(50) Days of Summer by Sugarquills007
Disclaimer: I don't own harry potter
Plot: Restoring to her sanctuary in the muggle world, Hermione Granger has completed her sixth year of Hogwarts hoping to eliminate the forces of Evil penetrating the world around her. Thankfully or dreadfully she is roped into a sudden relationship with none other than her nemesis Draco Malfoy who shares the same disgust emotions swirling in them. Forced to forget their history they join up with the help of two friends to prove their relationship worthwhile.
Previously in Chapter 9...
He felt thankful when she closed her hand around him tighter, as if becoming his rock in that very moment. He looked down at Granger's pale face and he gripped her tightly. "I'm sorry." He broke a whisper. "I'm so damn sorry."
And then they were at the white halls of St. Mungo's.
11th Day of Summer
Chapter 10 – Why
It's true hard work never killed anybody, but I figure, why take the chance? ~ Ronald Reagen
"Draco, she just moved."
"No she didn't. Stop being absurd Blaise."
"How the hell would you know? You're practically a hundred feet away."
A sigh. "Technically I'm five."
Hermione jerked her head as she heard the first of a conversation being exchanged between two. She felt her mind stop almost immediately when pain sky-rocketed up towards her temple; and instead her senses began to take over the labour for her.
A quite loud discussion including unnecessary use of profanities; sound. A
Large mound of fluff supporting her throbbing head; touch.
A waft of antiseptic leaving its tinted self on the antibacterial pristine sheets; scent.
The need for water in her parched mouth; taste.
All that seemed to be left was sight. It seemed to also be the only one which seemed to bring difficulty and pain along with it. When the voices began to rise in volume, a groan gargled its way up her throat. The voices were recognizable; she knew them from somewhere – but her mind was in too much pain to decipher which was which and who was who.
But she was met with silence. They had stopped talking. She wondered why. Then she perked her ears harder and she could hear them; fierce whispers. "Come here Malfoy."
"You're fucking next to her; tend to her needs."
"I'm not her bloody boyfriend."
"Pretend." The voice was hard and gritted as if it took too much effort to say one word. "Pretend boyfriend." He repeated his tone void of emotion. She thought she had enough energy to be able to move herself up but as she tried, she felt herself being anchored by something relatively strong but soft. "Granger?" The same voice was back. The one that spat ice and blew cold. She felt her fingers twitch in recognition but found herself unable to move it – when she tried, pain enveloped her once again. She whimpered as blonde hair, porcelain skin, static grey eyes and pale smirking lips surrounded the darkness behind her lids. "Granger can you hear me?"
"Hmm." She was able to murmur, blissfully unaware of her reactions.
"Can you…Granger can you wake up?" He questioned; his voice startlingly lower and suddenly closer. She breathed the familiar scent of him; her head lolling towards where she thought he might be.
"Everything hurts." Her words came out raspy and dry – barely a whisper and she suddenly realised how thirsty she was. But how much pain she was in too. She heard some shuffling before she felt something cool hit her lips.
"Drink." She heard a different voice say. And thirty seconds later she had finished two glasses of water. Her eyes meanwhile had fluttered open, flinching then adjusting at the clarity of the room. "Granger."
Hermione turned her head towards the person who assisted her and was met with a very exhausted-looking Zabini, with unkempt hair, slight stubble and dark eyes. "Alexis." Were the words she was only able to mouth.
He smiled a thin-lipped smile which showed the stress and anxiety of the situation. "She's…asleep." He managed to explain before he nodded his towards her right. She shifted her head to find a matt of blonde hair, skewed over her right arm. Alexis was soundly asleep, gripping her hand as if her life was on line.
"How long?" Questioned Hermione hoarsely.
"Never left your side." Blaise ran a hand through his hair and laughed humourlessly. "She managed to fall off into a doze a couple of hours ago." Hermione carefully manoeuvred her arm away from Alexis' grip so now she was petting it; running a hand down her hair in a movement that consoled her. "How are you doing?" Asked Blaise very carefully as he watched her for any sudden movements.
