Chapter 55: The Betrayal
With a hiss, green flames erupted from the fireplace in Draco and Albert's flat, and moments later, Draco stepped out into the living room, covered in a light layer of soot. Brushing himself off, Draco deposited his suitcase into his room and began calling around the flat for Albert.
"Hey, Albert I'm back!" Draco called, peering into Albert's room. There was no one there. Draco wasn't very surprised; because he hadn't taken a car home, Draco was home much earlier than Albert had anticipated.
As Draco stood in the doorway of Albert's room, he realized that he had never really been in Albert's room- both men tended to stay out of each other's stuff. However, in this moment, Draco felt compelled to look around. When he stepped into the room, he was hit with the smell of alcohol, combined with the smell of dirty laundry. Draco wrinkled his nose and stepped further into the room, looking at the posters on the wall, which displayed images of Albert's favorite Quidditch team and various American Muggle actresses. On Albert's nightstand was a pile of magazines and book, many of which were copies of Muggle sports magazines. The collection of books was rather dull to Draco; Albert seemed to be reading a book on journalism as well as a book on obscure charms. Draco was about to turn away from this pile of reading material when something caught his eye: a tiny black notebook, perched precariously on top of the stack of books and magazines. Draco stared at it for a moment, frozen. He could feel the blood roaring in his ears and his heart pounding in his chest. For a few moments, he tried to reason with himself.
This can't be the same notebook, Draco told himself. I burned the other one. I watched it turn to ash. This must be something else.
For a few minutes, Draco remained stationary in the middle of Albert's room, unable to make a decision. He shouldn't have even been in Albert's room! Yet here was his notebook (at least he thought it was) so clearly, Albert had been in Draco's room.
Finally, Draco couldn't stay still any longer. He took a few cautious steps toward the notebook, then picked it up, cradling it in his hands. He allowed into to fall open, then bent his head and stared at it, his hair forming a curtain in front of his face. Draco blinked a few times, just to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, then focused on the writing on the page. And there it was- one of the letters he had written to Hermione while he was at Malfoy Manor. It was the same notebook, and Albert had stolen it. Draco flipped through the pages, just to make sure it was really the exact same notebook. Much to his surprise, it wasn't exactly the same- there were a few extra pages at the end, in Albert's writing, signed with Albert's name. And in response to these letters were pages filled with Hermione's writing. Suddenly, Draco felt rage bubbling up inside of him. This was a crappy situation in the first place, but now Albert had gone and made it worse. Furiously, Draco conjured up a suitcase, placed an Undetectable Extension Charm on it, then began chucking all of Albert's things into it, afraid that using magic in this emotional state would cause something to explode.
An hour later, the room was bare, and Draco was still fuming. He dragged the box to the living room, and then sat down on one of the couches until he heard the turn of the key in the lock, at which point he stood up, facing the door, armed with the notebook in one hand and his wand in the other.
"Hey, Draco, you're home earl-" Albert cut himself off as soon as he saw Draco's expression. "What-?" He began.
"What the hell is this?" Draco said, almost in a whisper, forcing the words out of his mouth through his gritted teeth.
All the blood drained from Albert's face instantly. He stood in front of the door, which was still open, swaying slightly. He swallowed a few times.
"I said," Draco repeated. "What the hell is this?" He waved the notebook violently in the air. "Why did you take it from my room, and make a bloody copy of it?!" Draco was yelling now, unable to contain his anger.
Albert bit his lip, then narrowed his eyes at Draco. "You tell me what it is. Who even are you? I've been talking to her, that girl, and-"
"I bloody well know that!" Draco roared. "But there was no reason for you to take it! Why the hell did you feel the need to do that?! After everything I've done for you Albert... are you fucking serious?! I got you that job, then let you stay here, then got you a goddamn promotion, and this is what you do?! What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Albert opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Draco again.
"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU IDIOT!" Roared Draco, throwing the notebook at Albert and pointing at the box. "NOW!"
Albert's face contorted, as though he was about to cry, then he grabbed the box and stormed out of the flat, his bag swinging on his shoulder. Draco remained in the flat, the door still open, his fists clenched and his shoulders tense. Then he stared down at the floor, his eyes flooding with tears, his face growing hot. How long he stood there, he did not know, for he had fallen into a dream-like state, his limbs weak, and his brain turned to mush. Finally, he looked up, and saw that the Albert had left the notebook on the floor, just in front of the door. Draco walked over to it slowly, then picked it up, just as he had earlier. He opened it to the most recent page, which was filled with Hermione's neat script. He had just finished reading the letter when he heard footsteps approaching from beyond the open door.
