DISCLAIMER: Never was. Never will be.
"There is some good in this world, and it's worth fighting for."
―J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers
The floo almost shoved her to her destination as the green flames roared in her ears. She arrived at the Azkaban Floo Terminal stumbling on her feet. It was a new invention of the Minister as one of the post war security enhancements. Only registered Ministry and Azkaban employees had the floos of their residence connected to the Azkaban Floo Terminal. The Weasleys being one of them besides herself and Harry.
She walked slowly to centre of the Terminal and it took her a while to remember where the exit was. The Azkaban Floo Terminal was what the name suggested. Held within the grey walls of a ground level terminal, it was much like the Atrium of Ministry of Magic in structure. Azkaban Floo Terminal was a magnification of a hall, where three of the four walls bore series of gilded floo fireplaces that were large enough for a troll to pass through. Looking around she saw no one and proceeded towards the exit gate. Her heels echoed in the deserted Terminal as she headed for Azkaban. Bracing herself for the end of November chills, she casted a quick warming charm on her cloak.
The wind sharply hit her heated cheeks as she walked away into the outer premises of Azkaban. Grabbing tightly at the robe around her body, she strode to the metal gates beneath the enormous iron letters reading 'Azkaban'. Four security men approached her from the entrance depots and she handed them her identification badge from her bag. Azkaban only allowed entry through the main entrance that held a series of security checks, most of which were automatic with countless wards, charms and jinxes. Along with these, were security personnel who made elaborate body searches and identification checks. She undergoes these procedures everyday for work and the guards knew her well, but night time called for extra security measure so they were more thorough than usual.
During the night, the North Sea wind habitually became all the more unforgivable. She trembled in the wind, missing the sunshine warming her small shoulders. She felt anxious as she stared up to see the moon wearing a cloudy veil and peering at her omnisciently. The glowing gold torches were the only light source about the island as the rest of it was bathed in indigo darkness.
"Here miss," said one of the security men returning her badge. Collecting it back, she moved past the men as the gigantic gate momentarily opened wide only to swallow her in. She felt the familiar ripple of security magic cast over her and ignoring the sensation she walked on ahead. The immediate arrival place was the entrance tunnel that flowed into the main building of Azkaban. Above her head was the ceiling of the tunnel that was charmed to expose the sky above like glass. The creeping moon followed her moves like a luminous shadow as she walked towards the end of the tunnel. It was a five minute walk to the ground level entrance hall that held the lifts for inter-building travels. There were torches on either side of the tunnel and she walked past them, as her unwarranted thoughts caught up with her.
Why here? Why am I here of all places?
She felt incensed at her own action in the moment of frenzied anger and grief. She could have had gone back to her apartment. Back to the warm confinements of home, having a mug of hot chocolate while watching telly. Even better, she could have had gone to sleep directly. Unfortunately, home was only her physical recluse. The essence of homely comfort could not have had saved her mind from pondering over all her troubles.
So why here?
She knew the answer but still questioned herself on the verity of her sudden decision. Work helped her keep her mind off personal problems. She could hide amongst the stacks of papers and assignments forgetting all her emotional nuisances.
Azkaban was work.
Her office was work.
Healing was work.
Patients were work.
Convict 60229 was work.
Draco Malfoy. He was the current catalyst to all her personal problems, but then wouldn't work concerning him land me in square one? She huffed dissatisfiedly to herself as she quickened her pace of walk. The universe was working in a clandestine way, affecting her to run about in a loop where she begins and ends with Malfoy. So running wasn't an option anymore. The sooner she faces her problems, the sooner she would be reprieved of this cruel circle of misery. She finally reached the end of the tunnel that ended into a vestibule. The vestibule had lifts running along each side of the walls. Striding towards the nearest lift she looked around once again to check for presence of anyone but found not a soul.
