A/N: I'm on a roll with this, I tell you! The ideas just keep coming and coming and coming...anyways, I'm happy with that and you're happy with that and not much has changed since yesterday so I'll quit annoying you and you can start reading....
Oh, yeah...everything except the plot belongs to JK Rowling
DEFEATED WE RISE
Chapter Four: At Which Point Harry Enters the Picture...
It was awfully strange being so close to him, and talking to him like this. I watched as he mulled over where to begin, his cloudy gray eyes boring into mine.
"Tell you my story? What is there to tell?" he paused and looked at his lap, and I knew that, just like I trusted him, he, for that unfathomable reason, wanted to tell me. "I was raised in a household with two parents who didn't love each other, because their marriage had been arranged. My father had a different lady come to visit him weekly. My mother often takes long vacations to Paris, where she meets up with some guy named Pierre. My own marriage was arranged before my birth. My parents refuse to tell me whom it is they're marrying me off to, but it's mapped out. I agree with my parents' ways, I agree with their beliefs, I wholeheartedly think this planet would be a better place without the likes of you around; except for their beliefs on love. I won't marry some rich bitch I've never met!" He paused, took a deep breath and continued, "I was initiated when I turned 13. It was the best moment of my life. I killed my first muggle that night. Yeah, that's right, Granger. I'm a blood-thirsty bastard and that's my life. Your turn."
I looked at him with wide eyes. I knew he was a Death Eater, but the thought of him actually killing someone had never crossed my mind. I began to feel sick. I swallowed hard and thought about my own life instead.
"Well...when I was a kid, I was always sort of the outcast because I was 'weird'-I grew up with muggles, and, at that point, didn't know there was another way to be...so some of the things that I brought about confused me. I saw a lot of psychiatrists when I was little. Mum and dad, they were dentists, muggle tooth doctors, that is. They ran their own practice, and I spent all my summers working there, filing papers and such. When I got my letter accepting me to Hogwarts, my parents...well, after getting over the initial shock, were incredibly supportive. They told all our relatives that I had been accepted into some prestigious American academy or something. Then I met Harry and Ron...and I guess you basically know the rest. There really isn't anything else to add."
I looked over at him, looking at me. We sat like that for what seemed like eons, staring at each other, and trying to make sense of what exactly we were doing. I won't pretend it was a particularly magical moment, because it wasn't. We were just staring, that's all.
He reached over and began to unwrap the bandage on my left arm. I just watched as he peeled layer after layer of white cloth off, and then threw it aside.
"Granger, why are you doing this to yourself?" the way he looked at me, I could tell that it hurt him to see my arm like that; the way he said my last name made it sound sweeter than in the past; I finally realized that the difference was that Malfoy actually seemed to care.
"I..." I looked up at him. He was holding my wrist, gently, in his two hands, and tracing over my scars much as I had traced over his only this morning. It was, on the whole, a very strange experience, because I knew that the same hands that were handling my own so gently, so kindly and carefully, joyfully killed my kind, would joyfully choke the life from those like me; had done so, apparently.
I looked up at him in confusion. "Malfoy, I'm so confused! You say you hate me, yet you help me, save me, force life back into me! And worst of all, I don't know why it is that I go along with it all so readily! I hate you, too, you know! I-I just don't understand what we're doing..."
He looked at me with a sort of half-grin on his face, as he moved a little closer towards me. His voice was much softer than usual, it had taken on a strange, enigmatic quality that I had heard him use very few times, and never to me. "I've been thinking a lot about all of that too, you know. I think it's because the blind lead the blind, and we're the only two blind souls around. Or maybe we're the only ones who see."
"Malfoy, this is what I don't understand about you. You seemed always so sure in your path-you were Malfoy heir, you were cruel and cold, conniving. You were, clearly, working towards the great Slytherin dream of being Voldemort's right hand, or whatever. You had it all planned out, so meticulously, and then, suddenly, here you are, helping me fight my battle, which, if you help me win, will destroy everything you work towards. I'm afraid I'm a little confused..."
