Chapter Seven: Rooftop Conversations
Part 1: For reasons he didn't understand
After overhearing Granger's last two muffled words, Draco knew that he had to hide quickly. Since there was no time for anything fancy, he settled for a poorly executed Disillusionment Charm that blended him into the white walls just as the door to room 211 was thrown open haphazardly. A furious wizard Harry Potter shot out and stalked past him.
He was so irate that he hadn't noticed that the walls outside of the room had looked slightly different-and there was a random pair of expensive black shoes awkwardly positioned on the floor; one firmly on the floor, the other raised on the wall.
For the ignorance and overall stupidity of Saint Potter, Draco was thankful. For what Potter said about his mother and best friend, the git was lucky that he hadn't hexed him - it took him everything in his power not to. The door slammed rather loudly behind him, and less than thirty seconds later it opened again. A hobbling Granger in hospital issued garments (white pants and a white button top...and hideous orange socks his mother knitted up for her using a charm) shot out the room in the opposite direction, audibly crying.
Despite everything that Draco had heard, and despite knowing the truth about what she had done to save Pansy, he still was torn between doing what was proper and what was painless.
Proper: chase her down and tell her that he appreciated how she had defended his mother. Oh, and thank her for saving Pansy.
That would be the right choice.
Painless: pretend that nothing had ever happened, and that he had never heard a thing.
This would be the easy choice, the wrong choice.
In the end the proper choice had won, but only by a whisker.
Damn him for having a conscience.
After placing a better Disillusionment Charm on himself, one that hid his shoes, Draco followed the witch, making sure that he kept ample distance. For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy felt like a deranged stalker. He wondered just when his life had hit that particular new low.
It was everyone's fault, he concluded.
Why he was even in St. Mungo's was his father's fault.
Father had had another meltdown in the middle of the night and tried to throw himself down a flight of steps. A house elf had stopped him by levitating his body. The act alone had earned him a few days in his private suite at St. Mungo's where he paced miserably and talked to veagles when he wasn't doped up on potions.
After the meltdown, he had taken the day off and stayed with his upset mother, who tended to her husband until he fell into a troubled slumber at daybreak. Instead of resting like a normal person, she had quickly run to check on Granger because: "Yesterday was long for her and I just want to see how she's doing."
Why he had stood outside Granger's room for fifteen minutes while she argued with Potter was Pansy's fault.
"I'm going to be out of town for a few days...promise me that you'll check on her." "Blaise and Mother sit with her everyday." "Just check on her...please."
He couldn't deny her.
After seeing her worst memory firsthand, he really hadn't known what to say, so he hadn't said anything, at all. The memory replayed in his mind for three days straight. It had made him violently ill on quite a few occasions, and still he said nothing. Seeing such a strong person like Pansy Parkinson, who had lost her entire family, having her virginity savagely taken from her as well-he groaned softly.
It was a miracle that she had even turned out as normal as she-well, that wasn't exactly the truth. She had suffered, privately and publicly. She had teetered over the ledge of sanity for a long time after she had returned from Australia. Draco remembered when Pansy had snapped. He remembered a highly destructive and hedonistic Pansy, who went on rampage after rampage, trying to erase something out of her life. He remembered an angry Pansy who had destroyed everything that had anything to do with her mother. Back then, he didn't understand her behavior, but now-now it all made sense. She was simply transferring the anger she harbored from the rape onto her mother. And as much as he empathized, more than ever, he wished he had seen the signs earlier.
Blaise had, but he simply ignored him.
After all, they had the emotional connection.
Well, she and Granger had one too.
And as for her, well, that rock of indifference in his mind had been obliterated.
He couldn't say that he cared for her, no, but he held a newfound respect and appreciation for her.
"Oh, god, what have I done?" Those words had haunted him.
He'd thought those same words as he fled with Snape from Hogwarts after the sixth year fiasco; and the look of horror and dread on Granger's face had mirrored his. She'd done something that he'd never had the courage to do...she'd done something without rationalizing...and she'd done it for someone who had never given a damn about her before that moment.
So, for the last three days he had checked on her.
Usually she was asleep when he had stuck his head into her room. Draco never stayed long because she always stirred in her sleep when he came in the room. It was as if she had subconsciously known that he was there, watching her. Draco wasn't sure how he would pull it off that day with his father being in the hospital without looking suspicious, but Mother had given him the perfect opportunity.
