A/N: Draco is left parentless after his father's actions and Draco's impulsiveness. Hermonie is left parentless after a strategic accident. Both are declared head boy and girl. Both are depressed. Both need comfort. Support. Love. (Not your average h+d story where on minute they're fighting and the next they're making out) R+R THANK YOU!!! ^_^
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
6/15/03
Of Tragedies And Romance
Chapter TwoDraco's P.O.V.
"Draco," Goyle's thick voice didn't conceal the foolish aura that he possessed. "Um, Draco – are you in there?" I could just imagine Goyle scratching his head. I chuckled, picturing myself saying "No" and Goyle searching elsewhere for me. I reached for the pillow on the bench and put it over my head in a futile attempt to drown his voice out.
"Draco," Goyle's low voice continued to boom. I groaned, annoyed at the fact that the idiotic boy would not leave me be.
"He's probably not even in there," Crabbe piped up.
"Unless he's raping Granger!" Goyle said, rather excitedly. I had a sudden urge to open the door and sedate the horrid monster that thought of himself as my friend. I threw the pillow on the floor in pure frustration.
"Down boy, DOWN!" I heard someone whisper. I tried hard not to burst out laughing, but I managed a hearty chuckle instead.
"Ignore them," I told Hermione, "They're complete dumba-"
"Yeah," she cut in, "I know," she said, smiling. It was a bit odd - Crabbe and Goyle had just mentioned the idea of me raping Hermione, and yet – ironically – here we were, laughing together (well, she was laughing). It surprised me that she was not showing any trace of detestation, or abomination, for that matter. But then again, I wasn't the one who had suggested something as vile as Goyle's obtuse comment.
~*~*~
The rest of the ride went by uneventfully. Well, unless you count Potter and Weasley coming by to see Hermione no less that fifteen times to be an event, than yes – the train ride was very eventful. She didn't seem very interested in talking to them. If I weren't mistaken, I would have thought that she might have been avoiding them. I was avoiding Crabbe and Goyle too, but at least I had a reason, I mean – Crabbe and Goyle are complete morons, but – then again, Potter and Weasley weren't the sharpest tools in the shed.
I'd ask Hermione why she was avoiding them, but she didn't seen to be in a state fit for talking. Besides, I bet she'd rather tell Snape her deepest, darkest secret before trusting me. And I wasn't proud of that. I was nothing more than a cold-hearted, arrogant bastard (no pun intended) towards her for the past six years. Yet – those few minutes after Crabbe and Goyle had come looking for me (again, no pun intended), we had had a civilized conversation (yes, I think that making fun of Goyle counts as a civilized conversation) I didn't think about it anymore, but slumped back against the bench into an uneasy sleep, as the train seemed to make it it's personal mission to rock violently.
~*~*~
"Draco," a soft voice spoke hurriedly, as I heard someone bustling about in the compartment. Hermione, my brain registered. My eyes fluttered open rather hastily. Hermione was bustling around the compartment, swishing her long robes about.
"Wha–"
"We were supposed to get off of the train five minutes ago!" Shit, I thought, Dumbledore is going to kill us! I could hear the rustling of things as I got up, and I knew she was organizing everything that she had precariously scattered around the compartment during the train ride. She closed her trunk quickly and opened the compartment door, holding it open for me.
"Thank you," I said, stepping out of the compartment with her. We broke into a run until we reached the end of the compartment. Once we got out, I spotted an empty carriage ahead of us. In fact, it was the only carriage on the grounds. We got in, and it started moving. For a moment, I looked at the thestrals. (A/N: There will be an explanation for why Draco can see them later! Be patient!) I shook my head, trying to focus on something else.
"Thank you for waking me up Hermione," I said, "but why didn't you just go on without me?" Did my eyes deceit me, because sitting before me was a slightly pink, speechless Hermione. Had I missed a vital point? She seemed to regain her composure rather quickly, however.
"I couldn't leave you behind, you would've kept on sleeping," she managed, scratching her cat (which I had just noticed was in the carriage) behind the ear in an attempt to avoid the question at hand.
"Again, why did you care?" I asked, but it sounded dull, for there was no emotion in my voice.
"I – I'm not a heartless bitch, you know – you looked tired, and...well – I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss the feast and the sorting and – um...well..."