"Granger, this is what I don't understand about you. You seemed always so sure in your path-you were top of the class, top of the grade, top of the school. You were part of the little trio of heroes. You were bright, happy, and scornful of everything dark, evil and messy. You had all these great walls of support built up. You were strong. Then, there I am, walking along, simply minding my own fucking business, and you topple out of a portrait bloody and almost dead. And that is where everything got so damn confusing."
"Tell me what was so confusing about that? You wanted me dead, why couldn't you just walk on and pretend like you hadn't seen me?"
"Because..." He looked once more into his lap, pausing, obviously not particularly wishing to say whatever it was he was about to. "Because, Granger, you may be a mudblood, you may be everything I hate, but you're so damn admirable. You're loyal, which is more than I can say for most people I know, you're sweet, and even when your dearest friends leave you for two halfwit girls, you're still forgiving. You're the Dark Lord's worst enemy, not Harry, only no one seems to have realized it. And while I'm not being particularly loyal to Him in helping you regain your strength, I'm being loyal to me, because, first off, it would be an awesome battle to watch, and secondly, as a...boy...and as a human, when I look into your eyes I see boy to girl, not pureblood to mudblood. I see equal to equal, because you're the only person I've ever met who can challenge my wit. And I figure if I let that die, I'd be awfully bored."
I looked at him, and grinned. I felt like I had in the infirmary with him, and I mimicked his earlier self, commanding,
"Stand up." He looked at me questioningly, but did so. I followed suit, and then I wrapped him in a hug.
It was at this very moment that Harry came bursting, out of breath, into the Tower.
"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?" He had clearly been running for quite awhile, and had his wand pointed straight at Draco's chest.
"Harry, please just put the wand down. I can explain...I think."
Harry looked over the situation again, and realized that when he had bombarded upon us, we had been quickly getting out of an embrace-that Draco hadn't been attacking me.
"What the hell is going on?" This time he spoke in an almost awed whisper, drawing each word out so that it was long and slow.
I looked at Draco, but his face had completely closed off to me and was sneering coldly at Harry. I was on my own with this, apparently.
"Well..." I took a deep breath and took a step closer to Harry. "You see, Harry...Dra-I mean, Malfoy's been...well, you see, he saved my life."
Harry was looking at me suspiciously, but still seemed to prefer to lay all the blame on Draco.
"Yeah, Hermione, I know he saved your life. But that doesn't mean you have to go meeting him in Towers at odd hours of the night. It doesn't mean that you have to spend the whole bloody day with him, and then lie to all of us by saying that you were with McGonnagal! Maybe Ginny, who doesn't know you so well, maybe Ron, who's got a lot of his own problems to deal with, maybe they think that that was a perfectly reasonable excuse. But I, Christ, Hermione, I'm one of your best friends and I notice when too many odd 'coincidences' add up. For the last time, what's going on?"
"Nothing's going on, Harry. We were just talking, alright? Don't worry, its not like he's going to hurt me..." Thankfully, Harry didn't notice the snort Draco let out at the irony of this statement. "He's simply being a...friend, alright? I know that you and Ron both have a lot going on in your lives right now, and I don't want to bother you too much. I know the two of you aren't the best of friends," They both snorted at this one. "but please, can you just let me be friends with the both of you?"
***
I noticed the way his eyes melted at her plea. I concentrated on keeping my face completely emotionless, even though my insides were completely shook up, because now that someone knew we were meeting, things could get much more complicated.
"Listen, Hermione, how about you leave me to talk to Malfoy for awhile, alright?" I saw her look at him skeptically, then look over at me, seemingly trying to gauge how safe of a choice that would be, for Harry's sake.
"Uh, Draco, promise you won't kill him?"
I looked at her, and, even though I knew Harry was watching, I let my mask fall a little and I gave her a half-smile. Then I shrugged and answered truthfully. "Depends on my mood."
***
In shock I watched, as the stony glare left his face and he actually smiled at her. He looked almost human when he did that. He answered her with a "Depends on my mood." I knew I was definitely missing something.
