Chapter 21
...in which all hope is lost.
The corridors of Hogwarts were usually silent and peaceful during breakfast time. The only sound that could ever be heard was the occasional low hum of the portraits conversing with each other, or perhaps an echo from within the walls.
As Blaise raced along, his feet hitting the ground, the loud cracks of his hastened footsteps on the stone floor and the sound of his sharp breaths broke through the peace and tranquillity that could normally be found on this morning hour. All he knew was that he had to find Hermione.
He had been so certain that Draco would man up when the school found out. Almost positive of it. Or maybe, deep down, he had been positive it would never happen, and that's why it was better to get it over with now. It seemed that the latter was exactly what had happened.
Blaise wasn't sure what he had expected of his friend. But he at least thought he would show his face. He hadn't though. Somewhere on the way to the Great hall, while Blaise was distracted by the whispers of passing students, Draco had slipped off somewhere and left Hermione to face the judgement and hate-filled comments on her own.
He'd most likely gone back to the dorms, probably cursing Nott the whole way; perhaps cursing himself. Draco wasn't trying to lie to himself; he had never assured Blaise that he would be there for Hermione if things came to this. He had only said he cared enough to forget about her blood; not that he cared enough to forget that others cared about her blood.
Sometimes Blaise was so angry at his friend for being like he was. Only Draco would deny for years the obvious attraction he had to Granger, and even when the truth came out, only then would he deny them both happiness by refusing to let go his prejudices.
But still, it was stupid to blame Draco for all of this. At the end of the day, it wasn't his fault he was born into a strict pure-blooded family who forbade him from seeing anyone whose blood was not as pure. Perhaps if Draco had been born into a family like Blaise's, where parental influence was scarce; maybe then he would be a better person.
Blaise shook those useless thoughts from his head and he raced along the empty corridors. There was no point in thinking about that now. The past couldn't be changed so easily. Draco was who he was. He had the strength to change his views, now he just had to have the strength to fight for them. Strength he clearly didn't have; not yet.
As Blaise's steps slowed to a quick walk, he peeked down adjacent corridors hoping to spot a head of curly hair. He couldn't see her. Where had she gone?
He found himself wandering toward the girl's bathroom, somewhere he had found Hermione hiding once before. It was somewhere she might've run to, especially if she were crying. No one ever went into Myrtles bathroom. The ghost had a tendency to become emotional at even the slightest comment.
As he neared the bathroom, he could hear a loud sobbing coming from it. It wasn't Myrtle, however. Hermione must have run to the first place she knew would give her some peace and isolation from the judgmental stares and glares.
As Blaise pushed open the door to the flooded bathroom, the sobbing stopped abruptly, and he heard one of the stall doors being pushed shut in a hastened attempt to hide from the world.
"You don't want to come in here," a high-pitched voice sang from above him, looking far too pleased about the situation, "she's crying louder than me!"
Blaise ignored Myrtle as he stepped forward, standing in front of the closed stall he knew Hermione was hiding in.
"Hermione," he called, his voice soft, "please come out."
He heard her sniffle. "No. I can't face them, Blaise. Did you hear what they were saying?"
Her voice was nasally from her sobbing, and shaky from holding back the flood of tears that were yet to be released. He sighed. It hurt him to think that either way, whether they were exposed or not, this was how things would've turned out eventually.
"You don't have to face them alone." He told her, in what he knew was a useless attempt at comfort, "You've got me, and Luna. Ginny will help you, too. Even Potter and Weasley will kick anyone's ass if they make a comment."
She was silent for a moment; the only sound was the occasional sniffle coming from behind the door. "He's not here though. It shouldn't be up to you to help me, it should be him and I supporting each other. He's not here."
She broke down into another round of muffled sobs, hiccupping occasionally. Blaise's heart clenched once more with guilt. Should he have just let them have their secret relationship?
"Hermione," he began, his voice filled with determination, "please, you need to understand that this is the first time Draco has ever done something for himself. You make him happy. Happier than I've ever seen him. He's not used to having to fight for things he wants because his father usually just hands them to him." He sighed, "You're the one thing he wants more than anything, and he just has to get over the initial shock of it all. Then he will be here with you."
Blaise wasn't sure whether that was actually true. Sure, Hermione made Draco happy and he was used to getting everything he wanted with no hassles, but was he really willing to give up his reputation, his safety, and his money for her?
Blaise only hoped he would be willing to make such sacrifices; otherwise Hermione would never be his. That was if she ever forgave him for this.
"He's not here now, Blaise." She reiterated, ignoring his previous words. They were pointless to her. "I needed him now."
She did need him, and he wasn't there. That's what it came down to.
Blaise stayed in the bathroom with Hermione for the first two lessons of the day. Eventually, her tears dried up, her voice steadied out, and she opened the bathroom stall. Her face was red and blotchy from crying, but the fact that there were no fresh tears was a good sign to Blaise.
"Are you sure you want to go to class?" Blaise asked as she headed toward one of the sinks and began washing the dried tears from her face.
He wanted her to be strong, and fight for herself. The students, especially the Slytherins, would attempt to rip her apart over the recent news, but Hermione had to stand strong. She had no other choice.
She nodded, as she dried her face with a paper towel. "I can't just skip all my classes. That would draw more attention to it. At least Draco will be getting hell too, for associating with filth."
The way she spat those words took Blaise by surprise. She was bitter and resentful. Draco would have a lot of explaining to do, if he ever cared to explain. Right now he was missing somewhere. Blaise doubted that he had even been to any of his classes that morning either, or if he would show up for any at all that day.
"You aren't filth, Hermione." Blaise said, catching her eye and forcing her to look at him, "You know the ridiculous views that Purebloods hold. You knew the consequences that came with dating one. It's not just Draco who has to accept a lot of things for you two to be together, you do too."
She stared at him for a moment, as though she weren't really seeing him. "I was willing to give up everything- in fact, I did give up everything. All for a few silly, empty promises."
"Just give him some time-,"
"If I don't get time, neither does he," She snapped, her eyebrows furrowed, "He should be here, facing this too."
She ran her hands through her curly hair. "I knew all along he would let me down. I did. I just didn't want to believe it."
Blaise didn't know what to say. Draco was his best friend; his brother. He would always be there for him. But in this situation, it was Draco who had let her down. Hermione had shown her face, knowing there was a good chance people would know about them; he hadn't.
In this situation, Blaise knew he had to give Hermione the support that his best friend should be. He knew Draco would want him to. Draco had accepted long ago, that when it came to serious situations, he was often gutless.
He was a Slytherin for a reason, and Hermione was a Gryffindor for the same. She had the courage that Draco sorely lacked. It was almost funny that a few months ago she had none, all because of the same boy who had brought her out of her shell.
Draco could make her happy and hurt her at the same time. Right now he was doing a very good job of the latter.
"It'll work out, Hermione," Blaise assured her, trying to sound confident in his own words, "It will."
She gave a small nod, her eyes on his. "I have no other choice but to make it work."
With courage Blaise knew he could never possess, Hermione left the bathroom that lunchtime with her chin up ready to face whatever the students of Hogwarts could throw at her.
Unfortunately, that first thing was pudding and potato salad from the Slytherin table at lunch time.