"Like I've had the time of my life." Retorted Hermione shooting him a small smile. "Everything hurts." She repeated in a smaller, much quieter voice. The edges of his lips dragged down and Hermione continued. "Do you think…would you mind…can you help me up?" Questioned Hermione quietly and Blaise with wide eyes relented quietly and without a fuss. Grabbing the edge of her shoulders as carefully as he could and helped her to sit up. She groaned. "Thank you." He muttered a 'no-problem' but he watched her nonetheless with masked eyes as she ran a light finger down her stomach; where she felt the rough texture of a bandage being enveloped across her torso.
"Do you need me to call the nurse?" He asked but she shook her head determinedly.
"No, I need you tell me where we are?" Even though the water had helped immensely, she still felt light-headed and dehydrated. Feeling slightly uncomfortable she shifted but flinched almost immediately when she felt the left side of her body respond with a jerk.
"We're in a hospital." Answered Blaise purposefully ignoring her pain. He knew she had swallowed her pride enough to allow him to help her up; but questioning her would be asking her to discard it completely.
"St. Mungo's?" Asked Hermione in surprise, worry and fear.
"No." He shook his head and leant on his knees. "A Muggle Hospital." When Hermione continued to stare at him as if he had grown three legs or five heads he sighed. "Where do you want me to start?" When Hermione looked at him expectantly, he sighed. "The beginning?" He phrased. Hermione nodded and he licked his lips. He ran another hand through his limp locks which seemed to have lost its normal sheen.
"Draco managed to spot the mark from your garden." He began with a slight shudder as if the whole experience was still traumatising. "He knew." His eyes were frantic and slightly scared as he looked up to meet Hermione's eyes. "He knew that you'd do something as bizarre as to check it out yourself so he – we – went to make sure it wasn't a false alarm." His words died off to a mute in the witch' ears as she watched the slow movement of his mouth, her mind relaying over the incident.
"And the room – it was bloody destructed. Splattered with blood –" Her eyes flickered back over to the Italian once again as his words turned a switch in her ears. She took in the dark flush that rose on his ridiculously smooth cheekbones, his eyes dilated in anxiety as he relived the night; his breath coming out quick and sharp.
She had remembered the cottage under the cliff where night fell upon the dreamers; a smile seeping on her face as she and Alexis followed the frenzied footsteps of their wizard boyfriends. She should have been more aware. More smart. So she should have known. She should have bloody known. She looked beside the Italian, noticing the lack of Malfoy's presence. "And then, here's the odd thing." His voice had calmed into curiosity and slight accusation. "We both felt something weird – something unusually odd – trickle down our faces to find acne over mine –"
"Blaise." Hermione interjected, hoping to cut his next set of words but it was no use, he was continuing to speak as if in a trance. "I can barely –"
"And you were bleeding." His eyes were lost. "You were bleeding so much and Draco –"
At the mere mention of her subject of interest, brought a perk to her former self and she listened a bit more carefully as the mocha-skinned wizard continued to relay the events. Blonde hair that had been merged with dirt and blood flashed past her vision, revealing the concern yet angered physique in his eyes that seemed to have begged her not to say another word against –
"And then you woke up miraculously and managed to stun Dolohov –" Dolohov? Was he her captor? "And then you fell and you were losing a lot of blood. There was so much. Draco was trying to wake you up. You did." His eyes suddenly regained back to their purple glint and he tilted his head as he looked at her. "You woke up." He said quietly as if contemplating something. "And then you were unconscious again." He shook his head. "Your head took most of the blow –" At this, the witch subconsciously reached tentative fingers to her head to feel smooth cotton bandages solely wrapped around the crown; "and you're stomach." His words drowned out once again as she once again felt the itching fabric against the welt of her gown. Timidly, she reached down through the covers and pursed her lips at the cuts that marred her arms and fingers. "And we apparated you to St Mungo's." At Hermione's curious look, he continued. "How else do you think you're injuries healed relatively fast? They transferred you here this morning."
"Wait so how long have I been…you know?" Hermione tucked a rogue curl behind her ear. "Been asleep for?"
"Two days?" Hermione's brows rose behind her hairline and Blaise nodded, as if expecting that from her. "Yeah gave us all a fright you did." He smiled somewhat kindly at her. "Alexis had a fit." Hermione looked down at her nimble fingers and sighed; she could imagine. "We had to move you to avoid any questions." When Hermione looked up, the dark thoughtful Slytherin was back. "Don't get me started on your parents." Hermione's eyes widened and he immediately began to correct the error. "Alexis solved it." He assured. "You know how she is singularly gifted at lying –" They both smiled at this. "They have been here every moment of the day to expect you sitting up. Your mother nearly suffered from a heart attack when these basted doctors mentioned something about a coma?" Hermione laughed breathlessly, finding it easy to swallow the pretence than to blow reality away.