She looked back at him, looking a little bit too stern, and a little bit like McGonnagal, before she broke out in a smile. She had seemed to be searching his face. What for, I was unsure, but with a little uneasiness I realized that she really might have been serious when she asked him to promise not to kill me.
"Alright, Harry, I'll leave the two of you to talk, but I have conditions. First of all, you have to call each other by your first names..." I let a small groan escape my mouth, and Malfoy seemed to snarl. "And just be...civil, alright?"
I looked over at Malfoy, and we finally nodded in agreement.
"Well, shake hands." She seemed a little impatient about this, as if it was a given. Grimacing, we went forth and shook each other's hands. Satisfied, she left, red cloak swishing behind her.
Malfoy, I mean, Draco, looked after her for a moment before looking back at me. He said, in an almost inaudible voice, "Some girl, hum?" Then the closed look was back on his face and I knew this was going to be a difficult conversation.
"So what'dya want to talk about, Pott-I mean, Harry?" He said my name in the same scornful way he said 'Potter'.
"I wanted to talk to you about what your exact intentions were with Hermione, Draco." I said his name in a very amiable fashion, just to get on him. It worked, sort of.
"Alright."
"Well, what are they?"
***
What were my intentions? It was hard enough to tell Granger, let alone Potter.
"Well, you see, Harry," I paused. I thoroughly did not enjoy calling him by his first name. "Granger's going through a real rough time, right? I know you've really been trying to help her, and that's great, but I just don't think you've got a clue what you're doing."
"See, this is what I don't understand. I don't understand your sudden personality change towards her. One day, you're being your usual bastard self, and the next you're reprimanding me for not being a good enough friend! What're you trying to pull? Listen, if you think you can take advantage of her 'cause she's weak, you've really got another thing coming because I bloody will kill you!"
The very idea abhorred me. Take advantage of her? Christ. "Potter, there are things about me that you just will never understand. I..." how the hell did I say this without coming off like a complete idiot? "I swear to you with everything important to me in the world, that I truly hate mudbloods. So yes, I really despise Hermione Granger, too. But there's this part of me, see, that also likes her. I'll always look down on her type, but...well, listen, the point is, I would never take advantage of her. Christ. You really think I'm some lowly bit of scum, don't you?"
"Naturally, Malfoy. You and 'Mione...you aren't, um...a couple, are you?"
A couple? Why was it that the idea wasn't totally repulsive? "Christ! Hell, no, Potter."
"Good. Alright, that's all I wanted to talk to you about. I'm satisfied with your attempts to be human, for the moment, Malfoy, but the second I hear that you've hurt her in any way-no, the second I begin to suspect that you might hurt her-you're going to have a lot more to deal with, understood?"
"Yeah, whatever. Sure. One thing, though. You've got to swear that you'll tell no one else about this-I mean, me and her...being...friends, alright? My dad would kill me if he knew!"
He narrowed his eyes at me. "How do I know that this isn't your way of setting us up?"
I sighed in exasperation. "Just trust me, alright? Shit, I really am asking everyone to trust me these days. The fact is, Potter, you know who and what my father is. Maybe you can imagine what his reaction would be to his son being with in a ten-foot radius of a mudblood?" I watched, with relief, as Harry nodded, a slow, comprehending nod. Then he gave me a half smile and I turned around and left him standing alone in the Astronomy Tower to mull over recent events.
***
I pounded my fist against the stone wall. If only these walls could talk, and I could hear what really went on between the two of them. I still wasn't completely sure that Malfoy wasn't manipulating or using Hermione. The very idea made uneasy. There was something askew, that was for sure, but I couldn't place my finger exactly on what it was.
It actually looked like he cared about her. If things were as they seemed, as they had been portrayed to me, then he just might really be the best thing for her. And she would certainly be the best thing for him. The question was, what lie did I tell Ron?