"Thank you," I said, sparing her of any more embarrassment. I didn't mean to embarrass her, I was just curious as to why she would care about leaving me on the train if, in fact, I was a cold-hearted, arrogant bastard towards her. I guess she was just a good person, and I shouldn't have put her through the hell that I did. Now that Lucius was gone, and Voldermort was too, for that matter, there really was no point of singling out purebloods from muggles, so it didn't really matter.
The only reason I had done so was to convince Lucius that I did not need to go to any of the Death Eater meetings because there was "mudblood abhorrence" (as he called it) running through my blood. It would not look well if I was nice or even neutral towards a muggle, especially since Lucius had spies at Hogwarts.
But that was all over now, I was my own person, and I would not take commands from a man whose only means of expressing himself was through screaming and beating. (Or from a dead man, for that matter) The slight movement coming from Hermione's side of the carriage told me that we had reached the castle. I gathered my things and broke into a run (closely followed by Hermione) up to the castle. We made it in time – everyone had just walked in along with us.
"Here's where I leave you," I told her, nodding my head slightly, and (unfortunately) turning to my posse, which I happened to despise. I slowly began walking towards them, but someone put a hand on my shoulder. Turning around, I realized it was Hermione.
"I think we should go see Dumbledore and apologize for oversleeping. We were supposed to give instructions to the prefects, and he might not think that we're serious about this whole Headboy and Headgirl thing," she added, looking pleadingly at me. Why is she...never mind, I snapped at myself mentally.
"Yeah, okay," I nodded. I didn't have anything better to do, and the less time spent with "the posse", the better, even if it was just a five-minute difference.
"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said quietly, while everyone was still talking. We had taken him aside to the corner of the room, but we hadn't attracted much attention, because there were still some people talking to others from different houses, and hardly anyone was sitting down.
"I'm sorry that we were not at the Heads meeting" Hermione began.
Damn, I thought, who gave the prefects instructions? Now he's going to re-assign out posts for sure!
"I just lost track of the time and Draco overslept," she continued, motioning a hand towards me. I inhaled while the Headmaster looked us over. When he did not say anything, Hermione continued.
"We didn't mean to, it just happened and-"
"I am aware of the circumstances that you both had to go through during the summer, and one day of oversleeping," he looked at me, his eyes twinkling in what appeared to be recognition, as though he knew what had happened over the summer, "and loosing track of time," he looked back at Hermione, "will not be a punishable offense unless you make it a daily habit!"
"No professor," I shook my head before Hermione could say anything, "Thank you professor!"
"Thank you professor," Hermione also said, turning around to go. She stopped dead, catching my eye. My face became rigid. I would not show my emotions through my eyes, it simply would not happen. Being a son of a death eater had taught me a number of useful things and transfer of emotion was one of these things. I would not show my weakness, I would not show my fear, I would not show my anger and I would not show my grief.
Hermione seemed to be searching through my eyes, but I
would not let her know. She seemed to be thinking the same thing that I was: What
had happened over the summer? Surely she had not suffered a terrible loss
like I had...had she? Maybe her cousin or her uncle died. How was I to know? I
was just a Malfoy to her – she would never confide in me. Hermione stopped
searching my eyes, and said:
"Well, I'm glad he didn't punish us."
"Yeah," I stretched the word, absorbed in my thoughts. The tone of my voice was enough evidence for her to realize that I was not really paying attention. I stole a quick glance at her, thinking: What HAD happened to her over the summer? Wait a minute – why do I CARE? Why am I being a heartless bastard again? I SHOULD care what happened to her over the summer. Maybe she needs someone to talk to. I did not have any more time to mull over the question, for a sharp voice caught my ears.
"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger" Professor McGonagall said. I had not noticed that she was right in front of us.
"After the feast you will lead your houses to the common room, with the assistance of your house prefects. The head of your houses will give you and your house prefects the password. You do not really need to know the passwords, but in case someone from your house comes to you and asks you for it – it would be a good idea to know it. After you make sure that all the students are in the common room, you will report back to the head of your house and they will take you to your rooms. If you wish to be with your friends in your common room for a while – that's fine, but first – you must set up your password for the headquarters that you will be sharing. The letters that were sent to you over the summer have already informed you about your headquarters."