In their haste to punish the offenders, the teachers had taken their eyes off the Gryffindor table long enough for Ginny to send a bat-bogie hex at 3 of the culprits. It had managed to put a smile on Hermione's face for a small moment. However, when Luna caught her eye, the smile slipped and she realised that because of Ginny, Luna doubted her relationship with Blaise. Hermione wondered if the blonde had yet mentioned anything to the Italian, but assumed not, considering the smiles he was sending her as a few of his fellow housemates ran out the doors being chased by their own bogies.
He didn't even notice when she looked away without returning the smile.
In that small moment, Hermione felt guilt for being nice to Ginny, as though she were betraying Luna. But as Ginny turned and began helping Hermione clean off her food-stained robes, she let go of that guilt for the time being, and was just grateful that she had someone to stand by her.
With everything that was going on, she completely forgot about the problem between Blaise and Luna.
The first lesson Hermione attended that day was Ancient Runes with the Hufflepuffs. Fortunately for her, the House didn't seem to care much for gossip, and she was left relatively alone. That is until she heard the familiar sound of a seat scraping beside her, something that she hadn't for a while.
She glanced beside her to find the wary face of Wayne Hopkins, eyeing her as though she were some explosive device that may detonate at any second. Those looks were just as bad as the scowls.
"I'm not going to get beaten up if I sit near you, am I?" he asked, his tone playful, but still with a hint of wariness.
Hermione rolled her eyes and looked purposefully ahead at the professor writing the lesson on the board. "Since when are you afraid of Draco?" She asked the teen who was still staring at the side of her head.
Hopkins didn't answer, but merely sat there for a moment. "You know, I could tell that Malfoy always had a 'thing' for you, at least when you and I were dating," Hermione resisted the urge to correct him on that point, "But I really didn't think you were stupid enough to give him a chance, Hermione."
She glanced sideward at Hopkins, her temper flaring. However, when she saw only concern and worry in his features the feeling sank and left a heavy weight in her stomach. Even Hopkins knew Draco would hurt her, and Hopkins was definitely not the fastest broom in the shed.
"You know," the blond boy continued, "if I hadn't have seen it with my own eyes, that night at the Halloween ball, I would be thinking the same as the rest of the school."
Hermione turned abruptly to face the boy next to her, her concentration on writing her notes gone.
"What do you mean?" She asked, forcefully and a little too loudly. A few students around them turned at the sound. "What does the whole school think?" She said more quietly.
Hopkins looked a little hesitant to pass on the news; obviously he thought she'd already known what the whole school was saying.
"Uh, well, they don't actually think you and Draco are together, Hermione." He said, his voice quiet and wary.
Hermione furrowed her brow. What was he on about? "Yes they do. I heard them at breakfast this morning, Wayne; it's all they were talking about."
He nodded in understanding. "Yes, Hermione, but they don't think that you were actually together. The reason the Slytherins hate you, and no one is even talking about Malfoy, is that, well, they think you're lying about the whole thing. They think you made it up, like you're trying to ruin Malfoy's reputation." Hopkins rolled his eyes at this. "Either way, no one believes that Malfoy was ever actually with you."
Hermione stared at him for a moment, before sinking into her chair, and turning her head forward the stare at the professor. She wasn't listening, however. Her thoughts were a million miles away.
The whole school thought she had made it up.
What had Nott said to give them that impression? When she found that boy, she was going to stick his wand somewhere unpleasant.
She wasn't sure whether to be angry or upset that the school didn't think it was true. They now just thought she was a pathetic 'mudblood' trying to get some attention, like Draco would never look twice at her in reality. In reality, he really shouldn't have, but reality to Hermione had become weird quite a while ago.
"Great." She muttered to herself bitterly. Not only was Draco not there for her, but he was also getting played as the victim of a lying mudblood. She felt her quill snap in her fingers.
"I believe you, Hermione," Hopkins assured her, eyeing her hand with a wary expression. She was sick of those expressions. "I've seen firsthand that Malfoy had some obsession with you. At least, well...at least that's one person on your side, right?"
She nodded slowly. At least someone believed her. Somehow that fact didn't make her feel any better. One person out of hundreds. Those weren't good odds.
"He's a coward, Hermione. If he's not here facing this-helping you- then he's a coward."
She nodded again, staring at the broken pieces of her quill as they sat on the table. Yes, Draco was a coward, but she still loved him. Despite this, she still wanted him. A part of her still held hope that he might change.
It was ridiculous, really. She had honestly thought in the midst of all the scowls and dirty looks that Draco would step forward, pull her into his arms and tell them all that he loved her and that her blood didn't matter.
What kind of deluded world had she been living in?
This was the real world, where blood did matter, to the point where it had gotten people killed. Draco's father had been a known supporter of Voldemort, the biggest believer in blood purity. Self-preservation was a basic instinct, and Draco knew that his relationship with Hermione was tempting fate. Of course he wouldn't be there.
That didn't make it hurt any less, however, and it didn't make her any less angry. As understanding and empathetic as Hermione was, something had broken between them, something that would always be there. She knew now that he didn't really see her as an equal; he wouldn't fight for her.
She grabbed the broken quill and waved her wand towards it. The pieces joined back together and it looked almost as good as new, except for a small crack where it had broken before.
That would always be there.
Blaise sat at his desk in potions that afternoon waiting for Hermione's arrival. He'd had quite a difficult day himself, and he could only imagine what Hermione's had been like. The whole school thought she was a liar, trying to tarnish Draco's reputation. What a joke. In that moment, Blaise was angry at his friend for not being there to set the rumours right.
Blaise, himself, had received the brunt of his housemates that day. After dodging a few nasty hexes in the corridors, and being called a 'blood-traitor' multiple times, Blaise was not looking forward to going back to the Slytherin common room that night.
Potter and Weasley sat at the desk next to him, each of them were just as exhausted and fed-up as Blaise.
"I think we'll have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight," Potter muttered, as a particularly nasty scowl was directed their way from one of their housemates, "I don't particularly fancy being hexed while I'm asleep."
Blaise glanced at Potter. The boys' hair was messier than usual, and his glasses were on crooked, a sign that he'd had a rough day. Weasley merely sat with his head resting on his hand, glaring at the other Slytherins across the room.
"I'm surprised you two were even willing to get involved," Blaise commented, remembering the boys' previous animosity for Hermione. It was funny how quickly that had changed.
Potter shrugged, "Granger's not too bad. I just wish Draco wasn't being such a git. Maybe then I wouldn't have to keep casting shielding charms on her when she's walking alone in the corridor. I'm bloody exhausted."
"So you've been keeping an eye out for her then?" Blaise asked the boys. He had put it upon them that morning to make sure Hermione got to her classes safely whenever he wasn't around to do so himself. He had also given Neville the same responsibility, which he was likely struggling with at that moment.
Potter and Weasley both nodded.
"Not a single hex has gotten through. She's probably surprised that everyone's been going so easy on her," Weasley chuckled.
They were momentarily drawn from their conversation as Nott entered the classroom, and immediately the three boys' eyes narrowed on the teen. Nott, however, barely noticed the glares as he took his regular seat with Culver.
"That arrogant git," Weasley muttered darkly, "I'd like to give him a taste of every single hex I've blocked today."
Blaise couldn't help but agree. However, it was also their fault that this had happened. They had purposely thrown the game. Hermione was having hexes thrown at her left, right and centre because of them. They had to make sure she was ok, at least until Draco turned up to set the record straight. If he ever set the record straight.