A/N: Not exactly a cliffie this time...would've been, but I decided to write more, give you a longer chapter. So, when does the romance start? Huh? Maybe in the next chapter...we'll see!
Oh, yeah...everything except the plot belongs to JK Rowling
DEFEATED WE RISE
Chapter Four: At Which Point Harry Enters the Picture...
It was awfully strange being so close to him, and talking to him like this. I watched as he mulled over where to begin, his cloudy gray eyes boring into mine.
"Tell you my story? What is there to tell?" he paused and looked at his lap, and I knew that, just like I trusted him, he, for that unfathomable reason, wanted to tell me. "I was raised in a household with two parents who didn't love each other, because their marriage had been arranged. My father had a different lady come to visit him weekly. My mother often takes long vacations to Paris, where she meets up with some guy named Pierre. My own marriage was arranged before my birth. My parents refuse to tell me whom it is they're marrying me off to, but it's mapped out. I agree with my parents' ways, I agree with their beliefs, I wholeheartedly think this planet would be a better place without the likes of you around; except for their beliefs on love. I won't marry some rich bitch I've never met!" He paused, took a deep breath and continued, "I was initiated when I turned 13. It was the best moment of my life. I killed my first muggle that night. Yeah, that's right, Granger. I'm a blood-thirsty bastard and that's my life. Your turn."
I looked at him with wide eyes. I knew he was a Death Eater, but the thought of him actually killing someone had never crossed my mind. I began to feel sick. I swallowed hard and thought about my own life instead.
"Well...when I was a kid, I was always sort of the outcast because I was 'weird'-I grew up with muggles, and, at that point, didn't know there was another way to be...so some of the things that I brought about confused me. I saw a lot of psychiatrists when I was little. Mum and dad, they were dentists, muggle tooth doctors, that is. They ran their own practice, and I spent all my summers working there, filing papers and such. When I got my letter accepting me to Hogwarts, my parents...well, after getting over the initial shock, were incredibly supportive. They told all our relatives that I had been accepted into some prestigious American academy or something. Then I met Harry and Ron...and I guess you basically know the rest. There really isn't anything else to add."
I looked over at him, looking at me. We sat like that for what seemed like eons, staring at each other, and trying to make sense of what exactly we were doing. I won't pretend it was a particularly magical moment, because it wasn't. We were just staring, that's all.
He reached over and began to unwrap the bandage on my left arm. I just watched as he peeled layer after layer of white cloth off, and then threw it aside.
"Granger, why are you doing this to yourself?" the way he looked at me, I could tell that it hurt him to see my arm like that; the way he said my last name made it sound sweeter than in the past; I finally realized that the difference was that Malfoy actually seemed to care.
"I..." I looked up at him. He was holding my wrist, gently, in his two hands, and tracing over my scars much as I had traced over his only this morning. It was, on the whole, a very strange experience, because I knew that the same hands that were handling my own so gently, so kindly and carefully, joyfully killed my kind, would joyfully choke the life from those like me; had done so, apparently.
I looked up at him in confusion. "Malfoy, I'm so confused! You say you hate me, yet you help me, save me, force life back into me! And worst of all, I don't know why it is that I go along with it all so readily! I hate you, too, you know! I-I just don't understand what we're doing..."
He looked at me with a sort of half-grin on his face, as he moved a little closer towards me. His voice was much softer than usual, it had taken on a strange, enigmatic quality that I had heard him use very few times, and never to me. "I've been thinking a lot about all of that too, you know. I think it's because the blind lead the blind, and we're the only two blind souls around. Or maybe we're the only ones who see."
"Malfoy, this is what I don't understand about you. You seemed always so sure in your path-you were Malfoy heir, you were cruel and cold, conniving. You were, clearly, working towards the great Slytherin dream of being Voldemort's right hand, or whatever. You had it all planned out, so meticulously, and then, suddenly, here you are, helping me fight my battle, which, if you help me win, will destroy everything you work towards. I'm afraid I'm a little confused..."
