This is such a short chapter, so I'm sorry.
I always love reading your reviews, btw. I appreciate every single one of them! I feel like I don't say that enough.
Disclaimer: I Own Nothing
Hermione rigidly sat in her chair, mind somewhere else entirely as Headmistress McGonagall continued to talk. Her eyes were trained on the Headmistress, but she did not see her. All Hermione could see was Fay Dunbar's death over and over again in her mind. She swallowed, twiddling with her fingers. If she closed her eyes, Hermione was sure that she could still hear her scream…a scream that still sent shivers down her spine.
Ever since the war had ended, Hermione had grown used to not hearing screams like that anymore. It was a scream filled with nothing but pure terror. If Hermione had to guess, when Fay screamed, she knew that she was going to die. Now, Hermione definitely wasn't Fay's biggest fan, not by a longshot, but she would never have wished the girl dead. She repressed the urge to sigh, instead looking down at her lap, eyes connecting with her black attire.
There had been a memorial service for Fay, all of the students assembling in the Great Hall to hear the Headmistress' speech. Hermione could still remember the looks on some of the students' faces. Many were bewildered, still trying to comprehend how someone could be here one minute and gone the next, just like that. Others, more than likely those who were very close to Fay, couldn't contain their grief. Their cries could even be heard over Headmistress McGonagall. Some, just a few, were very detached about it, more than likely not really knowing the girl at all, and one…
Hermione slowly lifted her head, peeking out of the corner of her eye at Draco. Even now, as he listened to McGonagall, there was something very cold about his demeanor. It was more than just being detached, in fact, Hermione would even say that he wasn't indifferent at all. He gave off an aura of what she could only describe as satisfaction.
Hermione was broken out of her spell when Draco turned to face her. Hermione blinked, suddenly realizing that McGonagall had spoken to her. She turned to face her Headmistress.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I said it appears that you won't be going anywhere. Of course, there is a third choice for Head Girl for situations such as these where the second choice…is unable to be Head Girl. However, the third choice is rather…questionable, especially when paired with the Head Boy," McGonagall said, eyeing Draco.
Hermione blinked, attempting to wrap her head around what she was saying.
"Well…what about my punishment? Surely, this can't mean that I'm getting off scot-free," Hermione said.
She didn't want to add any more guilt to that which she already had.
"No, of course not, Ms. Granger. However, I have yet to come up with a suitable punishment, so as eager as you are for it to be dealt, for now, you will just have to wait," McGonagall said, standing and gesturing for them to exit.
"Wait," Hermione said, jumping up.
"Yes, Ms. Granger?"
Hermione swallowed.
"Did they ever find out what happened to Fay? Did she fall or…," Hermione trailed off, unable to bring herself to state the other possibility.
She heard Draco heave a rather exasperated sigh. McGonagall sighed, a touch of sadness seeping into her features.
"It appears that it was nothing short of an unfortunate accident," she answered.
"They're sure?"
"Well, yes. Quite sure, actually. Even if there was even a little suspicion about the circumstances surrounding her death, the only people with motives in this school are…well, you and Mr. Malfoy, seeing as she was preparing to take your position for a month. You were with Ms. Brown when it happened and Mr. Malfoy was seen out on the Quidditch Pitch."
Hermione's mouth parted, blinking as she heard that last bit. What?
"Now, if that is all…"
Hermione nodded, turning away and following Malfoy out of the exit. She slowly followed him into the corridor, her mind going wild. Draco was seen outside? No, that couldn't be right…
"Well, I believe congratulations are in order."
She looked up at him as he walked towards her, a devilish smirk on his lips. Hermione felt goosebumps erupt over her flesh as he reached out, trailing his fingers down her arms before pulling her closer.
"Should I welcome you home properly…dear?"
She pulled away from him, shaking her head. He laughed at her expression.
"Relax. I was only kidding…mostly," he said, smirk growing.
"I saw you," she whispered.
He raised an eyebrow.
"You're going to have to be a bit more specific as to where you saw me. I get around…"
"When Fay…fell, I saw you at the top of the stairs. I find that very interesting, even more so now that I've learned that someone else apparently saw you or was with you on the Quidditch Pitch. How can that be, Draco?"
He only shrugged, frustrating her.
"That's your answer? You're just…not going to answer," she demanded.
He tilted his head, smirk fading as he stepped towards her. Hermione took a step back at the look in his eyes. It was a predatory look, one he had used before when they were…together. Then, she found it hot, now…now it was a bit unsettling.
"See, that is the beauty about…whatever this thing is between us. You're not my girlfriend, you're not my wife, and I don't have to answer to you," he firmly stated.
