How the Tables Have Turned
BANG!
"Hermione, open up, please!"
Hermione pulled her pillow down even harder over her ears, trying to drown out the sound of Harry banging on her door.
"Hermione, we need to talk! You can't stay in there forever!"
Want to bet? thought Hermione. Her eyes were puffy and stung at the touch from crying so much the night before. It had only taken a simple levitation charm to move Harry into his own room, but once she'd done that, she was once again left to drown in her thoughts, which pained her enough without the searing pain in her cheek from where Harry had struck her. It had been hours before she finally managed to cry herself to sleep.
"Hermione, please, open the door!"
"Go away, Harry!" screamed Hermione, fury stretching out to every inch of her body.
"I'm so sorry Hermione, I'm so, so sorry! I can't believe what came over me! I hate myself right now, you have no idea, I'm so disgusted with myself, I can't even remember what happened after I hit you, and … just, please, please talk to me!"
Hermione sighed. Harry was her fiancé. No matter the issue, he at least deserved a chance to plead his case. She got up and opened the door.
Harry smiled meekly, seeing this as a small ray of hope. He entered the room, took her hand, and led her to the bed, where they both sat down.
"Hermione, I know it's no excuse, but I just drank so much Firewhiskey last night. I went way beyond my limit, I was so upset about our arguing and about Malfoy" (Hermione's stomach jumped at the sound of his name) "and I guess I just tried to drink my misery away. I'm so glad you hit me, I completely deserved it. It's no excuse, I realize that, and I will do everything in my power to make this up to you."
"You hurt me, Harry." whispered Hermione. "You raised your hand to me. That is completely unacceptable. That is something I never thought I would have to worry about from you. I thought I would always be safe with you."
"You are, Hermione, you are!" said Harry. "I made a mistake, that's all it was. It will never happen again, I promise you!"
"You've been making a lot of mistakes lately, haven't you?" asked Hermione. "What's up with you? Are you not happy with your life? You're trying so hard to be like everyone else, everyone else caught up in their sex and alcohol and teenage angst. Is your life really that bad that you have to turn to all of that?"
"No, it's not, not at all!" said Harry. "I don't know what it is. Maybe it's just peer pressure. But it's going to stop from now, I promise. From now on, it's just you and me. No more alcohol and I won't even think about sex. Just you and me. Okay?"
Hermione sighed, looking her fiancé in the eyes. Last night, she had seen rage in those eyes like she had never seen before. For the first time in seven years, Harry had actually scared her. "I can't, Harry. You hurt me, physically and emotionally. I never thought you'd hit me, ever, and you did. I think … I think we need to take a break."
"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "No, you're just upset. I understand that. But a break will not help anything. We need to be together, Hermione. I need you. Please, please don't leave me."
Hermione shook her head. "I'm serious, Harry. You need time to compose yourself, to sort yourself out before you can be with me. If you're serious about wanting to marry me, then I want you to be completely devoted to me, I want you to love me and be the husband that I need for you to be. You need to figure yourself out before you can do that."
"Hermione, please-"
"I have to get dressed, we've got lessons in half an hour. Please leave."
Harry looked near tears as he stared disbelievingly at his fiancée. He could not think of anything to say, couldn't come up with something to make her change her mind. So, he did the only thing he could do. He left.
Fresh tears made their way down Hermione's cheeks as he closed the door behind him. When had things changed so drastically? Was this her consequence for what she had done with Malfoy? Was all this somehow her doing?
No, it wasn't. She didn't force Harry to cheat on her with Ginny. She didn't force him to hit her. No, this was Harry's thing. This was something Harry needed to sort out. Nodding her head in reassurance, she looked at herself confidently in the mirror on her bureau. I'm doing the right thing, she told herself, not nearly as reassured as she pretended to be.
………………………………...
The first lesson of the day was Charms with Flitwick. Hermione, to show that she meant what she said, sat with Lavender and Parvati, while Harry sat miserably with Ron. Only ten minutes had gone by before Professor McGonagall showed up at the door.
"Professor Flitwick, may I borrow Mr Potter and Ms Granger, please?"
"Of course you may!" said Flitwick cheerily.