"And Chloe?" She questioned with a small smile on her face.
"Now that you mention her." Blaise shot her a wink and turned around to hand her a small card and a bunch of lilies. Hermione's nose wrinkled in distaste at the flowers she wasn't too particularly fond of but smiled nonetheless at the thought. She opened the card and began to read its content when Blaise continued. "But Alexis never left your side." She blushed and put the card down – forgetting her manners in that moment. "Neither did, well neither did Draco or I."
She placed the card on her lap and reaching across, she took in Blaise' smoother hands in hers. "Thank you." She murmured in thanks before letting go. When she stumbled across his baffled look she grinned weakly. "This is the part where you say, 'you're welcome'."
"You're thanking me?" His voice was suddenly detached and cold, and she shrank back in surprise. "After everything you find it acceptable in thanking me?"
"From the looks of it –you've handled things very well." Hermione said softly. "You've done a lot – more than I could have asked for and I –"
"Yes but what about you?"
"What about me?"
Blaise sucked in a breath as if controlling his wildly out-of-control temper. "You risked your life knowing how valuable it is right now in the war." Hermione winced. "You did it for us." The emphasis on the last word didn't go unnoticed by Hermione. "We, who've belittled you and picked on you so much that we're considered your enemies – and you saved us." Hermione whipped her head to him, her eyes flashing; he looked deep into them. The gold and green and brown. "Granger, not even our own fathers would take an unforgivable for us."
"I'm okay." She nodded. "I didn't break anything, thankfully nor did I have any serious internal bleeding or memory loss." She looked up at him with sincerity splashed across her face but missed the shot of pain that flickered past his eyes. "Please don't think much of it – really. It's not that much of a big deal." Then she looked closer at him; peering at the dark circles under his eyes and frowned. "How long have you been awake?"
His eyes shot up in surprise at the authority behind her voice. "I don't know – we –" When he caught her surprised look he continued. "It's nothing to worry about."
"You're going to make yourself ill if you continue." She said in a reprimanding tone. "My waking wasn't too important for the lot of you."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you it was." Said Blaise in a gruff voice.
"Look." Hermione said slightly uncomfortable. "Please, please think nothing of this." She whispered. "This doesn't change anything –" At Blaise' open mouth she continued. "I'm serious – this doesn't. I don't want to have to make you think that you repay me in any way or that you're in debt to me." Blaise opened his mouth to object when a new voice interjected their conversation,
"Well we definitely know her eye sight is poor since she hasn't noticed me standing here for the past five minutes."
The unmistakable richness of his tone ought her ears to a tingling mess as his smooth voice hit her ears on a high note of harmony. Melodic yet exhausted. His voice was gruff, as if he had just spoken after a thousand years of silence; scratching against the bob of his throat. Her eyes zoomed past the room's core for it to land on the boy who leant against the door frame. She eyed his appearance and felt herself deflate into a delectable mess as she took in the messy limp of his hair that had also, along with Blaise, had lost its pale sheen with the ravenous unkempt strands; as if it had been run through in scavenging thoughts; to the hard edges of his face that glowed a murky grey under her scrutiny and she frowned with worry as she took in the purple bags beneath the eyes that held all the dark secrets of pain and misery. Despite the welcoming company that surrounded her, she felt her inner-self tip as her tired gaze locked onto his controlling ones.
The lovesick feeling every teenage girl would feel was not there in terms of what she felt when she saw the wizard; but one of despair, excitement and fear mixed with newly found attraction.
The denial she had determinedly held onto within herself – inside herself – had now been unlocked with the actions she had shown that day along with the acceptance for her brain to catch up with her heart and admit the feelings of being magnetised towards the coldly reserved boy. He was still an arrogant sod – no doubt about that – but it was then of her mother's informative morals slipped into her mind.
There are always two stories to one situation, no matter how incredulous it may seem.