I mentally reviewed it in my head: Two bedrooms (one for each of the Heads [*See a/n on the bottom]), one " common room" and one bathroom.
"I would advise you to catch up with your peers tomorrow rather than going through all the trouble of going all the way to your common rooms and then back, because your rooms are in the South Wing." (A/N: I don't know if there even IS a South Wing. The point is it takes a LONG time to get from their headquarters to their House common rooms)
"Professor, will there be an occasion when we MUST go to our common rooms?" I asked. Hermione looked at Professor McGonagall expectantly, as though she had asked the question herself.
"I'm afraid not Mr. Malfoy," she answered, looking a little sad.
She makes it sound like a bad thing that I'm not obliged to go to the common rooms, I thought, though it really is a plus. All I have to do is say that I have official Heads business and I never have to see Pansy or Blaise or anyone else again...unless they got into all of the advanced classes. But, I doubt that.
"MR. MALFOY!" Professor McGonagall shouted, as Hermione nudged me.
"What?" I asked, snapping out of my thoughts.
"I SAID," she spoke in a tone that suggested that I had not been listening to her, "that you can go and ask Professor Snape what the password for the Slytherin common room is so that you know beforehand!" Professor McGonagall look behind me pointedly and I saw Professor Snape striding towards us. I nodded my head towards Professor McGonagall to reassure her that I had heard her, and walked over to Professor Snape.
"Professor -" I began.
"Legacy...the password is legacy," he said, before exiting the room in a hurry. That was odd, I thought, even for HIM. Legacy – that was what the letter "L" stood for on the knife...I stopped, breathing deeply. Get it together Draco! It's just a coincidence.
~*~*~
The sorting went by quicker than usual. Mainly because of the fact that it was the smallest group of kids for the sorting I had ever seen, but all the same. Pansy was unusually quiet, and seemed to have a sad look in her eyes whenever I glanced at her. I had snapped at her last year and told her to shut up, but I had not known that she would take it so literally that she would shut up during the entire feast, let alone eternally – although, ultimately, that wasn't such a bad idea. (And besides, I hadn't told her to not say a word from the time that I had told her off until the sorting. I wonder if she was dumb enough to not say a word all summer long) Why wasn't she pestering me like she always did?
The arranged marriage, I thought, no wonder she's afraid of saying anything! She's afraid she'll aggravate me! (Because I had never actually told her that she was a nuisance until last year) She still thinks that it's on! But then again, she doesn't know that Lucius is dead.
Father (if I must) had set up an arranged marriage for Pansy and I a week after graduation. The only reason she wanted it was because of the Malfoy fortune that was always passed on to the heir – in this case, me – but now that Lucius was dead, I would not put up with pretending to like her. I would tell her that the marriage was off. I would tell her that he had found another, more suitable women for me. Whatever I would tell her – it didn't matter – the point was to make sure she understood to stop chasing after me. I actually felt a little bad for her – now she would go home as a disgrace – a women who was not "good enough" (so to speak) for a Malfoy. I even had a feeling that her parents might disown her. I had met them before – her mother didn't even seem to LIKE her daughter – let alone love her – and her father – god – I had never seen a man who was so heinous – well – besides Lucius. I bet he would sell off his daughter within a second if he were offered something profitable. But, I had other things to worry about – and Pansy was NOT on the list.
"I know!" Blaise's voice cut into my thoughts. One of the girls beside him (A/N: Is Blaise a boy...well – if she isn't – she is now...okay?) shrieked with laughter.
"They actually wrote that in the Daily Prophet?" Crabbe asked. "Poor Anthony," he said. Everyone eyed each other and within a second they were all cracking up.
I shook my head, annoyed at everyone who came within my range of vision.
Wait a minute, I thought, wouldn't' there be something written about Lucius and...I gulped...Lucius and mum's death in the Daily Prophet?
True, I had not bothered to read it, but wouldn't ANY of the Slytherins have read it?
This is the Slytherins you're talking about Draco – SLYTHERINS! People who torment for a living! I thought. Am I really like that? Am I just a stereotypical Slytherin? Just a blur of green and silver trepidation?
"Draco," Pansy's voice dragged me back to reality, "could I talk to you for a second...outside," she said, looking pointedly over my shoulder, to the nearest exit.
