Chapter 24 - There are always choices

Hermione is spending a peaceful evening in the library with Harry and Ron when Theo shows up to tell her that Draco is awake.

"Thank you, Theo," she says. "I'll go see him tomorrow."

She turns back to her herbology essay. She has the vague sense that significant looks are being exchanged around her, but doggedly resists raising her head to check.

"Er, alright then," Theo says. "Just wanted to let you know."

"Thank you." She doesn't look up and a moment later she hears his retreating footsteps.

It's great that Draco's awake. Of course it is. That means he's getting better. It also means she'll have to talk to him, which — well. Is less great.

"Hermione?" Ron asks gently. He's been doing that a lot this week. Being gentle, being polite. It's how she knows Harry told him everything. Which is fine. She wanted Ron to know, but is grateful to not have to have had the conversation herself.

"Yes?"

"Um, what — er, how do you — um, are you —"

"I'm fine, thank you. Could you pass the book with the diagrams?"

She just wanted to have a normal evening, to sink into her homework and forget about Draco and Voldemort and everything else for a couple hours. Though perhaps the 'normal' ship has sailed.

Harry starts to pass her the book and then stops. "I know you don't want to talk about it —"

"Then don't ask me."

"But we just want to know, er, what you plan on doing?"

Hermione slams down her quill and looks between Harry and Ron, her eyes flashing.

"I'm not going to see him anymore, is that what you want to hear? I'm going in the morning to tell him it's over. Pass me the bloody book."

She spends the next couple hours working on a strongly worded herbology essay, with rather heavier ink than usual.

In the morning, Hermione has no doubts. She has some wonderings — How will he react? How will she deal with seeing him in class and around the castle? What will this mean for his choices in the fight ahead?

What will it feel like to break her own heart?

But she is certain. She has to do this, has to end it. There's no alternative. It will be the right thing, for both of them. She has no doubts.

That said, her heart pounds in her chest as she marches grimly up to the hospital wing on Saturday morning.

When she opens the door she's relieved to find he has no prior visitors and is awake, sitting propped up in bed, a book open in front of his nose.

"Hello," she says softly, approaching him slowly.

"Granger," he smiles, setting his book aside. "I'm sorry I was late for breakfast."

"What? But it's still — Oh, you mean on the day you were hurt, yes. Thank you."

He frowns a little when she doesn't laugh at his joke. "You alright?"

She doesn't answer until she's pulled a chair up next to his bed and sat down. She crosses and uncrosses her legs.

"I'm fine," she says. "I'm glad you're doing better. Do you feel okay?"

"I guess," he says slowly. "Apparently, I've regained nearly my entire blood volume. And the pain is already better than yesterday."

"Good," she says. "That's good."

They lapse into an awkward silence, Hermione looking anywhere but at Draco's face. She just has to say it. Any second now.

"How have you been?" Draco inquires eventually.

"I —" she says. "Well, I've been doing some thinking. About um, you. And us. And well, I'm not sure…" Her eyes remain downcast, catching on his pale, thin hands. "I'm not sure any of this has been a good idea."

She swallows and chances a look at his face. His grey eyes stare back at her, tight and narrowed as he studies her face.

"Why do you sound different than when you've said that before?" he asks, his enunciation exaggeratedly clear "That's always been true. What are you really saying?"

"I'm saying that it's not smart for us to be… involved. We shouldn't see each other anymore."

Her heart pounds and an odd ringing starts in her ears.

"Oh," Draco says. Then, a moment later, "Is this about Potter? I knew it, you are mad at me."

"Yes," she says emphatically. "Of course I am. The cruciatus curse, Draco? It's an unforgivable for a reason."

"I can explain," he says, the words leaping out of his mouth and falling over each other. "It just slipped out, I wasn't thinking. And it didn't even land anyway! Potter's fine — and he did worse to me, as you can see."

"He didn't know what his spell did. You did." She shakes her head sadly. "And anyway, it's not just that you attacked Harry. It's that you poisoned Ron and cursed Katie Bell and planned to murder the headmaster and bragged about sleeping with me and called me a mudblood when we were kids and bullied Harry and Neville and have his mark on your arm. It's too much, Draco. And a lot of it was out of your control, I know. But a lot of it wasn't. And even the stuff that was… most people would have gotten out sooner."

