CHAPTER NINE

With fearful trills

The manor was still, save for the occasional stirring and scurrying of a house elf. He sat alone in the living room, engulfed by a large brown dragon hide armchair, the scales had been magically worn away to leave a smooth leather behind. The blond headed Malfoy boy sunk farther into the cushions as he unintentionally dwelled on the mudblood's harsh words. He had hardly intended for her to know the whole truth, much less learn about it the way she had. Her sharp words rattled around in his brain, poking at all the sore spots that reminded him that he really was just no good.

"Maybe dying will be one of the best things you've done in a while."

He scrunched his face and shut his eyes, trying to block out the words, but they just kept coming.

"It'd do you some good to learn sacrifice."

Her words were like an unwanted conscience in his head, and no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to think of other things, her damn scrutinizing tone kept sneaking its way in.

"Don't tell me your father put you up to this."

No, she had no right to have brought up his late father in any conversation. Her lips were hardly worthy to mention him, and the very fact that she'd thought she had any authority to even think of Lucius Malfoy made his blood boil even though her words were just a tantalizing memory. The unfortunate thing about her comment was that in a way, his dad did have some hand in his situation. As always, things trickled back down to the infamously meddling Lucius. A man Draco had tried his whole life to please but hardly got so much as a 'good job' pat. Every single threat of 'my father will hear about this' had been empty. The last thing the head of the Malfoy family wanted to hear was how whiny his only son had become. The only time his father had ever acted on any complaint that Draco had sent his way was his third year at Hogwarts when that oaf of a man otherwise known as Hagrid had been given a teaching job at the school (of all things a rat like him could get!) and thought that it'd be a good idea to introduce the students on their first day to blood thirsty beasts like hippogriffs. He had a scar on his arm to prove that idiots like Hagrid shouldn't be let within fifty feet of any sort of school. At the thought, he ran his fingers lightly across the puckered skin, a surprisingly lighter color than the rest of his body (if his skin had the ability to do such a thing, perhaps if it got a few shades lighter he'd be transparent). Of course, his thoughts were tugged away from far-off memories of Hogwarts as Hermione's snide voice cut through the still of his mind once more, reminding him of things that he hardly wanted to remember,

"Maybe dying will be one of the best things you've done in a while."

Running a hand through disheveled blond locks, Draco began to wonder why he was letting the taunts and truths of a mudblood get to him. It was not like she was someone worth his worry, and yet it seemed that he had started to appreciate what she thought of him.

"You wouldn't be doing all this shit if you didn't [care], Malfoy!"

Head-Hermione had an extremely valid point, and it was very hard to ignore her, she was after all the smartest person in the class. Besides, he clearly wouldn't be bothered about a damn thing that pertained to her if he didn't care. If he didn't want to cater to her better interests and general good health, he would have simply let her starve and only keep her alive with rations of sour pumpkin juice and moldy bread. God knows he had plenty to spare since the house elves hardly ate, and while he had her entire world at his finger tips to play with like she was his marionette and he her puppet master, he didn't. He could be torturing her every night simply because he wanted to know that someone else in this world was just as miserable as he was, but he couldn't bring himself to bring the pain that his parents had suffered in their last moments upon anyone, not even someone so deserving of it a Hermione Granger. Yet, she was taking his hospitality for granted. She was ignoring the obvious facts that he could fuck her life up in more ways than it already was if she wanted. If anything, she should be grateful that he hadn't decided to make her even more miserable.

"It'd do you some good to learn sacrifice," head-Hermione repeated.

Growling at the recurring memory he snapped, "Maybe it'd do you some good to learn some sacrifice you useless bitch."

When his words sank into the walls around him and left him all alone in silence once more, he realized that he had said that out loud.

Good job, Draco. You're letting that stupid mudblood drive you crazy.

His words reverberated in his inactive mind and he couldn't help but agree with himself. He had done a lot of letting that stupid girl get into his brain. She was like a beetle, crawling around in there eating away at what was his withering sanity (something that in all due fairness had been waning since his sixth year at Hogwards).

Somehow, even with the constant interruption of attempted mediation by Hermione's stinging words he drifted off into sleep, waking up several hours later when his head slipped off his hand. The surprising jolt was enough to shake him awake. Startling in his chair he looked around the room and eyed the clock. 9 am. It had been a whole day since that upsetting argument with his prisoner. Unfortunately, the second he thought that her words had stopped rooting around in his brain, another sharp reply barked at him in the silence,

"Maybe dying will be one of the best things you've done in a while."