This was the perfect opportunity to tell her that the marriage was off. I nodded briefly, and followed her out of the door. She took my hand and led me out the door before I could protest. In any other case, there would have been catcalls and jeering from our table, but they seemed to have gotten the message (finally, after six years) that Draco Malfoy was not someone who you wanted to insult. Once we were outside the great hall, Pansy let out a sniff, as though she was about to cry.
"Oh Draco!" Pansy suddenly collapsed her head on my shoulder, expecting me to comfort her.
What the fuck is going on!? I thought.
"I know," Pansy said, lifting her head up from my shoulder and revealing her tear-stained cheeks, "my parents told me about it!" she pulled out what appeared to be a clipping from the Daily Prophet.
"My parents told me!" she repeated again.
"I'm so sorry that they -" and she started crying, just as the words "Malfoy's Melee" flashed before my eyes, my brain registering everything. Pansy's parents had told her that mum and "dad" had died.
"Pansy –" I began, but she placed a finger on my lips to silence me. She had stopped crying, but her eyes were brimming with tears.
"Shh...it's okay. You can talk to me when you're ready," she said. Again, I began to speak, but she shook her head, placing a hand on my cheek while she used the other one to wipe her eyes. With a quick movement of her hand, she kissed me and went back to the great hall. I folded the Daily Prophet clipping and pocketed it. I quickly followed, and bumped into none other than the infamous Weasley. What in god's name he was doing at the Slytherin table – I could only imagine.
"Watch it, Malfoy!" He said "Malfoy" as though it was a curse. On some level – it WAS – there was no argument about that. I wasn't going to pick a fight – all I was going to do was what I had intended to do after I went back into the great hall – to find Pansy. But Weasley's next words caught me off guard.
"Did you have a good shag with your slut?" He looked as though he was expecting me to be offended. I didn't care about Pansy – I just pitied her. Obviously Weasley confused pity with care all the time...but I wouldn't go into that – I was in NO mood for a roaring Weasley temper.
"Just...fuck off – okay?" I said casually, as though it didn't matter to me, which – it didn't. Weasley clenched his fisted as always, his nostrils flaring.
"Ron – don't!" I heard someone say. Hermione's figure protruded from the shadows.
What the hell are these Gryffindors doing at the Slytherin's table? I thought, confused at the sight of them.
"Why SHOULDN'T I? He DESERVES it!" Weasley said angrily.
"I didn't do anything-" I began.
"Yet!" He concluded for me.
"Look – just FUCK OFF!" I said a little more loudly than I had intended, though I had not aroused any attention. It seemed that everyone was either deaf, or did not dare look in my direction.
"Tut, tut Malfoy!" he said, waggling his index finger in my direction, "Your MOTHER," he emphasized, "wouldn't want you to use that kind of language, now would she? Not after what happened this summer," he whispered the last part so quietly that I could barley hear it. I looked up at his vivid smile. That bastard! He knew! I'll kill him! I thought, quickly pushing him to the ground, I'll fucking kill him! He grabbed my collar and it ripped, leaving him with a handful of white cotton.
"I'll kill you!" I screamed angrily, but someone grabbed my back. Why the hell isn't anyone noticing any of this? I thought angrily as I looked up at the rest of the tables. Everyone was enjoying their meal, oblivious to the fact that I was about to commit a murder. Another murder, I corrected myself. Again, I scolded myself. You don't know about that...just forget that THAT ever happened!
"DON'T!" the same voice that spoke before said. Hermione, I recognized her soft yet strong voice, why is she interfering?
"You'll get in trouble and they'll take away your Headboy privileges!"
Why in god's name is had she broken up the fight? Okay – so Weasley was her friend and she didn't want him to get in trouble – that I understand. But if she let ME attack him A – I'd get just the TIP of what would be my ultimate revenge and B – he's have an eye-witness that I was the one who started the fight – NOT him.
My thoughts seemed too much to take. I was feeling very light-headed, like I would collapse any second. Angry and confused at the same time, I stormed out of the great hall.
Shit, I thought, I don't even know where my new room is – where am I going to go?
Hermione's P.O.V.
"Why do you have to be such a colossal jerk, Ron?" I asked angrily.