"Draco, what the hell did you do?" Hermione cried, stepping into the apartment and slamming the door shut behind her. "What did you do to Albert?"
Draco looked up at Hermione, his face contorted with rage. Then he softened his expression, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing him upset. "I kicked him out," he said cooly. "Should've done it a long time ago."
"Why?" Hermione asked, bewildered, her arms limp by her sides and her voice almost tired-sounding.
"Because he's a loser and a leech," Draco said. "And clearly you care about him, so that's another reason."
"What?" Hermione asked in that same voice.
"Why the hell are you here?" Draco asked, ignoring her question. "What are you doing here?" Draco's voice rose. "Come here to ruin my life? Again?" He continued, unable to mask his anger.
"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, her voice filling with anger as well. "If anyone's to talk about ruining someone's life, it should be you. Do you know what I've been through since your trial? People have been calling me a traitor for helping you. Ron's stopped speaking to me-"
"Oh, is that why you're here?" Draco said sarcastically. "Boy trouble? Well, darling, seems like you and Albert would be perfect together, then."
"Shut up!" Hermione yelled, her cheeks turning red. "You have no idea what I've been through. I should never have testified at that bloody trial!"
"And I never damn well asked you to!" Draco bellowed back, his hands clutching his hair.
"I was trying to help you!" Hermione retorted, her voice cracking.
"Well you didn't!" Draco cried. "You didn't help! Even if you did reduce my sentence, you've lengthened it again by coming here and making me relive everything that happened! I'd created a new life for myself here, Hermione, a good one, where everything was fine and I'd moved on. Then you showed up, and everything came crashing down, and now I'm going to have to do it all over again! For the third time!" Draco was almost crying with frustration now.
"You can't forget Draco!" Cried Hermione. "None of us can, and none of us ever will! You can't just live here pretending none of it ever happened!"
"Yes, yes I can!" Draco fired back. "You saw, you saw that I had. But for some reason you just couldn't leave me the hell alone. Just because you're not happy, doesn't mean I can't be!"
"Yes it does, Draco! It does! You don't know what you did to me, either!" Her voice was so strained, she seemed to be fighting back tears. "Draco, you broke my heart-"
"NO I DIDN'T!" Draco bellowed. "No, I didn't. And even if I did, I don't give a damn, because you have enough people in your life to care about you. All I have is my mother!"
"I don't have my parents anymore, either!" Hermione responded, her voice shrill. "They're gone, I can't fix them!"
"Well, I don't give a damn," Draco spat. Hermione looked up at Draco, her eyes burning with rage.
"Well, you should, Draco!" She yelled. "You should care!"
"Why?" Draco snapped back. "Because you care so much about me? That you always told me you were safe? That you stayed in contact with me? That you came back here and screwed everything up?"
Hermione's mouth opened and then closed, as though she couldn't figure out what to say. She bit her lip.
"What, don't you have anything to say?" Draco said maliciously, his emotions getting the better of him.
"Oh, I have plenty to say, Draco," Hermione fired back. "But none of it seems to matter to you, does it? You won't ever forgive me, no matter what I do!"
"Because you haven't done anything to make me forgive you!" Draco exclaimed, exasperated. "What do you expect from me?"
"Just to talk to you, Draco! That's all!" Hermione cried, almost in tears. "Like you used to! You hated me before then, too, Draco, and you managed to! So did I!"
"But I don't want to!" Draco exclaimed.
"Please, Draco," Hermione said, her voice growing softer. "I miss you."
"How?" Draco asked, utterly bewildered. "How?" He repeated, almost demanding an answer.
"I don't know!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "I just do! I miss talking to you!"
"After four bloody years? Are you kidding me?! I'm not even the same person as I was then. And neither are you," Draco spat, thoroughly infuriated.
"You're delusional, Granger." He continued, turning away from her.
"No, I'm not!" Hermione retorted. She paused, then took a deep breath. "Draco, you can't live with all of this inside of you," she continued, her voice suddenly calm. "And neither can I. We have to talk about it. You can't keep it bottled up."
"Watch me," Draco said, storming past her and heading right out of the flat.