"Draco...Harry Potter's up there with her now and I'm worried. Go make sure that she's all right."
That fact, obviously, had been a good reason for his mother's worries.
Draco still couldn't fathom her being alone and without friends. However, after three excruciating minutes of mindless flirting with the witch at the check-in desk, he had come to believe the tales of his mother and best friend. Outside of Pansy, mother and Blaise, there had been three people who had visited her.
Three.
And none, he knew, had visited just to say hello.
Since the Marquette Manor incident, there had been a lot of hush-hush drama occurring in the Auror Department. Outside of the department's employees, the Minister himself, and those he had trusted emphatically, no one else knew about the post-incident fallout in the department. The Aurors had been enraged at his punishment, or lack thereof, and things had been tense. And as much as he had tried, Draco found it impossible to steer clear and wait for it to mull over.
Not when it had involved a blatant hush-up attempt.
Granger just had to be abandoned by the most popular, although not highly ranked, Auror in the Ministry, didn't she?
If it had been anyone else in Potter's position, they would've been terminated immediately and horrible stories would've been written about them in The Prophet; stories so scathing that they would have never been able to acquire another job in the Ministry.
But no, it wasn't some ordinary bloke who had abandoned their post. No, it was Harry fucking Potter, boy-wonder, and saviour of the wizarding kind.
And while that had infuriated him to no end, what really made the steam shoot from his ears had been the decision to authorize the use of Memory charms on any Auror suspected of disclosing information about the incident, which had been suddenly filed as top secret, to reporters. It really had meant that they were authorized to Obliviate all the Aurors who had rescued Granger on mere suspicion and without evidence. Once he had heard about it, he had seen to it that Blaise had made it out with his memories. Thanks to nearly three months worth of vacation time he had built up over the years, his best mate had made it out, though the other Aurors hadn't been so lucky.
But as Draco followed the weeping woman, he found himself seething at the egregious injustice done to her. It had been more than a week since the incident, and the effects of Potter's abandonment were still visible.
While she hobbled around (sans bruises) and was bound to a cast as well as a hospital bed, Potter got to spend two weeks at home on administrative leave, resting and spending extra time with friends and his girlfriend, no doubt. Potter slept in while everyone in the department had to work overtime to cover his mistakes before anyone in the media had caught on. They'd Obliviated so many to protect him. And so many hours of the last six days of Draco Malfoy's life had been wasted doing damage control instead of working on his cases.
It was all because him.
And that disgusted him to the extreme.
The whole thing reeked of unfairness.
If anyone wanted to know why Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter, the last six days explained it better than words ever could.
He got away with everything short of murder because he was the most popular orphan in their world and because he had rid them of a bloodthirsty maniac. Well, congratulations! Draco didn't give a damn if everything he did in school was for the greater good or even that he was predestined to fight the Dark Lord since infancy. The Dark Lord was gone and Potter still broke the rules...and rule-breakers were supposed to be punished.
That was how it worked.
Potter had rarely been punished for a thing in his entire life simply because he was The-Boy-Who-Lived.
It had always left a bitter taste on Draco's tongue, but for some reason it was bitterer these days.
Two weeks of administrative leave, which had been blamed on the need for a vacation when asked, and desk duty, blamed on the heavy paperwork load, were the sorriest attempt at punishing 'The Wonder Git' that Draco had ever seen.
So he followed her up the stairs to the roof of the hospital and watched as she pushed open the doors forcefully. He was stunned by her action, but had slipped through the door just in time.
The roof was like a garden, full of flowers, vines, bushes, and grass; all charmed to stay green and beautiful all year, no matter what the temperature was outside. Today, the weather was cool and the wind blew through her baggy garments without mercy. He instinctively pulled his jacket closer to him, chilled, but she didn't seem to be affected.
He figured that her anger had kept her warm.
From his spot near the door, he watched as the woman hobbled a few feet from the edge. She then sat on the grass, groaned in pain as she clutched her leg after making a few adjustments, rested her face in her hands, and sobbed. He wanted to turn around and leave her to cry alone. A sobbing woman had become a weakness that he acquired with his new conscience. But for some reason, he didn't walk away. One step after the next led him right to where she was, sobbing away. He removed the Disillusionment charm and chose his words carefully. "Please don't tell me you're wasting your tears on a git like Potter?"
ooo
Part 2: Conspiracy
Granger transitioned from sobbing to alarmed and standing in seconds.