Entering the lift, she closed the screeching metal grilles and pressed the right button. The lift moved up and stopped on the designated level. It opened into the Health Department Hall that looked nothing but eerie at night time. The light from the scones along the walls casted a golden hue upon everything. The fountain with the fishes flipping in mid air shimmered a dull gold. It looked like an excerpt from a fantasy novel where beauty was abstract and mysterious beings were at work of something supernatural. The Hall was even colder than usual despite of basking under the warm glow of the scones. She walked over to the reception desk to come upon James, the new recruit.
"Hello, Healer…Granger. Yes, Granger. Miss, you work the night shifts as well?" asked James who seemed uneasy at her sudden appearance.
Smiling complacently at the boy, Hermione spoke, "sometimes. James, why are you alone?"
"Mary, the other intern? She is taking a break in the lavatory."
"Alright, James please pass me the attendance book."
Signing her name in the attendance sheet, she walked to her office through the empty PCU corridors. Unlocking it, she had the room lit up by lighting the fireplace and the scones. The fireplace grumbled to life as though complaining against her untimely intrusion. She adjusted the charms on the floo so that no one could floo call her and figure out her hideout.
I hope they don't follow me here. Not here. Please Merlin, let them be beating down my apartment door or somewhere else.
Setting her bag down on her desk, she sat down on her chair with a loud breath of aggravation. She looked down at her garments. Her dark brown robe hid her equally dark dinner party dress that flowed down to her feet. Leaning forward, she outstretched her arm and took the heels off by unlatching the straps. She curled her toes and breathed a sigh of relief as her feet relaxed that had turned red with pressure. She rubbed at her tired eyes with one hand as the other clutched her wand lightly.
I'm here. I might as well have a look at the bane of my existence.
Her fingers slowly brushed at her tear stained cheeks as her thoughts began to muddle her strained mind. She didn't know how long she had been like that until she heard the clock in her office chime. Opening her eyes tiredly she saw it was eleven. She raised herself and tapped her fingernails against the to act upon the idea, she shook her head to affirm her decision. Slowly getting up, she turned to observe the moon through the office window. A few steps and she was right up against it. The sea was shimmering dully under the lucid moonlight. The waves hit upon the edges of the island and seemed oblivious to the shift of diurnal change of time. They rigorously struggled against each other and broke upon the rocks with rapid resolve.
She could hear the whooshing sound of the wind along with the reverberating roar of the waves. Turning away, she collected her bag and put on her shoes, tiresomely. Before she could walk out, her gaze fell upon a photograph of her with Harry and Ron within an ornate frame.
The Golden Trio. Huh. The Terrible Trio, more like it.
With a bitter tsk to herself, she walked out of the office wand in hand determinedly. She went back to the reception and saw James seated beside a somber looking dark haired woman. "Mary, I would like to see the daily log of Convict 60229 please."
Mary looked at her startled, "Healer Granger! We rarely see you at this hour. Of course let me look through, just a second please…"
Hermione nodded, clutching tighter at her bag. Her mind was blank as it failed to process any new thoughts. It seemed as though her own psyche was lying in wait of something.
"Here, Miss. Convict 60229."
Taking the log file in her hand, she browsed through the daily log entries.
'Had no breakfast…was complaining…
No violent behaviour for a change…
Recuperating from wounds… didn't eat lunch…
Ate dinner… asked for wine…'
She smiled to herself. Ever the cheeky insolent Malfoy. Even Azkaban could not get to him yet. The funny thought ended with a morbid dread and her lips went downturned. "I'll be paying him a visit now. If I need help, I will send a distress signal. I am not to be disturbed. He is a convict with a fragile disposition. The healers assigned to him can leave him out tonight. I'll be looking into it." The interns nodded and she walked away, straight into the PCU corridors. Her walking pace was slow as she kept on replaying her thoughts on coming here tonight. She was embarrassed with herself. It is beneath her to seek solace in a place like Azkaban but here she was and Malfoy was the best distraction she could afford right now. Swishing her wand in silence she unlocked Ward 7 and unhurriedly walked in.
