SORRY! Forgive me, please? I had such bad writers block and typed this up as soon as I got inspired. Hope you enjoy.
There is a Poll up now on my profile for the name change. Please vote as many times as you'd like. Next chapter the title will be changed.
There may be a few mistakes because it isn't Beta read. Sorry!
Now, without any further ado:
Enjoy!
I stared at the fire and thought of everything that had just happened. My hands moved unconsciously to my waist where Hermione held me on my broomstick. I do not know why I did it, or how long I stayed in that position on our lounge lost in my own thoughts. Nevertheless, my thoughts were extracted when I heard a large crash from upstairs. I had jumped from the lounge and bounded upstairs. I could hear sobbing from the bathroom. I walked over, slowly, cautiously. I pushed open the door and was shocked.
Hermione was on the ground, surrounded by broken glass shards from the mirror. She was just sitting there, crying, as quiet as she wanted to be I could still hear her. What made my blood freeze was when I bent down to sit next to her; in her right hand, she held a particularly long and sharp glass shard.
"Hermione?" I asked, banishing the glass shards around us. "Hermione, are you okay?"
I sat next to her and she turned to look at me, tears streaming down her face.
"You have no idea how many times I've looked in the mirror and not recognised myself. All the pieces," she sobbed, "they just don't match up."
She held the piece of glass up in front of her face, moving it around, and then she dropped it on the ground, startling me. "Draco, I don't recognise myself! No matter how many times I look in a mirror and from whatever angle I still look like a stranger. I think I'm going insane," she added sadly, tears still rolling down her face.
I looked at her sadly, not knowing what to say, and just wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. She just clung to me as if a little lost child clung to their favourite teddy bear. She didn't sob and weep but I could feel my shirt getting damper from her tears that were sliding down silently down her face. I held onto her for as long as she needed. She did not say anything, or squirm and wriggle as if she was uncomfortable. Soon I realised that her breath had slowed and her arms gone a little limp.
She had fallen asleep.
I sighed heavily and carefully picked her up. I walked slowly towards her room.
"Aphrodite?" I asked towards the blank door. Aphrodite revealed herself almost instantly.
"Oh, my. What happened?"
"She fell asleep. She's exhausted," I explain, walking through the portrait door that Aphrodite had just opened.
I sighed as I looked around. Her room was still black. I walked over and placed her on her bed. She wriggled as if to get comfortable, then I conjured a blanket and placed it over her.
She looked so… happy, as if she didn't have a care in the world. Maybe that's why we dream. Maybe it's because in our dreams, we can forget our problems and we can be whoever we want to be. We can do what ever we want to do and no one can stop us.
I sighed, and started standing up to leave when I stopped. I wanted to be here when she woke up. Instead, I just pulled up her desk chair and faced it towards her bed. I sat down and stretched my legs.
After a while, I had to resort to doing something. I raided her personal bookshelf and noticed we had similar tastes. I grabbed a book and just sat down and relaxed. I was almost half way through when I noticed Hermione was stirring. She murmured softly before her eyes fluttered open.
"Draco!" she said surprised, "you're still here."
"Of course," I replied, marking my place in the book.
"How did you get in?" she asked, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
"Aphrodite let me in," I explained, "She saw you were asleep."
"Oh, so you met her have you," she asked.
"Yeah."
"Oh," she said softly.
Okay, this is an awkward silence.
"Hey, get up. Let's go downstairs," I said, breaking the ice.
I stood up and held out my hand.
"Why?"
"Hermione, look around you, this room is depressing." I gestured to the black painted room. She looked uncomfortable.
"I like it here," she mumbled.
"Why?"
"I feel safe here," she whispered, tears making her eyes shine.
"You'll be safe with me," I promised.
"Okay," she said uncertainly. I'll meet you downstairs. I'll just get changed."
I nodded politely and left. I didn't relise she was trying to get rid of me until much later. It had been over twenty minutes and she still didn't grace the room with her presence. Therefore, I took another visit to her room.
Aphrodite appeared just as I stood in front of Hermione's door.
"What's taking her so long?" I asked.
"Nothing, she's not coming out. She's requested for me to not let you in," Aphrodite replied.
"What? Why?" I demanded.
"She's just lost and confused," she tried to explain.