"Nott's always been a git," Blaise pointed out, "I just wish this whole situation hadn't of happened. I just wish Malfoy would've never gone for Hermione if this was how it would turn out."
Both boys turned to him with shocked expressions.
"You really think that, mate?" Weasley asked wide-eyed. Blaise nodded.
"But you were one of the people who was pushing them to be together," Potter chimed in with a confused expression. Blaise nodded again.
"I know that," he admitted with a sigh, "But back then I actually thought that Hermione could change Draco-and she has-but not enough, obviously. All their relationship has caused is a bunch of crap for both of them."
Potter was silent for a moment. "Well it's a bit late for that sort of thinking. I guess if we had've let them continue on in secret they might've been ok. But at least this way they aren't lying to themselves. This is what would've happened eventually, because I doubt Granger would want to be a dirty secret forever."
Blaise nodded in agreement. He had shared the same thoughts. "You're right. Throwing the game was for the best. I just hope things start going better." He looked towards the door with annoyance. Where was Hermione?
"I'm sure they will, mate, as soon as the whole school knows the truth," Weasley said, as he turned to continue scowling at a boy across the room.
The Potions door swung open once more as Professor Snape stepped into the room. He was followed by a very satisfied-looking Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode and another two girls. Blaise watched the door for more movement, and his worry only increased when neither Neville nor Hermione entered after them.
"Where do you reckon they are?" Potter asked, voicing Blaise's worry. The Italian didn't answer as he stared suspiciously at Pansy.
"...it was worth the detentions," she was telling a fellow Slytherin, "You should've seen the look on that Mudbloods face when that hex hit her." She giggled at the memory, "Her pathetic friend, Longbottom, he was too late with that shielding spell. It's what she deserves for making up such horrible things about Draco."
Blaise felt his face grow hot with anger as he listened to Pansy. That stupid idiot. Of course she would take it into her own hands to protect Draco's reputation. It seemed she hadn't quite realised that Draco found her to be horrible and repulsive.
The chair scraped loudly on the floor as Blaise stood abruptly. The whole class turned to look at him as he left his desk and walked out of the Potions classroom, ignoring Snape's angry threats of detention as he went.
He walked swiftly out of the dungeons and up the stairs until he came to the doors of the Hospital wing. He pushed them open, and his eyes immediately fell onto a bed at the far end where Hermione was sitting, surrounded by Neville and Madam Pomfrey. The latter seemed to be tending to a head wound.
The group didn't hear him approach as he strode over. He paused next to Neville, who turned to him with an apologetic expression. He obviously felt responsible. Blaise couldn't help the swell of annoyance at the boy. Couldn't he block one jinx?
"What happened?" he asked no one in particular. The nurse and Hermione turned to him, surprised at his sudden presence. Hermione's had a large gash on her head that the nurse was cleaning off.
"Mr Zabini," the nurse berated glancing at him with a strict expression, "you should be in class. Now, off with you. Miss Granger will be fine."
"Tell me what happened first," he prodded, not taking his eyes off the large laceration, "What did Pansy do?"
"It was a tripping jinx," Neville provided, "she fell and hit her head."
"Why didn't you block it?" he asked Neville, barely containing his frustration. The boy opened his mouth to explain, but he was interrupted by Hermione.
"It's not Neville's fault, Blaise," she said strongly, "I was bound to be targeted by everyone after all this. I'm surprised only one person tried." She said wryly.
Blaise couldn't bring himself to inform her that a lot more then that had tried to hurt her. He would prefer to let her believe otherwise.
"I think I'll have to inform your head of house about this, Miss Granger," the nurse said, her voice full of sympathy, "the events of today cannot merely be ignored. If you're unsafe within the school, something must be done."
Blaise wondered why they had never done anything before, back when Draco was a constant problem for her. Perhaps his father was more influential than they realised.
Hermione nodded as the nurse finished healing her cut. "Ok."
The nurse inspected her work, before handing Hermione a potion. "Take this for the pain. I'll let Professor McGonagall know that she needs to have a talk with you."
Hermione nodded, before downing the potion in one gulp. The nurse looked pleased as she turned to Blaise and Neville." I'll give you five minutes, and then you'll have to be off to class."
She left the three students as she entered her office. They stood silently for a moment, before Blaise spoke.
"Are you really ok, Hermione?" he asked, trying to examine her face for any signs of distress, "I'm sorry for what happened."
Hermione shook her head with a wry smile on her face. "It's not your fault Pansy Parkinson has it in for me. She thinks I'm a liar, just like the rest of the school." He saw her eyes flash with some unknown emotion.
"We know you're not a liar, Hermione," Neville said in the way of comfort. She gave him a small smile. It was nice that he would try to cheer her up.
"You guys should probably get back to class..." She said after a moment, "I'll have to borrow your notes."
"You're not coming?" Neville asked, wide-eyed. It was unusual for Hermione to skip classes, and she'd already skipped two that morning.
Blaise could understand why she wouldn't want to face the class.
She shook her head, trying to plant a smile on her face, "No...I think I'll just go and lay down in my dorm for a while. I'm a little shaken up still."
The two boys nodded in understanding. "I'll see you after class," Neville said as he turned and headed toward the door. Blaise gave her one last concerned look before he too exited the hospital.
Hermione let out a sigh, before gathering up her bag and heading upstairs to the Gryffindor dorms. When she reached her bed, she immediately dropped her bag and flung herself into her pillows. She couldn't fight the tears that stung in her eyes as she thought about the day she'd just experienced.
Hermione had never been subject to gossip, nor was she ever noticed. The only people that ever payed attention to her had been the Silver Marauders, because of Draco. Other than that, she had been an anonymous character in the school. She hadn't been pretty, or popular, she'd just been 'book worm Hermione'.
She hated this. The constant looks, glares, whispers. For the first time in her life, Hermione missed being in the shadows. She missed being in the background.
Damn Draco. Where was he? Was he hoping if he stayed away things would die down? If he did he was stupid. He had to come back and face this sometime. He was the 'victim' in the school, but he would not be getting it so easy with Hermione. Did he even still care for her anymore?
Suddenly a weight around her neck felt heavy and electric against her skin. The necklace. She had been wearing it so long it had almost become a part of her.
She pulled the silver chain out from under her jumper and stared at the silver shell swaying from side to side above her. In all honesty, she was scared to put it to her ear, in case there was nothing. A deafening silence that would speak louder than words.
After a few moment of silent contemplation, she willed her courage and grabbed the silver pendent in her hand. She slowly brought it to her ear. She was immediately soothed by the most beautiful, melodic music she had heard.
She let out a relieved breath. He still cared. Somehow, in all the horribleness that had happened today, that seemed to be a silver lining. Some sort of hope.
She drifted off into blissful dreams of stormy grey eyes and alabaster skin, all the while keeping the small silver shell to her ear.
She woke abruptly to the sound of muffled voices sometime later. The room was far darker, and as her consciousness came back to her, she recognised those voices as those of her roommates.
"...obviously a lie. Draco can get any girl. He dated Ginny Weasley, for goodness sake; he wouldn't lower himself to Hermione. She's not his type." That was Parvarti Patil.
