Draco stood as soon as he saw her exit the room. "Ready?" he asked,
holding his arm out. Fighting back the sobs, Hermione nodded and ignored
his gesture, walking through the halls at a rapid rate. "What happened?"
Draco asked, catching up to her.
"Nothing," she muttered, wiping soft tears from her eyes. "I just hate leaving them."
"I see," Draco said and it was suddenly clear to Hermione that he didn't see at all. He had never been torn away from his best friends and people he had come to think of as family. He had never been ripped away from the only strands of sanity he had. No, he didn't see at all, but instead of arguing with him, she just wanted to get back to the Manor and sleep for a few hours to get rid of the homely feelings that were stirring within her.
The two of them were silent all the way back in the tunnel. When they reached the portrait, Draco reached out to swing it aside. "Wait!" Hermione cried, stretching her arms out to stop him. "How are we going to get your great aunt away from the portrait for us to get back through?"
Draco halted. "I hadn't thought of that," he confessed. Turning to face her, he looked completely perplexed. "I guess we'll have to wait until she leaves again."
Hermione gave him a scathing glance. "I don't think so," she said, swinging the portrait aside. Draco tried to stop her, but she shoved him away, entering the main foyer, covered in dirt from the long trek back to the Manor. She began dusting herself off as Draco slid the portrait back into place, careful not to wake his dozing great aunt.
"See? That wasn't hard," Hermione said, finishing dusting herself off. She turned and headed into the kitchen, only to find Lucius hovering in front of her like a bad dream.
"Where have you been?" he snarled at her. "I went upstairs to get Draco to arrange some more wedding plans and he wasn't in his room. He wasn't downstairs, he wasn't in the garden and he wasn't in your room." A bitter smile crossed his face. "And neither were you."
"Wow, you're intelligent," Hermione quipped, feeling an immediate fury enter her bloodstream. She watched as his face twitched in anger and waited for the explosion.
"How dare you," he began through gritted teeth. "Don't you ever speak to me like that again in my home. After all I've done for you, taken you in and given you a roof over your head, food in your stomach and a bed to sleep in. And this is how you treat me?"
"I was perfectly fine where I was," Hermione replied, busying herself with her nails, trying to clean them of the dirt and grime from the tunnel. She was vaguely aware that Draco had come up behind her but so far, he hadn't made so much as a move to defend either Hermione or his father.
"So where were you?" Lucius continued menacingly. "If I've told you once, I've told you a million times, I will have no sneaking around in my house!"
"It's my fault, Dad," piped up Draco, causing both Lucius and Hermione to glare sharply at him. "A friend of mine from school is in St. Mungo's and I dragged Hermione with me to see him."
"He's lying!" she exploded, pointing her finger at him. Draco looked shocked, but Hermione felt many weeks' rage, fury and hatred fill her frail body and she searched desperately for things to throw. Grabbing the nearest vase, filled with flowers, she heaved it to the ground where it smashed into little bits of pieces. Water and flowers were strewn across the floor, but Hermione didn't stop there. "He's lying!" she repeated, grabbing Great Aunt Rose's portrait and swinging it on the wall. She awoke with a screeching start.
"I will not tolerate this!" Lucius roared, but he was no match for Hermione. The pain she had felt from her parents' betrayal, first not telling her that she was a pureblood, then agreeing to marry her off to such a horrible family, and the anger she felt from having to leave Harry and Ron, especially Ron when she loved him so dearly. And the confusion she felt for Draco wasn't helping. When she looked at him, she no longer saw the boy she once despised; instead there was a guy who was kind, caring and considerate and who just might make a good husband with a bit of training. She continued to swing the portrait, grabbing several figurines and slamming them to the marble floor.
"I hate you!" she screamed at Lucius, heaving a statue of Venus at his face. He ducked just in time. "I hate you and what you've done to me! I went to see Ron Weasley and Harry Potter!" she confessed, enjoying the angered, shocked look that was slowly appearing on Lucius' face. "Yes, I went to see my dreaded friends-and I do have friends, Lucius-and there's nothing you could have done to stop me. It wasn't Draco's idea, nor was it his friend that was injured. It was mine and I snuck out of your very own house, right out from under your nose, and managed to go visit the horrible Potter and disgrace Weasley." She collapsed to the cool, marble floor, feeling more exhausted than she had in months. "And there's nothing you can do about it," she muttered sleepily to herself as she lay down.
The scene in front of her was fading. The broken shards of glass had begun to fade in and out. The Venus state with her missing head and broken leg was coming in and out of focus. Hermione hazily heard Lucius say, "Draco, get her out of here. I don't want to look at her right now." Was it just Hermione's drowsy mind or did she detect a hint of fear in Lucius' voice?
A pair of strong arms lifted her up from the floor and she groaned at the prospect of leaving the cool surface. The figure carried her up the stairs and to her room where it laid her on the bed and slowly brushed her wild hair out of her eyes.
"I know you didn't mean to do all that," Draco's voice said, floating in from somewhere above her, "but Father will be angry when you come back downstairs. Maybe you should stay up here a while."
