Chapter 27
Hermione woke the next morning, safe and sound in her dorm. She had no memory of how she got there exactly, which seemed weird to her. She grabbed her stuff and got dressed quickly, noticing she was already late to breakfast. As she ran down the stairs, someone grabbed her arm and pulled her into an empty classroom.
"What the hell?" she hissed, allowing her eyes a second to get used to the darkness.
"You've got some explaining to do," she heard a familiar voice. His red hair stood out against the grey classroom.
"Why?" she asked, puzzled.
"You laid into Harry yesterday, screaming about him almost killing Malfoy. Then you bolted and spent the entire night by the git's side. Care to explain?" Hermione frowned. She spent the night by Malfoy's bed?
"Harry shouldn't have used that spell, and you know it. He could've killed someone." Hermione started.
"Yes, that I know, what I don't know is why you were so upset about Malfoy. He's an ass, Hermione," he took a few steps towards her and grabbed her hand. She knew he was right. Draco Malfoy was not a nice person. He had tormented her over the years, insulted her, treated her as if she was less than the filth underneath his shoe. Yet, her body was telling her something different. Her body was telling her something she couldn't quite place or name.
"Hermione," Ron's finger traced down her cheek. She looked up at him, the boy she used to be in love with, but now she felt nothing but friendship. What was wrong with her.
"I don't know," she answered honestly. He pulled her into a hug, wrapping her in his arms and protectively placing one hand atop her head.
"It's okay, we all freak out sometimes, he whispered against her hair. He held her there for a little while, softly caressing her hair. Hermione tried, she tried so very hard to feel at ease with his arms around her. But everything about it felt wrong and her entire body was telling her to run.
Draco hadn't slept at all after she left the night before. He felt terrible about what he had done. He had gotten her back for all of a few minutes, and then he took it all away. Every memory she had about their time in the past, about his love for her, about everything that they gotten through for each other. She would no longer remember how much he loved her and that she loved him, too. She wouldn't remember their tragic, but epic love story. He had taken that from her, to protect her. He had spent the last couple of months desperately trying to get her to remember and now he had made her forget. It hurt him more than he could ever explain, but at least she would be safe staying away from him, at least she would survive this war. Tonight was the night war would finally reach Hogwarts, the last truly safe place he had left would be taken from him today. It would also be taken from all other students and it would put all muggleborn students in peril, but he had no choice. At least she would be relatively safe around Potter, he would never let anything bad happen to her.
Hours later, when it was dark out, Draco got out of his hospital bed. His bare feet touching the cold stone floor. He got dressed and made his way to the room of requirement. His heart beating loudly in his ears and growing stronger with each step he took. He wanted to turn and run, he wanted to find Hermione and grab her, take her far away and wait for all this to be over. But he had to do this, he owed his mother that much. When he finally stood in front of the large doors, it didn't take him long to visualize what he was looking for, throwing them open seconds later. They were already there, waiting for him, looking menacing and evil. His aunt threw her arms around him.
"Well done, Draco," she whispered soflty in his ear.
"Now, go finish your task." She nudged him out the door and Draco dreaded what he would have to do next. He left the company of evil wizards in his wake, they would be dealing with other things. He had been studying Dumbledore's habits for the past few weeks. He spent his nights stargazing before going to sleep after a nice shot of firewhiskey. Yes, he was very thorough in his research. He made his way up the stairs, feeling like he was walking up the the gallows, dreading so desperately what he needed to do.
Hermione was patrolling the halls with Ron tonight, Harry had asked them to, since he had been suspecting an attack was imminent. Apparently, she had been doing it for a while, but she couldn't seem to remember that at all. Her memory seemed to be failing her miserably, like there were big chunks missing, months, actually. And her memory seemed even more foggy when thinking about Draco Malfoy. Everytime Harry brought up the young Slytherin, her mind got so scrambled, like a mist invaded and everything surrounding the blonde haired boy was vague and incomprehensible. She remembered seeing him bleeding on the floor, but she couldn't remember running towards him. She remembered his face as he was talking to her, but she couldn't make out what he was saying, it sounded distorted, as if someone had tampered with the sound recording. She felt herself drawn towards him anyways, and she couldn't understand why. Maybe it was because Harry was convinced he was a deatheater and she had been hearing about him for the past couple of months? In any case, it made her restless. Ron grabbed her hand, pulling her back into reality.
