Myrtle flitted above her head in a careless way, not even feeling the coolness in the castle that seemed to slash to the very deep of her bones. But still, the ghost seemed unaffected as they spoke. Private and still, quietly, suited perfectly for the awaiting winter, but not for the thunder currently roaring outside.
"So you have no idea?" Myrtle asked airily and did a dip just near the ceiling; a lightning bolt flashing just near her while the rain thudded against the robust walls of Hogwarts.
Hermione shook her head, irritated by the heavenly war outside, wishing that it would go away. "I just saw his scar. Draco never told me a thing about it."
The late Ravenclaw sniggered at that, "He never told me either," she said after a bit of silence, her voice bitter as if she would have expected him to do so, "but, I have my own ideas. I assumed long ago that we are thinking in the same way in some matter, and he mu—,"
Myrtle shut her mouth the moment she saw icy blonde in her periphery, and before she could have focused on that tiny flash, seeing if that was the subject of their discussion, a book came flying towards her and went through her translucent body.
She felt a sudden urge to cry or at least throw back the damned book to the source, but after more than fifty years, she knew it was impossible. She couldn't touch anything earthy and this though now felt like a stab to the gut.
Not that she would have had any idea how a stab felt.
With a cry of irritation and blazing fury, the ghost fled place, slamming a cubicle with the speed of her departure that it nearly came off its hinges. In a second, she was nowhere to be found.
Hermione blinked once, twice, and then looked up from the sofa, rigidly turning to the remains of the door some idiot blasted off. She faced Draco's dark expression, contoured but not controlled, the fury rolling off of his body in ripples. The mist wreathing in the bathroom made it hard to see much more of him, but it was enough for Hermione to know he was pissed.
She turned her back to him, unfazed.
And just like that, something seemed to snap in the man behind her. He strode there, confident and his eyes exactly like the thunder above them, glaring straightforward. His breathing was labored, fists squeezed to whitening as he sat down beside Hermione.
He let out a heavy breathe.
Hermione put the book next to her that she was fiddling with formerly, and turned to the deputy Head Boy who looked like an enraged bull, ready to throttle anyone.
"What's it?" she whispered lightly, her melted chocolate eyes never leaving his angular face, the sudden line of his jaw, his straight nose and the sneer she hadn't seen in a while. Not that she had missed it.
An unintelligible murmur was his answer and she leaned in closer in the hope of catching the syllables, "—a horse and Solana kicked me in the groin. And can you—!"
She needed to bite in the inside of her cheek not to let a roaring laughter escape her lips. Draco went to the unicorn daily, often speaking and offering it his company for hours, even thought he hadn't an idea how to deal with common horse without it wanting to cause him any harm, not to mention a unicorn – which required special approach. He never said why he kept going to the rude horned horse – his words –, because for her, it was painfully clear that they wouldn't get an ounce of blood from the obstinate creature.
Crying through last weekend because of that, even though she convinced herself she wouldn't, but the realization dawned on her in the middle of night and she just understood why people sometimes didn't think their situation through on purpose. It was cruel and weighty, a plus, unwanted rock on her heart.
Hermione needed to come to turns with her impending death that night and the next day, she was really grateful for the muggle make-up products, because to some extent, they outlast glamour charms.
Letting a shaky breathe out, trying not to think back of her hysterics, she spoke up, desperate to change the topic, "I asked Pansy about the scar. The liar scar," she confessed.
And just that – everything seemed to go awry.
Silence. Oh, the silence! Eerie, ominous silence.
It made her shudder!
The war heroine leaned in closer, desperate to catch any movement, a little shift in his gaze, on his body, a fore-telling sign of his awaiting reaction. But the silence continued and it was pregnant and so weighty that her shoulders slumped under the burden.
Though Draco's never did. He sat perched on the sofa, looking forward and not moving. Like a statue – a Greek statue, as she'd envisioned him not long ago, defiant and dedicated to his truth. Warrior-like, and ready to turn the word around its axis, but waiting for that little thing, the little thing, that could throw him off balance.
Balance – Hermione realized. She was balancing on a tight-rope with this issue and she needed to gulp, because yes, she had no right to pry, but she was curios and worried, and wasn't about to let something go when it could drag with itself a distinct change.
Looking at his knuckles and seeing his blue veins through his pale skin, she just now understood the rage he felt through the force he was squeezing his hands in fists.
"You really shouldn't have."
She had the gall to feel ashamed, but it was not enough for his satisfaction. The grey eyes now not just resembled the thunder outside in colour, it was now the thunder itself, full of different shades and lightning and so many emotions that it scared her for a minute.