"Hermione's a bookworm. I think she's still a virgin, too. I know Draco wouldn't waste his time on a virgin. I mean, look at him!" That was Lavender.
Hermione felt her eyes prick again, this time with angry tears. Why was it so hard to believe that Draco might like someone like her?
She made a show of closing her eyes and rolling over, and was pleased when the gossiping girls fell silent immediately. She sat up, ignoring their stares, and glanced out the window. It was dark. She must have missed dinner. Oh well, she didn't have much of an appetite anyway.
She slipped out of bed, not bothering to acknowledge the girls around her. She was still in her wrinkled uniform from earlier that day, and her hair had returned to its natural frizz.
She left the dorm a moment later, not bothering to fix her appearance. It wouldn't matter. Anyone that came upon her would stare regardless of whether or not her hair looked like poodle fur.
She only had one idea of where to go, the same place she had gone many nights before. Well, before today happened and tainted those memories. The secret room on the 7th floor wouldn't be the same, but despite the hurt she would feel facing it alone, it was much better that the stares that would bore into the side of her head if she stayed in her dorm.
Couldn't these people just get over it?
Perhaps Madam Pomfrey was right. Maybe it would take a while for all this drama to die down. Even though it was only the first day, Hermione was sick of it already. She knew the Slytherins would not forget easily, and despite the fact that they were the house most active in everything, she could see the judgemental glares of the Ravenclaws and the superior stares of the Hufflepuffs.
They all thought she was a pathetic liar. How wrong they were.
She continued up the staircase to the fifth floor, and found herself pausing on the landing. It was probably the worst time to reminisce, but she couldn't help it. This corridor reminded her of Draco.
The way he had pointed his wand at her, and sneered at her like she were the bane of his existence. Perhaps she was the bane of his existence. He was certainly hers, now.
She sighed and continued walking.
Draco hadn't been spotted in school all day. Was he hiding away, fearing that the rumours wouldn't be quite so beneficial to him? Hermione didn't know; however, whenever she thought about the events of that morning, and Draco's absence, she only found herself getting angry with him.
He should be here.
She turned into the 7th floor corridor, barely registering her surroundings as she strolled along. The closer she got to her room, the more anxious she felt.
Why had she come here? This was a terrible idea. Despite those sentiments, her feet kept on, and she found herself turning the corner into the corridor where the painting of the troll ballet was perched on the wall.
As soon as she made it around the bend, her feet faulted from underneath her, and she found herself nearly falling onto her face on the stone floor.
She was not alone in the corridor.
In front of the wall where the door would appear, a lone figure stood, leaning against the wall. There was no mistaking the tall frame, lean muscles, marble skin and silver hair. It was Draco.
She regained her balance by placing a steadying hand on the wall next to her. The figure kicked off the wall, and came towards her, hands in pockets, head down.
It was funny how all her good memories of Draco were abolished the moment he abandoned her that morning, and all she could think of now was the person he used to be. She had to consciously remind herself not to run away or pull out her wand as he came closer.
His face appeared in the light, and Hermione gasped out loud. His eye was bruised. Perhaps not everyone believed the rumours the way they had been told. Perhaps someone else suspected the truth. She wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad about that.
"Hermione," he began. His voice was raspy, as though he were close to losing it. "I'm sorry."
Well, that was rather to the point. She didn't know what to say. She had expected to be able to yell at him a bit before he relented so easily. She wanted to yell at him, to scream that he was a liar, a ruse. He'd tricked her, hadn't he?
"Where were you?" She asked, trying to keep her voice level. "I haven't seen you all day; no one has. Did you just leave me here to deal with this myself? Do you know what everyone thinks?"
He looked at her with a pained expression. She wasn't sure if it was from guilt, or actual physical pain. Why did he look such a mess?
"I was going to be here. I was."
Hermione crossed her arms defensively, her eyes prickling. Damnit. Don't cry.
"You weren't though, were you? You ran away like a coward."
That seemed to spark something in him, and his head shot up, his eyes filled with a fire Hermione had never seen. "I'm not a coward." He ground out, "I was going to be there, I was right behind Blaise, but it seems that Pansy felt the need to inform my father last night, before she moved on to the rest of the school."
His eyes went empty as he spoke, and Hermione stomach sank. Oh Merlin. She had been her blaming him; cursing him...
"It seems that Lucius Malfoy can't make it to his son's birthdays, or Quidditch games, but give him a rumour like that and he's there in a second." He chuckled wryly. "He took me back to the manor for the day, just to...converse."
Hermione's stomach felt even heavier with guilt. She had been complaining about a few nasty glares, and one stray hex, she didn't even want to think about what Draco had suffered from the hands of his own father.
She suddenly remembered the rumours, no one thought Draco was involved, so why did his father?
"But the rumours," Hermione began, her brows furrowed in confusion, "the rumours are saying I just made it up. Why doesn't your father believe that?"
Draco gave her a plain stare. "Who do you think told Pansy to spread those rumours instead, Granger? My father would rather that, then the truth."
Hermione stared at him for a moment. She had been blaming Nott for those rumours, but it seems Pansy was the source. Of course she wouldn't want Draco's name to be tarnished like that. Nott, on the other hand, had no reason to spare Draco's reputation in those rumours, if anything, he wanted to ruin Draco, and Hermione was just collateral damage.
"So...your father knows about us?" Hermione asked. She wasn't sure why that was the question she wanted to ask.
He merely nodded. Hermione wondered what this would mean for them. As though sensing her fears, he answered.
"He told me not to see you anymore..." he looked her square in the eye. "It would be for the best. You're not going to be safe while you're with me."
Hermione stared at him for a moment. Was he really saying this? She swallowed thickly.
"It's not up to you to decide that for me," she argued, "I'm quite capable of looking after myself."
He sighed. "Hermione, if my father finds out we're still together, he won't go after me. It'll be you. Do you get that?"
"I get it," she snapped, bristling at his tone, "I'm just saying, is this really about me, or are you just considering this a lucky escape? No one knows about you and I if you leave now."
He looked taken aback at her accusation. "Do you really think that's what this is about?"
She shrugged, keeping a cool demeanour, while silently panicking on the inside. "I just find it odd that you spend a day in your father's presence and suddenly you're worried about my safety. That didn't bother you before. And just for the record, my safety is already affected." She caught his eye, her voice filling with sincerity, "Ending this, us, now, makes everything pointless. It all would've happened for no reason."
He stared at her for a moment, as though he no longer had an argument, and was merely giving up.
"I'm not like you, Hermione," he began, his voice sounded weak, like all the fight had left him, "I'm not some courageous Gryffindor. I want to be with you, I do, but...I'm not ready for everything that comes with being with you. I can't stand the torture from my father and housemates. I got angry before when you called me a coward, because you're spot on. That's what I am."
Hermione could only stare at him as he spoke. The fact that he seemed so willing to give up hurt her more than if he were to get angry and yell about it. That's what she thought would happen. They'd yell, get their feelings out, and then they'd make up. This was different.
He was giving up.
"So, that's it?" she accused, anger getting the better of it, "You're just opting out, leaving me to put up with this by myself? You said you loved me! We- I-I gave you everything!"
She choked back the lump in her throat, and hated herself even more for being so weak while he seemed incredibly unaffected. She flinched as two warm arms wrapped around her, and immediately she pushed them away.