The room was in utter darkness. The dim moonlight could not force enough illumination of the room. The partially visible room revealed Malfoy lying on his back, his hands propped up beneath his head. His eyes seemed to be roaming over the clouds, visible through the window above. "I don't need to go to the lavatory. Fuck the 'thrice daily' schedule. I'll piss myself here than see your shit faces," loudly grumbled Malfoy without even turning to look. Hermione further stepped in closing the door behind her, "is that how you greet everyone, Malfoy?" He immediately sat up and squinted his eyes as he tried to look at her in the dark. He looked both puzzled and startled as his face scrunched up. Conjuring up a small armchair she dropped her robe and bag onto it. Slowly his face formed into his usual mask, "you came to kill me in my sleep, Granger?"
The cold wind blew into the room and ruffled the layers of her dress swiping across the floor as she walked towards him unfazed. Hermione ignored his comment as she stood tall before him. He stared up at her with a studious look but betrayed no other emotions. "I do sometimes visit my patients at night. It helps me to study them better when they least expect me." He sat up languidly and leaned back as a smile turned his lips, "I was sleeping, and I can't be your entertainment when I'm resting. Why not find some willing bloke? I'm sure he'll be quite happy to pleasure you tonight."
SMACK!
Draco's cheek coloured a dull red, but he didn't move an inch. He stared back at Hermione with rancor rage in his eyes and pursed his lips tight. Hermione's hand was stinging painfully as her heart beat hard against her chest. A pain rose out of hurt, anger and humiliation. She couldn't place how the hurt crept in but she was too seized up with cloudy anger to care. "you never learn do you? Every time I am here is another opportunity for you to get help and EVERY. SINGLE. TIME you screw it up!" she hissed at him angrily. Her loose curls idly swayed about her face in the lazy breeze as she stepped back and collapsed into the armchair. Resting her elbows on her thighs, she dug the heels of her palms onto her eyes and rubbed them furiously. She tried hopelessly to keep away the tears threatening to stream out.
She felt stuck. Stuck in an endless nightmare where Malfoy prowled her like a demonic presence. Her thoughts raced over her whole day and she was haplessly trying to fathom why it does not end,
The betrayal.
The shock.
The humiliation.
The hurt.
The pain.
The tears.
She didn't notice Draco sliding off his bed and approaching her with easy steps. With a sterner face than usual he grabbed her bare arms and roughly wrenched her up against his chest. She looked at him aghast, her entire body turning into ice with fear. Her wide eyes glistened with unshed tears and he stared back into their depths with steely malice. She felt warm woollen jumper against her naked arms and even warmer legs against her own. The translucent moonlight bathed them both with faint lighting. Her warm brown eyes sparkled in the darkness as they fixated on his pair of cloudy grey rings of nothingness. His health abuse had made him rather lean but his broad frame retained an imposing appearance. She felt trapped. Trapped in more ways than one tonight.
She was trapped with him in the contract, she was trapped in his case, in his words, in his moods, in his eyes, in his arms. Currently she was trapped in a battle where she both wanted to run away and stay still absorbing the scarily alluring moment. Maybe it was all the wine she had, but she was not able to shake off a flimsy feeling of attraction that kept her reasoning powers, powerless. Yet the fear was there. At that moment she was afraid of him. Afraid of him and herself. She didn't trust her senses as much as she didn't trust him. Her logical mind was blank, only panic and excitement nudged at her consciousness.
I need to run! Now!
A hand trailed her bare back, rough fingers traced her spine upwards till they touched her nape only to circle around and trace lightly down her neck. His large hand glided down to her heaving chest and lightly grazed the soft flesh of her breasts. She shivered involuntarily and saw his lips twitch upwards into a crooked smile. Her mind screamed at her to hit him square in the chest, claw out his eyes and make him pay but she stood frozen as though hypnotized.
"You come in here looking like this," purred Malfoy as he traced one finger across a strap of her dress," at such an hour, to meet a criminal like me without security and then complain when I am not nice to you?" Hermione stared dumfounded, only watching his eyes bore into hers. She couldn't gather remarks or reason. All too soon he let her go and took a step back to look at her. His eyes roamed from her feet, over her body and back to her eyes. With a resigned look he turned away and sat down amidst the moonlit part of the room with his back to her.