"Right," Hermione muttered, or at least she thought she did. There was no reply as her door clicked shut. Sinking into the cool sheets, Hermione drifted off into a deep sleep.
When she awoke, moonlight was streaming through her window. Standing up slowly, she tried to ignore the pounding that was pulsating in her brain. Looking out on the grounds, she noticed a dark figure sitting on the bench. Fighting the urge to yell out the window, she tiptoed down the staircase, worried that Lucius might be waiting up for her. When she failed to see him anywhere, she sneaked out the back door and into the garden.
Owls hooted in the distance and the sweet scent of the surrounding flowers gave off a soothing impression. "Hey," she said as she sat beside Draco on the bench. "What are you doing out so late?"
"It's not that late," he said, looking up at the sky. "It's only about a quarter after twelve."
"Did I really sleep that long?" Hermione asked, more to herself than anyone.
Draco nodded. "You needed it, though. You've been exhausted these past few days and a bit of sleep won't hurt you. Just make sure you stay up all day tomorrow because if you sleep during the day, you definitely won't be tired at night." He smiled weakly at her.
"Was that you that carried me upstairs?" she asked timidly.
"Does you head hurt?" he asked back.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, if it had been Father that carried you up, he would have bounced you on your head." He looked contemplative. "He was furious when I got back downstairs."
"I'm sorry." Hermione lowered her head. "I didn't want to create any trouble for you."
"You didn't," he replied in the same cool tone. "It was kind of funny, actually. He started yelling and complaining about you and Mother finally had enough of it. 'Who's idea was this marriage, Lucius?' she asked him. Father shut right up." Draco let out a hollow, forceful laugh. "He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Mother never stands up to him. I see you've made a change in all of us."
Hermione laughed quietly to herself. "Thanks for going with me to the hospital," she finally admitted. "I didn't really want to go by myself."
"Anytime," he replied. "Not that I think it's too good you go gallivanting around with the two of them but you are good friends," he said thoughtfully. "Just don't let Father see you, ever."
"Oh, I won't," Hermione assured him, wondering why Draco had taken on such a considerate act. Deciding not to push her luck, she stood up and began making her way back to the Manor. "I better go back to bed," she told him, smiling faintly in the moonlight. "I'm a little tired, still, and I want to be fully awake in the morning."
"Goodnight," Draco told her, avoiding her gaze. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She walked away from him, thinking how odd it was that it was tomorrow already. She entered the Manor, eager to steer clear of any signs of Lucius or Narcissa. In her room, she collapsed on her bed again, only to fall into a restless sleep filled with more dreams than before.
"Nothing," she muttered, wiping soft tears from her eyes. "I just hate leaving them."
"I see," Draco said and it was suddenly clear to Hermione that he didn't see at all. He had never been torn away from his best friends and people he had come to think of as family. He had never been ripped away from the only strands of sanity he had. No, he didn't see at all, but instead of arguing with him, she just wanted to get back to the Manor and sleep for a few hours to get rid of the homely feelings that were stirring within her.
The two of them were silent all the way back in the tunnel. When they reached the portrait, Draco reached out to swing it aside. "Wait!" Hermione cried, stretching her arms out to stop him. "How are we going to get your great aunt away from the portrait for us to get back through?"
Draco halted. "I hadn't thought of that," he confessed. Turning to face her, he looked completely perplexed. "I guess we'll have to wait until she leaves again."
Hermione gave him a scathing glance. "I don't think so," she said, swinging the portrait aside. Draco tried to stop her, but she shoved him away, entering the main foyer, covered in dirt from the long trek back to the Manor. She began dusting herself off as Draco slid the portrait back into place, careful not to wake his dozing great aunt.
"See? That wasn't hard," Hermione said, finishing dusting herself off. She turned and headed into the kitchen, only to find Lucius hovering in front of her like a bad dream.
"Where have you been?" he snarled at her. "I went upstairs to get Draco to arrange some more wedding plans and he wasn't in his room. He wasn't downstairs, he wasn't in the garden and he wasn't in your room." A bitter smile crossed his face. "And neither were you."
"Wow, you're intelligent," Hermione quipped, feeling an immediate fury enter her bloodstream. She watched as his face twitched in anger and waited for the explosion.
"How dare you," he began through gritted teeth. "Don't you ever speak to me like that again in my home. After all I've done for you, taken you in and given you a roof over your head, food in your stomach and a bed to sleep in. And this is how you treat me?"
"I was perfectly fine where I was," Hermione replied, busying herself with her nails, trying to clean them of the dirt and grime from the tunnel. She was vaguely aware that Draco had come up behind her but so far, he hadn't made so much as a move to defend either Hermione or his father.
"So where were you?" Lucius continued menacingly. "If I've told you once, I've told you a million times, I will have no sneaking around in my house!"
"It's my fault, Dad," piped up Draco, causing both Lucius and Hermione to glare sharply at him. "A friend of mine from school is in St. Mungo's and I dragged Hermione with me to see him."