"Don't touch me!" She cried as a tear ran down her cheek, "You don't have the right to touch me anymore!"
"Hermione, please-,"
"No," she snapped, fixing him with a glare. "You haven't changed at all. Deep down, you're still the same selfish, self-serving idiot who would hex me months ago. Why don't you just do us both a favour and go back to that?"
She was pleased at the expression that adorned his face at her comment. He looked wounded; now he may know a fraction of the hurt she felt.
"Hermione, we don't have to be like this," he began, moving toward her, "I've been thinking. After school, I'm going to leave here. I'm going to go to France, where nobody knows me...where nobody knows you. We could be together, and it wouldn't matter to anybody."
Hermione couldn't believe it. She almost let herself get swept up in the words he was saying. They could be together, soon, and it would be nobody's business but their own.
"And what happens until then?" She questioned. He swallowed thickly.
"Well, we would just have to wait until then-,"
"Are you ashamed to be with me?" She questioned suddenly. The words were out before she even realised what she'd said. He looked confronted.
"No, I'm not," he assured her, "I'm just trying to do what's best for us."
She was growing frustrated with this conversation. "Why don't you let me have a say in what's best for us? You've made all these decisions, but who says I agree with them? I want to be with you, Draco, now. I don't care what people say or do. It doesn't matter to me." She sniffled, "I think this is really about you. Deep down, you know that no matter how many times you told me my blood doesn't matter to you, it does, because you don't want people judging you for being with me. I think that's what's stopping you."
She could see by his expression that she'd hit the nail on the head. But she also knew he would never admit that, whether it was so he didn't upset her, or so he didn't cause irreparable damage between them, she didn't know.
But she knew that to him, she would always be inferior.
"I'm not-It's- You're nothing to be ashamed of, Hermione." He assured her, his voice softening along with his expression, "You're smart, and- and beautiful. You're everything that I have wanted for years. But this is a lot bigger than judgement and hate. This is our safety- our lives- on the line. When school finishes, I'll get some money together and we'll leave. We don't have to face these people again."
She stared at him for a long moment. It would be so easy to give into her desires, say yes to his plan, and blatantly ignore the reasons why they needed to be a secret in the first place.
However, Hermione had dignity, and despite everything, self respect. Draco was telling her to forget that her blood mattered to him, to forget that she was a Muggleborn. That was not possible. That was who she was. And if he loved her like he claimed, he would accept her for that.
"I don't want that, Draco. I don't want to do that."
They were the hardest words she could have said, because they were a complete lie. However, they needed to be said. She would never be able to forgive herself if she didn't.
He looked confused, hurt, and surprised. "But, Hermione," he urged, "that's the only way we can really be together."
She hated that he was really that blind. "No, it not, Draco. If that's the only way I can be with you, running and hiding from the people who know us, then I don't want that."
He stood listening intently, his eyes never leaving hers. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm her heart beat and perhaps dislodge the lump that had just returned to her throat.
"I know you love me. I do," She continued, her voice quiet, "But I love you in a completely different way. I love you because of your faults. Your snotty attitude, your short temper, the fact that you have a tendency to bully people. I love you because of those things."
He stood there, looking unsure of where the conversation was headed.
"But you, you love me despite my blood, despite the fact that I'm not popular, not a Slytherin, not rich. The thing is, these things still matter to you, some more than others. But at the end of the day, you can't be with me completely if you're intentionally trying to ignore the fact that I'm a Muggleborn. It'll come up one day, Draco. Running from it won't help."
He opened his mouth to argue, but she silenced him with her hand and continued.
"I just don't think you love me enough. If you did, you wouldn't even consider being ashamed of my blood, just like I'm not ashamed of your bad qualities."
She finished feeling better for the fact that she said what she really thought. Draco, it seemed, was not expecting that, because he had nothing to say. He merely stared at her as though he wanted to argue back, but deep down he knew it was all true.
He loved her, but not enough.
Everything caught up with Hermione quickly. The emotions she thought she had successfully banished were rising in her throat. She needed to get away before she did something ridiculous like take back everything she'd just said.
"I've got to go," she said, hastily, "I don't think there's really anything more to say."
She turned on her foot, and began to stride back the way she had come. She heard footsteps behind her.
"Hermione, wait! We can work something out! Please, just stop."
She didn't even fault in her steps at the fact that for the first time, Draco Malfoy seemed to be begging. Or the fact that, for the first time, his voice wasn't steady and confident. It shook.
"I'm sorry," she said earnestly, before slipping down another corridor and onto the seventh floor landing. She looked behind her one last time. Draco was standing there in the darkness of the corridor, looking at her as though the sun had just left the earth's orbit.
She swallowed thickly, and walked quickly in the opposite direction down the staircase. He didn't follow this time.
By the 6th floor landing, the lump in Hermione's throat had become too much, and she finally relented. She tried to muffle her sobs with her hand, but it was no use. They echoed around the staircase anyway.
It was times like this that Hermione wished she didn't share a dorm. She couldn't possibly walk back into her room sobbing like a maniac. That would only fuel the flame of rumours.
The only place that she could think of going was the prefect bathroom on the fifth floor. That would provide her with some peace and a place to sit until her roommates were certain to be asleep.
It was just a shame it brought back such horrible memories.
The fifth floor corridor was empty when she entered it; the only sound was her breaths leaving her lungs in shaky pants.
She didn't even want to think that she and Draco were over, despite the fact that their conversation could only be taken one way. She would be ok, she tried to convince herself.
She had been perfectly fine before Draco came along, and she'd be fine without him. Sure, the whole school thought she was a liar. Yes, they were trying to hex and intimidate her. But besides all that it would be ok, right?
"Look! It's the lying little mudblood!" A shrill voice echoed from the other end of the corridor.
Crap. Perhaps not.
Hermione didn't even have to look around to know who that horrible voice belonged to.
Pansy was coming toward her, devilish grin on her face, flanked by two other Slytherin girls. Hermione considered running for a moment, but realised they had their wands out and would most likely hex her along the way. Perhaps she could talk them out of whatever horrible punishment they were planning.
She realised a second later, as a spell ricocheted off the wall beside her head, that she was wrong. She dodged the hex, and fell on all fours on the stone floor, hearing a loud crack from her knee as she did. That would bruise.
She pulled out her wand from her robe pocket and cast a shielding charm just in time for another spell to rebound back at the group of girls. They scattered away from the red light as it came shooting back at them.
"You stupid mudblood! That singed my robes!" One of the girls growled at her.
Hermione looked up from between a curtain of curls to find that the girls sleeve was burnt from where she hadn't quite been fast enough.
The girl looked livid. Hermione almost scoffed, as if she didn't have another one-or twenty- in her closet.
"I think we should teach the little mudblood a lesson!" Pansy sneered, "Make her think twice about making up lies!"
Hermione had to laugh at that one. "I think you know the truth Pansy." She goaded quite stupidly, "Don't be upset that Draco doesn't like you, it's not your fault you're an insufferable, whiny brat."
The two girls, who were flanking Pansy, looked at the girl between them with wide eyes, obviously waiting for instruction. Pansy's face had grown red with anger and she was gritting her teeth.
"He obviously doesn't want you, mudblood!" She shot back, before flicking her wand in quick succession. Hermione blocked the spells successfully, but as the other girls joined in, her energy was becoming depleted.