Her legs felt limbless, she back tracked and fell upon the armchair. Her mind was in chaos, as too many emotions ran through her. She felt angry, humiliated and mildly disillusioned. As though defeated at her own game, she couldn't find words to argue. His perspective was not utterly wrong. As the saner of the two, she felt she should have had that foresight. She looked at her arms, where his hands had been. They felt burnt with his touch but surprisingly they looked unmarked. Looking away she stared down at her dress. It was a simple floor length dress, with slim straps for sleeves and a heart shaped neckline. It had no ornamental designs or sequins. Like the dull dark red petals of a rose found between the sheets of a journal, her dress was nothing extraordinary but beautiful in all its simplicity.
Her eyes were dry now and they focused back on him. His light skin looked paler in the moonlight, and unkempt blond hair had no shine like unpolished gems. Minutes passed without any word from either of the two. She looked down at her silver watch and saw it was quarter to twelve. Heaving a silent sigh she began collecting her belongings to leave when she heard him speak again, "face it Granger, you put yourself in danger every time you come here. I am no Saint Potter and even you know that I am beyond help."
Puzzled, Hermione straightened her back. Putting aside her things she asked,"why do you say that?"
Sighing loudly he moved to brace his back against the footboard of the bed and outstretched his legs on the cold floor. He turned his face towards her slowly. She saw, he wore a glum expression making no attempt to hide it, as though he couldn't care less. "my mother might be dead already for all I know. That Death Eater might be tricking me with lies to help Bellatrix. I don't even know why you try to help. I have no evidence of what I'm trying to prove. Honestly, I'm as clueless as you are. The only truth we both know is that Astoria is dead, my mother is missing and I am here."
That was it. With that Malfoy himself spoke of all those doubts that had been plaguing her mind since day one.
If HE does not believe in this, then how can I? What am I to do now? Every door is shutting close on my face. What am I to do?
Putting her wand aside on the chair, she took off her heels for the second time. Standing up she slowly walked over to him. He looked at her with a resigned countenance and observed her seating herself down on the floor in front of his feet. Folding her legs to one side she let the dress fan about her, "so you are telling me that all this while I have been fighting for nothing? Believing in you for nothing?" She felt surprisingly angry. If what he was saying was the truth then all the pain, all the troubles she went to were for nothing. Right down to this day, to this very moment. She could have been home, having a peaceful sleep after having had surrendered the entire case to Harry and Ron and washing her hands off it. It has all come down to nothing. She watched him as he nodded his head at her with an amused expression.
So it's true then? Nothing? Nothing!
Wildly screeched the word in her mind as her face turned pink with temper and torment. She looked at him square in the face but he looked unfettered. No discomfort in his expression. Like a pale angel of chaos, he seemed to be watching her writhe with anguish. His perfectly edged face looked beautiful. No sneer of spite, no smirk of insolence. Even his silver eyes looked calm, as calm as the hazy moonlit night beyond the walls. It felt as though she was dying but the peace of death was etched on his face and that broke something within her chest.
Nothing.
"Nothing?" he asked. She could hardly see his face as angry tears gathered in her vision. He was a blurry shape of mass. She blinked hard. The tears rolled away and as her sight cleared, she saw him smile.
Draco did not have much to talk. It felt different tonight, a different set of moments altogether. He failed to talk to her but he had much to say. He was still seated on the floor, watching the girl before him. He marvelled at her as he saw a proud creature catch fire in her own flames and burn. Burn to the very ground where his feet was. He was enjoying it. He was fascinated by the play of expressions on her face. Tonight indeed was different. Hermione Granger was seeing something she should have seen long ago. Maybe a realization was dawning on her. Her Gryffindor pride was up in flames but he knew better not to underestimate the lioness. Granger cannot turn to dust, but her beliefs could. Her pride, her obstinacy, her self-righteousness could. He was not enjoying watching her hurt and rage. He was enjoying the bitter bliss he felt at knowing that a staunch blind believer of the right and the best was bowing down to the harsh realities of life.