"A what?" he asked. I sighed heavily, and started to go out of the great hall, in an attempt to find Draco, who had stormed out of it just moments ago.
"Hermione, don't tell me you actually think that he DIDN'T deserve it!" Ron snorted in disbelief.
"He didn't do anything to you Ron! He just bumped into you! You were TRYING to pick a fight. Why – god only knows...you are so..." but I didn't finish – I had to find Draco.
"Hermione, don't go!" Ron called, but I was already gone.
I ran quickly down the corridor, hoping that Draco had not gone too far.
"Draco? Draco where are you?" I called out.
If I were Draco, where would I be? I thought. Seeing as how that wasn't going to help, I continued to search the corridors.
"Draco!" I shouted again, "Draco – where are you?"
"Hermione!" A hoarse voice called out, "Hermione, please come back!"
That's Ron, I thought, he just doesn't give up...does he?
Ignoring Ron's persistent shouts, I continued searching.
Maybe he's in the Slytherin common room, I thought, he knows the password because he asked Snape...
Without thinking it over, I headed towards the dungeons. Ron had told me where the Slytherin common room was during our second year. (A/N: I don't know...I needed an excuse for her to know where the common room is...) At the time, I had laughed at him, telling him that he shouldn't bother telling me, because I would never need to know it. Now, however, I was grateful for Ron's determination and stubbornness, for he had gone into a detailed account about exactly where the Slytherin common room was. Fifteen minutes later, I had arrived there, but I couldn't help looking over my shoulder. The dungeons were cold and eerie. I wondered how the Slytherins could deal with the feeling that someone was always watching you, even in your "home".
Maybe that's why they're so unpleasant, I thought. Then, remembering why I was here, I added as an afterthought, well, most of them, anyway...
I pounded on the stone wall that concealed the Slytherin common room. (A/N: Again, I don't know the entrance to the Slytherin common room, but...it's a FIC for god sake's, not the actual book...so don't get to critical over minor details)
"Draco! Draco...let me in! Please! I just want to -" but I stopped, listening closely. There was a shuffling noise on the other end of the door. I inhaled sharply. What if someone else was in the common room? What would I do then? They would probably ask why I was looking for Draco, and I would be mortified! Well, I would take my chances.
"Wha– what do you want?" Draco said. He knew it was me, for he had not even bothered asking who it was.
"I wanted to– to talk to you." I said it as a question. I was suddenly unsure of whether or not I should have been doing this. Wouldn't Draco just throw it back in my face? After all...he WAS a Malfoy…HERMIONE! A voice in my head said, that is extremely PREDJUDICE to assume that he is a bad person, even if he IS a Malfoy. Why don't you give him a chance? He WAS acting differently when we were alone. Maybe he's just misunderstood...maybe...(A/N: I know, I know, just bear in mind that in this fic Hermione is VERY open-minded)
"Why would you want to talk to me? Wouldn't you rather go back to Potter and Weasel and leave me here to dwell in my own misery? Why do you care? WHY?"
See, the voice inside my head said, I was RIGHT! He did throw it back in your face.
Will you just SHUT UP!? I snapped at myself inwardly.
"I – I don't know," I said, "I just do." I could hear his scoff echoing off of the stone walls.
"Well – could you just leave?" He asked. There was no tone in his voice, so his request did not sound rude, but monotonous.
"But I want to help!" I said, moving closer to the wall. There was a few seconds of silence, in which he was thinking.
"You can't help me – I'm too fucked up," he said, after much consideration of wording.
"Trust me – no one is more fucked up than me," I reassured him.
"Yeah...right..." he scoffed, "Hermione Granger: The smartest student Hogwarts has ever had, prefect AND Headgirl – you must be one hell of a fucked up girl – what's wrong with you?" he asked sarcastically.
"Hmm...I don't know..." I said, playing along.
He chuckled, and then said seriously "But why were you acting different on the train when we were alone?"
"I don't know..." I said slowly, "you weren't bugging me so I guess there was no reason to be cruel towards you. Why were YOU acting different?"
"The same I guess," he said.
"So – can I ask you something?"
You just did, the annoying voice inside me head said. Shut up! I thought. (A/N: In case you
haven't noticed, Hermione can hear voices...)
"What?" Draco said slowly, as though he wasn't sure he was going to like what I was about to ask.