"You knew all that already, Hermione," Draco says, his voice getting louder and taking on a harsher edge. "You're just scared. Now that people know, you want out. I fucking knew you would do this."

Hermione jumps up from her chair. "See? This is exactly the sort of behaviour I've had enough of."

"Fine," he snarls. "I can do better anyway."

Hermione staggers a little at his words, then races from the room. She makes it almost halfway down the hallway before the first sob rips from her chest.

"I can't fucking do better!" Draco wails, pacing around an empty classroom a couple of days later. After he woke up, his convalescence was quick and he's basically as good as new — other than the broken heart. "Why did I say that?"

Theo shrugs.

"Because she hurt you and you wanted to hurt her back," Pansy says, not looking up from where she appears to be examining her finger nails.

"I wasn't actually asking," Draco snaps. He whirls around on his heel and continues pacing.

He's been at this for nearly an hour, after dragging Theo and Pansy from the library and the Slytherin common room, respectively, and pulling them into an empty classroom. He said he wanted their help, but so far all that's happened has been an in-depth and repetitive analysis of every word said when Hermione visited him in the hospital wing.

"She's just being so unreasonable!"

"Is she?" Pansy murmurs.

"I literally didn't even crucio him! He's the one who almost killed me! It's not fair!"

"Ah, yes, because life is known for being fair," Pansy remarks.

Draco finally stops pacing and throws himself theatrically onto a table, lying on his back with his legs dangling over the edge. "It was just so sudden," he mumbles. "One day everything was fine — more than fine, it was amazing — and then she's just had enough. I make one mistake and it's just over? She's gone?"

"From your excessive recounting of everything she said, I've gathered that it was more than one mistake, no?" Pansy, it would appear, is going for the 'tough love' route.

Theo on the other hand, is largely going the silent route. He just doesn't quite know what to say. Also, it seems like Pansy's got this.

"But I thought —'' Draco starts, his voice sounding a touch watery, "— I thought she understood, I thought she — I thought she liked me anyway." That last bit is barely audible.

Pansy gives him thirty seconds to stew in his misery.

"Okay." She stands and walks over to Draco and tugs on his arm to pull him into a sitting position. "What are you going to do about it?"

"What can I do about it?" he says miserably. "She's gone."

"If you say so," Pansy says, shrugging.

"No wait, Pansy! Help me!" Draco whines. "What do I do? How do I get her back?"

She just raises her eyebrows at Draco.

"Please?" he asks.

"Ah, see, look at you being considerate. You're learning already."

"Pansy," Draco groans.

Pansy hops up on the table next to Draco and throws an arm around his shoulders.

"Well," she says, "what would make Granger change her mind?"

"I don't know!" Draco despairs. "That's why I'm asking you!"

"But for it to be real it has to be your idea. Now," she orders, "think."

Draco does, furrowing his brow in concentration. "Okay," he says. "It all comes down to him. I never would have learned how to cast the curse if it wasn't for him. Or done most of the other stuff she was mad about." He jumps abruptly from the table. "I'm going to destroy the cabinet."

Theo and Pansy both jump to their feet as well and Theo runs to stand in front of Draco, blocking his exit from the room.

"Slow down, Draco. You're not going anywhere."

Draco draws his wand like he's preparing to overpower Theo, but Pansy casts a quick expelliarmus and catches Draco's wand lazily.

"Yeah," she says. "I was thinking more like an apology or something."

"No!" Draco protests. "That won't be enough. I have to destroy the cabinet, that's the only way she'll know I'm on her side!"

"The only way?" Pansy deadpans. "You came up with that five seconds ago and you haven't considered a single other option."

"And remember your parents?" Theo interjects. "And, you know, the Dark Lord?"

"I can figure that out later," Draco says, heading for the door. Theo jumps into his path again. "Move."

"Not quite so threatening without your wand, are you?" Theo lets himself smirk. "Sit down, you can keep talking."

"I've done enough talking," Draco declares. "Time for action."

"God," Theo mutters. "Now who's the bloody Gryffindor."

"Also," Pansy adds, "have you considered the possibility that Granger will not be at all impressed by this? For one, she seems like the type to frown on impulsivity. And it will be incredibly obvious that you're just doing this to try to get her back. She won't forgive you unless she thinks you're doing it for like, noble, moral reasons. All this will prove is that you're selfish and can't handle rejection."

