Chapter 9: Hermione's Point of View
Hermione blinks.
"Whatever for?" She says quietly, careful not to anger him.
"Three weeks. Three weeks," he keeps saying.
"Three weeks until what?"
He slams his hand on the basin, making Hermione jump. "You won't understand .It'll only make things worse!" He sobs.
"Draco, you can tell me anything. I can help you."
He puts a hand to his forehead. "Don't you see? I can't talk to you anymore. What would your friends and family say? What would my friends and family say?"
"What would they say to what? Me talking to you is not exactly against the law."
He grits his teeth. "Why are you being so nice to me? I only make your life worse by torturing you and taunting you! Why don't you hate me?"
"Why don't you hate me? The past few days, you showed me a different side of you. One that I never though even existed. Why was it there? Why do you talk to me? I'm a Mudblood! I am worthless! Why haven't you killed me yet?" She spits the words out like venom.
He stares at her. "Why would I ever want to kill you?" He whispers.
"Oh, let me think. See, I'm a Mudblood, I'm a Gryffindor, I'm Harry Potter's best friend, and I am a girl," she counts them off on her fingertips.
"Just because you're a girl-"
"Stop it, Malfoy!" She nearly shouts, her eyes stinging. "For a moment I thought that you had changed. That you were different than what I thought you were before. I thought we could be friends. But I was clearly wrong. You will never care."
She turns to leave, but Draco grabs her wrist. She whirls around, facing him.
"Let go of me, Malfoy!"
"Wait," he pleads. "Please. I-I need you."
Hermione looks at him properly for the first time.
His eyes have dark circles around them, his hair unruly, his lips parched.
His face has become more angular, and it seems he has lost a lot of weight. His blond hair almost looks gray.
"Look, I know something is wrong, Draco. You can decide if you want to tell me or not. I'm fine either way," though she means it as giving him not much of a choice.
Draco wipes his eyes slowly with his sleeve. He still has hold of her wrist, and she makes no move to jerk away.
She reaches out a hand to touch his face, and traces his cheekbone with her thumb.
"What happened to you?" She asks, choking back a sob.
He pulls away a little and shoves his left sleeve up to the end of his forearm.
"This is what happened."
She stifles a small whimper as he reveals his Dark Mark. A large skull with a snake protruding from its mouth burned into his soft skin. There is a dark glow surrounding it, endarkening the outline.
"I-"
"Don't!" He holds out a hand in a stopping motion.
"Draco, listen to me," she grabs his arm, facing him.
"You don't have to do this. You have a choice."
"What do you mean I have a choice?" He bellows.
Hermione goes silent.
"Hermione," he sobs. "He chose me. If I don't do this, he'll kill me. He'll kill my family. Everyone I love. I don't have a choice," he closes his eyes in misery.
"I can help you," she says softly.
"You can't! You won't."
"Why?"
"Because it's dangerous," he pushes his hair away from his face.
"Who says I can't handle dangerous things? And besides-what is it you have to do anyways?"
He takes a deep breath. "I have to-kill Dumbledore."
Hermione's throat tightens. Kill Dumbledore?
"Wha-? How in the world are you going to manage this without help?"
"I have to bring Death Eaters inside the castle."
She gasps. "You can't. There are millions of unprotected students there, the castle, the staff-" Her voice trails into silence.
"Don't you think I've gone through this before? Don't you think I've worried enough about this? I've spent half my time here in the Room of Requirement trying to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. The fact that I've only got three weeks-"
"Vanishing Cabinet?" She inquires.
"There's one here and one in Borgin & Burkes. They transport things from one place to another."
"So,you mean, the Death Eaters enter the cabinet over there, and they appear over here?"
He nods reluctantly. "The only problem is, this one's broken. I have to fix it."
Hermione stares at him, open mouthed. The way he had thought all this out, planned it perfectly, prepared for anything, and now his plan was going to be destroyed? No matter who it was, Hermione isn't going to let that happen.
"Draco, this is risky," she says, chewing her lip. she cannot believe she is helping her best friends mortal enemy.
"You don't have to be part of this at all. You don't have to help me," he looks away. "As a matter of fact, You're not going to help me."
She crosses her arms. "Why would that be?"
"Because you're a Mud-a muggleborn. I can't risk the Death Eaters seeing you and trying to hurt you."
"So? What does it matter to you that I'm hurt?"
Draco opens his mouth, but closes it again. "You caught me there," he mutters.
"Thought so," she smirks. "I will help you."
"Why?"
"Because you're my friend."
"Hermione, you're best friends with Harry Potter. Your complete reputation would be ruined if people found out you helped a Death Eater."
A Death Eater. He called himself a death eater.
"Doesn't matter. And besides," she pats his shoulder. "I don't really have much of a reputation."
"Oh, sure you do. You're the smartest person in the school."
Hermione manages a small smile. "Thanks, Draco."
She gazes at him, indulged in his pure, silver eyes. There are no trace of tears anymore, and his face looks full of life again.
Carefully, she wraps her arms around his neck, and hugs him. The warmth of him, comforts Hermione. He smells like a mix of strawberries and cream.
He hugs her back and as Hermione rests her head on his chest, she can feel the something beneath, humming with warmth, beating with energy.
A heart.