"What was that whole thing back there in the Great Hall?" I asked tentatively.
"I can't really explain...you wouldn't understand anyway...in fact -" but he stopped in mid-sentence.
"Draco?" I asked to make sure that he was still there.
"Hermione, I -"
"Yes?"
"I don't want to involve you. Trust me – you wouldn't want to know," he said.
"Try me," I said quietly.
"Hermione – I can't...do you know what happened over," he gulped, "over the – the summer?"
I flinched, taking a step backwards.
"W-what happened?" I managed to say, trying not to think about what had happened to ME over the summer.
"You haven't been reading The Daily Prophet, have you?" he asked suddenly.
"No, why?" I asked.
"No reason," he said quickly...a little too quickly.
"So whatever happened to you over the summer is in The Daily Prophet?" I asked.
"Y-yeah," he sighed, "But its an old edition – I think," he said.
"What did Ron say to you?" I asked abruptly.
"Nothing," Draco said harshly, but I knew Ron had said something. All I had heard was the word "summer" and I had exploded on Ron. I was only halfway out of line, because Ron HAD provoked Draco, and Draco wasn't even going to start a fight - at least I didn't THINK Draco was going to start a fight.
"Hermione, you better get going before someone comes down the dungeons – you wouldn't want to look suspicious, would you?"
"I don't care," I said casually. There was an awkward silence, in which I counted the stones across the wall.
"Well – I guess I better be going," I said.
"Wait," he called out, "What happened to YOU over the summer?"
"I'd rather not talk about it," I said coldly. I realized a second later that the speck of water that hit the floor was not from a leak in the roof, but from me.
"Hermione – I can tell that something is wrong. And you're not talking to Potter and Weasley – so the least you can do is vent it all out, even if it is via me," he finished.
"What's the catch?" I asked, wiping my eyes.
"There is no catch," he said.
"Why are you bothering anyway? I'm just a petty mudblood – aren't I?" I asked.
"No – you're not," he said rather forcedly.
"That was a rhetorical question," I said.
"So?" he said.
"So I'm NOT a petty mudblood...this is news..." I said, ignoring his previous question, all the while reaching out and touching one of the stones.
"Look – all that stuff I said in the past – about you being a...you know-"
"Mudblood?" I intervened, pressing my hand against a particularly large stone on the wall and leaning forward in an awkward position.
"Ye- yes. That was wrong – I don't think of you like that and I never have – it's just that...well-" but he stopped and a moment later the stone that I had pressed my hand materialized into Draco. I quickly took my hand off of Draco's chest, blushing slightly - as I HAD felt his muscles. He seemed to be embarrassed as well – opening his mouth and then closing it quickly several times. I looked up to his eyes and froze in surprise. His eyes were all red, as though he had been crying – but he hadn't been...had he?
"You – your eyes are all...red," I said, playing dumb, "what happened?"
"Nothing," he said, rubbing his right eye, but his tone of voice made me certain that he knew that I knew.
"You dropped something," I said, pointing to something near my right foot. As I picked it up, I recognized it as a newspaper clipping and I heard an obvious gasp. As the headline "Malfoy's Melee" darted across my eyes, I knew something was wrong. Draco snatched at the clipping out of my hands hastily and put it back inside his robes with extreme caution.
"What was that?" I asked quietly, in an attempt to keep him calm. His eyes, which were TRYING to conceal a mixture of fear, anger and grief, gleamed with panic. He shook his head vigorously, his jaw stiffening with every passing moment.
"That's the article – isn't it? The article about...what happened to you over the summer," I lowered my voice with the last few words.
"I think you should leave," he said, and I could tell he was purposely darting his eyes around, in a desperate attempt to distract himself from my stare.
"Like you said before, it's best if-" I began.
"It's best if you leave me – Hermione – NOW!" he said harshly. He looked up, mildly shocked.
"I'm sorry – I didn't mean – I just..." he shook his head, and whispering something very quietly, which I thought was the password, no doubt, he walked back into the stonewall.
"Draco," I ran after him, but the stonewall became solid again. I pounded on the stones, shouting, "Draco let me in! You NEED to talk to someone, just like I do – I can tell! Please Draco!" I continued to pound on the door. I stopped a moment later, but I didn't hear his voice. Instead I heard a sort of whimpering coming from inside the wall. Was Draco crying? He was the only one inside the common room...or at least I THOUGHT so.