Tear-streaked eyes stared at him, wide with disbelief. However, instead of the typical, 'What are you doing here, Malfoy?' she lifted her head to the heavens and shouted, "God!" Her voice was shrilled, "Have I not been punished enough? Can someone please explain this conspiracy against me?"
Confused by her declaration, "I don't know who this 'god' is that you're talking to, but you sound barking mad for yelling at someone who isn't here."
She looked like she'd travelled down a long road and just wanted to sleep in her own bed for one night. "Why are you here, Malfoy? Come to taunt me? I know that this is a perfect situation for you and all, especially with your penchant for kicking people when they're down." Hermione looked down. "Get your fix and move on. I'm so tired of fighting everyone."
The words he spoke came from his subconscious. "Then don't."
Granger's eyes went about as wide as his. "What?"
He didn't answer her question immediately. After all, he needed a moment to think of something to say. He quickly thought back to her words and wasn't surprised that she'd thought so ill of him. But he was surprised that her scathing tone had burned in his chest. Draco, after all, wasn't supposed to care what she had thought about him; she wasn't supposed to matter. Hermione Granger was still insignificant in the life of Draco Malfoy-or so he thought.
Still, he almost fixed his lips to ask the question that was on his mind, but he stopped himself. "You're right. It's not like me to pass up the opportunity to kick someone when they're down," he trailed off thoughtfully. "But alas, I've grown up and satisfying that penchant wasn't my intention for foll-" He cleared his throat. Never would he admit to stalker-like behaviour. "Coming up here."
"Then why are you here, Malfoy?"
An uncomfortable moment passed between them. "To say thank you, I guess...for a few things...defending my mother, for starters."
Her tear-streaked eyes widened. "You mean-"
He waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I heard it...it was hard not to, you were practically screaming at him and everyone knows the only rooms that have Silencing Charms are the ones in the mental ward-" His lips snapped shut. He'd spoken too much.
If she caught on to his faux pas, she didn't mention it. "I-I forgot," Granger dried her eyes quickly with the sleeve of her shirt.
He realised she looked nervous...well, at least she wasn't crying anymore.
Mission accomplished.
Wait, was that really his mission?
Draco turned to pay special attention to the blooming pink hibiscus to his left, while she stared down at her ridiculous orange socks, sniffling and shifting her weight from leg to leg.
It was pretty obvious it pained her to stand so long and he wondered why she didn't just sit down. Probably because she didn't feel comfortable enough around him to let down her defences low enough to even sit; not that he ever gave her reason.
His conscience screamed at him to speak to her, but Draco stood his ground, for the moment. He wasn't at all surprised by the high level of discomfiture that surrounded them. Everything about their interactions, ever since the first one, was awkward and every single one of them usually ended with one of them in flight mode.
Granger broke the silence with a pensive stare in his direction. "Why were you standing outside of my room?"
For a second, he comprised a forty-four item list of all the excuses he could use in his defence; a nasty little habit he had that his conscience didn't particularly like. And while it screamed for him to tell her the truth, he skimmed his list of lies, but none of them were good enough to be uttered. Reluctantly, he went with a variation of the truth. "Mother was worried about what would transpire between you and Potter and sent me to check on you."
"Oh..." her voice trailed off as she looked off into the distance and fidgeted with the last button on her shirt.
"You can sit down, you know."
Her brow went up.
"I prefer to stand."
Granger was such a stubborn, proud thing and while it was still irritating, he was oddly relieved to see that side of her shine through the haze of depression that seemed to smother the life out of her. Draco didn't hide his annoyance. "Your leg is clearly bothering you. Quit being daft and stubborn, and sit down before you hurt it worse." To prove his point and show her he meant little to no harm, Draco whipped his wand from the holster in his jacket and conjured a chair. Pointedly, he glared and hissed, "Sit."
And after a visible examination of said chair for dark artefacts or anything malicious, she complied cautiously and grimaced; it was as if she expected the arms to suddenly grab her and hold her captive.
Of course, Granger didn't relax, not even once she realised that neither he nor the chair were out to get her.