She took advantage of a break in their hexes to send a stunning spell at the group. The girl on Pansy's left wasn't quick enough with a shielding spell and fell backwards, unconscious.
Unfortunately, Hermione had left herself open for too long and a spell hit her arm, causing a large cut to appear. She hissed in pain; it was her wand arm. She had no choice now but to run from the two girls, so run she did.
She had only made it a few feet before she ran into a tall figure that had obviously heard the commotion, and had come to see what had happened. Hermione, in her haste, managed to fall flat on her stomach on the stone floor. All she could see of the person in front of her was their shiny black Dragon-hide dress shoes.
And a green trim of colour around the bottom of their robes.
Oh crap.
She was surprised however, when the figure moved past her, and actually shielded her from the girls who were behind her, cackling at her previous fall.
Maybe, just maybe, Draco had followed her. She attempted to push herself up, in order to see, but merely hissed as her arm throbbed in pain.
"What the hell are you doing?" A low, aristocratic voice sounded out of the silence. Hermione's heart sunk. It wasn't Draco, but merely the smart-ass, insufferable git known as Theodore Nott.
"We were just having some fun Nott," Pansy whined, as though he'd broken up a party, "she deserves it."
Hermione heard Nott scoff. "Does she now? I think you know full well that she doesn't. Merely because you're a jealous twat doesn't mean that she deserves anything."
Pansy was silent for a moment. "You're the one that told me to tell people!" She argued back.
Hermione already knew that.
"I told you to tell them the truth, Parkinson," Nott said, his voice full of exasperation, "not some little made up lie because you can't stand that Malfoy doesn't want you."
"He does want me! Our parents are already making plans for us to be betrothed! You just wait!"
Hermione could imagine Nott rolling his eyes at the girl.
"Get out of here, before I take points, you idiot." He merely said, as though he couldn't stand to be in her presence any longer. Hermione didn't blame him.
"Blood traitor," Pansy hissed at the boy as she passed. Hermione could hardly believe it. Nott was hardly a friend of Muggleborns.
Hermione heard footsteps pass by her head a second later, and she knew the girls had left the corridor. Thank Merlin.
"Are you just going to lie on the floor like an idiot all night?" She heard a snarky voice ask from behind her. Hermione tried to control her annoyance for the boy; he had just helped her after all.
"My arm's cut," she ground out as she attempted to push herself off the floor. She heard a loud sigh behind her as two hands grabbed her arms and yanked her off the ground.
"Hey! Do you have to be so rough!" She cried, as she attempted to steady herself.
"I would have done it more gently had it not felt like I was lifting a full-grown Hippogriff," he said simply, "You really need to lay off the deserts at dinner, Granger."
Hermione scowled at him, before crossing her arms in front of her stomach self-consciously. "You really are an ass."
"Always," he said with a large grin, "What are you even doing walking around at this time of night anyway? It's not safe for you, you know." He said in a condescending voice. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"I know that," she said haughtily, "I was merely sick of my roommates. Everyone just keeps staring at me."
He nodded, looking uninterested in her plight.
"Well it is your own fault, Granger." He said simply. Hermione sputtered indignantly for a moment. Her fault?! How was it her fault?
"It's not my fault!" she cried, "It's yours! You're the one who told everyone!"
He merely shrugged, "And you're the one who believed Malfoy would declare his love for you in front of the entire school." He shot back, effectively silencing her, "This all started the moment you began feeling more than hate for him, Granger, and you know it."
She hated to admit that he was right, but he was. She could blame Nott all she wanted, but at the end of the day, her ignorance was what had gotten her into this in the first place.
"What's this?" Nott began, his voice full of mock disbelief, "Hermione Granger had nothing to say! Surprise, surprise."
She sent him one of her nastiest scowls.
"Hey, hey," he scolded, "let's not get nasty. I did just save you from getting your head hexed into a pineapple."
"I doubt they'd even have the knowledge to do that," Hermione informed him, haughtily.
"That's true," he agreed, surprisingly, "Pansy's an idiot. I'll have you know, if I had my way, it would be Malfoy getting hexed in every corridor, not you."
Hermione looked up at the boy, eyes wide. "Is that some weird version of an apology?"
He looked uncomfortable. "Merlin, no. It's still funny to watch you fall flat on your face." He chuckled to himself a little.
Her expression returned to a scowl. "Of course, you'd love seeing the 'mudblood' put in her place wouldn't you?" She spat.
He rolled his eyes, as though she were overreacting about something. "It's not that at all Granger. Your blood doesn't even bother me. I merely just get amusement out of this sort of thing."
Hermione let out a rather unladylike snort, which Nott raised an eyebrow at. "You're telling me you don't care about blood purity? Ha! You've called me a mudblood, and you're a Slytherin! I may have fallen for Draco's lies, Nott, but that doesn't mean I'm gullible."
Nott rolled his eyes. "I'm not explaining myself to you, Granger. Just get to bed before I take points."
She gave him a queer expression before turning on her foot and heading toward the staircase. Nott was a strange guy, but perhaps he wasn't as evil as he seemed.
"And bloody hell, Granger," he called to her back, his voice full of disgust, "do something about that frizz-ball hair."
Ok. He was an ass. Plain and simple.
She was pleased to find all her housemates asleep when she entered her dorm that night. After showering, fixing her hair, and falling into bed, she was left with nothing but poisonous thoughts.
Why didn't Draco lover her enough to be with her? Would she always be looked down on for her blood? What would tomorrow bring in the way of dirty looks and hexes?
She could only hope that some of the drama had died down by then, but somehow she knew that it wouldn't have. She wasn't sure if things would ever go back to normal.
She fell asleep that night with a feeling of dread, sadness and worry in the pit of her stomach.
"Checkmate," Weasley said proudly, grinning down at the chess board between him and Potter. Potter growled in frustration, and threw a pawn at the wall. The piece ran under one of the beds for protection.
"Bloody stupid game!" The boy cried, "That's the last time I'm playing it!"
Weasley and Blaise chuckled at the teen.
"Bit of a sore loser, mate?" Blaise goaded, receiving a scowl from Potter. Potter and Weasley chuckled again, but fell silent as the door to their dorm swung open.
When the blonde hair, pale skin, and bruised eye of Draco slipped into the room, all three boys shot up and stared wide eyed.
"Where the bloody hell have you been!" Weasley crowed at him.
"Do you realise what's been going on mate?" Potter added.
Blaise stood staring at his friend. His overall appearance was horrible. His black eye stood like a streak of blood across a snowy field. Blaise could hardly comprehend where to start his questioning, unlike the others. A part of him felt like he should wait til tomorrow, merely because Draco looked as though he'd already had enough for one day.
"I know about everything," Draco muttered, his voice raspy, "I should've been here, I know. But my father had other plans."
The three teens opposite of Draco shared a dark look between them.
"Is that where you got that?" Potter asked, nodding toward Draco's bruised eye. The teen nodded.
"I guess it's not as enjoyable using a wand all the time." He said, rather unemotionally.
"Have you seen Hermione?" Blaise asked, talking for the first time since his friend had walked in. Draco met his friends eye, and Blaise could see the boy was in pain; not just the physical kind.
He nodded. "I saw her..." He replied vaguely.
"And?" Weasley prodded.