"I'm trying to help her!" I replied exasperatedly.
"Maybe she doesn't need help," she snapped back.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked outraged. "Of course she needs help!"
"Not from you!" She retorted.
"Who else does she have?" I asked frustrated. Just open the damned door!
"She has her friends."
"That's a lie and you know it! Her friends wouldn't notice if it was in the Daily Prophet!" I yelled at her accusingly.
"Maybe they just don't want to let anyone know what they know," she replied. However, she was losing the battle.
"This is ridiculous! I'm not going to stand here arguing with you," I replied angrily.
"Fine, I need some peace and quiet anyway."
I stood there a moment and then turned on my heels and stormed downstairs.
Aphrodite had changed completely, and not for the better. She was ignoring what was in front of her.
I paced the room angrily before deciding on taking action. Hermione wanted help. Well she was going to get it.
I left the dorm and started heading towards the Great hall. They should be awake. I strode through the doors and spotted them immediately. The jet black and red hair wasn't hard to miss. I strode up to them and cleared my thought. They turned and looked at me.
"Can I help you Malfoy?" Weasley asked annoyed, obviously upset that I had disturbed his breakfast.
"It's not me you need to help," I replied, my Slytherin faced on.
"Excuse me?" Potter asked. Salazar! They were much stupider than they looked.
"Really, Potter. Learn to listen," I said rolling my eyes.
"Malfoy, piss off!" said Weasel-Bee.
"Not until you listen to me!" I replied hotly.
"Okay, speak," Scar-Head, said reasonably.
I was going to go straight to the point.
"Have you noticed any differences with Granger? You know, maybe she's always quiet, never laughing. Anything like that?" I asked. They looked at me like I had gone mad.
"No. Why?" Potter asked. Salazar Slytherin! He needed better glasses.
"Okay. I'm going to be very blunt, and she just may kill me for it. Granger is depressed, chronically."
"What?" Weasley asked stupidly.
"Granger is depressed. You know, sad and angry. Feels worthless, wants to die? Any of that ringing a bell?" I explain, totally wasting my time, and the Weasel turns red. "She needs your help."
"She can't be depressed," Potter, said shaking his head.
"No? Then tell me why she changed her whole room décor black. Tell me, Potter, why she's been crying everyday after classes. Tell me," I said menacingly, "why I found her this morning on the Astronomy roof, far too close to the edge. Tell me why she cried into my chest because she felt worthless!"
"You're lying," Weasley said, still choosing not to believe me.
I yelled furiously before storming out of the Hall. I could feel the eyes of everyone on my back but I ignored them.
Potter and Weasley wanted proof? Well they were going to get it. I raced back to my dorm and climbed up the stairs, two at a time. I found all the proof that I needed and headed back to the Great Hall. I dropped it on their table.
They jumped.
"What are you doing with 'Mione's diary?" Ron squeaked.
"It's only a copy. I dare you to read one of the most recent entries. Read all of it…if you can," I added.
Potter looked hasty, as if he was afraid of what he would find. He should be afraid.
They turned to the entry from the start of term, where it all began. Potter must read faster because he looked green first, but then again, Weasley is a Weasley so I suppose I wouldn't be able to notice anyway. I wouldn't be able to see past his ugly freckled face.
Salazar, I'm such an arse!
Potter was speechless…as he should be.
"You didn't notice," I said angrily through gritted teeth.
"W-where is she?" he asked softly, stammering.
"In her room, she won't let me in," I explained annoyed. Seriously, I was trying to help her.
"Why would she let you in?" Weasel said accusingly.
"Why shouldn't she? I've been the one who had seen it," I snapped back heatedly.
"Stop fighting! We have to help her," Potter said, interrupting us.
"Well, Potter, I believe you're finally making sense for once," I replied, rolling my eyes.
He sneered at me before getting up.
"She doesn't know you have this does she?" He asked, tapping Hermione's' diary.
"No, and I want it to stay that way, thank you very much. She doesn't know that I know she cuts. Let's just keep this between us," I replied.
"Why shouldn't tell her?" Weasley asked. He definitely had issues.
"Ron, stop. As much as I hate this situation, he's right. She'll be more upset if she knew," Potter said reasonably.
Wow, maybe he isn't the idiot I always thought he was.