Watching him now through fluttering lashes, she upon the insight that he wasn't Draco Malfoy – the same Malfoy she had met on the train to Hogwarts when they were a mere eleven years of age. He wasn't the same Malfoy who taunted her with filthy names and insults. He wasn't that Malfoy who tuned himself sick in the task to murder an innocent man who seemed to have struck a nerve within him. No, instead Hermione Grange found herself watching a frown boy worrying himself over a girl he had supposedly shared a large history with. She saw a man, who she knew to have found her as intriguing and mystifying as he did to her. And it was the awareness of it all that scared her to the bone.
She knew what it was to fall.
To fall for one in a daisy crush; Ronald Weasley was the finest of examples. She would find herself smile for the stupidest reasons; like when he swore with such integrity or his lack of senses that humoured her or the occasional; his eating habits. But they were juvenile things to fall for. Girly things. Naïve things.
But this was a whole lot different. Most girls would throw themselves at boys, trying to be noticed with their short skirts and padded bras. For Hermione Granger, being who she was was her most important image. Being called a bookworm, nerdy and such; thought at times it would get too much to be a compliment – it was her. It was her being seen as who she supposedly was. She was sure she didn't like the blonde Slytherin to that extent to be able to revolve her appearance and actions around him – no of course not, she had her dignity – but the attention he managed to grasp out of her was illogically different. His appearance didn't send off much of a difference in the attraction she felt for him thought it was four of the tenths that fascinated her towards him – but it was just plainly him that transfixed her in getting to know a little more about the boy who made all the wrong choices.
His arrogant manner did confuse her greatly along with the pride that seemed to be filled with far too much ego; along with that extra pinch of dislike that somehow appeared when mention his father or anything based upon the Slytherin customs. Or the smirk he had originated charmingly. She wondered if he still had that smirk, in the velvet tissue of his mother's womb. The smile that she had managed to catch a flicker of once – rarely shown – but there all the same.
With him, it was attempting to find the door to freedom through a very complicated maze. But that was the thing – either she found a way to the next route or a dead end that seemed to cause more problems as she tried turning back. He was this puzzle that was far too complicated to understand. Perhaps that was how it always was – filled with many obstacles. Targets upon targets to be shot in order to get into the core. But what if it was nothing? What if it was just lasting cobwebs and the sound of her hope shattering into thousand tiny shards of glass? But that was the thing wasn't it? That's what made the thing enticingly beautiful.
"Malfoy." She greeted with a weak nod and an attempt to smile at him which failed as it resulted in her dropping her contact with him as she blushed.
"Granger." She tried to hold in the sigh that wished to be freed when he murmured her name before the pregnant whist of silence followed. She was watching him intently through the space between her lashes as his demeanour faltered when he opened his mouth to exchange a couple of words – but found himself deluded from speaking.
With an internal sigh at his lack of courage to engage small talk with her, she did the honours. "How are you?" She asked tucking her hair behind her ear.
He seemed to be stunned at her boldness to speak first but nonetheless cleared his throat. "Better than you I'm sure." He remarked dryly watching her carefully.
A laugh escaped her. But it was followed with a cringe, her free arm wrapping itself immediately around her torso. What's a bit of pleasure without pain? But with watery eyes she looked up at the blonde whose eyes had narrowed in caution as he watched her. "What have I broken?"
Being broken was nothing compared to feeling broken.
He watched her with guarded eyes; her bandaged crown leaning against the fluff of the hospital pillows; her face glistening with perspiration, her eyes fighting to stay conscious, her mass of curls hanging limp around the frame of her face, her voice – the naïve tone that breathed fire – had managed to hammer him to the floor.
He watched her with worried eyes; her bandaged crown leaning against the fluff of the hospital pillows, her face glistening with perspiration, her eyes fighting to stay conscious, her mass of curls limp around the frame of her face, her voice – the naive tone that breathed fire – had managed to hammer him to the floor.
Walk to her. His subconscious told him and he subtly ignored it and pushed it to the farthest part of his mind; it usually brought up bullshit ideas anyway. He looked at her, his eyes made to condescending but holding concern as she looked at him in pain. He opened his mouth but now words came out. Banging his head against the wall didn't seem like a bad idea. He sighed. "A couple of broken ribs," he began in a low voice, the wound above your stomach has healed but you have to be careful. Oh and a concussion to the head."
