A/N: A huge thank you to those of you who are still reading this fic, I am sure I lost a lot of readers due to not having updated for a while, which no doubt only I am to blame.
Well anyways I just wanted to say I am happy to know some of you are still following sniffles I love you guys! It does mean a lot to me, as I am sure it also does to every other reader to know that there is someone out there liking the work we have put bits of our hearts into.
(Okay okay so now I have made it clear I am mentally and emotionally unbalanced perhaps we can continue with the story…)
"Just Draco?" she repeated smilingly
He held onto her hand just a moment longer than was required; looking into her eyes, wanting desperately to connect beyond the physical touch. Not because he needed her, or wanted her, but because it had been so long since Draco had felt anyone so genuine.
"Well," the girl took a step back, trying to resist from blushing, clearly unused to any kind of intimacy, "we should get back to this," she shrugged, waving her hand she had just reclaimed at the seemingly endless piles of letters yet to be opened.
"Leave them," he whispered, "it's late, there's no way we can finish them tonight".
"McGonagall said she would be down though," Hermione protested.
"That was hours ago, I doubt she's coming" Draco reasoned logically, "Come on I'll walk you to back to your room" the blond boy smiled, clearing with a flick of his wand the piles of empty envelopes and unimportant letters.
"It's fine Draco, I can go alone," she shrugged, moving towards the door.
"I know you can," he replied; and yet just the same he followed her down the dimly lit corridors to the Gryffindor's den. The gesture was nothing beyond the ordinary; had it been any other boy walking back any other girl to her dormitory; but the fact that it was Draco, made it almost surreal. And yet the girl was almost certain that she liked it.
She assumed not everything in life was meant to make sense. Sometimes things could happen with no reason or justification. After all, if life were a book it would one with pages missing and the ending as of yet unwritten. And in these books, no one knows why enemies collide, why lovers perish or why dragons seem so real; at least not until you get to the last line, the one which in all its simplicity makes it all look like just another matter of fateful coincidence. And make even the most peculiar of turnings seem so purposeful. The Gryffindor girl was not quite sure why life was leading her as it was, or why out of the blue a bridge which she didn't even know existed was slowly restoring itself but she was certain as she walked next to the blond boy, she felt…safe. As for the reason, well she could wait until the following chapters to find out.
"A penny for them" Draco smiled
"Hmm?" Hermione mumbled only having half heard what he said.
"Your thoughts" the boy elaborated.
"I'm sure they're not even worth that," the girl laughed at herself, rolling her eyes.
"Well now you've just made me curious how about we make that two pennies and a…" as they stepped around the corner, his sentence trailed off.
Both of their eyes widened in horror, and in an instant, any joviality evaporated and the mood did not take more than a second to cloud, for what their eyes showed them, no emotion could convey.
A scream burned the girl's throat, wanting to erupt and yet remained seemingly suppressed for her lungs felt as though they had inwardly collapsed, rendering her incapable of breath. Draco grabbed Hermione's arm. Trying to pull her back around the corner, trying to get her to detach her eyes from the bloody mess which lay before them; but she refused to move. She couldn't.
The girl stood there limp, horrified as though in a dream within which her body had been frozen and her eyes forced open for all eternity to only view only the horrors of the world.
The blond boy instinctually pulled her closer to him, trying to silently comfort her, unable to do anything else. He pulled her face onto his shoulder, forcing her to stop looking at the mess before them.
An all too familiar cat was pinned to the wall. Its guts spilling out of its mangled body; the endless crimson stained all the way down the wall and formed a puddle on the floor contrasting sharply with the pale coloring of the carpet.
His ginger fur was now horribly stained and the smell of death hung in the air in a cold and tragic manner.
Words failed him as the girl began to silently sob onto his shoulder; as she leaned on him he guided her backwards around the corner and allowed her to slither down the wall, resting on the floor. Her breathing was sharp and almost hysterical. "I… can't…" cried, holding onto the boys arm; "who would…?" she gasped, holding onto her chest as though she were in physical pain, tears freely flowing down her face as though even the ocean could not contain the torrent of tears she held within her.
"Listen, Hermione I should go get a teacher, I mean we can't just…"
Hermione's hand shot up to her mouth before he could complete his sentence, "I think I'm going to be…" and with that the girl leaned forward, and threw up on the once blue carpet of the corridor. Draco grabbed her long hair, wrapping it around his fingers, moving it from her face.
"My God Granger…" he whispered, stroking her curls as he remembered his mother once did to him what now seemed an eternity ago.
It was strange. Draco knew how to touch a girl, how to make her feel better, how to make her feel good. But never like this. Never with her.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he lifted her up, protecting her limp body, and walking her over to the end of the corridor. "Where are we going?" she whispered, allowing her body to go with him.
"To see Dumbledore" Draco replied, guiding her round yet another corner and stopping at the end to try and recollect his bearings. The boy had always prized himself as one well capable of adjusting to the most extreme of situations, and yet here he was, seemingly useless to the girl who needed him for the first time in her whole life.
"Do not move another step," came an all too familiar voice from behind them. The two students turned around, and despite the severe face which greeted them, the relief in their eyes was unmistakable. "What do you think you are both doing walking around the school at this time of night? What kind of example are the two of you setting? Detentions and late night ventures, do you really think that…" however the greasy haired man did not get a chance to continue his much un-appreciated rant for he was interrupted by the fresh tears of Miss Granger.
Snape looked up at the blond boy, clearly out of his depth and somewhat confused, "round the corner" Draco whispered, pushing the girl once again down to the floor and pointing the man in the right direction. "It's going to be all right," he mumbled into her hair, after all, in times like these, sometimes only blatant lies can comfort the confused soul.
After all, life is an unexpected tale. No one knows why things happen. No one understands why fate is harsh, why people are cold and why lies seem appropriate when the truth hurts too much.