"I can go die in a fire?"
Draco paced up and down the dormitory with long strides. He could not believe what Theo just told him.
"Hey, man, I'm just saying what she said!", Theo defended himself.
Angrily, Draco turned to his friend sitting on the bed. "Why were you even talking to her? It's none of your business!"
"Oh, come on!" Blaise now interfered, who was lying on his stomach flicking through a magazine, bored. "You're not telling us what's going on, so we'll look for answers elsewhere."
Draco could not believe what he was hearing. Did they really not understand that it felt to him as if they had just stabbed him in the back? If he said he did not want to talk about it, then that meant they should not have to stick their noses in his business. With two long strides he was at his own bed and flopped backwards onto it.
"I just want to get through the school year in peace!" he muttered quietly to himself. "Just ... be left alone and not be in trouble. Is that really too much to ask?"
His two friends were silent and it was better that way. Hot anger still pumped adrenaline throughout his body, but Draco felt he had no desire to do anything about it. The feeling of loneliness crept up inside him again. Even though his two best friends were in the same room with him, he felt like he was completely alone. At least the two of them were here by choice and knew exactly what they wanted to do in the future. They had a goal to work towards.
He, on the other hand, felt more and more lost. The vicious looks from the other students who were not in Slytherin told him clearly that he was no longer wanted in the wizarding world. There was no place for him in the future. Granger had made that abundantly clear to him: No one would want to be seen with him in public. Anyone who was in any way related to him would be ashamed.
Frustrated, he drew the curtains around his bed and pulled the covers over him. He did not care that he was still dressed. He did not care that Blaise and Theo were probably whispering quietly about him now. He did not care about anything at all.
oOoOoOo
She intended to just ignore Malfoy in the future, she really did. It had worked well all those years before, so what could go wrong?
But when she saw him at the other end of the corridor completely alone, all thoughts of that disappeared from her mind. Before she realised what she was about to do, she walked up to him, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him into the nearest classroom. She dropped her school bag on the floor and turned to Malfoy.
"What are you doing?" he demanded to know as soon as the door slammed shut behind them.
"I've had enough of you, Draco Malfoy," Hermione spat. "You have no right to say any nonsense about me. Your friends are just going to ambush me now? Are you mad?"
Her anger exploded as she saw Malfoy stand up in front of her, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes flashing. "I didn't say anything! What those two idiots do is their business. You're the one who wanted it that way! You're the one who wanted us not to talk about it! Please, I did exactly that!"
Outraged, she jabbed a finger against his chest. "Don't act like you're the victim here! You got what you wanted, didn't you? I'm not in the mood for your drama."
"My drama?" Malfoy almost shouted those words. Before she knew it, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her against the cold stone wall behind her. "My drama? I did exactly what you wanted: I kept my mouth shut and said nothing. You're the one who laughed at me behind closed doors."
She stared up at the blond man in front of her with wide eyes. Hermione suddenly realised that her wand was still in her school bag, which was now lying on the floor a few metres away from her. Her anger vanished, leaving nothing but ice-cold panic. She tried to resist his firm grip, but her muscles failed her. Unable to move, she stood there. Her breath raced and she felt dizzy. He would kill her. She was alone and unarmed and no one would know. He would kill her and no one would know. She could not breathe. No matter how much air she breathed, it was not enough.
Suddenly, burning pain spread across her face. It took Hermione a moment to understand what had happened.
Draco Malfoy had hit her.
Shocked, but back in the here and now, she looked to him.
He took two large steps away from her and buried his hands deep in his trouser pockets. His lips were twisted into a thin line while his eyes looked anywhere but at her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "You were kind of ... gone. You stopped responding to what I was saying."
Blushing, she turned to the side. It had not happened in a long time and she had thought she was finally over it. Obviously, she was wrong. She placed her hands on the table and closed her eyes, concentrating only on her breathing for a few seconds.
Everything was fine. She was at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy was standing in front of her. No one was going to kill her. No one was going to hurt her. She was okay. Everything was okay.
She took another deep breath, which she then expelled very slowly, consciously relaxing every muscle in her body. Then she looked back at Malfoy, who was leaning against a table, waiting.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I ... sometimes I have these ... flashbacks. It's not your fault, that's all ... it's me. I thought I had a handle on it, but obviously not, and now it's happened again, and I can imagine how weird that was for you."
"Hey," Malfoy interrupted her, "hey, Granger. Take it easy. It's all good, okay? You don't have to apologise for anything. It's my fault." He ran a hand through his hair. "I shouldn't have backed you into a corner like that. I can imagine that's uncomfortable."
"No, no!" she protested immediately, taking a step towards him. "You can't know that. It's all in my head. Since Greyback ... ah, it doesn't matter either. It's not your problem."
She was about to walk past him to reach for her bag, but he stepped in her way. Surprised, she looked up at him.
"Granger," he said slowly, finally looking her in the eye. "You don't have to explain yourself. The war has changed us all. That's okay."
Hermione felt tears in her eyes, but she blinked them away. "Yeah, well, the war is over. We have to get on with the here and now."
Again, she tried to step past him, but again he blocked the way. He did not touch her, as if he was deliberately being careful not to threaten her, but he did not let her pass either.
"Sometimes it can help to take your mind off thoughts like that."
Hermione swallowed. The words sounded innocent, but the way Draco was looking at her clearly signalled what he meant. Part of her was still angry with him. Part of her wanted to scream at him and ask him if he had gone mad.
But a much bigger part just wanted to sink into his arms and forget everything. He had recognised her panic and pulled her out, reassuring her that she was okay. That was more than anyone had done for her in months. He did not question her fear. Maybe he had base motives. Maybe he would turn on her again afterwards and attack her angrily.
But the real Draco Malfoy suddenly bore traits that fantasy Draco had, and she could not resist the temptation. She simply could not.