Chapter One
Hermione POV
I swear, I don't know how I get in so much trouble sometimes.
It's not even my fault, most of the time. I mean can a girl cry in a washroom in peace? No, a stupid Mountain Troll has to fuck that up completely. I try to help my friends and what happens? I end up petrified, traveling through time, tied up at the bottom of a lake, and engaged in battle. Honestly.
I thought this year would be different. I would spend my year getting the best grades I could, attempting to manage my hair (always a fail) and perhaps not have to battle the forces of evil. Course, that was too much to ask.
So here I was, free period, last period of the day. I had a long study session planned for myself, which would start after a quick break to go to the loo. As always, I went to Moaning Myrtle's. It was closest to the library and after all that happened there I was quite attached to it. And Myrtle's not too bad if you're polite and not talk too much.
As I walked in I could hear someone else quietly... crying? That couldn't be Myrtle, when she cried, you could sure as hell hear from miles away. And I thought I was the only one (living) who used this as a sob spot! Ah well, must be the acoustics. I figured I should go see if the occupant of the washroom was unharmed and such. Prefect, you know.
So I picked my way over there, minding the water on the floor (no clue why, you'd think with all the magic they'd fix that), and approached the figure who was hunched over a sink.
The person in question looked up and made eye contact with me in the mirror with wide grey eyes as they heard me approach. Wow awkward, it was the one and only Draco Malfoy. Goody gumdrops. I would stumble on the Sworn enemy of Harry is a washroom. And one that by association, didn't like me either. He didn't seem to like anyone, perhaps that's why he was crying? Somehow I doubted that. He seemed to be in the middle of a breakdown, red rimmed eyes, clutching a sink, and utter desperation on his face until he saw me, that was replaced with malice and... anxiety? I had caught him in a terrible moment after all, he looked like he really didn't want to deal with me, and that his self control had snapped. I would have to tread carefully it seemed, one hostile move from me and this riled up blondie would be sending me to the hospital wing in a matchbox. I had to think about my words logically and ignore the blatant elephant in the room called 'hate'. Deep breath.
"Granger," he hissed, with poison in his eyes (not literally, obviously), if looks could kill!
Wow, this was awkward. I don't think I'd ever talked one on one with Malfoy.
"Um, hi." I really didn't know what to say, and I still really had to pee. What was I supposed to do now? Did I ignore him (awkward)? Confront him (awkward, and potentially suicidal)? Comfort him (awkward)? Leave (awkward, with my bladder)?
I kind of just stood there, and waited for him to do something. He continued glaring at me.
"Er, are you alright?" I blurted out. Ugh, curse my awkwardness with people, this is why I prefer books and cats! Wow, my life was sad... Anyways, Malfoy was kind of assessing me with slitted eyes, as if I was about to jump and stab him. Was he interpreting my unsure face as hostile? Probably. Guh, I really had to pee. This is a problem.
Before he could say anything, I jumped in. "Well, uh, I kind of really have to use the loo, so, um, excuse me." I scurried down the short corridor of stalls and went into the furthest one.
After relieving myself, I headed back to the sinks. Malfoy was still there, though he looked a tad bit calmer, which is to say still as calm as a puma in a cat carrier. Ever seen that? I have, it's not a fun sight. They get really vicious and snarly and such. Its quite dangerous. Not as dangerous as say, cliff diving, provided you keep your fingers away. But cliff diving is more thrill seeking than dangerous. Though if I was thrill seeking, I'd prefer swimming with sharks. They are such cool animals. Though everyone thinks they're dangerous and aggressive, when they're relatively lonerish. Wow, my train of thought just derailed.
I stopped at a sink a few down from Malfoy's and washed my hands. I washed them thoroughly for two minutes, humming the birthday song twice, just like mum taught me.
I must have hummed louder than I thought, because Malfoy was staring at me like I was fresh out of Arkham Asylum. I get that look a surprisingly large amount.
"Well Malfoy, it's been, uh, great to see you. Do you, um, need anything? Tissue? Visine? A cookie? Ooh, I bet you want a cookie. Cookies always make me feel better when I'm down, and boy, you look down!" he was looking at me with that same expression, so I reached into my backpack and grabbed a tin of cookies I had stashed in there. "I made these myself. Sort of. They're those Pillsbury place and bake ones, so mostly I did nothing, but yeah. The house elves let me use their ovens in exchange for never trying to free them again, so I usually have a stash with me. Also, I've discovered it's good to use to bribe Harry and Ron with. Do you want any?"
