their pictures, and they just look like pictures, they don't look like them. Sometimes I'm afraid I will totally forget them. I already can't remember what their voices sounded like. I can't recall what their laughter sounded like. Why can't I remember?" She turned to look at him, and he was staring right back. He didn't try to answer her question, because he knew it was metaphorical.
She turned back toward the window and she added, "I've tried for so long to not think about what they went through that night, but now that's all I seem to think about. I dream about it. I imagine what they saw, and what they went through. It tears me up inside to know how scared they must have been at the end. Did they wonder if I was safe? Was their last thoughts about me?" She started to cry. It seemed that was all she did these days.
"First, they had to be told that their only child was tortured and left for dead by Death Eaters, then when they leave her bedside, still sick with worry over her, they're murdered by perhaps some of the same Death Eaters, while they thought they were safe at home in their own beds. It's not fair, Draco. They didn't do anything wrong. Why did they have to die?" He rushed to her and he dropped to his knees in front of her.
"No one deserves to die that way, Granger. You didn't deserve what happened to you, and they didn't deserve what happened to them. This is a mean, cruel world, and many unfair things happen. Bad things happen to good people. No one knows why, it just does." He began to stroke her wet hair. She fell into his open arms. Maybe she was ready to receive the comfort that he had to offer, or maybe she didn't even realize he was there. Whichever one was the truth, one single truth remained; Hermione needed Draco, because no matter how much she pretended and no matter how much she lied, she still needed love. Everyone needed love.
He picked her up from the chair and put her cold, wet and now trembling body next to his on the bed. He pulled the covers over both of them. She stayed wrapped in his arms, bathed by the moonlight, until the moonlight left the sky and the morning came to them, welcomed once more.