He saw her cringe at the brief description and he felt his fingers twitch beside him. And then suddenly as if noticing the drop in the atmosphere, she picked herself back again; returning to the norm. "Did mum and dad visit today?" She asked quietly and Blaise nodded.
"In the morning." He assured. "They dropped off some pie." He said in a hearty tone and Hermione smiled at him in gratitude for helping lose the weighty awkwardness.
She nodded her head towards Alexis. "How long has she been asleep for?" She reached over to continue petting Alexis' hair finding some newly found strength in doing so.
"Going bloody mad at the thought of you heading into a coma; I'll say it's the longest she's slept in three days." Answered Malfoy, his face tight, eyes – the colour of left-over puddles in the pavement – flickering over Alexis' form once. Then twice. He watched how her heavy breaths hit the sheets on Granger's bed and was momentarily fascinated before his eyes landed back on Hermione again. "She fell asleep a bit after your parents left."
He remembered. He remembered vividly as if it had just occurred; the conversation he had shared with the Muggle after discharging Granger from St. Mungo's and moving her to the Muggle Hospital. He could recall how she was lost – losing her edge as if she was succumbing to insanity. Her eyes were drawn out, nails bitten to the core and cheeks swallowed on.
"Tell me she's going to be okay." She tugged mercilessly on his sleeves as thick tears – the size of raindrops on a harsh September Wednesday – fell down her face as her friend was parted from her gasp by the medics. "Please tell me they'll fix her." She continued to plead and his eyes – eyes that were dead – looked down at her with a mixture of revulsion and pity. "Tell me that she's going to wake up in a couple of minutes and be smiling and laughing and calling you an arrogant sod –"
"She –" He began tiredly when she suddenly convulsed, screaming next to him.
"No!" She shrieked, ignoring the turning of heads their way. Flushing in slight anger at her lunatic-like actions, he grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her over to the empty seating area and sat her down. "Don't lie to me." She continued thrashing against his hold. Then she suddenly stopped, her body going limp under his hold and when she looked at him through her eyes, there was hate. Pure hate that shot straight down to his core. "Your magic did this." She said in a low monotonous tone and he shook his head. "You lie." She spat in revulsion. "You…" she cowered away from him and raised a shaking finger. "You…you…" she continued in malice. "Your magic almost killed her –"
"Yes and our magic was the one to save her!" Bellowed Draco back, eyes flashing defensively. She stopped, the occasional hiccups escaping her lips as she looked at his dishevelled form. He looked at her in almost defeat and shook his head. "I thought Blaise –"
"I don't care what Blaise told me right now." She said in a pleading petulant tone. Her arms began to shake. "I only…. Hermione –"
"She's going to be fine." He replied. "It's not a coma." He said seriously. "Our doctors have confirmed –" At her look of disbelief he continued. "You know it's part of her too." He said softly. "You may hate me and Blaise for it – but can you hate her for it?" He lifted his head and looked straight into her eye. And she swore she could have seen something die within him. Perhaps the fight? "Magic is part of her identity. You questioning it would be like questioning her." He felt the beginning of the shakes start and he walked slowly towards her.
"She looked dead." Her voice barely made it out and he stopped a couple of inches away.
"I know." He let it escape. "But you she wouldn't have wanted her best friend to cry over her because of a little accident –" He realised too little too late that he had said something terribly wrong.
SLAP.
His left cheek stung and Alexis looked at him, red hot fury blinding her. "Little accident?" She questioned in a quiet voice. "A little fucking accident?" She cried rising her hand to hit him again but he wouldn't let it.
"I fucking know better to say it was a little accident!" Growled Draco. "I said that is what Granger would have said!" He shouted and she shrunk back, turning back to the scared little child once again. "Fucking hell –" He laughed bitterly. "I know this is far from little." He ran a hand through his hair before he dropped to the ground, leaning his head against the wall for support. He didn't care about posture or reputation. All he cared – all he knew was that his heart was beating far too fast and he wondered if it was going to burst out of his ribcage. All he wanted was sleep. Blissful, ignorant sleep where this didn't matter. "She needs rest." He managed to say quietly when he registered Alexis' whimpering. "The healers have done all they can." He continued. "Now it's up to Granger's body to do the rest."