The Weasel gave a non-committal grunt.
"Can you take us to her?" Potter asked. I nodded and turned to leave. Potter and Weasel-Bee got up too, Hermione's diary in their pockets.
"Follow me," I said walking out of the Great Hall. No doubt, the scene would have looked odd. Sev would be calling for me soon. Great, just another problem.
"I can't believe I've never been here," Weasley said as he walked through the portrait.
"You can't?" I asked mocking him, eyes-brows raised. He flushed red…well, red-der.
I showed them upstairs. Aphrodite gasped and her hand flew to her throat.
"What have you done?" She screeched.
"The right thing, Hermione needs her friends, so open up," I demanded.
"No! I'm not allowed too," She defended. Potter and Weasley shared bewildered looks.
I pulled out my wand and pointed it menacingly at her.
"Open up, or you'll be in a million pieces," I warned. Her faced flickered with fear.
"Oh, fine. I'll get you back for it later," she huffed and reluctantly swung opened. As I predicted, there were gasps from behind me. They obviously were eying the decoration.
I walked forward a small step.
"Hermione?" I asked into the dark room.
Had I done the right thing?
"Harry? Ron?" I heard a weak voice say.
This is the decisive moment.
I felt my heart beating so fast I felt that Potter and Weasley could hear it.
"Hey," Potter replied weakly. "Can we come in?"
"No."
Oh, damn. I hadn't spilled everything for nothing had I?
"Why not?" He pestered softly.
"I don't want you here," she answered softly.
"Hermione, it's okay. We can help you through this," Potter explained.
Weasley was just standing there like a gargoyle. How pathetic, can't even help his best friend in her time of need.
"You can't help me," I heard her reply meekly. Her voice made her sound so, so…defeated, as if she had lost all hope. I thought we were finally making progress.
"Hermione let us help you!" I said exasperatedly.
"Go away," she said weakly, but still forcefully. "No. Not unless you talk to us," Harry demanded softly.
Ronald stayed silent. Did he care at all? He looked very uncomfortable, as if he wanted to be anywhere but here.
"Then I hope you have fun waiting forever. I won't talk to you. You can't help me," she cried sorrowfully.
My plan failed. Potter failed to let her open up and now I felt like a complete loser, which is a rare occurrence as a Malfoy.
I pulled the still Gryffindor's away from the doorway and it swung shut. She wasn't going to talk anytime soon.
"Are you happy now?" Aphrodite asked grumpily. She had her arms crossed and was sitting on a bench.
"Not particularly, no," I replied annoyed.
"Well that worked," Potter said sarcastically.
"Least I tried! The stupid Weasel Bee didn't do anything!" I defended myself. "He just stood there looking like an idiot!" I pointed at the Weasel.
"Well what the hell was I supposed to say?" he asked going redder.
"I don't know! But you shouldn't have just stood there! She's your best friend! You're supposed to be helping her!" I yelled incredulously.
"And you're her enemy!"
"My point exactly! I'm not supposed to like her but here I am trying to help her!" I explained, positively fuming. Weasley looked flustered.
"Stop it!" Potter said grouchy. I stared at him. "This isn't helping her!"
He was right. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths.
Inhale. Exhale.
I opened my eyes and saw Potter looking at me.
"What?" I asked. Was there something on my face?
"Err. Nothing, I've just never seen this side of you before," he said shyly. My face darkened.
"Did you really think that I was a naturally pompous arsed jerk?" I asked stupidly.
"Well, umm, yeah," Potter said looking uncomfortable.
"This is stupid. Come and get me when she comes out. I'll leave you to finish your male bonding," Weasel said angrily, before storming back downstairs. My eyes followed him until he was out of sight. I jumped slightly at the sound of him slamming the door.
"What an arsehole," we said simultaneously. We smiled weakly at each other.
"Do you want to wait downstairs?"
"Sure," Potter said uncomfortably.
Therefore, Potter and I walked down the stairs, looked and acting civil. I think it must have been a record.
We each settled into an armchair, I in a green one, Potter in a red one.
We were only sitting for a few moments before he spoke.
"How long have you known?" I felt uneasy.
"We had a fight on the first night back. She sort of, how shall I put this? She started deteriorating after that. It wasn't until a few days after that I realised that she was mentally ill," I replied.