"Nothing?" he asked softly and watched her lift her face at him. Puffy red eyes, with black rims of makeup around the edges. Her cheeks were flushed red and even more scarlet were her lips. They were tender, swollen with patches of blood red lipstick that she had not yet licked off. All in all she looked like an ill kept doll, with wild curls whipping about her face, uncared, unloved. A forgotten piece of someone's childhood. A forgotten piece of Potter's childhood. Weasley's childhood and even of his own. Yet this girl before him was not a discarded toy, she was a survivor. She survived Lord Voldemort, the War, the Death Eaters and even him. She was very much alive. Alive, angry and anguished, with tears racing down her face.
That displeased him. Displeased him enough to feel a pang of something in his chest. Pain? Pity? His own life made it difficult for him to gauge the difference.
He slid closer to her and seated himself right in front of her. Face to face. His coolness was too strong a contrast to her heated fury. She might strike me. It won't be the first time though. His mind warned him but he decided to take his chances. Granger looked every bit ready to leap at him, she opened her mouth with a livid visage but he beat her to it, "you really think it is nothing? Granger nothing is never nothing. It is more than everything. We might not have information, I might not have evidence and you may not have trust but these aren't nothing."
He saw a quizzical look appear on her face and her inferno evaporate. Her body relaxed as she stopped clawing at her own dress, "what do you mean? Is this some riddle? A game?"
"Game? I am in a prison ward of Azkaban, with my family dead and missing and you think I am riddling you?"
"I-I don't know. You never speak to me like this. You said so yourself you don't know why I am helping you. That means I should not try because it is all for nothing."
He raised one knee and rested his hand on it. He studied her troubled face and then spoke with mild exasperation, "you are angry because you think I tricked you but I didn't. You did. You tricked yourself. You thought I will guide you all throughout and you would make miracles happen and prove something. You didn't see this case the way it needs to be seen. I know of the truth that happened but not what is happening now. I am as familiar about this case as you are. I have told you everything I know and everything I don't. Yet you in despair because you find me hopeless. I am supposed to be hopeless Granger. I have nothing left."
Hermione's expression softened and she looked down into her lap, her brow scrunching with thoughts. The clouds in the sky cleared and the moon shone brighter. They both looked through the window at the glowing orb and then consequently looked at each other. Both swam beneath a net of celestial luminescence. Her long dress hugged her frame perfectly and made her look demurely beautiful. Womanly beautiful. Like something out of a childhood story of an ethereal maiden of magic. He was so lost in his envisage that he didn't hear her speak. He saw her lips move but could only stare at them objectively and ignore their purpose.
"Malfoy?"
"What?" he asked clearing his throat. He felt suddenly threatened by her closeness. He didn't like how she made him forget and how she made him remember. Embarrassed inwardly, he slid away and rested back against the footboard, "sorry. You were saying?" Giving him a curious look she continued, "I said I am not in despair. All my cases are important to me, and I-I sometimes take them too personally. That's my bad. I have always put work before life. Yes, but don't think it's because of you. You don't matter to me." Draco raised an eyebrow at this and she drifted her glance away," yes. You don't. It's just that this matter is of a mother. A parent. I have lost my own parents and I realize and remember everyday how irreplaceable they are. I swore a vow, signed a contract. I cannot watch myself fail so soon."
"You haven't failed. You need to see better, try harder. Everything isn't black and white, Granger. Not just Slytherin and Gryffindor. There's more to it. I have my limitations, so do you and if we don't work on this case together, it won't be your failure alone," he said with a calm voice," we don't know everything but we at least know something. We know a Death Eater visited me, walked right past Azkaban security and beat me up. We know he blackmailed me in my mother's name and we know he wants to extort Ministry defense secrets from you through me."
Hermione first nodded to herself and then shook her head sideways, "I want to believe all these. Trust me I do. It's just that a while back when I saw how you yourself gave up…Y-you discouraged me and said you are beyond help. I can't believe when you twist and turn everything. I need-clarity Malfoy. I need to be sure. I have taken enough risks as it is."