"Granger, this is what I don't understand about you. You seemed always so sure in your path-you were top of the class, top of the grade, top of the school. You were part of the little trio of heroes. You were bright, happy, and scornful of everything dark, evil and messy. You had all these great walls of support built up. You were strong. Then, there I am, walking along, simply minding my own fucking business, and you topple out of a portrait bloody and almost dead. And that is where everything got so damn confusing."
"Tell me what was so confusing about that? You wanted me dead, why couldn't you just walk on and pretend like you hadn't seen me?"
"Because..." He looked once more into his lap, pausing, obviously not particularly wishing to say whatever it was he was about to. "Because, Granger, you may be a mudblood, you may be everything I hate, but you're so damn admirable. You're loyal, which is more than I can say for most people I know, you're sweet, and even when your dearest friends leave you for two halfwit girls, you're still forgiving. You're the Dark Lord's worst enemy, not Harry, only no one seems to have realized it. And while I'm not being particularly loyal to Him in helping you regain your strength, I'm being loyal to me, because, first off, it would be an awesome battle to watch, and secondly, as a...boy...and as a human, when I look into your eyes I see boy to girl, not pureblood to mudblood. I see equal to equal, because you're the only person I've ever met who can challenge my wit. And I figure if I let that die, I'd be awfully bored."
I looked at him, and grinned. I felt like I had in the infirmary with him, and I mimicked his earlier self, commanding,
"Stand up." He looked at me questioningly, but did so. I followed suit, and then I wrapped him in a hug.
It was at this very moment that Harry came bursting, out of breath, into the Tower.
"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?" He had clearly been running for quite awhile, and had his wand pointed straight at Draco's chest.
"Harry, please just put the wand down. I can explain...I think."
Harry looked over the situation again, and realized that when he had bombarded upon us, we had been quickly getting out of an embrace-that Draco hadn't been attacking me.
"What the hell is going on?" This time he spoke in an almost awed whisper, drawing each word out so that it was long and slow.
I looked at Draco, but his face had completely closed off to me and was sneering coldly at Harry. I was on my own with this, apparently.
"Well..." I took a deep breath and took a step closer to Harry. "You see, Harry...Dra-I mean, Malfoy's been...well, you see, he saved my life."
Harry was looking at me suspiciously, but still seemed to prefer to lay all the blame on Draco.
"Yeah, Hermione, I know he saved your life. But that doesn't mean you have to go meeting him in Towers at odd hours of the night. It doesn't mean that you have to spend the whole bloody day with him, and then lie to all of us by saying that you were with McGonnagal! Maybe Ginny, who doesn't know you so well, maybe Ron, who's got a lot of his own problems to deal with, maybe they think that that was a perfectly reasonable excuse. But I, Christ, Hermione, I'm one of your best friends and I notice when too many odd 'coincidences' add up. For the last time, what's going on?"
"Nothing's going on, Harry. We were just talking, alright? Don't worry, its not like he's going to hurt me..." Thankfully, Harry didn't notice the snort Draco let out at the irony of this statement. "He's simply being a...friend, alright? I know that you and Ron both have a lot going on in your lives right now, and I don't want to bother you too much. I know the two of you aren't the best of friends," They both snorted at this one. "but please, can you just let me be friends with the both of you?"
***
I noticed the way his eyes melted at her plea. I concentrated on keeping my face completely emotionless, even though my insides were completely shook up, because now that someone knew we were meeting, things could get much more complicated.
"Listen, Hermione, how about you leave me to talk to Malfoy for awhile, alright?" I saw her look at him skeptically, then look over at me, seemingly trying to gauge how safe of a choice that would be, for Harry's sake.
"Uh, Draco, promise you won't kill him?"
I looked at her, and, even though I knew Harry was watching, I let my mask fall a little and I gave her a half-smile. Then I shrugged and answered truthfully. "Depends on my mood."
***
In shock I watched, as the stony glare left his face and he actually smiled at her. He looked almost human when he did that. He answered her with a "Depends on my mood." I knew I was definitely missing something.