Gripping his hair he stood up and shouted into the silence, "Alright, I get it! I'm a useless piece of shit and I deserve to die because of my life choices, you don't have to rub it in my face!"

It was official: that stupid muggle born girl had crawled underneath his skin and was pouring salt in all of the wounds that had hardly healed over. Draco had spent so many years building up an impassable wall of 'not going to give a fuck' emotions, and somehow in one short month this stupid mudblood had torn down all of that hard work and was switching wires around and causing bedlam in his already confused psyche. How he had managed to let her do it, he wasn't even sure. He had always been so guarded, so careful around people and he had figured his façade to be foolproof, but apparently it wasn't mudblood proof. He paced the length of the sitting room for a little bit, trying to decide what he was going to do. At first he argued that he just needed to ignore her, forget that she even existed –but that wouldn't work. If he wanted to survive he would have to go through with his vow (which, on another thought, is quite ironic considering she'd told him that sacrificing himself might be a good thing, she hardly knew the whole story behind that). Then, he argued that maybe her voice would stop echoing in his head if he just went and asked her why she'd said such things about him. His inner Malfoy pride twisted and turned; conflicted on what to do.

Hermione looked up from one of the books she was re-reading at the sound of movement at the archway of the room. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the last person on the earth that she'd like to see. Studying him for a moment she took note that he was wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday, his blond locks were tousled and he looked like he had hardly gotten any sleep. Malfoy was hardly able to stand still; he fidgeted in place, as if uncomfortable to be under her scrutinizing gaze. Pursing her lips at him she went to ask him a question before he asked in a rushed voice,

"Did you really mean what you said?"

Confused at his question she slowly closed the book and stared at him for a moment. It took her a moment to realize what was happening. Everything that she'd said yesterday was getting to him. Finally it all made sense; his messy appearance, the dark circles under his eyes, his twitchy movements. She had finally managed to bother the Slytherin prince! If she were in any other situation she'd probably take the time to gloat and poke at his wounded ego, but as he'd demonstrated several times over the course of her imprisonment he could physically hurt her whenever he wanted and hardly had any conviction in doing so, and judging by his agitated appearance she didn't doubt for a second that he'd bring her within an inch of her life if she said the wrong thing. Finally, after a bit of silence she coyly asked (well, she was most certainly going to try to be as smug as possible without pissing him off),

"Well, I tend to mean everything I say."

He looked at her and sighed heavily,

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean the other stuff…the…stuff you said last night."

"Oh. I see what's going on here. You're worried that I really want you to die, right?"

His silence told Hermione everything she needed to know. Smirking before giving him a serious look she said,

"Maybe I was serious, maybe I wasn't."

That didn't seem to sit too well and he ran a frustrated and shaking hand through his blond hair,

"Stop it, Granger, seriously, stop it!"

She could spot a nervous breakdown from a country away, and the signs of his distress were more than obvious. Sighing heavily she scooted over on her bed and reluctantly patted the empty spot beside her saying,

"Come here."

Malfoy simply stood rooted in his spot, as if worried that if he got any closer to her she'd change him completely. Merling, what the hell was wrong with him? Tilting her head to the side, her tangled hair fell down over her shoulder as she spoke in a slightly more demanding voice,

"I said come here, Draco."

Numbly, he obeyed. His heart was racing and his breathing coming in short gasps. He felt like he couldn't get a deep enough breath. Finally he plopped down next to Hermione and she studied him up close. The few times they'd been this close he was either threatening her or simply doing it to be annoying. She had hardly had any time to actually study him. Raking her brown eyes over his features she noted that he looked much older than he should be. His cheeks were slightly sunken in which gave his angled face even more points to it (if that was even possible), where smooth skin should be, wrinkles had formed on his forehead, dark circles gave his eyes the look of a raccoon; except he was hardly the cute furry little bandit and trash destroyer that most raccoons were generally stereotyped as. Truly, she felt bad for him, while she was not familiar with the Dark magic that was an unbreakable vow, she knew (just like anyone else) that there was no way out of a vow. If there was a way that they could both be happy she'd do it, but she was no longer thinking about him or herself, she was thinking about the whole of the wizarding community –there was no way she was going to sacrifice the ensured happiness of hundreds of witches and wizards just to please Draco Malfoy. But, that did mean she didn't have to be convicted over her choice. Finally she asked,

"You lost sleep over what I said, didn't you?"

His desperate grey-eyed gaze told her all she needed to know. In an act of attempted friendship (because everyone, even someone who hated her simply for who her parents were, deserved an understanding person with a listening ear to chat off) she patted the top of his thigh and said,

"You have to understand, I'm not doing it to personally victimize you. I am not telling you because you are one miserable person who's made an entire lifetime of shitty choices and I will not risk the happiness of witches and wizards who deserve a chance. People who have hardly had any opportunity to fuck up their life as much as you've fucked yours up."