"You never tell me anything," she answered meekly, but in a firm voice, with no intention of angering him furthermore, but still! Knowing, there was a brick wall between them... A brick wall, so tall and so vast, that she needed to break through now. Now or never. And she wasn't about to give up!
Draco tutted, his lips literally white as he pressed them together. He particularly hissed his reply, barely audible, "It may have a reason why I never tell you anything."
That comment. Unnecessary and untrue and it just made something blew over within her. Maybe it was common sense. Maybe it wasn't – just the barricade between common sense and emotions.
"You just want to keep your distance!" Hermione snapped, the words tumbling out of her mouth with the ferocity that she might have just blown fire in his face, suddenly standing and looking down at the intimidating man who was on the verge of his patience. But that didn't stop Granger's ranting, "Because you're afraid," she shouted, "Draco, you're afraid! And you can't tell me I read you wrong," she rambled on, her gestures careless and big, her hair in every way of the compass rose. "I know more than I let on, and against believes, I actually care for the people around me! I pay attention and I am there when it's needed! I'm not going... just abandon you, Draco!"
He snorted at that, because he was just Death Eater, everyone abandoned him. Heck, even the Dark Lord did!
So Hermione felt entitled to continue on.
"We're partners," she said, "We can be even more," she added, "Friends," she offered, "Maybe a little more," she amended, now blushed prettily and a tiny bit embarrassed. A messy confession popped in the middle of a battlefield. Great.
But he didn't seem to understand – not when swelling with rage and bottled up emotions, not when he felt violated and betrayed. Because it was flat out betrayal in his vocabulary: doing things behind his back and without his consent. Asking personal things from his allies, from the few who were left and she thought it was natural for him? Yes, he was a selfish prick – but he treasured what he was given. And these allies, these he wasn't about to give up!
"It's called betrayal, Granger," was his answer, grey eyes unseeing and glassy. Venom latched in his tongue as he ran it across his lips, waiting for reply, eager to jab where it hurt one more, a thousand more times.
Hermione growled in frustration, tempted to slap him, just like back in third year. She was that level of angry with him and his childish thinking – the former bully of Hogwarts outshining the picture of the man he had become. That man he changed into – the one, who was worth fighting for.
What the fuck have I done to you, Hermione?
It's called betrayal, Draco.
"You don't get to use my words against me," she literally spat the words in his face, kneeling down in front of him and looking him straight in the eyes. Grey thunder met with muddy swamp, ready to conjure him and make the rage sink in itself from within his ribcage. "That's despicable."
"That's just me, love," he drawled with a smirk, flashing his pristine teeth back at her face.
And we don't have time for you playing around with lives, either.
And we don't have time...
Damn!
She squeezed the thing under her palms out of anger, and nearly jumped when the thing twitched and she looked down, flabbergasted to find Draco's knees under those. Before that they weren't even aware of the contact, maybe blinded by fury, or just maybe, too comfortable with the other's close presence to notice.
Eyes wide and full of surprise, they leaned away. It was time for compromise – something to offer before they crash everything they'd already built together.
It was hard to be the one who stops a fight, "I'll never ask again... just tell me once, when you feel comfortable," Hermione offered shyly, accepting that her pride had been trampled down to the level zero.
It was hard not to continue the fight, but maybe, it was harder to be the one to leave it and give up – but it might had been the cleverest choice of all. If they continued, the gap between them might have pulled them in from the edges they were standing, on the different sides, face to face, but bonded by their words of helping each other.
It was maybe the cleverest choice of all, but might not the best.
She wasn't the Brightest Witch of her Age for nothing, huh?
Uhuhu, somehow they just always end up arguing when I finish it. Must be their characters... ehehe, no. I just love writing these scenes and they just come to me, like you know hungry sea-bitches to drunk sailors. (Yeah, I should really try s-l-e-e-p-i-n-g some of these days.)
Also, I started a new story - no worries, it's a summer lemonade when you'd like to smileon silly things. Also, there's a chance you find the contradictions too much and then, start laughing because of that. You know, you never know if you do not read *tentatively nudges you towards the first update.*
So, Ladies and Gentlemen, let me introduce you my new creation: Let's play dumb. Dramione, of course. Travelling AU, three/four years after the war. Summary: They were kind-of together. And kind of full of contradictions. But still stuck together by the hip. And perfectly in denied love. So they escape from the world - going back to irresponsible juveniles that they really are under their carefully composed masks.
The prologue is already up and I really hope I won't be left without readers for that project either!
As always, thank you for reading, and I'm really curious what you think!