"So, it's your entire fault?" he accused slowly.
I made a face. "I suppose you could say that. I said some hurtful things to her. I regret that now," I said simply.
"You regret it?" He asked dumbfounded.
"Potter, teasing you and your friends is supposed to be harmless fun. I do not want her to kill herself. Then who would I compete against in class?" I added cheekily.
"What did you call her?" He asked weary on my answer.
"You do not want to know," I said sheepishly.
"That bad?"
"That bad."
He whistled. It made me feel worse.
We were silent for a while after that. It wasn't as awkward as it could be it was comfortable. Although I found the situation very strange, I was oddly comforted knowing that Potter knew as well. Now I wasn't the only one that could help her.
I leaned back in my chair and somehow found myself waking up later.
"Wha-?" I mumbled in an a very un-Malfoy way. Potter chuckled so he received one of my death stares. He shut his mouth faster than you could have said "Avada Kedavra."
"I'll be right back," I said mysteriously, giving Potter another evil look.
I hope that my hair wouldn't be too bad. I was glad I didn't snore! That would have been super embarrassing. I strode up the stairs and went straight to the bathroom. Okay, it wasn't too bad. However, it was a bit too messy to get the whole I-just-got-out-of-bed look. I tamed it but then decided to check for hex and jinxes just in case.
Potter had perfect opportunity to hex me. I cast the simple charm at myself and I glowed green, telling me that I was safe. I let out a breath.
I gave myself one more look in the mirror before descending back downstairs. Potter was reading a book and seems completely at ease.
"You read?" I asked surprises, talking up my seat again.
"Of course. You didn't think that I was just the wizard who 'defeated' Voldemort all those years ago and fought him almost every single year after would just sit around gloating about it?" he spoke looking up.
"No," I replied back snarky. "U thought that you sat around gloating while everyone else waited on you hand and foot." I smirk at him and he laughs sarcastically. "And then, of course, there are the days where you just lie in bed and wonder if the Dark Lord hadn't killed your parents, how different you life would have been. Then you lay there wallowing in you own self-pity. Then," I add on a happier note, "you get up and start your day like any other and gloat…again."
Potter stares wordlessly at me.
"I don't gloat," he replied, frowning.
"Sure," I replied sarcastically. Again, Potter's face turned hard.
"D you honestly think I wanted this life?" he asked annoyed.
"No, of course not, I was just joke--." He cut me off.
"No, I didn't want this life. Nevertheless, I have it anyway. For your information, Malfoy, I wake up everyday and wonder if it's the last time I will wake up. Because, for all I know Voldemort could come into Hogwarts and kill me, today. Dumbledore won't always be here! Voldemort will kill me. It might not be by his own hand, but he will…one day," he replied harshly.
"Potter, calm down," I said quietly.
"Don't tell me to calm down! You're not the one who has the most powerful Dark wizard after your head! You don't have the whole of the Wizarding world watching your every move just because Voldemort killed your parents, but not you. And because of that you have a scar on your face," he fumed.
"Your right. I don't know. I'm sorry," I said surrendering. The situation was getting out of hand. Potter stared angrily at me for a moment.
To be truthful, staring at his angry emerald eyes were scary. They had seen such destruction and murderous things that most Aurours would see in their career. It suddenly occurred to me that Potter should have been the one most likely to turn depressed; he had so much more weighing on his head.
Slowly, his eyes softened and he looked away.
"I'm sorry. I just hate when people think I have it all. I have nothing," he said softly.
"I know that keeping up appearances must be hard," I replied, understanding completely.
"Oh, yeah, really?" He asked snidely.
"You really don't think I want to be a Death Eater like my father do you? I asked cynically.
"Don't you?"
I pulled the sleeve of my left arm, showing my bare forearm.
"See that? No mark."
"Yeah, so?" Potter asked confused.
"My arm is blank, Potter. I intend for it to stay that way." I pulled my sleeve back down.
"So you don't follow Voldemort?"
"Potter, let me put this to you simply, a way that you can understand. I'm a Malfoy, therefore, a pureblood. I don't kneel to anyone, let alone to the feet of some crazed half-blood who wants to rid the world of Muggles and Muggle-borns and who wants to take over the world, it's barbaric," I explained bluntly.