Draco thought she looked quite foolish.
"I'm not going to curse you or anything, you can relax."
She muttered. "I beg to still are an opportunist and this is the perfect opportunity."
For a moment, he was disturbed that she thought of him as some kind of deranged monster. And then Draco realised he wasn't supposed to care what Granger thought of him. He felt a bit better then, sort of. His grey eyes floated to a rose bush less than five feet from her transfigured chair and then drifted back to the woman and watched as she massaged her leg with her good arm and a pained expression.
"How are you?" It was out his mouth before he could stop it. Draco immediately wanted to jump off the building to avoid her reaction to his question, but knew there were all kinds of charms that kept him from fulfilling that want.
Granger's head shot up. "As if you care, Malfoy."
Really, he didn't...right? The original question was an innocent slip of the tongue, but it was asked and damnit, he wanted a response, "Okay, so maybe I don't, but just answer the bloody question."
After regarding him with a strange glare, she sighed wearily, "I'm the furthest thing from 'fine' and to be honest, the fact that you're sort of not acting like a foul git is rather alarming."
He wanted to shout at her for making such a low and offensive statement, but the words refused to come. While Draco wasn't the same boy from Hogwarts, he didn't win Witch Weekly's annual 'nice award' either; he wasn't even on the ballot.
On quite a few occasions he purposely made comments that cut people to the bone, said things that he knew would hurt. He had lied, cheated, was rather amoral, and didn't care until his conscience reminded him to. Sometimes he found himself snickering at and enjoying the misfortunes of others before his conscience berated him. He wasn't a nice person, but he wasn't a Dark Lord in the making, either.
He liked to think he was stuck in the middle of 'pleasant' and 'Voldemort'.
"Sorry for being decent, Granger, you'll never have to worry about that happening again," was his automatic response as he calmly swept past her and took a seat in the grass a couple of feet from the edge.
A few minutes passed before she attempted to sit next to him, with great difficulty, "That's not exactly what I meant."
He just snorted, grabbed her hand, and pulled her down the rest of the way, but it wasn't as rough as he wanted.
Granger let out a surprised yelp and it took a few moments to finish reeling over the fact that he actually helped her...for no reason.
"You've never been decent to me...not for honourable reasons."
She had a point, but he wanted nothing more than to change the topic.
"What happened with Potter? I came into the picture when he started talking about Pansy and my mother."
The shrug she gave meant she didn't want to discuss it thoroughly, but she gave him a vague answer. "He came asking for my forgiveness about the Marquette Manor incident and I told him in more or less words to shove it."
Draco was impressed; he half expected Granger to cave and forgive Scarhead for his transgressions the moment he walked into the room. Everyone forgave him immediately so it felt good that his quest for forgiveness from Granger was presented, not considered, and denied.
Not everyone got what they wanted; now even the Boy-Wonder knew that.
Oh, sweet vengeance at it's finest.
oooo
Part 3: The Conscience of Draco Malfoy
He'd lost count of how many uncomfortable silences fell between them.
"Blaise told me about what happened to your wand. Can they fix it?" He asked just to make conversation. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why he was still there; he'd done his duty. She wasn't getting hexed to bits by Potter, so why was he still there?
Remorsefully, her eyes lowered to the ground and her hand reached into the right pocket of her pants and pulled out her broken wand; it was in three pieces. "No, but I'm not ready to part with it. It took me ages to find it after the final battle."
Draco started to ask her why, but he understood the link between a wizard and their wand. After Potter disarmed him that night in Malfoy Manor, he'd felt completely empty. He sought Potter out after everything calmed down following the final battle and asked the smug git for his wand back. It took him a long time to hand it over.
A gust of wind blew and while Draco shivered, Hermione didn't seem to notice.
He figured it was now or never. He took a deep breath. "Thank you, you know, for saving Pansy in Australia."
Her face went as white as the hospital garments she wore. "H-how-she told you everything, didn't she? She said she would. I just didn't think she'd do it this soon."
"She let me use Legilimency on her."
Granger stared up at the sky and he stared at her.
"That night easily was in the top five for the 'Worst Night Ever' award, right in front of the night in Godric's Hollow with Voldemort and Nagini," she finally said, voice raw.