"And nothing." Draco snapped, "It's over. There's nothing more to say about Granger."
The three boys shared another look, this time one of concern and surprise.
"What the hell happened?" Potter questioned. He looked as though he was unable to fathom how the events of today could lead to this.
Draco let out a long, temperamental sigh. "What did you think would happen after today? That we'd ride off into the sunset? I told you, it wasn't the right time for this to come out. I just needed until the end of school. I just needed some time."
He slumped on the end of his bed, head in his hands. "I can't even be with her now. Not with rumours like this."
"Sure you can, mate," Weasley encouraged him, "Screw what everyone thinks!"
Draco looked up through his lashes. "The problem is my father wouldn't have it. He already did this to his own son, what would he do to her?"
The group was silent for a moment.
"So what happens now?" Potter asked no one in particular.
"Nothing happens," Draco answered, his voice emotionless, "nothing can happen. It's over between Granger and I. I was stupid to think it would work in the first place. We're too different. I can't just run from who I am or ask her to do the same...no matter how much I want her."
Blaise stared at his friend for a long moment. This was not how he thought the day would turn out when he'd woken up that morning.
Hermione had received the full brunt of the confession. Draco's father had intervened. And now, it seemed, they were both giving up.
Blaise was physically tired. Was a relationship that had so many obstacles even viable in the first place? He couldn't understand.
Things for him and Luna had come so easily. He had stuck by her side, even when people were making nasty comments, and now things were great. Sure, he hadn't seen her all day because of this drama going on, but he knew that tomorrow when he came from behind and pulled her into a hug that things would be like they always were.
He felt bad for Draco. Bad that he had caused this mess, and bad that things weren't working out. This time he had no encouragement for him, no words of wisdom, no silver lining. It seemed that this was it.
"I'm sorry, mate," was all Blaise could think to say.
Blaise was sorry for encouraging their love from the beginning, sorry for interfering, and sorry that it now seemed that Hermione Granger would never be Draco's.
Hermione awoke late the next day. She sat up tiredly. Her head felt groggy, her limbs sore, and the cut on her arm was still throbbing. She would go to the hospital wing to get that healed first, then perhaps if she was lucky, she might make it down for some breakfast. She couldn't remember the last proper meal she'd had. Even though she didn't have much of an appetite, she supposed she should eat.
She dressed quickly, not bothering with her appearance. People would stare anyway; at least it would give them something else to talk about. She slipped her bag over the shoulder of her good arm and made it downstairs to the common room.
It was completely empty, except for the stern figure of Professor McGonagall who was standing by the fireplace as though she were waiting for someone.
"Good morning, Professor," Hermione greeted as cheerfully as possible. The professor nodded once.
"Good morning, Miss Granger," she returned in her thick Scottish accent, "I was hoping I could perhaps have a chat with you."
Hermione suddenly remembered her conversation with Madame Pomfrey the day before. She was going to get Professor McGonagall to talk to her about everything that was happening. Hermione suddenly dreaded this conversation.
"Ah...of course, Professor," she agreed hesitantly. She moved to sit on one of the couches by the fireplace. The professor sat across from her.
"I understand you've been having some personal problems, Miss Granger," McGonagall began. Well, she didn't beat around the bush.
Hermione nodded, "I guess you could say that."
The professor eyed her for a moment. "While it's not my place to get involved in the personal life of my students, Miss Granger, when I'm alerted that a student is having their safety at this school threatened, I must intervene."
Hermione wanted to point out that her safety had been threatened multiple times by the Silver Marauders, but she held her tongue on that point. "It was just the one incident before Potions yesterday, Professor," she lied, "I'm sure you've spoken to Madam Pomfrey about it."
She wasn't sure why she had lied. All she knew was that no matter what the teachers did to ensure her safety right now, at least someone would have it in for her.
"I have spoken to Poppy, and if it were merely one stray incident perhaps I would let it slide, but the fact that I was alerted by a student, a Slytherin at that, that your safety was in danger, I must take action."
Hermione furrowed her brow. A student? Was it Blaise? Or maybe...? No. Don't think of him now, Hermione.
"A student?" She questioned out loud. The professor nodded.
"Yes, Theodore Nott came to inform me of an incident that occurred last night while he was patrolling." Hermione gaped at the woman, "He was rather concerned and informed me that many of his fellow housemates are targeting you. We cannot have that."
Nott, concerned about her? Hermione almost laughed out loud at the thought. What was that boy playing at? She let those thoughts slide for a moment as she focused on what the professor was saying.
"I've contacted your parents by floo this morning. As you know, your fireplace is connected to the network," Hermione nodded. It had been connected to allow the school to contact her parents in case of emergencies.
"I explained to them the situation, and that I believe it would be best if you took a break from school for a while." Hermione felt herself panicking. She didn't want to leave Hogwarts.
"But my parents work at the practice every day," Hermione informed her, hoping that perhaps she'd change her mind, "I'd be home alone anyway."
The Professor nodded, "Yes, they did mention that. However, they think it might be nice for you to take a break and perhaps visit your Aunt for however long it takes you to feel better."
Visit her Aunt Edith? But her family lived in the middle of nowhere practically...
"I feel fine now, Professor, really. This is nothing I can't handle." She really didn't want to leave Hogwarts. She had her only support here; but then again, all her problems were here too.
"I'm afraid it's already organised." The professor informed her, "Your Aunt has been notified, and we'll be activating the floo at lunchtime. I suggest you go up and pack what you need. And get your arm looked at." She added. Hermione hadn't realised there was a blood stain on her white shirt.
The professor stood, and walked toward the portrait hole, before pausing. "And Hermione," she said, her voice softening for the first time, "you're one of the most talented witches I've seen come through this school in a very long time. Don't let anyone tell you you don't deserve to be here."
Hermione swallowed thickly before nodding. However, she couldn't help but think if she deserved to be here, why were they making her leave?
She supposed there was no point in arguing, however, and merely trudged back up stairs to pack her things.
Blaise stood waiting by the doors of the entrance hall that morning. He was waiting for Luna to come downstairs; he couldn't help but notice he hadn't seen her much yesterday.
"Look at all those girls," Weasley scoffed, glaring at a group of Ravenclaws, "they're all staring at Draco as though he's some sort of sick Pygmy Puff."
Draco scowled at the red head for that comparison. "You think I want all this attention? I wish I could just leave..."
"Don't worry mate, if you get sick of it, I'll be more than happy to intervene," Potter said with a large grin as he sent a wink to one of the girls. She didn't even notice it as her eyes were fixed on Draco.
"Stupid girls," the spectacled boy grumbled, "They don't know what they're missing."
"I'm pretty sure they do, since you've snogged half of them," Weasley reminded him with a chuckle.
Blaise rolled his eyes before zoning out of that particular conversation. His eyes landed back on the stairs just in time to see Luna jump off the last step and walk towards the doors. She didn't even look at him. Hmm, perhaps she had something on her mind like the breeding habits of Nargles.
Blaise grinned at the thought.
"Luna!" he called to the blonde girl as she reached the doors. She paused in her steps, as though she were hesitating about whether to keep walking, before turning around and looked at him. Her expression was rather cold; not like the ones he usually got off her. His smile faltered as he walked towards her.
"Good morning," he said with false cheer. He couldn't help the feeling of foreboding in his stomach. Why was she looking at him like that?