She looked back at him, looking a little bit too stern, and a little bit like McGonnagal, before she broke out in a smile. She had seemed to be searching his face. What for, I was unsure, but with a little uneasiness I realized that she really might have been serious when she asked him to promise not to kill me.
"Alright, Harry, I'll leave the two of you to talk, but I have conditions. First of all, you have to call each other by your first names..." I let a small groan escape my mouth, and Malfoy seemed to snarl. "And just be...civil, alright?"
I looked over at Malfoy, and we finally nodded in agreement.
"Well, shake hands." She seemed a little impatient about this, as if it was a given. Grimacing, we went forth and shook each other's hands. Satisfied, she left, red cloak swishing behind her.
Malfoy, I mean, Draco, looked after her for a moment before looking back at me. He said, in an almost inaudible voice, "Some girl, hum?" Then the closed look was back on his face and I knew this was going to be a difficult conversation.
"So what'dya want to talk about, Pott-I mean, Harry?" He said my name in the same scornful way he said 'Potter'.
"I wanted to talk to you about what your exact intentions were with Hermione, Draco." I said his name in a very amiable fashion, just to get on him. It worked, sort of.
"Alright."
"Well, what are they?"
***
What were my intentions? It was hard enough to tell Granger, let alone Potter.
"Well, you see, Harry," I paused. I thoroughly did not enjoy calling him by his first name. "Granger's going through a real rough time, right? I know you've really been trying to help her, and that's great, but I just don't think you've got a clue what you're doing."
"See, this is what I don't understand. I don't understand your sudden personality change towards her. One day, you're being your usual bastard self, and the next you're reprimanding me for not being a good enough friend! What're you trying to pull? Listen, if you think you can take advantage of her 'cause she's weak, you've really got another thing coming because I bloody will kill you!"
The very idea abhorred me. Take advantage of her? Christ. "Potter, there are things about me that you just will never understand. I..." how the hell did I say this without coming off like a complete idiot? "I swear to you with everything important to me in the world, that I truly hate mudbloods. So yes, I really despise Hermione Granger, too. But there's this part of me, see, that also likes her. I'll always look down on her type, but...well, listen, the point is, I would never take advantage of her. Christ. You really think I'm some lowly bit of scum, don't you?"
"Naturally, Malfoy. You and 'Mione...you aren't, um...a couple, are you?"
A couple? Why was it that the idea wasn't totally repulsive? "Christ! Hell, no, Potter."
"Good. Alright, that's all I wanted to talk to you about. I'm satisfied with your attempts to be human, for the moment, Malfoy, but the second I hear that you've hurt her in any way-no, the second I begin to suspect that you might hurt her-you're going to have a lot more to deal with, understood?"
"Yeah, whatever. Sure. One thing, though. You've got to swear that you'll tell no one else about this-I mean, me and her...being...friends, alright? My dad would kill me if he knew!"
He narrowed his eyes at me. "How do I know that this isn't your way of setting us up?"
I sighed in exasperation. "Just trust me, alright? Shit, I really am asking everyone to trust me these days. The fact is, Potter, you know who and what my father is. Maybe you can imagine what his reaction would be to his son being with in a ten-foot radius of a mudblood?" I watched, with relief, as Harry nodded, a slow, comprehending nod. Then he gave me a half smile and I turned around and left him standing alone in the Astronomy Tower to mull over recent events.
***
I pounded my fist against the stone wall. If only these walls could talk, and I could hear what really went on between the two of them. I still wasn't completely sure that Malfoy wasn't manipulating or using Hermione. The very idea made uneasy. There was something askew, that was for sure, but I couldn't place my finger exactly on what it was.
It actually looked like he cared about her. If things were as they seemed, as they had been portrayed to me, then he just might really be the best thing for her. And she would certainly be the best thing for him. The question was, what lie did I tell Ron?
A/N: Not exactly a cliffie this time...would've been, but I decided to write more, give you a longer chapter. So, when does the romance start? Huh? Maybe in the next chapter...we'll see!