He understood all about the 'Worst Night Ever' or WNE rankings as he called it. "You did what you had-"
"Don't say that, Malfoy," she snapped weakly, shutting her eyes. There was a pained expression on her face and he knew she was reliving the night all over again. "Pansy's been saying that for five years, but I know I could've just stunned him, jinxed him, hexed him, but...but when I saw what he was doing to her, when I heard her cries and pleas for him to stop..." her voice grew cold, "'Avada Kedavra' was relatively minor in regards to what I really wanted to do to him."
He understood.
Granger took a shaky breath and opened her eyes, wiping the tears from them. "She doesn't blame me for it, but I blamed myself initially. I thought I could've stopped him. He came after me that night too and all I did was a Revulsion Jinx and a Trip Jinx to throw him off and hid under a Disillusionment Charm. It took me fifteen minutes to pull myself together enough to go after him, but it was too late. I heard Pansy's scream and lost it. I don't remember speaking the curse, Pansy said she didn't remember hearing it. All I remember is a flash of green that came from my wand and...everything stopped."
Draco couldn't figure out why he wanted her to keep talking. After all, he didn't want to hear it. Seeing what Pansy went through was enough...but listening to Granger's side of it just made it harder.
Sombrely, he asked, "What happened after that?" She looked like she needed to get it all out.
She looked at him as if she didn't quite understand why the words were spewing from her lips. "We just stood there for a few minutes, staring at each other. And then reason and logic returned and I just lost it, right there in the alley. I don't know if I was guilty about murdering him or if I was guilty that I used an Unforgivable, but I didn't have time to figure it out."
"Why not?"
She shook her head and stared out into the distance, "Pansy snapped out of her trance and started screaming."
Draco cringed, paling a bit.
Granger continued, unfazed, but her voice was thick with emotions. "I had to tackle her to get her to stop before any Muggles came running. I wouldn't be able to explain how he'd died, so I fixed her clothes, set his body on fire, erased all evidence that either of us were there, dressed her because by then she was unresponsive again. We went back to my hotel and I put her in the tub," she closed her eyes again, remembering it all, "All I wanted to do was leave and mull things over alone, but she had a fit when I so much as adjusted on the floor next to the tub. She clung to me like a wounded animal for the rest of the night."
As he internally reeled from everything she told him, Draco found himself staring up at the sky.
She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and continued as she pulled at the skin on her arm.
"Pansy stayed with me in my room for the rest of the time she was in Australia and didn't speak a word for the first three days. I had to convince her to talk, for her sake. And when she caved, Pansy sobbed for hours."
Really, he didn't want to discuss Pansy's tears.
Or discuss anyone's tears for the matter.
"Did anyone find out?" He asked just to change the topic.
"Not that I know of; I'd probably be in Azkaban right now if they did. The next morning they found his body right where we left him, burned beyond recognition. They identified him by his dental records within the week. Turns out he was some fugitive serial rapist from the States. He'd raped and killed more than thirty girls in Australia alone, which didn't include the two girls they found the same night I killed him. They were raped and strangled before they were tossed in a dumpster in the same alley the attack occurred in."
"Merlin." It was then Draco realised Pansy and Granger had been lucky to escape with their lives.
"I think they were just glad to see him dead. After they initially announced his identity on the news stations, we never heard about it again...."
Draco remained silent, just shocked by what they'd been through.
"Sometimes I dream about it," Granger confessed almost in a whisper.
"You shouldn't. He was a monster-"
"Don't you think I know that, Malfoy?" Her voice was cold. "I don't dream about him...I don't care about him. It took a while for me to understand, but he deserved what he got. I dream of all the different ways I could've saved her."
"Granger," He spoke, unsure as to why he was trying to comfort her. He wanted to stop there, but something wouldn't let him. "I think you need to take a page from Pansy's book and let it go. It's not your fault. Pansy doesn't blame you and I sure as hell don't. You saved her."
She stared at him as if he'd sprouted another head.
Draco felt like he had, but kept talking anyway, "Years of being a courageous Gryffindor have left you with a Hero Complex like your old best friend, who shall not be named because I really want to push him off a cliff at the moment. The thing is that you can't save everyone; no matter how many lifelines you throw out. Don't be so hard on yourself."
Granger looked at him as if she was seeing him for the very first time. "I've been told all that countless times-"
"I'm not Pansy," he snapped caustically, "I don't give a shit if you choose to listen to me or not."