Harry and Hermione exchanged looks before getting up and following McGonagall out the door.
The moment they were out of earshot from the rest of the class, McGonagall swooped down on both of them.
"What is the meaning of last night, I ask you?" she shouted. "I was walking to the staff room for tea and all of a sudden a herd of students are all coming from the direction of your common room, smelling of Firewhiskey!"
"Professor, please-" Hermione started.
"You are our Head Boy and our Head Girl!" she carried on hysterically. "You earned that title because you are respectful, admirable students! Never would I have expected you to abuse it by throwing parties and serving Firewhiskey to minors!"
"Professor-"
"Fifty points each will be taken off of Gryffindor, and you will both be given detentions-"
"Professor, please, the party was my fault." Harry interjected. "It was my idea, Hermione was never comfortable with it. I talked her into it. She didn't even stay, she was in her room all night. Please don't punish her for my mistake."
McGonagall glared at Harry, obviously disappointed in him but also trying to read whether he was telling the truth or just covering for Hermione.
"Is this true, Ms Granger?"
"Yes, Professor." said Hermione.
"Very well," said McGonagall. "Potter, fifty points will be taken off of Gryffindor and you will be given a week's worth of detention. If this happens again, you will have your Head Boy duties revoked immediately. And Ms Granger, I expected much better from you. I shall expect that nothing like this will happen again, under both of your watches. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Professor." They said in unison.
McGonagall glared at them both one more time before striding down the corridor towards her office.
Harry looked at Hermione hopefully, thinking that coming to her defense would maybe cause her to soften her feelings towards him.
However, a quick "thanks" was all she could muster before heading back into the classroom, leaving her crestfallen fiancé behind her.
………………………………...
Hermione had never felt more lonely then she did that day. Harry had not attempted another confrontation, even though he had ample opportunities to do so. This surprised Hermione; she could have sworn that he would continue trying to win her back. But, they went through Charms and then Transfiguration, and then double Defense Against the Dark Arts after lunch, and even after lessons Harry had not tried to approach her. She gave up hope after seven o'clock, when his detention was to start. She had meant what she had said to him, but she still wanted him to at least try. Didn't she mean enough to him for him to fight for her?
And then there was Malfoy. For the first time since their first encounter, she had gone a whole day without hearing from him. She had no lessons with him, and he hadn't tried to make contact with her. She found it odd, seeing as they had an arrangement that he had never before hesitated to take full advantage of whenever he pleased. Was he getting tired of her? Did he not want her anymore? The very thought made Hermione feel empty inside. You should be happy, you moron! she scolded herself. If Malfoy was no longer interested, then she would no longer have to lie to Harry. But that meant they would never shag again … never be together again …
It's a good thing. It's a good thing. Be happy, hope that this is over.
But that night, as she lay in bed wide awake, she finally realized that she did not hope it was over. She was upset that Malfoy hadn't tried to talk to her, hadn't tried to arrange a meeting with her. And, it pained her to admit it, but she actually missed him. She missed his sickening smirk and his mean comments. She missed the way he touched her, the way that she felt when she was with him …
Suddenly, she sat up. There was no way that she was sleeping, not with all of these thoughts suffocating her mind. She had a sudden impulse, and without even thinking of the repercussions, she decided to act on it. It was eleven thirty, and still Harry was not back from his detention. Wearing only her bra and underwear, she stole through the corridor leading to Harry's room and pushed the door open quietly, making certain that he was not there. After scanning the empty room, she raced to his trunk and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, silently cursing herself for what she was about to do.
It was quite an anxious walk from her dormitory down to the dungeons. She had to sneak as quietly as possible, for fear of running into Filch or Mrs Norris, but the Invisibility Cloak made her feel much more secure than she would have without it. When she reached the entrance, she whispered, "Salazar".
Very quietly, she removed the Invisibility Cloak and crossed the dark, deserted common room, climbing the circular stairs until she reached the seventh year boys dormitory. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.
This time, she knew exactly where to go. Her stomach jumped again as she watched Draco Malfoy, sleeping peacefully in his bed, and she soon wondered whether she had made a mistake in coming here. Her wondering passed quickly though as her heart began to race faster, fully committed to following through with this impulse of hers.