Draco gave her a withering look and hardly had the voice to reply,

"So you're saying that I'm a lost cause?"

She sighed sadly and shrugged and said, "Unfortunately…yes."

There was something in his eyes, some sort of light that went out that made something in her chest hurt. She hadn't ever injured anyone in such a way before and she wondered how bullies like Malfoy could have done it for so long. He rested his elbows on the tops of his thighs and put his head in his hands, shaking his head back and forth,

"I don't even know why the fuck I'm trying."

Hermione simply sat there, quite unsure of what to do. She had never seen Malfoy like this (she'd dealt with several female friends in such a distressed state, but Draco was hardly someone she'd expected to see such an outpouring of emotion from). Hesitant, she placed a hand on his shoulder and said,

"Well, you're a Slytherin, right? So that means you're persistent…ambitious…"

"I know what traits my house are, Granger."

"I was just trying to help-"

"If you wanted to help you'd just fucking tell me what Potter and Weasely are up to."

"We've already discussed why I can't do that."

He jumped away from her touch and stood up, his gaze empty but strangely alive with fire,

"Why? Why not! Are you ok that you're going to let me die for your stupid fucking morals?"

"No, Draco…I'm…I'm not, I really wished there was some way I could help you without compromising their mission. But there isn't. I wouldn't let…"

She stopped as her voice went out, hardly appreciating the cliffhanger he shouted at her,

"What?"

Swallowing hard she continued on in a timid whisper, "I wouldn't let you die if there was another way…"

It was like she'd stuck a needle in a balloon, Draco deflated quickly. His shoulders slumped and he sank back down onto her bed and went back to holding his face in his hands. She didn't quite realize what was happening until she heard him take a quiet, shuddering sob. Her over-sized heart cracked right down the middle. Sure, he was someone she had learned to dislike his general existence, but he hardly deserved to be handed a death sentence like he did, he was so young –just a month older than her. She knew that there was something deeper going on, but she didn't dare ask. Instead she just sat there in silence, simply providing him the comfort that she knew anyone in his position would want (even if it came from someone he had been taught to hate like a pit bull was taught to fight). She wasn't sure how long they sat there in silence before Malfoy asked her a very quiet, pathetic question,

"You hate me, don't you?"

Clicking her tongue off the roof of her mouth she shook her head slowly, "No, I don't hate you, Draco. I'm just disappointed in the choices you've made. I often wonder how someone like you, someone with so many connections and money could have fallen down such a wrong path. So, I don't hate you, I'm disappointed."

He looked at her and said, "Jesus, being disappointed is worse than hating. Are you sure you just can't hate me?"

"No. It wouldn't be fair."

He laughed bitterly at the irony of her statement. Hermione's breath caught in her throat when she suddenly realized how close their faces were. When he was having his mental breakdown, she had leaned in closer and had been resting her side on his. Now their faces were hardly inches apart, and his breath hit her skin, sending chills down her spine. Resisting the urge to shiver and suppressing the thoughts of what it'd be like to kiss him she scooted away from him a few inches, trying to force down the thoughts that should never have entered her head in the first place. Swallowing she quietly asked,

"A-are you feeling better?"

Without warning he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. She hardly had time to react before he pulled away, a smirk replacing the painful frown that'd been there just a few moments before (but the smug look was hardly one that she'd seen so many times in the last few weeks, and she knew there was still something wrong). She sat there in shock as he explained,

"I could see it in your eyes. You were wondering what it would be like. Well, now you know."

Suddenly he stood up and went to exit, leaving a very shocked and very confused Hermione sitting on the bed with a stunned expression on her face. He turned to her and said,

"You know who to call if you change your mind about telling me what I need to know."

And with that he was gone –and she was thankful. He had not left a moment too soon, because the moment he was out of sight her resolve faded away and several confused emotions flooded her body. Shocked, she touched her lips and tried to wipe away the few tears that escaped her glazed eyes. Not even realizing it, she replied to his statement far too late,

"I won't be changing my mind…"

A/N: Holy crap, I was so unmotivated to write today after I lost a good portion of this chapter when my computer froze (I cried, needless to say). It's sort of a filler chapter...kind of...you know. It sets up a future budding romance...FINALLY lol. LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID, HERMIONE. YOU MADE DRACO CRY. What a bitch. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter and reviews are greatly welcomed!