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips. They stared into one another's eyes, straight-faced.
"Is that all…mum?"
She exhaled, rolling her eyes at him and waving her hand, signaling that she had nothing more to say. He brushed past her and Hermione found herself shivering as his arm touched hers.
Harry heaved a tired sigh, drumming his fingers on the table before straightening up in his seat. She could feel his eyes briefly land on her before looking away.
"Guys…we've been sitting here for about twenty minutes now. No one has spoken a word. Somebody has to say something," he pleaded.
Hermione stared right at the bookshelf, opting to be the stubborn one for once. Harry had tricked her into this little meeting and she wasn't happy about it one bit. How could I have been so gullible, she thought. It took everything in her not to curse the boy who was currently sitting across from her…or the one to her left. Honestly, either one would do at the moment.
"Ron…didn't you tell me that you had something to say?"
Hermione heard Ron huff, shuffling in his seat. She didn't care what he had to say, she just wanted to get this over with.
"I'm sorry…Hermione."
"Hermione?"
Hermione laughed without humor, shaking her head before turning to look at Ron. His eyes were downcast, the coward couldn't even look her in the eyes.
"I don't accept your apology," she said before turning to face Harry. "I still haven't accepted yours."
Harry's face crumbled as he reached out.
"Come on, guys, we've been through too much together only to end up like this," Harry said, at a loss.
"That's rich, coming from you," she scoffed, eyes raking over his form in disgust.
Harry heaved another sigh, running his fingers through his hair.
"I called us all together because…because we need this. Whether it be reconciliation or…or-."
"Closure," Hermione proposed, tightening her arms over her chest.
Harry closed his mouth, swallowing before biting his lip with a reluctant nod.
"Or closure…," the word came out strangled, "…We need to deal with this, one way or another. I just want us all to get it all out, everything, right here at this table."
No one spoke.
"Fine. I'll go first. I've already said it, but I'll say it how many times it needs to be said. Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I acted and I'm sorry for what I said. I'm sorry for making it seem like I condoned Ron's actions when I didn't. I'm sorry that it took me so long, too long, to even apologize in the first place. I'm sorry for not standing by you," Harry said.
Hermione heard his words and while she was moved by them, Draco's harsher words kept replaying in her brain.
You like to believe that deep down, everyone is good, and everyone will do the right thing in the end. Guess what? That's not true, princess. Maybe Weasley didn't make a mistake. Maybe he's just an asshole. Maybe Potter isn't really sorry. Maybe he just feels obligated to apologize because he doesn't want you to have a life outside of them.
Hermione heard Ron heave a sigh. He didn't speak right away and Hermione wondered if he would speak at all.
"I really am sorry, Hermione. I know that what happened was inexcusable and I wish that I could just take it back. I was so upset about you kissing Blaise…or Blaise kissing you, whatever. I was angry and then when you compared me to Malfoy, implying that I was trying to be like…like that bastard… All of a sudden, I wasn't just angry. It was like a blinding rage took over me…like I wasn't even myself," he quietly began, voice strained.
Hermione said nothing, refusing to even look his way as he talked.
"I wanted to drop to my knees and beg you for forgiveness the minute it had fully registered what I had done, but I was too ashamed. I didn't want to see you, see how you would react to me. I didn't want to see the look of absolute hatred in your eyes…directed at me. I wish that I could show you just how sorry I am," Ron whispered.
Hermione swallowed, throat thick with emotion as she closed her eyes.
Maybe Weasley didn't make a mistake. Maybe he's just an asshole.
You let him walk all over you, it's like your resolve completely disappears.
Hermione stood, surprising them with her abrupt movement. She blinked, fighting the urge to cry.
"We can't be friends anymore," she said, the words almost tumbling out.
Harry's eyebrows furrowed, a look passing through his eyes that told her that he was not surprised at all by her declaration. Ron stood too, eyes wide, eyebrows furrowed.
"That's all we get?"
"That's all you deserve. I can't do this anymore," she shakily whispered, turning to leave.
She sped up her pace as she heard footsteps behind her.
"Hermione!"
The corridor was empty, fortunately, because she knew that it wouldn't be long before he caught up with her. Her timing was perfect, Ron had gently grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him.
"Hermione…Hermione, please look at me," he pleaded.
Hermione shook her head, using everything she had to keep from crying.
"I can't. I can't do it, Ron. I don't understand how we ended up here," she said.
"Tell me what to do. Tell me what I need to do to fix this…"
Hermione humorlessly chuckled, recalling a time when she had told Ginny the same thing. She backed away from him, finally lifting her head to look up at him.