"You never let me finish," she growled in response, "I was about to say that it makes a lot of sense the way you put it-"
"I always make sense."
"You're impossible to talk to."
"And yet, here we are."
She sighed. "And here we are...." Granger trailed off as another gust of wind blew through them.
Draco didn't have the faintest clue why either, but he had mixed feelings about the result of their conversation.
It was getting harder and harder for him not to feel some sort of empathy for her. After all, she'd been through a lot, but he just knew she wasn't telling everything. He just knew there was more to her story. It was getting harder and harder for him to dive into her past because if that was the catalyst, he didn't want to know what else had happened. It was getting harder and harder for him to figure out just why he launched the investigation into her past in the first place.
"I have no idea why I told you all that," Granger told him quietly.
But as they sat in another silence, there were twenty-seven things the conscience of Draco Malfoy wanted to tell her.
It wanted to tell her that though he never spoke of it, he understood at least some of where she came from. It wanted to tell her that sometimes he had terrible nightmares about what happened in the Astronomy tower and he too sought redemption for the things he'd done in the past. The conscience of Draco Malfoy wanted to tell her that she should let it go; it was in the past, done, and she shouldn't dwell on the things she couldn't change. After all, dwelling never did anyone any good. His conscience wanted to tell her that she had to forgive herself first before any kind of redemption could be found. He wanted to say so much more, but he never got a chance.
oooo
Part 4: A stare that could end wars
The door to the roof creaked as it opened.
Granger was the first to turn her head. He heard her muttered, "Crap," and whipped his head around to investigate.
Perhaps it was Potter again; rearing and ready for round two. But no, it was a Weasley-the girl.
And nothing made sense anymore.
Draco was just as shocked to see her as she was to see him, but not for a moment did he show it. She-Weasel blinked a few times, eyes wide and jaw slacken as if she were witnessing the impossible. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy outside, sitting next to each other, and talking without hexes or curses?
Yes, yes they were.
More than enough time had passed for them to get over their differences, and besides, he really didn't hate Granger.
When Granger used his shoulder as a prop to help herself back onto her feet, he should've been angry with her and he had every sense to tell her that he wasn't some instrument she could use at will. However, as he stood, he found that he wasn't upset. She was, after all, lame.
Tension, incredible tension, fell over them like a mist.
The only thing that he heard was the howling of the wind that blew through Weasley's red mane and did nothing to Granger's frizz ball. It looked like a scene in one of those cheesy western movies Blaise introduced him to a few years back. All they needed was the horrible theme music.
Granger's defensive walls that slowly lowered during their conversation were back with a vengeance and higher than ever.
It was quite obvious that Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger were not fans of one another. It was a cat-fight in the making and Draco didn't know who to place his bets on. She-Weasel was an ex-Quidditch player with six brothers; she had to be strong and athletic. But Granger, he couldn't sleep on her. After all, she had a weapon on her arm and a stare that could end wars.
"Malfoy," came the cool greeting from the redhead.
Grey eyes flickered to her left hand before they moved to her face. His response was impassive as ever. "Weasley."
Clipped and unemotional, the she-Weasel greeted the brunette. "Hermione."
"Ginny," she wore an impressive poker face, calm and even, "Should I deduce that Harry sent you?"
Draco's brow twitched at the mild, but scathing tone of Granger's voice. He still saw the tears that shone in her eyes from their previous conversation, but they were well-hidden and the glossiness could be blamed on the wind.
"You shouldn't assume anything," the redhead's hands disappeared into the pockets of her Muggle denims.
"Why are you here?"
"I'd like to start over."
Granger's brow rose faster than his own. He'd always assumed the youngest Weasel and Granger were the best of friends at school. They were always seen together, even as early as his third year. Quickly, Draco realised he knew nothing about the Gryffindors he teased mercilessly at school.
Grangers stared her hard. "Excuse me?"
The youngest Weasley squirmed under Granger's intense stare. "Now that you're back in town, I think you and I should bury the hatchet between us."
Of all the bullshit he'd heard in his life, the peace treaty that came from She-Weasley's mouth ranked at number one. He secretly hoped Granger wasn't stupid enough to accept.
And then she did something that made even him smirk, she snorted, "There must be a conspiracy against me."