"He's lying!" she exploded, pointing her finger at him. Draco looked shocked, but Hermione felt many weeks' rage, fury and hatred fill her frail body and she searched desperately for things to throw. Grabbing the nearest vase, filled with flowers, she heaved it to the ground where it smashed into little bits of pieces. Water and flowers were strewn across the floor, but Hermione didn't stop there. "He's lying!" she repeated, grabbing Great Aunt Rose's portrait and swinging it on the wall. She awoke with a screeching start.
"I will not tolerate this!" Lucius roared, but he was no match for Hermione. The pain she had felt from her parents' betrayal, first not telling her that she was a pureblood, then agreeing to marry her off to such a horrible family, and the anger she felt from having to leave Harry and Ron, especially Ron when she loved him so dearly. And the confusion she felt for Draco wasn't helping. When she looked at him, she no longer saw the boy she once despised; instead there was a guy who was kind, caring and considerate and who just might make a good husband with a bit of training. She continued to swing the portrait, grabbing several figurines and slamming them to the marble floor.
"I hate you!" she screamed at Lucius, heaving a statue of Venus at his face. He ducked just in time. "I hate you and what you've done to me! I went to see Ron Weasley and Harry Potter!" she confessed, enjoying the angered, shocked look that was slowly appearing on Lucius' face. "Yes, I went to see my dreaded friends-and I do have friends, Lucius-and there's nothing you could have done to stop me. It wasn't Draco's idea, nor was it his friend that was injured. It was mine and I snuck out of your very own house, right out from under your nose, and managed to go visit the horrible Potter and disgrace Weasley." She collapsed to the cool, marble floor, feeling more exhausted than she had in months. "And there's nothing you can do about it," she muttered sleepily to herself as she lay down.
The scene in front of her was fading. The broken shards of glass had begun to fade in and out. The Venus state with her missing head and broken leg was coming in and out of focus. Hermione hazily heard Lucius say, "Draco, get her out of here. I don't want to look at her right now." Was it just Hermione's drowsy mind or did she detect a hint of fear in Lucius' voice?
A pair of strong arms lifted her up from the floor and she groaned at the prospect of leaving the cool surface. The figure carried her up the stairs and to her room where it laid her on the bed and slowly brushed her wild hair out of her eyes.
"I know you didn't mean to do all that," Draco's voice said, floating in from somewhere above her, "but Father will be angry when you come back downstairs. Maybe you should stay up here a while."
"Right," Hermione muttered, or at least she thought she did. There was no reply as her door clicked shut. Sinking into the cool sheets, Hermione drifted off into a deep sleep.
When she awoke, moonlight was streaming through her window. Standing up slowly, she tried to ignore the pounding that was pulsating in her brain. Looking out on the grounds, she noticed a dark figure sitting on the bench. Fighting the urge to yell out the window, she tiptoed down the staircase, worried that Lucius might be waiting up for her. When she failed to see him anywhere, she sneaked out the back door and into the garden.
Owls hooted in the distance and the sweet scent of the surrounding flowers gave off a soothing impression. "Hey," she said as she sat beside Draco on the bench. "What are you doing out so late?"
"It's not that late," he said, looking up at the sky. "It's only about a quarter after twelve."
"Did I really sleep that long?" Hermione asked, more to herself than anyone.
Draco nodded. "You needed it, though. You've been exhausted these past few days and a bit of sleep won't hurt you. Just make sure you stay up all day tomorrow because if you sleep during the day, you definitely won't be tired at night." He smiled weakly at her.
"Was that you that carried me upstairs?" she asked timidly.
"Does you head hurt?" he asked back.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, if it had been Father that carried you up, he would have bounced you on your head." He looked contemplative. "He was furious when I got back downstairs."
"I'm sorry." Hermione lowered her head. "I didn't want to create any trouble for you."
"You didn't," he replied in the same cool tone. "It was kind of funny, actually. He started yelling and complaining about you and Mother finally had enough of it. 'Who's idea was this marriage, Lucius?' she asked him. Father shut right up." Draco let out a hollow, forceful laugh. "He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Mother never stands up to him. I see you've made a change in all of us."
Hermione laughed quietly to herself. "Thanks for going with me to the hospital," she finally admitted. "I didn't really want to go by myself."
"Anytime," he replied. "Not that I think it's too good you go gallivanting around with the two of them but you are good friends," he said thoughtfully. "Just don't let Father see you, ever."
"Oh, I won't," Hermione assured him, wondering why Draco had taken on such a considerate act. Deciding not to push her luck, she stood up and began making her way back to the Manor. "I better go back to bed," she told him, smiling faintly in the moonlight. "I'm a little tired, still, and I want to be fully awake in the morning."
"Goodnight," Draco told her, avoiding her gaze. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She walked away from him, thinking how odd it was that it was tomorrow already. She entered the Manor, eager to steer clear of any signs of Lucius or Narcissa. In her room, she collapsed on her bed again, only to fall into a restless sleep filled with more dreams than before.