"Legacy," he whispered.
"Legacy?" I repeated, confused, but the stonewall dissolved in front of me and I entered the common room. The whimpering grew louder as I stepped closer to the green couch in the middle of the room.
"Draco?" I said timidly. I looked over the couch and saw Draco curled in a ball, shaking uncontrollably.
"DRACO!" I called out, jumping over the couch and shaking him.
"Her- Herm- Hermione," he stuttered in between sobs, "ple-pleas-please d-d-don't!"
"Draco – what's wrong? What happened? You can tell me – I know you need to talk to someone and I promise I won't say anything to anyone!"
"He-here! R-r-read this," he said, taking out something from his robes. I recognized it as the article from the Daily Prophet. I took the article from his pale fingers and read to myself:
Malfoy's Melee
Yesterday the ministry received a disturbing floo call **(a/n: Instead of phone call because I don't know what wizards do in case of emergencies, so a floo call is like a 911 call) from the Malfoy Manor. Lucius Malfoy, 41 **(a/n: I don't know if that is his age exactly) claimed that there was an intruder breaking into his house. Without another word, he hung up. Several floo moderators, after reporting the floo call to the High Flooer **(a/n: think high inquisitor...someone who would be a chief police who would take over investigations and so on.) reported that Lucius's voice did not sound frightful, as one would expect, but monotonous, and even, as Devon Wellington, Unspeakable #35 of sector 2MLH-B9 **(a/n: that's how I'm going to classify them) had suggested, if he had been forced to say so. Others argue that this is of course just a way for Malfoy to reinstate his suave demeanor that so many of us are used to. Either way, when investigators later arrived, they found both Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy dead. Their son, Draco, who is attending his final year at Hogwarts, claimed to be at Mr. Nicholas Borgin's shop **(a/n: In the book, it says how Mr. Borgin's shop is full of Dark Art things, which would technically be illegal, but I'm making it legal for now ^_^ again – this is not the book, I need to alter some things, so please be lenient) at the occurrence of the murder. Borgins seemed a bit nervous about presenting young Malfoy with an alibi, but he did do so, though Wellington does claim that Malfoy might have threatened and/or bribed Barkins. For a full analysis on Wellington's theory of as well as discounts on his new book on physiological backfire entitled "Dangerous Minds," turn to page 2. For a statement Cornelius Fudge made today about the Malfoy Murder Mystery, turn to page 4.
I stood there, shocked, not knowing what to do. Here I was, trying to forget about my own parents' death, and now I was forced to remember it. But then again, Draco's parents were murdered and my parents' death was an accident.
"Oh Draco," I said closely, pulling him off of the floor and onto the couch.
"It's just so...hard," he said, once he had stopped crying.
"I know...I know," I said, my eyes beginning to water.
"You know? You KNOW? How would YOU know?!" he snarled nastily. I glared at him angrily, and then slapped him.
"Go to hell!" I yelled, shoving him off of the couch as I ran out of the Slytherin Common Room, crying.
A/N: **Sorry about the numerous a/n's during the article...Okay...first of all, let me clear up one thing. The joke "Down boy, down" was aimed at Goyle because he was rather excited (or more plainly – horny) at the fact that Draco might have been raping Hermione. Do I need to go into any further explanations about…*COUGH* DIURNAL EMMISIONS *COUGH*? I think not…I am sorry that I didn't make it clearer, but Hermione DID kiss her cousin. She did it because she needed comforting over her dead parents and he was her only "resource" available. He did it because he got caught up in the moment. (If you want to argue that he is a sick pervert that fine, it doesn't matter, the only important issue is the reason WHY Hermione kissed him. To see further explanations – reread that scene in chapter one – it explains why she kissed him). Instead of saying Headboy and Headgirl – I say the Heads or just Heads. Is that okay? Whatever... And by the way, if some of you like my writing style or just my story in general – you should check out my other story "Confused" by Blood57. Thank you for those who reviewed and for those who didn't, go review NOW!!!!
** DON'T FORGET TO CHECK OUT "CONFUSED" BY BLOOD57!!! **
*^~^*BLOOD57*^~^*