"There's nothing that you can do. Everything has changed…"
Ron looked down, kicking at the floor.
"Harry was always a good guy. He may have been a bit impulsive at times, but a good guy nonetheless and you…Ron. You were always…solid. You were never perfect, none of us are, but you held us together. You're loyal, brave, and…and always willing to prove yourself. Despite what people say, you are smart. Even if you don't believe it, I've always known that…"
Ron was looking at her now, a troubled frown on his face.
"…and you care, so much. You may not show it in the most traditional sense, but sometimes I think that you care more than any of us. Or at least I used to think that," she said, glancing away.
"Hermione-."
"I don't know what happened. I don't know why Harry suddenly started treating Ginny like crap. I don't know why the two of you began to shut me out, replacing me with the masses of other girls who were willing to give you what you wanted. I don't know when you turned into…this," she gestured towards him "…but this is not the Ron that I thought I loved."
Ron blinked, mouth parting as he stepped towards her. He suddenly clenched his jaw, swallowing.
"Hermione…you know how I've always felt about you," he whispered.
"Have I? What could you have possibly done that would convey that to me? I liked you, really liked you and I had thought that you felt the same way. Then, all of a sudden, you're with Lavender and Parvati and Padma and Susan-."
"I get it, Hermione," he said, as if the reminder of all of his great conquests was somehow upsetting him.
"No, I don't think that you do. You don't get how that made me feel. I fancied myself in love with you and I had been under the impression that the feeling was mutual and next thing I know… All of the guys are praising you and so many girls are giving me the stink eye because they think I might steal you away. Funny, because I had thought that you were already mine…"
Ron closed his eyes, heaving a quiet sigh.
"I just…I can't be around either of you. I don't know if this is temporary, but at this point…I don't think that I care," she said, sad.
Ron strode to her, taking her hands in his, a desperate look in his eyes.
"Hermione…please…"
She shushed him, pressing her fingers to his lips, resting her other hand on his cheek.
"I forgive you, Ron, not for you, but for me. I forgive you…but it doesn't change the fact that I can barely stand to look at you," she whispered.
She backed away from him, tempted to say something else, but thought better of it. She turned around, walking away from the library, heading towards the dorm that was now hers again. The further she got away from him, the more tears she shed. She wasn't sure if this was a permanent thing or not. Then why did it feel like goodbye? More tears fell and she found herself stopping at the sight of her dorm mate, her lover, exiting the portrait.
He stopped too at the sight of her, his features pulling into a frown. They walked towards each other, well, she honestly stumbled towards him than anything else. He steadied her, resting his hands on her shoulders as he held her upright.
"Hermione…?"
His voice was deep and threatening, questioning the cause of her current state. She shook her head, bringing her hands up to curl around his wrists. She just wanted to forget, if only for a minute. She wanted to forget about Ron and Harry. She wanted to even forget about her suspicions about him for a moment. She sniffed, giving him a half smile.
"If…if I asked you to kiss me, would you?"
Draco stared at her for a few seconds, before a slow half smile of his own traveled over his lips.
"Always," he said before pulling her in, pressing his lips against hers.
"Ron apologized to me," she finally said.
She tucked her feet further underneath her, clutching her sweater to her cold frame. They had been sitting on the couch, staring into the fire in the fireplace for a few minutes now. She hadn't wanted to talk, afraid that if she started then she would not be able to stop. She heard Draco scoff.
"Let me guess…you forgave him," he spat.
She turned away from the burning wood to look at him. She stared at his sharp profile as he kept his eyes on the fire, refusing to look her way. The light reflected off of his irises, making his eyes look that much colder.
"I did, but I was still able to walk away…"
He looked at her then, grey eyes boring into her own.
"I forgave him for me, not for him. I knew that in order to let go…I had to do it right. I don't know if this is forever, but he knows that he messed up," she continued when he didn't speak.
"Is that why you were crying, because you had to let go?"
She shakily nodded, exhaling.
"I just don't know how we got here. I don't know how three of us ended up like this, how Ginny and I ended up like this, how Lavender and I ended up like this…"
They met each other's gaze and Hermione licked her lips, Draco's eyes zeroing in on the movement.
"How we ended up like this," she whispered, her eyes moving over his face.
"Well…I think we both know how we ended up like this," he whispered back with a small smirk.
She looked away as he brought his hand up to trail it along her throat.
"I think that it had something to do with you wanting to know all about…le sexe, non?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Yes, it did," she said with a smile, despite her best efforts to hide it.