He felt her shrink down beside him and he shuffled a bit to the right so she could lean against him for support. He could already feel his blood-soaked shirt get filled with snot but he couldn't care less. She gripped onto his t-shirt and bawled her eyes out. "She's going to be okay." She continued repeating and he occasionally, murmured it with her.
"It's Granger." He said sometime after her sobs had died down. Her frail arms were wrapped around his torso and she closed herself into him – as if hiding. As if he was the only thing preventing her from going mental, "We can't get rid of her that easily." The wall opposite him had a strip of tiles stuck across with a mosaic pattern. He had counted fifty-six in each one of the tiles. "She's strong." He reassured Alexis and felt her head nod beneath him.
"Very strong." She added on.
"She'll make it." He continued as he felt her breaths slow down. "She'll make it – I know." He repeated.
"You like her." It wasn't a question more of a statement and he wasn't up for putting up a fight so he just let her ramble on; his ears only half listening to what she was saying. "You're attracted to her." She said. "That I know of." He felt her heads grip his t-shirt tighter. "When she was bleeding to death – the look on your face – you looked as if –" She trailed off knowing no words could describe the haunted look that must have appeared on Draco's face. After all, he couldn't figure out what he felt, either. So they were on the same page.
"Nothing good will come out of this you know." He said minutes after her declaration; after her words had sunken in – making a bubble around them. He counted the seconds till Blaise returned from calling Granger's parents.
"You can't fool anyone you know." Her voice had an odd calamity to it – as if the old Alexis were back. As if nothing had happened and they were just two people talking about a slightly meaningful topic. "Least of all yourself." She reached over to take his much larger hand and squeeze it gently. "Some good can come out of this." She said in a quiet voice. "You just have to believe it will."
He glanced down at her; glancing at the wet face, sore eyes and bruised forehead. Then he snorted and looked away as if her words were just meaningless trinkets. When he felt the next round of tears begin to fall; he held her closer – tighter – waiting for Blaise to come and whisk her away from him so he could think in peace.
You see Alexis was the conscience of it all – he would say later on. He and Granger were just the pawns – they followed the rules and daringly took a step left or right. Laughing or biting one another at a wrong move. Blaise was the adjudicator; watching the whole thing for a fair play. And then there was Alexis – the conscience. The sole – the heart of it all. But also the devil. She would stroll in and show the easiest way through or the harder way. She would add rules – stir in a bit of anger, jealousy and questions and she'd complete the game. She decided what went on and what went off – but she was just the advisor. And that, in his eyes – was the most dangerous and lethal of people to have in your game of deceit and pretence.
The memory faded as soon as it appeared; leaving a wide gap in the centre of him for everyone to see. He suddenly felt self-conscious and he glanced up when Blaise stretched and smiled. "Well I'm off to inform your parents that you've awoken from your beauty sleep." He humoured lightly and Hermione smiled at him as he walked away – not failing to shoot Draco a warning look before he was out of the door leaving silence – their new best friend – to settle in beside them.
"Well you look as if Halloween threw up on you, in this lighting." Hermione peered closer and grimaced. "You look horrible." She said and he lifted his gaze to look at her. Humour twinkled in her tired eyes and his brows drew in at her nonchalance. She pointed towards the chair that Blaise had occupied minutes ago and he shook his head. He noticed her brows also draw in but she shrugged it off as she placed a wan smile on her face. "So will you fill in the gap for me while I was –" She began as if everything was normal. Her tone, thought tired, was back to its chirpy bookish self.
As if nothing had happened. And somehow her reaction cracked the sheet of armour he held to control the situation as calmly as possibly. There wasn't a similar feeling watching the person you once sworn to hate for eternity, smile at you after risking their life for yours, and act as if nothing had changed. As if nothing had broken and the both of them were okay. But that was the thing wasn't it? Everything had changed. Everything had broken. Funny how he expected more damage and destruction – the sound of foundations breaking and groaning – but it was all silent. He guessed it was one of those things. Just like how she broke him.
"Why?" He cut her off harshly; his voice deep and guttural. She stopped and looked at him appalled at his rude interruption but said nothing. Absolutely nothing. He looked straight at her – his eyes reminding her of wet slate. "Answer me." The emotional turmoil he had endured stirred with stress and her battle pains were welting at the edges of frustration. How could she not see he looked the same?