Draco stares at her for a long moment. "No," he says, shaking his head. "No, she's all about helping people and taking action. This is an action. This helps people. Also it's not selfish, it's incredibly dangerous. She'll think I'm brave and generous."

Pansy purses her lips.

Draco turns to Theo for support. He really should have seen this coming.

"Er," Theo says. "You sure you don't want to sleep on it? Take a few days?"

"No!" Draco proclaims. "I have to go fast so she knows I'm serious. Pansy, give me my wand."

He holds out his hand.

"Ha," Pansy says flatly.

"Fine! I don't need it! Just something to hit it with. I'm gonna smash that fucking thing to pieces."

He makes for the door, and this time Theo lets him go, instead following him down the hall. Draco's making a beeline for the staircase up to the seventh floor

It's not that Theo thinks it's a bad idea — he just thinks it's a stupid one. He's all for the cabinet being destroyed. But like, some sort of safety plan for angering the Dark Lord might be a good call? And also — Pansy's right. Hermione's going to see right through this.

Theo catches up to Draco in front of the troll tapestry and watches the door to the Room of Requirement open. He hesitates for a moment before following him in, remembering the last time he was here when he held the crown. What if he wants to pick it up again and can't stop himself?

But he can't let Draco go unsupervised, so in he goes. At first he'd thought Pansy was right behind him, but she's nowhere to be found.

Inside the Room, Draco knows just where to go. Theo hadn't fully appreciated the amount of time Draco spent in here until he watches him march a complex path through the piles of rubble, grab an axe from among a collection of various garden tools, and march through a different, though equally complex path to the vanishing cabinet.

Theo watches as Draco lifts the axe, ready to strike. Then he lowers it, pausing, before he takes a deep breath, raises the axe again, and strikes in one swift motion. A crack forms in the door. Draco swings again and cracks open the side. He smashes through the inside platform and the back panel and the other door and the side and the top and he keeps smashing until the thing is but a pile of kindling.

"Fuck," Theo mutters.

The whole process is over in the blink of an eye, and the first thing Theo feels is relief. The portal into the castle is closed. But the worry rises up quickly, as he takes in Draco's shaking form, and thinks about the danger he's now in.

But when Draco turns around, he's laughing. Hysterically, wheezily, giddily.

"Woo!" Draco cries, whooping and cheering as he tosses the axe carelessly on the pile of cabinet shards.

He runs a circle down the aisle and around a pile of antique dishware and faded curtains, only to come back and jump on Theo's back.

"Yessss!" he screams. The echo careens around the room. "Fuck, that felt good. I've got to go tell Granger."

He hops off Theo's back and heads for the door. Theo trails behind him through the hallway, listening to his excited chatter. He's never seen Draco quite like this. Possibly his brain has been addled by the residual effects of blood loss.

Draco is never impulsive. He's a Slytherin through and through, thinking about his every move several steps ahead. It's like he's finally let go.

"I'm done being controlled," Draco announces. "Not by him, not by anyone. I'm my own man now. I'm going to get in touch with Mother before anyone finds out and she can leave the house — and as for my father, he got me into this, he can get himself out of it. But I'm going to send an owl to Mother, then I'm going to tell Granger —"

"Tell her what, Mr. Malfoy?"

The looming form of Severus Snape appears, bat-like and sneering, directly in Draco and Theo's path as they round a corner. His icy black glare, even colder and harsher than usual, reveals that he's heard far too much of Draco's speech.

For a second, Draco falters and Theo expects a nothing sir, don't worry.

Then he squares his shoulders and his face twists into a smirk, Draco's default expression for hiding fear.

"I'm done," he says, nearly spitting he's enunciating so clearly. "I'm not fixing that cabinet, I'm not letting Death Eaters in the school and I am sure as hell not committing murder for that fucking psychopath."

Snape's deathly complexion becomes even paler.

"That is very… interesting, Draco," he says slowly. "However, I am unsure where you got the impression that you had a choice, or indeed, that you had permission to share the Dark Lord's secrets with Mr. Nott. You will continue, as planned. Do not forget the consequences — for all of us."

"I was wrong," Draco begins.