She quietly walked over to his bed, then pulled back the covers and climbed in with him. Her hand wasted no time as it slid down his body and easily found it's target, for apparently Malfoy enjoyed sleeping in the nude. She gently began massaging him, and soon enough, his eyes began to flutter open. She immediately pressed a finger to his lips as his eyes widened in surprise at her presence, but he did not say a word. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her with a passion that Hermione could not remember ever feeling from him. However, after only a couple of moments, he pulled away, threw the covers off of himself and pulled on a pair of underwear. He nodded towards the door, indicating that he wanted her to follow him out of it. Confused, Hermione obliged.
Once in the common room, both stared at one another, on opposite ends of the room.
"What the hell, Malfoy?" said Hermione, feeling somewhat insulted that he had stopped her.
"What the hell what?" asked Malfoy. "What the hell are you doing here, that's the only question that should be asked."
Hermione stared at him, stumped for an answer. What did he mean what was she doing there? What did he think she was doing there?
Malfoy scanned her face, noticing that her cheeks instantly flushed.
"You know what, you're right, what am I doing here?" she said, growing angry. "I'll just leave then."
She strode across the common room towards the exit, but as she passed Malfoy, he grabbed her arm.
"What do you want?" she hissed.
He looked into her fierce eyes, then released her. Instead of answering, he sat down on the sofa and dropped his head into his hands. Hermione crossed her arms, looking at him expectantly. Finally, after a moment or two, he lifted his head to look at her.
"Look, I don't think this is such a great idea anymore." he finally said, staring at her determinedly. "There's too many risks. Snape already knows, and if my mum finds out, all hell will break loose. If anyone else finds out, all hell will break loose. What if Blaise somehow found out? Or Pansy? Or even Pothead or Weasel?"
Hermione's expression changed from impatient to enraged. "Since when did it phase you in the least of someone finding out?! You never cared before, I begged with you, I literally begged you to not do what you did! But you wouldn't listen to me, you didn't care that it would ruin my life! You didn't care that I didn't want it, or that-"
"That you didn't want it? Bullshit you didn't want it!" exclaimed Malfoy. "You wanted it just as much, if not more than I did!"
"Don't flatter yourself," snarled Hermione. "I didn't want it at all. But you pushed it, and now you're backing out?"
"Well then, if you didn't want it, I don't see what the problem is here. You're free, Granger. My lips are sealed, no one will ever find out. I can go back to living my normal life and you can go back to being the repulsive Mudblood that you are. No harm, no foul. This is what you want, isn't it?"
Hermione opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. This was what she wanted, wasn't it? Hadn't Malfoy been the cause of all her stress lately? Hadn't Malfoy been the one ruining her life? Wasn't this exactly what she wanted? But, if it was, then why did she feel as though she were losing something?
Hermione stared at him, wondering where this change of heart had come from. Was he really worried about their secret getting out? Or was he bored of her, did he just not want her anymore?
"You're right," said Hermione, resisting a sudden urge of tears forcing their way to escape. "You're right, this is what I want. Good night, Malfoy."
Malfoy watched her turn and leave, wanting to call out to her, to make her stay, to tell her that he didn't mean anything that he had said. But it was that exact attitude that was the reason why he had to let her go. The night before had been an eye-opener for him. All day his mind flashed back to lying in bed with her, telling her that they meshed well together, her smiling at him, and then knocking out Potter the muggle way because he had hit her. What was it to him if he had hit her? She was his witch, his Mudblood, his to do with as he pleased. Malfoy was just enjoying a piece on the side, a sex-only relationship. So then why did he hit Potter? Why did he enjoy lying in bed with her after their session? It was these questions, these acts, that made Malfoy realize that he was getting in way over his head. The Mudblood had cast some sort of spell over him that was not magic at all, and it was getting to be too much.
I am Draco Malfoy, he told himself confidently. I am the King of Slytherin. I am pureblood. I am not falling for a Mudblood.
At that thought, he dropped his head into his hands once more, feeling, for the first time, completely and utterly helpless.