"Well if you give me a question that I can answer then –"
His laugh was so dry she swore it crackled in the small room and she winced. It was dark and filled with mirthless amusement. "Here you are; the famous Hermione Granger," he began in a taunting voice, conversing with me as if everything is alright –"
"Forgive me if I'm wrong." Gritted out Hermione, her eyes flashing. "But everything is alright, is it not?"
He looked straight at her – his eyes stone cold and the pallor of his skin turning a greyish-blue. She could see the outline of a vein throbbing at the juncture of his neck and she waited with baited breath. "Do you need to me say it?" He gritted out and she could just make out how hard it was for him to spit the words out.
She lifted her chin and raised a brow at him. "I want to know why?" He growled out. And she saw it unleash. The hidden monster – the green monster. It was always lurking there and all this time it was waiting. It was waiting for its chance and it found it. It was a nasty little bugger but it had its moments. "I want to know why –" He repeated. "Why you decided to give your damn life for us." And his voice was pleading with her and she felt everything break after she'd thought she had finally built it.
That was his destruction. He wanted foundations and grounds – everything collapsing – so why couldn't he hear it? Everything within her falling down after careful consideration of how to build it. "I don't want to talk about it Malfoy." She whispered softly, looking away so he couldn't catch her hurt.
It was ironic wasn't it? How she looked for a decent shed of emotion from him and when he did manage to let it escape by mistake, she was never looking. He felt something shrivel within him – like that flower that had bloomed. Well he had locked the light for the three days and it was its time for it to die away – shrivelled and old and ugly. As if he had given it something rotten to eat.
Malfoy.
It was back to square one.
"And why not?" The anger was more profound. The monster was larger, wounded and coming out again this time with a longer lasting fight. His nostrils flared as he stared down at her and he didn't fail to take note of the gold twinkle that escaped her eyes leaving it a muddy brown.
"I'm really tired Malfoy." Began Hermione quietly. "I will talk to you about this –"
"No." Draco cut of stubbornly. "I need to know." He said and Hermione's eyes snapped to his with surprise at the need behind his words.
She seemed to consider with hesitance before the rejection hit him square in the face – like a brick. Or like in that movie – Home alone when the bratty kid drops an iron on the idiot's face. It felt like that but substantially worse. "No." She echoed his words. She looked up at him and he noticed them filled to the brim with salt water. "I just don't want to relive the events that –" She broke off as the words died at her throat.
"In Thomas' house." Draco finished quietly and Hermione eyes widened in surprise. Draco flinched and mentally berated himself. Stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid.
"Dean?" Hermione whispered, horrified. Draco nodded and looked away. "But…what…how?" She stuttered and he sighed.
"We found his father dead." He said quietly. "Reckon he's been taken with the other lot." He explained averting his gaze from her. When he dared look back silent tears were falling down her cheeks and she was determinedly looking through the small window beside her bed. When she started to shake he shuffled on his feet.
"Granger." He called out uncomfortably, clearly not ready for yet another handling of emotional distress. She turned herself away from him, allowing her limp locks to create a barrier between the two of them. With a sigh he walked towards her and leaned in close till he was on his knees; his palms gripping the edge of her bed. "Granger look at me." He ordered and she shook her head. "Granger," he warned softly and he waited as she slowly turned her wet features to him. "Why do you care?" He asked.
"Dean." She shook her head not being able to converse well. "They took Dean." She whispered. At his open mouth when he put two and two together she shook her head. "No." She chastised through tears. "He's a friend." She blurted out her face contorting in pain. "It's not fair." She cried. "He wasn't horrible. He's just a boy. All of us – we're barely adults and we have to fear for our lives?"
A breath, Draco never knew he was holding, escaped his mouth. The rejection tasted bitter on his tongue but relieve balanced it out. "Oh." He said. She looked away from him and he looked down at his hands, gripping the edge of her bed so tightly that his knuckles were white. "Granger – you saved my life." He stated, echoing his earlier thoughts.