He tensed up momentarily only to ease into a relaxed posture. He stood up and walked away without an answer. He stood facing the wall with the window. Granger remained seated. His head ached, his mind felt like shutting down on him and a voice kept whispering insidiously, "give up Draco. She will never help you. Tell her to go. Finish it. There really is no hope." For once, that sinister voice sounded reasonable to an exhaustion riddled brain. He turned slowly and faced her. She was still seated below and was staring up at him with a hint of apprehension.
"I can't give you what you ask for. I can't help you on this. Honestly Granger now I really feel this is not going anywhere," he said with a sullen grimace. Hermione looked equally wound up. She slowly got up and without a backward glance she walked over to the armchair and put on her heels. Her bag and dark robe fell to the ground as she hastily disappeared the chair. Gathering her things in her arm, she turned gradually towards him. She tried to speak but no words came out. She seemed surprised at her own loss of words and her eyes widened. Altogether soon she spoke up, "I will bring in the contract tomorrow. We both need to sign to terminate it. The clauses won't be binding anymore and we will be free from the vow. Fr-from each other."
With her large doe eyes she gazed at him with a look of barely concealed gloom. As though watching something crumble to pieces. It looked much like disappointment. Draco didn't want to be stuck anymore to this roundabout wheel of trauma and trouble. He firmly decided to dismiss this secret project of theirs. So he agreed decisively," yes, please do that. If possible please enquire of any other healer willing to work on my case. I don't think we should see each other anymore. It would be cleaner that way."
Granger seemed crestfallen for a second or two before taming her emotions. Was she hurt? Did I hurt her? I didn't insult. Wait… She loves working so much?
She nodded and spoke with a raspy voice, "Y-you are right. I will try." She turned so suddenly that she dropped her bag and wand. Frantically trying to grab at them she almost tripped over her long dress. He tutted to himself silently and walked quickly over to the other side. Picking up the items he handed them over to her. She collected them from him but froze when their hands touched. They watched their hands for a moment or two before she quickly distanced herself from him. That both upset and relieved him and did little to make his feelings any less complicated. Unlocking the door with her spell, she let the light spill into the room. The bright amber radiance illuminated her face and her eyes looked like honey drops from Heaven. They stood there like that. For a few seconds. Each looking at the face of the other.
She didn't seem to be in such a hurry as she stood there, motionless.
"Granger. I didn't want to give up on this as much as you didn't. After all I'm getting the shorter end of the stick. Considering it's my case and my mother," he said while chuckling. She looked troubled as her eyes flickered with an unknown sentiment. Sentiment? Maybe it is pity again. Humph… forget her. Forget your last hope. And just like that, without warning bells a thought occurred to him. Maybe if…?
"Maybe… maybe I will be able to give you that clarity you asked for."
And at that Granger 's eyes widened a fraction, "How?"
"First you must realize this is my only proof. I don't know whether you will still doubt me later on but this is all I have got right now."
"What have you got?"
"Myself."
Granger first looked perplexed. Slowly she knitted her brows into a frown and said, "what in the Merlin's... What do you mean Malfoy? I have heard enough baloney for one night." Draco smiled and with a poorly veiled smug expression he said," my memories. I need you to get a Pensieve from somewhere. My memories of the events might tell you more than I ever could." As though enlightened out of the blue, her mouth broke into an ecstatic smile, "yes of course! Pensieve! Wait, you mean n-now?"
Draco crossed his arms and leaned towards her small frame, "you really asking me this, Granger?"
She smiled broader this time. Catching him by surprise she thrusted her bag and robe into his arms, "keep these. I will be back." With that she closed the door behind her and left him in a rush. Now, thought Draco with a smile. He was surprised he smiled out of no concern or cause. He smiled on his accord, with real emotions. He smiled genuinely from his heart. He won't lie to himself this time, he didn't mind smiling because of her, and that made his lips twitch again.