Chapter 21
A Monster
Draco looked disgusted.
"That's it?"
Hermione frowned.
"What do you mean, 'that's it'?"
"I meant exactly what I said, Granger."
"So you obviously meant to offend."
"Yes, that was my intention."
"Didn't you feel anything? Anything? Were you happy for the Nightingale or, or, maybe you felt sad about the deaths? Anything?" Hermione pleaded.
Draco clamoured off the bed hurriedly. He stalked to the door.
"I FELT NOTHING!" He roared over his shoulder. He left, slamming the door behind him.
"Wait!" Hermione called feebly. The word lapped as gentle as a wave over the emptiness of the room. Emotions that had run so high for so long, on mere hope, crashed into Hermione. All at once she felt the full weight of defeat. Draco had felt nothing. She had failed.
"Wait," she whispered, her voice cracking, "for me."
Hermione hated Draco more than she had ever hated him. She hated him for being so cold; for upsetting her; for leaving her alone in such a frightening place. The terrible truth of it all made her weep. This was her world now. A dark tower of shadows where the enemy possessed the only shred of light. Draco Malfoy was a cruel, heartless being- a monster. Not a knight in shining robes.
Hermione hugged her knees to her chest, balling herself into a knot. She howled at the thought that Draco felt nothing. And probably never would. She would never be able to manipulate him to save herself, and her friends. Memories of happier days drifted across her bleary eyed vision. Wasted opportunities.
I should have told mum and dad I loved them more often. I should have thanked Harry for always being there for me. I should have squeezed Ronald Weasly back whenever he gave me one of his little 'happy to see you' hugs. I should have gabbed hold of him, Harry and life…and then I shouldn't have ever let them go.
She resigned herself to misery. Quite content was she to sit and sob until the wedding day.
Everyone has to die at some stage.
The thought whirled about her head for a time. It was not until it had settled into its allotted corner that Hermione had a spark of a rebellious idea. Draco's firey query seemed to suddenly awaken her from her depressed trance.
That's it?
She sniffed. Another memory of a very different warlock talking cut through her sudden idea of accepting death.
'I said to Slughorn, 'one of my best friends is a muggle born and she's the best witch in the grade!''
The memory dispersed, only to be replaced with the echoing statement, that's it?
A different voice spoke.
'Blimey, Hermione, there's no need to get upset. That Pansy's a dog. She's half the witch you are."
Again, Draco's sharp voice ricocheted off the walls of her mind. This time it boomed, louder than ever.
THAT'S IT?
Hermione unfurled herself, like a blossoming flower.
No! That's not it! What am I doing even thinking about giving up? It's not over until I deem it to be so! Who cares if I can't manipulate Malfoy? There are other ways to de-wart a toad. I have to keep trying. For Harry… And for Ron.
She climbed off the four-poster bed and trekked down into the bathroom to tidy herself up. She splashed cool water over her puffy face, and adjusted her Chinese bun, pulling back any wayward hairs.
All right Malfoy, you may have won that round but you won't win the next. I'm ready and roaring to fight for my freedom.
She ascended the stone steps back up to the tower. The boy wizard she so expected to meet upon her return was, however, not present to greet her.
"Malfoy?" She called.
Only an echoing silence replied.
Fine then. Be that way. You want me to sit it out. HAH! I can sit it out! You've got to return some time, Malfoy, and when you do, I'll be waiting.
She plonked herself down on her bed, picked up the fairytale book and settled in for a stake out.
'Thou have danced with thy, next thou shalt join in honeyed melody.'