He replied by staring at me and slowly asking "Granger, are you high?" His eyes narrowing again.
I could see him getting suspicious again. I had to avoid more hostile stares and probably an impromptu duel. Quick Hermione, do something irrevocably insane, stupid, and distracting. At least I was good at that. So I faked a guilty expression and looked around shifty eyed. "shhh!" I mock-whispered, "don't let them coppers hear ya!" using a bad Brooklyn accent. For some reason, a phrase that always amused my little cousin Nate.
Malfoy stared a bit more at me, looking a bit startled, and surprised me by bursting into uncontrollable, riotous laughter.
"Granger you are nuts!" he choked out between laughs. I had no clue what to do here, I was standing in a damp washroom with a box of cookies in my hands and my best friend's second worst mortal enemy was rolling on the floor laughing/having a mental break down at me (not literally, because that floor is gross). So I stashed my cookie tin in my bag, and swung my bag back on my shoulders. Being a klutz, I didn't realize how close I was to the counter until my bag bounced off of it and swung back to my side, the momentum of the swing causing me to fall to the floor with quite a nasty splash.
Ick! I was soaked on my whole left side! I then noticed my actions had caused that laughing fool to break down into even more laughter and now he was doubled up making inaudible laughing-wheezing sounds. I was just about to epi-pen him in the leg when his laughter died down and he straightened up a bit. He was still sporadically chuckling, but he seemed to be breathing again, so the asphyxiation threat passed, I would say.
He clucked the counter as he righted himself, "Granger," he wheezed, "I never thought I'd say this but thanks for the laugh, I needed that!" he had a smile on his face, the remnants of his laugh attack. That was an odd sight.
"Er, you're welcome?" I stated, carefully, lest he break down again. I was quite convinced his sanity might not all be there, not gone like mine, but still straight-jacket worthy.
He sighed, and turned back to the sink, gathering up his stuff. Chuckling to himself every once in a while.
I couldn't hold it any longer, the curiosity would kill me! "Er, Malfoy?" He glanced at me, though without any malicious expressions. I took that as a good sign and proceeded. "Um, why were you crying then? Are you okay?" I asked carefully. I didn't want him to blow up at me or something.
Surprisingly, he didn't get mad. He sighed again and had a faraway look in his eye. "Granger, sometimes you have to do what you don't want to, because you have to, for the ones you love."
"Got that right, sister." I said pulling myself up onto the counter beside him, and sitting with my legs dangling.
He glanced at me, looking a bit pissed again. "I don't know why I told you that, not like you'll understand." he sneered.
"Au contraire, young Draco, I understand perfectly."
"Doubt it," he snorted.
"Seriously Malfoy? Does facing a three-headed dog, a chessboard of doom, a basilisk, a hippogriff, an escaped convict, homicidal mermaids, some pretty fucked up death eaters in a hall of breaking glass, and possible EXPULSION sound like things one does for fun? I know exactly what it means to do things you don't want to do, for the ones you love. You may not believe it, but me and my friends live it. And we may seem like stuck up heroes, but I hate it, we all do. Risking your life seems easy after the fact, not so much when you're doing it."
He seemed to deflate after my little speech. He exhaled loudly and seemed to exhale out all his anger. Now he just looked like a weary, depressed, and overworked teenager. I'd seen that before.
He hoisted himself up onto the counter beside me, shocking me quite well. He sighed for the millionth time, and was quiet. I sat with him in quiet for quite a bit of time. Thank God I didn't have any more classes today.
After a bit, he quietly spoke again. "It's hard, you know. Doing what's right. Everyone thinks it's so easy, but sometimes you have no choice. It's do or die, along with your family. I can't deal with it, it's killing me. And if it doesn't he will. God, I don't know what to do."
I saw a tear leak out of his eye. Without thinking, I reached over and wiped it away, startling his attention towards me.