"I am glad to hear that acknowledgement, now —"

"No," he interrupts. "I was wrong before, wrong this whole time. I do have a choice. There are always choices. I'm done."

"NO!" Snape raises his voice. "You are not! You will do as you're told!"

"It's already done," Draco sneers. "The cabinet is destroyed. If you want to do his bidding, you're on your own."

Snape talks a single, shaky step backward. "You have no idea, Mr. Malfoy, no idea of what you've done."

"I should have done it ages ago."

"I swore to your mother I would protect you to the best of my ability, but this — this is out of my hands. The Dark Lord will find out, and when he does, there will be nothing I can do for you."

Hermione embarks on an aggressive campaign of normalcy. She spends more time with her Gryffindor friends than she has all year. Harry and Ron of course, but Ginny too. The four of them had spent the whole day following the breakup strolling around the grounds, enjoying the first sunny, warm weather of the season.

It turns out that breakups were in the air. Ginny and Dean had split the previous week, and Ron and Lavender shortly after. Perhaps the door was open for things to end up exactly how she used to expect — Harry and Ginny, herself and Ron.

Not that she was ready to think about that. Imagining kissing Ron was like imagining going to muggle secondary school — fine in theory, but bland and empty in comparison to what she now knew to be possible.

For the first few days, she did think about Draco frequently — basically always. She would flip back and forth between righteous anger, sadness, and a weird sort of bittersweet joy that at least it had happened, at least she'd gotten to experience it.

She thought often about the last night they spent together, before everything fell apart — she thought it would be a beginning, but it turned out to be an ending. In a way, that felt right.

But then again, that felt awful. She had been so hopeful for a future and then been crushed. It was ridiculous anyway — as if she could ever have a future with Malfoy.

The first few days were not the hard part, it turned out. The hard part was when he was out of the hospital wing and back in Slytherin. She skipped more than one meal in avoidance and made sure to stay out of the common room at all costs. She made sure to not even look at the couch by the fire.

Her streak of successful avoidance comes to an abrupt halt during one such hasty trip through the common room to her dorm.

Draco's there, leaning against the door to the sixth year girl's dormitory, looking dangerously pleased with himself.

"I don't want to talk," she says tiredly, hoping he'll just move out of the way. She tries to shove past him.

"Slow down, Granger," he says, mouth twisting up into that smirk of his. "You don't have to talk, only listen."

"I don't want to listen either, Draco. Just let me past, please."

"I destroyed the cabinet."

In spite of herself, that gets her attention. Her eyes snap up to his face. "What?"

"I smashed it to pieces with an axe."

"What?"

"It was the right thing to do. Protecting the school is more important than protecting myself, I've already warned my mother, and I'll deal with anything else that happens. Hermione," he says, voice low and gentle, "I'm on your side — the right side. Not his. Whatever mark I have on my arm, whatever I've done in the past, I promise. That's over. I'm going to fight him, Hermione. I'm going to fight him with you."

"Oh," she says. "That's, um, that's — good for you, Draco."

She's not quite sure what to say. He's changing sides? Officially? What about Voldemort? He can summon him anytime. And an axe? Why? And a letter to his mother? That's it? That's all it took?

"Yeah," he says. "It is good. It's great, actually. I feel — lighter. Like I've finally figured out where I'm supposed to be — who I'm supposed to be. And it's all thanks to you."

Hermione manages a half-smile and she's about to ask one of her million questions, when Draco steps towards her, his head bent forward… She leaps out of the way.

"No," she says, shaking her head.

Draco gapes at her, like he's genuinely shocked, and it takes a moment for the hurt to begin to creep over his features.

And there's a part of her that aches. That wants desperately to give in, to let herself fall into him again and damn the consequences. But that doesn't matter now. She's made her choice, and she's not going to unmake it at the first temptation.

"I — I'm glad you've figured some stuff out, Draco, really," she says, as gently as she can. "But that doesn't change anything with us. You know it was about more than this one thing and, well, I'm not going to change my mind. I can put you in touch with people in the Order, you'll need protection when the school year's over, but that's all I can do for you."

"Oh," Draco says. He silently steps away from her door. As he's turning to leave, he says, "I'm sorry, for what it's worth. About Potter, and everything else you said. I'm sorry."