She had composed herself in a way that wasn't right. Her eyes held certain bleakness to them and he suddenly wished for the gold. For the spark. "I know." They were going in circles. She knew what he was expecting that's why he said nothing but watch her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath ignoring the smell of antiseptic creating a blanket around her. "Because," she shrugged, looking away. "You're not bad." She finished lamely. She stole a glance at him but his head was bowed now, as if he was listening intently. "You're not the same boy I met seven years ago." She continued. "You've changed." She said and her eyebrows drew in, in thought. "Somehow."
When he looked up with questions on his face she shrugged. "I don't know." She said, annoyed at her feeble explanation. She locked her gaze down to her twiddling flingers that shuffled nervously in her lap. "I guess you have more potential than what I'd expected." She whispered shyly.
"Is that why you did it then?" He didn't want to say it. Is that why you saved me? His pride was broken and damaged enough for a life-time, making it worse wouldn't do well on his health.
She looked at him properly now. Her eyes held all the sincerity and certainty he had ever seen from her before. "Even if you were my worst enemy," she began quietly, "What sort of person would I be to sit there and watch them fall to their death?" She looked at him, her face serious. "It's not stupid morals or any Gryffindor rubbish you think – it's humanity Malfoy." She said softly. "With everything going on, where does the faith come from?"
"But you surrendered yourself." He said, the monster shaking inside of him as he registered her kindness to anger. He was supposed to die that day. A small part of him wanted that. For it all to end. It was selfish – yes. But did you expect anything less from him?
Hermione smiled – a knowing smile a mother would usually give a child when they'd ask something terribly naively. She smiled a sad smile as she looked towards the sleeping blonde beside her. "Anyone would do it for the ones they love." She said softly.
Her words rebounded off of him. The monster had eaten it instead. And he found it rubbish. Absolutely fucking rubbish. And he stood up, raging. "I don't need your blasted pity." He hissed, eyes flashing the colour of coal. It was weird she would think. They would cloud over like a blanket of smoke yet you could still decipher the shine. The light.
She looked up at him calmly, confusedly. "I'm no pitying you." She said, her voice controlled as she watched his kindness quench and his anger flare.
He scoffed and she flinched at the harshness of it all. "You bloody are." He pointed a shaking finger at her. "You could have done it. You bloody well could have." Her eyes dipped in concern at his sudden anger and he felt everything quake. "You could have left me and Blaise there to our deaths." He scowled.
"You could have done the same." She replied softly and she watched as his mouth clamped shut. "You could have run off with Blaise and left me and Alexis with Dolohov. You could have run away at the sight of Dolohov." She said quietly. "But you didn't. You stayed." Her eyes looked up at his beseechingly. "When I surrendered myself, you intermitted stopping me from doing so."
He took a step back as if she had just slapped him and she thought he'd walk away but he was back and in her face. "Not one week ago, you wouldn't have cared if some lunatic drove a car over me and now you're concerned?"
"I could say the same about you." Hermione countered coldly but then her eyes softened and she sighed. "I would never have meant ill towards you."
"Stop it!" He bellowed and she cowered back into her pillow, afraid of all this pent-up emotions that had been eating him away. "Stop it with your Hufflepuff talks!" He cried and she sat up a bit more, slightly afraid. "Stop looking at me as if I'm wounded or stupid. Just tell me!" He growled. "Just tell me why and that's it – I'll stop buggering you."
His eyes held all the defeat and she looked down at her fingers. "I did it for the same reason you prevented me from surrendering myself."
Their best friend, who had causally strolled away when the angst erupted, came back with a smirk and settled itself between the two of them. Hermione shifting uncomfortably and Draco panting at her honest words. And then he looked at her and his eyes were so bright. Like the greyness of the moon's image taken by the satellite and all the liquid mercury they could get hold of. It swam with fears and pain and confusion and she knew – she knew right then that the little monster – the monster that bit her hard with words found its moment to escape. Once. That's what its job was. To come in, create a dispute like a catalyst and then walk back leaving lingering silences and unasked questions.
And then he spoke, his voice a million miles away from here, detached and emotionless. "I just didn't want you to save me."
She felt her mouth move on its own accord and when she spoke to him, she knew her words would be ringing in his ears from today onwards. "Ditto."
Yup their in debt towards one another. This makes things a little bit more complicated...does it not? Or am I just barmy. Yes it's complicated, got it. :) Thank you for all the lovely reviews. You all are awesome.
Reviews are Slytherin smirks.
~Sugarquills007