"Hey," I said softly, "It may sound clichéd, but we always always always have a choice. And no matter what, there's always help out there, you just have to pluck up the courage to ask for it, or be humble enough to accept when it's offered to you. It's hard. Life may seem hopeless, but you have to realize that doing the right thing is a choice that everyone has to make. And sometimes, people choose wrong, because doing what's right is almost never easy or simple. But choosing the right path, though difficult short term, is what makes all the difference in the long term. You have to think of where you want to be in years to come and work for that. Keep an ultimate goal in mind, and fight for it. We are all fighting for safe and happy futures. But if we lose, what will the future be like? So there comes moments in everyone's life where that dedication to that goal is tested. If your dedication isn't strong enough, your path falls. But war makes you realize that that dedication, even though most people don't usually think of it as a great motivator, is truly worth fighting for. So we fight, as we will keep fighting until we have achieved our goals, until our world is safe. But you have to decide where you want to be in all of this. Will you be fighting for safety and mundane happiness or power and control? Because that's all this coming war is."
Malfoy stared at me for quite a while after my spiel, a strange look on his face. After a time, he commented "You're wise, Hermione Granger."
"And you're a good person, Draco Malfoy." I replied sagely.
He snorted in disbelief. "No, I'm not. I'm not wise or brave or strong. And I certainly don't have the courage or humbleness to do what's right." He looked down. "I really am not a good person."
"Hey, Malfoy, don't judge yourself by your past mistakes and wrong decisions. Judge yourself for who you are, not who you've been made to be. Think. Given the choice, would you do the right thing?"
Malfoy stayed silent. I tugged his chin up to look at me, his face an impassive mask, but his eyes a swirl of emotion.
"Would you do the right thing?" I whispered. We both knew we weren't speaking hypothetically anymore. I stared into his eyes and watched the emotions pass through. Doubt. Fear. Anxiety. Confusion. Before settling on steely determination.
"Yes." His answer was no more than a breath, but I could see in his eyes that it was a sincere and true one.
I beamed. "Okay then. Draco Malfoy," I said, hopping down from the counter and standing facing him. "I can see you've been put in a tough situation, would you like my help?"
I stuck my hand out at him, offering a handshake. He looked at it for a few minutes, as if to test whether or not I was being sincere, but I didn't back down at his scrutiny, nor did I waver.
He appeared to brace himself, then gently took my hand and shook it lightly.
"Hermione Granger, I would like your help, please."
I could tell the huge amount of effort that one sentence took, and the amount of pride that his upbringing had instilled on him he had discarded with that one gesture. I was enormously proud of that boy in that moment. I would make sure he got his help. That one gesture cemented that fact in me that despite a clearly terrifying upbringing, lack of moral support from his parents, and general jerkishness to the world, Draco Malfoy was a good person, and I would help make everyone, him included, realize that.
Why I was so adamant about this I didn't know. Maybe because I was tired of this war affecting us. This was not our war to fight, yet we were the ones fighting it. I hated to see the effects of it, and this boy was clearly one. Or maybe it was just the good Samaritan part of me rearing its head. The mother hen inside me that loved to take care of people, and hated to see them suffering. Call me a softie, but that's who I was. Maybe it was just common human compassion. Enemy or friend, stranger or familiar, Gryffindor or Slytherin, here was a person in need and I was a person who could help. If not me who would? If someone else had walked into the bathroom instead of me, what would have happened? Perhaps fate lead me here, I was one of the only people who thinks logically enough in this school to look past my hatred and pride, perhaps fate lead me here because it knew I could help, that I would help? Maybe it was my belief that no one is truly born evil. That circumstances and chances affect much more than we give credit? And given the chance, one could properly become themselves, when removed from such influences.
Whatever the reason, I would help. Call me weak, call me pathetic, call me naive, but I prided myself a decent person. And a decent person would help.
But first if I was going to help, I needed help. I needed details. I knew Malfoy didn't quite trust me, but that was okay. I first would need to know his situation to help him. I didn't know the specifics, though I inferred the gist. I'd have to make it super clear that I was not going to tell anyone unless he was okay with it first.
I wasn't in the game to make friends. Regardless of feelings, logic comes first. That was the Hermione Jean Granger motto, and I'd be damned if I didn't follow it, even if my friends might disagree. I hoped they loved and trusted me enough to accept my judgement when the time came to tell them.
We planned to meet the next day, Malfoy still in his slightly humbled (if a humble Malfoy isn't batshit crazy, I don't know what is) weird state. I felt quite bad for him. Clearly the stress of /everything/ got to him. That's happened to me a few times, so I could empathize. Which was such a strange sentiment. I can't wrap my mind around all this, I need to sit somewhere quiet and think.
So I left Malfoy in the washroom, with the promise that he was okay (temporarily mentally stable) and left to find a good nook to think in before dinner. It's amazing how much my word view was altered in 2ish hours.