"You alright?" he asked, his thumb softly brushing over the back of her hand. She smiled at him, baring her teeth in an attempt to mask her confliction.
"I'm fine, just a little tired," she answered.
"Me too," he answered.
"The sky is restless, I think there'll be a storm tonight," she noticed staring out of a window. The sky was that stormy grey it only was when a storm was incoming. Dark clouds blocking the moon that occasionally came out for a second. It was one of these seconds of bright moonlight that struck a nerve with Hermione. A memory, or at least something like that, came flooding in. She saw stormy grey eyes, filled with love and care, and she saw platinum blonde strands of hair falling in front of them, She saw streaks of red blood on the alabaster skin of the face with the grey eyes. It was there one second, and the next it was gone. Like a deja vu, or something like that. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. It was then she noticed that very same blonde haired boy sneaking into the astronomy tower stairwell, and her Gryffindor courage kicked in.
"Hey, Ron, I just remembered something, I'll be right back," she didn't wait for Ron's response and just ran as fast as she could, determined to catch up with the Slytherin.
He wasn't there, Dumbledore wasn't where he was supposed to be. Draco was sinking into a panic. If he wasn't able to fulfill his task, he would meet his end soon enough. He needed to see this through, there was no other way. Maybe he could just go to the old man's office? He knew the password, he had seen Harry utter it plenty of times. Yes, that would be the plan, he would go there and the old man would be there. He turned and made his way down, reaching the room underneath the top level in seconds. It was there he met the ember eyes that haunted his dreams. Her wand threateningly pointed towards him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, forgetting his place in all his worry.
"I need some answers," she uttered, sounding slightly confused but very determined. Draco didn't have time for this, he needed to get out.
"What answers could I possibly have for you, Granger," he hissed, trying desperately to add as much venom as possible to his voice.
"Why do I keep seeing fragments of memories with you in them?" His eyes grew big. She shouldn't be seeing anything of those memories.
"Well, we've been classmates for a while now, I would think you'd have some memories of me." He tried to sound confident, throwing her off his scent.
"No, those aren't the memories I'm talking about." He bit his lip. "I see you, your eyes, looking at me and I see blood, and .. " she broke off, as if there was something she didn't want him to know. Draco's panicked mind was searching for a way out. She shouldn't know any of this, he was very skilled at memory charms, learned from the master himself.
"Maybe because you punched me in our second year," he tried. She shook her head.
"No, I can remember everything about that moment and it's crystal clear." She remained quiet for a little while and he followed her example. "Why do I feel like this?" she finally asked, her voice breaking.
"Like what?" he asked, feeling like his heart was getting the upper hand.
"Like there is something I'm missing, a piece of myself. Like there is a part of me missing," a tear rolled down her cheek and all he wanted to do was hold her. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and take her away. He wanted to kiss her and tell her everything would be alright.
"Why do I feel drawn to you?" she whispered, barely audible. He took a step towards her, forgetting everything about his task.
"Her... Granger," he whispered, wrapping one of his hands around hers, her wand now poking his jugular.
"Why?" she repeated, tears streaming down her cheeks. He had messed up somehow, she was confused and hurt over something she couldn't remember.
"Please tell me," she repeated. He shook his head, his other hand carefully grabbing his own wand from his pocket. He took another step, and Hermione took one backwards. She ended up with her back against the wall and had nowhere left to run.
"I'm sorry," he whispered before casting a quick stupify and stunning the girl where she stood. Her unconscious body sliding down the wall, he grabbed her to prevent her from getting hurt and hid her under the stairs, where he was sure she would be safe. He pressed a soft kiss on her lips and turned around, he still had a job to do. He wiped the tears from his eyes and started walking down the stairs. That's when he heard the familiar pop at the top of the stairs, followed by the familiar voice of the headmaster.
Later, Hermione would find out from Harry that he found her there, unconscious. She would also hear that Dumbledore died, or rather, was murdered and that Draco Malfoy was to blame for it all. The next morning, after the funeral, she joined Harry in the astronomy tower, where he stood looking over the grounds.
"We've got to find them, Hermione," he whispered, the locket firmly clasped in his hands.
"I know," she whispered.
"I have no idea where they are," he continued.
"We'll figure it out, Harry." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it softly. "You, Ron and me, we'll figure it out."