Offended, She-Weasel scoffed. "What's that-?"
Granger never let her finish, "I was gone five years, Ginny, and everyone seems to think my brain has evaporated. I know why you're here and what you want-and it's not my friendship."
"Y-"
Draco stood there and beheld the sight of a raging Hermione Granger; her hair and skin seemed to crackle with raw magic. Finally, he was seeing the know-it-all he remembered....
"Ginny, don't think for one second that I don't know what kind of person you are. You know at least part of the reason why I left; I could tell that you knew based from your first letter."
"Well-"
She cut her off with a glare. "Nevertheless, it's not that important. The truth is you've had plenty of opportunities to express your wishes for friendship in the letters you wrote over the years, so please don't insult my intelligence with your flagrant lies. You're here because Harry told you that I refused to forgive him and you thought you'd use the promise of an alliance to accomplish what your boyfriend couldn't. You know him, he's going to badger me until I relent and you're using the promise of friendship to keep him away from me."
Draco wanted to laugh, but his mind was too busy processing her words. He had to hand it to Granger; she always knew just what to say to put someone in their place.
She-Weasel blushed. "Well-"
"You may have gotten my position in the group and in their lives, Ginny, but you're not the 'Brains of the Golden Trio', you never will be. I hope you've enjoyed trying to live up to my legacy."
Grey eyes widened and brown eyes narrowed angrily.
"I just don't understand you, Ginny," she shook her head and stared at her cast as if it were a difficult Rune she'd spent hours trying to master.
"What do you mean?"
Granger looked at her fellow Gryffindor, "You've gotten everything you wanted, and your sole mission remains the same: keep Hermione Granger away from Harry Potter. He's yours. You have him. I don't want him, and his behaviour as of late has told me loud and clear that he doesn't want me. You have no reason to be jealous anymore. Why can't you be content with that?"
To say he was mildly shocked by her words wouldn't have been a correct assumption; Draco was confused, intrigued, flabbergasted-the list went on and on into infinity.
She-Weasley stared daggers at Granger. "If that's what you think this is about then you're wrong. You should've stayed gone, Hermione."
"I have no reason to hide anymore."
"You don't?"
"No, I don't."
The youngest Weasley stared at her for a moment, shocked, but in two seconds, she regained her composure. "Well, now that you're back, I won't let you hurt them again."
For a moment, Granger looked like she was about to cry, but her face never broke and Draco knew more than ever before that she was stronger than he ever anticipated. He was so used to seeing her so broken, dejected, and beaten down by life. But today, she'd faced not one, but two of her old friends and put them in their places effectively. Oddly, first and foremost, he was proud of her. Secondly, he was fucking confused.
"I'm not here to hurt either of them, again. Matter of fact, I left to avoid hurting either of them, especially Ron. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret what I did to him."
Draco was intrigued.
"And I hope you never forget because he hasn't." She spat hatefully.
Granger only nodded and cradled her arm against her chest. Her features softened and she looked as if she was struggling to save face. Her voice was broken when she said: "I think you should know that leaving Ron was the hardest thing I've ever done. We weren't perfect, but I was happy with him. I think you should also know that I left London very much in love with him."
Draco's mind was working hard. Why would she leave someone that she was in love and happy with? Draco wondered as silence loomed between them. And then it hit him like a slab of plywood to the face.
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" She-Weasley asked blandly.
Draco wanted to shake her, slap her, and force her to realise what he realised. Granger left because she didn't have a choice; something made her leave suddenly!
"Nothing, Ginny, nothing at all. You know, there's something that even after five years I still don't understand."
Tersely, she snapped, "And that is...."
"When did I become Enemy Number One in your books?"
She-Weasel set her jaw. "When you left my brother, Hermione. That's when you became the enemy. Blood before water, Hermione, you should know that."
"No," she shook her head sadly, "I've been your enemy long before that and you know it just as I do." Granger chuckled as if someone told a sad little joke, "The funny thing is, Ginny, there was a time when I wished we were friends."
"And now?"
"Now? I'm glad we aren't."
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my characterizations and plot. JKR owns everything else. I make no money from this.
A/N: Ooh, burn...I've always wanted to say that. The title of the second part was inspired by "Conspiracy" by Paramore. Thanks to Wildflower4evr for betaing this chapter :)