He placed his finger underneath her chin, slowly turning her head to face him. Her eyes connected with his before they fluttered closed, his soft lips finding hers. Once, quickly, then twice, then finally resting there, tilting her head with his other hand. Her body suddenly wasn't so cold anymore.
How was he able to do this to her? How was it possible for someone to have so much influence, so much control, so much power over another person? She was convinced that he had smeared some type of drug over his lips because they were even more intoxicating than she remembered. She wanted to kiss him for as long as she could and that…was not good. That was not good at all.
He pulled away, only about a hairs width away before whispering:
"Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?"
At this moment, Hermione wanted to more than anything. She turned her head away, sighing when she heard him huff.
"Do you really care that much about what people think?"
Hermione shook her head.
"I…I don't know, Draco. This is all so new to me, I wish that you would remember that. You were my first and before you, I hadn't even been kissed properly," she whispered.
He turned her to face him again, his finger resting on her cheek.
"Don't think about it then. Just…do. Didn't you want to forget about Harry and Ron? That's why you kissed me, right?"
She nodded. His eyes seemed to glow in the low light.
"Good, then let me help you forget," he proposed, leaning in.
"I can't. I need to talk to you," she suddenly said, pushing against his chest.
She had wanted to pretend like this wasn't weighing on her mind, but it was no use. She needed to at least get this out of the way before she drove herself crazy. He sighed in frustration, running his hand through his hair before straightening up. He waved his hand, signaling for her to get on with it.
"Draco…I saw you. Okay? When Fay fell I saw you at the top of those stairs," she said.
Draco sighed, turning away to stare into the fireplace with a straight face.
"…and someone else apparently saw you at The Quidditch Pitch. It doesn't make any sense," she said.
He turned to look at her then, his piercing gaze colliding with her own.
"So what are you saying," he lowly questioned, raising an eyebrow.
Hermione swallowed, noticing the suddenly tense atmosphere.
"I'm just saying…that…that while I may not have been her biggest fan, you were very vocal about your strong dislike for Fay."
Draco scoffed.
"Don't try to be so political about it, Hermione. I hated the bitch…"
"Yes, exactly. Look…if the two of you got into an argument, whether it be about me or she was coming on too strong, it's okay. If you were there, just say so-."
"How about I say what we both know you want to say," he said, slowly standing.
"Draco…"
"What are you accusing me of, Hermione?"
He had turned to face her now, his frame blocking the view of the fireplace, the low light around him like a heavenly glow. Or flames of hell… Hermione looked up at him with a sigh before shaking her head. She began to stand up.
"Forget I said anything. You're right, I'm being ridiculous-."
She had cut herself off with a gasp as Draco had gently pushed her back onto the couch. He placed his hands on the couch behind her head, caging her in. His grey eyes swirled with sinful intentions as he leaned in.
"No…say it…," he hissed, eyes staring into her own.
"I said forget-."
"I don't want to forget it. I want you to say it, Hermione," he whispered, leaning in some more.
His nose brushed against hers before trailing it down her cheek.
"You think I killed her…," his words twisted around her like a snake.
"No-."
"Yes, you do. You think I, what, pushed her down the stairs?"
Hermione swallowed, a shiver traveling down her spine as one of his hands trailed down her side. She clutched his arm as it neared her thigh.
"Or do you think I tripped her?"
Hermione was at a loss for words as his fingers danced along the inside of her thigh. His knees rested on the couch in between her parted legs, his lips brushing against her neck.
"Maybe I used my wand? Oh, but no, they'd detect that. It had to have been a Muggle method," he proposed, slipping his fingers past the barrier of her underwear with ease.
Hermione threw her head back, mouth agape as he worked between her legs. The hand that was clutching his arm, meant to push him away, was now trying to pull him closer. She let out a breathy moan as he plunged the digits inside of her repeatedly.
"You think I'm a killer, Hermione?"
"No," she breathed, bucking against his hand.
He grazed his teeth along her neck, causing her heart to speed up.
"Yes, you do. You think I'm capable of cold blooded murder," he hissed just before biting into the skin of her neck.
Hermione was pushed over the edge and she clenched around his fingers with a vengeance. She panted, chest heaving as he continued to thrust his hand.
"Part of you thinks that I'm a murderer…and yet, here you are, riding out your climax on my hand. What does that say about you?"
Hermione's eyes flew open as he withdrew his hand from in between her legs. She hurriedly sat up and watched as he wrapped his lips around his fingers with a smirk. A sinking feeling settled in her gut as his words registered.
"Goodnight, Hermione."
She finally closed her legs as the sound of his door closing reached her ears.
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