"Right, so we've been the same side, how long?" Potter asked.
"Listen, Potter. Just because I don't follow, Voldemort doesn't mean I'm following a Muggle-loving Dumbledore. I don't think he's in his right mind either," I said smiling softly. Potter shares a weak smile.
"Then whose side are you on?"
"No ones. But if I had to fight for a side, it wouldn't be the Dark."
Potter looked genuinely surprised.
"So you're not evil?"
"Not."
Potter sighs heavily and slumps back in his chair.
"Do you know how many years Ron and I were convinced that you were evil?" he asked exasperatedly. I smiled sheepishly. "If something had happened we automatically thought it was you."
"Potter, let me give this to you straight. Just because I'm not into torturing Muggles, and evil, doesn't mean I'm a saint."
"Well if we knew you weren't evil it would have saved us a lot of hassle and hard-work in our Second year.
"Why?" I asked and Potter looked sheepish.
"Remember how there was a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, but no one knew it was actually a basilisk?"
"Ahh, yes. I also seem to recall Lockhart's Valentines Day gnomes. The one Mini-Weasley sent you were quite amazing," I replied chuckling, clasping my hands together.
Potter blushed, "Yes, well, anyway. Do you also remember how the wall said: 'Enemy of the heir, Beware.'?"
"Of course."
"And then when everyone saw it you said: 'You'll be next Mud bloods'?"
"Faintly," I grimaced. My mind was working in overdrive to figure out where this conversation was heading.
"Well, we thought the heir was you?"
Say what?
"'We' are being…?"
"Hermione, Ron and myself."
"Hermione?" I asked surprised.
"We proved that you weren't," he said quickly.
I eyed him suspiciously. "Oh yeah, how? For all you and I know I could be related to Slytherin."
"Still, but you weren't the heir of Slytherin…" He finished my mumbled something under his breath.
"Excuse me?"
"We made Polyjuice potion and Ron and I changed into Crabbe and Goyle and talked to you about it," he said uncomfortably.
Whoa. I defiantly wasn't expecting that! In second year? Hermione must have brewed it, Potter and Weasley would have blown each other up. I know how complicated that potion is.
"Polyjuice potion? How did you get the book? It would have been in the Restricted Section of the Library."
"Lockhart," he answered simply. Of course, he would have given Hermione anything she asked. Then something clicked.
"Hang on. What about Hermione? Why didn't she use the potion as well? I asked confused.
Potter grinned. "Do you remember her being in the Hospital Wing for a few weeks and everyone thought she had been Petrified?"
"Yeah," I said, still uncertain where this was going.
"She accidently put a cat's hair in the potion, not human hair," Potter said, stopping there, leaving me to figure it out. It clicked automatically.
"No!" I exclaimed, grinning like a maniac. "She transformed into a cat?"
"Yep. She had a tail and everything!" he said laughing. I burst out laughing and tried to imagine what she would have looked like.
"How is that possible?" I asked breathlessly.
"She mixed up Millicent Bulstrode's hair with her cat. She had gotten them off her robes at the Duelling Club Lockhart had," Potter explained and I started laughing again.
"She'd probably look better as a cat then as Millicent," I joke and Potter cracked another grin.
"What are you two laughing about?" I heard a soft voice ask from the stairwell.
I stood up quickly and turned around.
"Hermione," I breathed and strode towards her. I heard Potter get up from his chair as well.
Hermione looked over my shoulder and I saw her body tremble from the sight of Potter.
"Hey Herm," he said softly, looking at her. She threw herself at him, threw her arms around him, and cried softly into his chest.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"I'm the one who should be sorry," Potter, whispered back, holding her close. I didn't want to interrupt their little meeting so I didn't say anything.
"I should have told you about it. I should have told you so he could have been hurt, just like I was," she cried.
Whoa. What? That was totally unnecessary.
"Hey! I'm right here," I pointed out.
She detached herself from Potter and stared angrily at me. "Yeah, you are," she replied, wiping her tears away. It was only a moment later when her fist interacted with my cheek.
"Oww!" I exclaimed stumbling back.
He punch felt en times harder than Third Year.
"I hate you!" she spat at me furiously.
What!?
Hahaa. Another evil cliffy! Sorry, sorry, sorry!
But I had to do it.
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