"Is it?" she questioned, looking around, "I hadn't noticed."
He frowned. Something was definitely wrong.
"So, how did you go on that Charms homework the other day?" he asked, hoping she would perk up a bit. "I know you would've done great." He grinned at her. She didn't return it.
"I did well enough, I suppose," she said vaguely. She checked her watch. "I really should be getting to breakfast, I'm starved."
She turned and began to walk away, leaving Blaise with a sick feeling in his stomach, and a frown on his face.
"Luna, wait!" he called after her. She paused for a moment, before turning.
"Yes?"
"W-what's going on?" he asked, trying to make his voice calm, "What's wrong?"
She sighed. "Why don't you ask Ginny?"
She turned and walked away from him again. This time he didn't call her back.
Ginny? What did Ginny have to do with it? He was suddenly angry.
What did the girl say to Luna about him? Was this part of her plan to get him? He'd assumed that her little fling was over with and that she'd moved on to some other poor soul.
He began to panic. What if the damage was irreparable? Luna seemed as though she couldn't look at him. He hated it.
After an extremely long and agonising breakfast which consisted most of staring longingly at Luna, and scowling at an oblivious Ginny from across the room, he stood when the red head headed for the doors, just in time for the bell.
He followed her up the stairs, and down a few corridors, where students were waiting for their classes. Luckily for him, she took a short cut behind one of the portraits; he followed.
She didn't even have time to look behind him as he pushed her against the wall at arm's length and glared at her. After her initial shocked yelp, she realised who it was and merely eyed him as though he'd lost it.
He felt like he had. He hated her.
"What the hell are you doing, Blaise?" She shouted at him, "Get off me, you idiot!"
He held her against the wall as she struggled. "Not until you tell me what you said to Luna to make her hate me!"
Ginny stilled in her struggle and merely stared at him. Oh yes, he knew for certain now that she'd done something.
"Blaise, we didn't mean for her to hear-,"
"Hear what?" he interrupted. He was not in the mood to hear her excuses.
Ginny hesitated for a moment. "When you were in the hospital wing unconscious, after your Quidditch accident...I visited you. Hermione saw me kiss you."
"Hermione knew about all this?" he asked. Ginny nodded. Why hadn't she said anything? Then again, she did have her own problems lately. Still, would it have hurt to give him a heads up? He felt betrayed.
It suddenly dawned on him. Ginny had kissed him while he was out cold. "What the hell were you doing kissing me in the first place?" he shouted in her face, "I told you, just give up already!"
"It's not like up some sort of pervert, Blaise!" She shouted back, "It was my way of saying goodbye. I was giving up. I have."
"But you thought you'd do a little more damage before then, did you?" he spat. He had no sympathy for her pathetic feelings.
"No! I told you, no one was meant to know. Hermione, she got angry at me, but she agreed not to say anything. Luna overheard the other day, though..."
Blaise stepped back. "Why is she angry at me for something you did while I was unconscious?"
Ginny bit her lip. "She doesn't know you were unconscious..."
Blaise ran his hands through his hair angrily. "So she thinks I cheated on her with you?" he sneered as he looked down at her.
Ginny narrowed her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with me!" she cried, obviously offended by his tone, "But yes, that's what she thinks. She won't hang around long enough for me to explain, and Hermione's got her own problems."
He laughed mirthlessly. "So you just left it, til I found out. She's barely speaking to me!"
"That's not my fault, Blaise!" She shot back, "You know the truth now, go and tell it to her!"
He stared at her for a moment, the urge to hex her tempting him to the extremes. It was times like this, times when people wronged him, that he knew why he was put in Slytherin.
"If you've ruined this for me, Weasley," he threatened in a low, dangerous voice, "You're life is not going to be worth living."
He left her with that threat as he walked out of the secluded area, and back into the main corridors. He would try to explain to Luna what had happened; try to get her to understand. She was everything to him, and if he lost everything, he would have nothing left to lose by making Ginny Weasley pay.
Hermione stood in the office of Professor McGonagall that lunch time with her trunk sitting beside her. She was about to floo to her Aunt's house, a place she hadn't visited since she was 10. She wasn't looking forward to it.
"Alright, Miss Granger," the professor began, moving toward the roaring fireplace, "It's time to go. Try to enjoy the break. I know you've likely packed a dozen books in hat trunk of yours, but I'd prefer you didn't spend the whole time reading them." She gave the girl a pointed look, to which Hermione looked away guiltily. It wasn't quite that many.
"Take this opportunity to relax," the Professor reiterated, "and let's hope for your sake that things have died down when you get back."
Hermione nodded. She hoped so too. She moved towards the fireplace, before grabbing a handful of Floo powder and throwing it into the flames. They immediately turned green, and Hermione rolled her trunk into the large fireplace, before getting in herself. She shouted the address of her Aunt's house clearly, and closed her eyes as the Professors' face disappeared and she was pulled through the floo network.
She immediately hit her head on her Aunts fireplace when she landed.
"Oh, dear," her Aunt cooed, bustling forward. "Is your head alright? I suppose the fireplace is a little small..."
Hermione rubbed her head. "It's fine Aunt Edith." She assured her with a forced smile, "It's great to see you."
Her Aunt returned the smile, before pulling her into a tight hug. "It's lovely to see you too, dear. The boys will love to have you around. They're at school right now, so you have a little while to prepare yourself for the onslaught."
Hermione chuckled. Her cousins were hyperactive. "Are you sure it's ok if I stay here?" She asked, suddenly worried she was intruding.
Her Aunt looked scandalized. "Of course, Mione! You're family! And with Robert away on business in London it gets lonely with just me and the boys. It'll be great to have another female around."
Hermione nodded. Her Uncle was often away on business. His job as a Pharmaceutical rep involved a lot of travel. Her Aunt Edith was a stay at home mother to her two young sons. Hermione, despite her love for her Aunt, felt as though she were wasting her brains. She had so much potential.
"Now, if you'd like to take your things upstairs to the spare room and wash up, we can have some tea and catch up." Edith smiled, as she headed toward the kitchen.
Hermione couldn't help but think that being with her Aunt Edith wouldn't be so bad. It was merely the fact that they small town she lived in held nothing of interest.
She took her trunk upstairs to the spare bedroom, and smiled as she noticed a freshly cut vase of flowers on the bedside table. The bathroom was down the hall, and Hermione headed there with the intention of washing some of the soot off her face.
The bathroom was a small cosy room, much like the rest of the house. It was tiled white, and sparkling clean, with a large window looking over the rolling hills, occasional rooftops, and hedge lines of the surrounding land.
Hermione scooped a handful of water up and threw it over her face, scrubbing until it ran clear, and all traces of her trip by floo were gone. As she dried her face on the hand towel, she stared out the window.
It really was a beautiful view. It was just a shame it was in the middle of nowhere. This small town, in Wiltshire, where nothing much happened at all.
Hermione didn't realise then, but this trip would be anything but boring.
A/N:
So did anyone catch the hint at the end? Does that place sound familiar? :P
Sorry for the long update! I say this every time, but I really do try to work on this as much as I can! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'm freaking excited to write the next one. Thank you everyone for the lovely reviews and latina-pr who always gives me awesome ideas and feedback!
Thanks lovelies,
Leni