- Disclaimer: Harry Potter is most definitely not mine. Please don't sue.
- A/N: Hardest chapter to write. Ever. Of the entire fic. Probably the hardest to read as well. I apologize ahead of time. Am expecting flames. Will cringe and deal with them as necessary.
Thanks to Jennifer for an excellent Beta job once again.
Thanks to Kawaiitsuki, FEAngel258, Rose Aquafire (Glad I can keep you on your toes), Kou Shun'u (I'm glad you like the Ron/Avery and I hope that the next few chapters soothe your curiosity J ), Blanche Dubois, RussianSoul, Hotdevelettefire, and JT for your sweet, encouraging reviews.
Thanks for reading!
"It is easy to go down into Hell; night and day, the gates of dark Death stand wide; but to climb back again, to retrace one's steps to the upper air - there's the rub, the task. "
- Virgil (70 BC - 19 BC), Aeneid
***
She sighed.
This could most definitely not continue. And as much as she rationalized it, she couldn't convince her heart.
To hell with that. She couldn't do this. She had to end it.
The walk to the classroom that night was the longest one yet. He was already there, waiting for her.
"Draco."
He nodded, as if confirming her suspicions on his name. He stood up to meet her.
"I need to talk to you."
He cursed under his breath, as if he knew what was coming.
"Damn it, Hermione. I thought we established this in the beginning. You said it wouldn't be a problem. You said that it didn't matter."
He did.
"Draco..." She cursed under her breath before she continued, on the verge of tears. "I love you. I can't love you. This was never supposed to be about love."
"Then what was it supposed to be about?"
She paused, caught off guard by his question. Finally, she shrugged. "I don't know. Learning about the Dark Arts, having exciting snogs here and there..." She blushed, staring at the ground.
Draco frowned. "Hermione."
She looked up. "What?"
"Why?"
This also caught her off guard. 'Damn it, Granger, you've got to be on your toes.' "Why do I want to end it?"
He stared at her, waiting. That was one of the things she loved about him. He refused to answer questions that had no purpose in being asked.
She sighed. "It's...complicated. I feel like... Like I'm two people. I feel like I'm lying to Harry. And... and I sometimes feel like I'm lying to you. This," and here she gestured wildly and ambiguously, "isn't me. As much as I'd like to think it is, no matter how hard I try, it's not. I'm still a goody-goody Gryffindor. And I can't keep lying to you by trying to be... this..."
She definitely felt some tears down there. They had crept into her last words. She knew he'd heard them, too. He didn't miss a beat, that man.
Since when had he become a man?
"Hermione."
She looked at him, waiting for him to tell her to leave, that she was never what he'd hoped she would be. That she was the damned Mudblood Granger that he'd always suspected she was, deep down.
"Do us both a favor and shut up."
Her mouth dropped open. Unsure of whether to leave or stay, she shuffled her feet and glanced at the door.
"You are," he paused and gestured around the room, "this. You have always been this. You are also, however, loyal. You're loyal not only to those who you should be loyal to, you're loyal to anyone who has ever shaken your fucking hand. That is your biggest weakness."
"Harry is who I should be loyal to. And I'm stabbing him in the back. Every time I come here, it's another wound I inflict on him," she paused, shaking her head and continued in a low voice, "...last week I almost asked him if I could borrow his cloak. Remember? Draco, I was going to borrow his cloak so that I could get better at the magic that killed his parents - at the magic he has spent his entire life fighting and running away from."
Draco paused, regarding her pensively. "Why do you come here, then? Why do you do it? Why do you love it so much if it's wrong?"
Hermione's tears were now threatening her eyes. Soon they would assail her cheeks. She didn't trust herself with anything more than a whisper. "Because sometimes what we love is what will destroy us. Love is not loyal. Love will break your heart and destroy you without a second glance. Love is not sacrifice. Love is something to be sacrificed. You sacrifice love for happiness sometimes."
Draco looked down at his feet, bringing two fingers up to massage his forehead. It was as if his father was speaking and the words were coming out of her mouth. When he dropped his hand, his eyes were red-rimmed. "Are you going to sacrifice me, Hermione?"
The threat of tears was not idle. Through the barrage, she tried to choke out a response. When she failed, she decided to wait. Once she had regained her composure, she looked up.
And Draco was gone.
***
Hermione rushed back to Gryffindor tower, collapsing on the common room couch. It took her a few minutes to notice Ron seated in the chair across from her, cloaked in the shadows. She started and leaned towards him slightly.
"Ron? Ron, are you alright?"
He laughed and Hermione recoiled.
It was then that she felt the sudden, intrusive wave. It felt as though someone was staring at her, had read her expressions like a book, like they had penetrated her deepest needs and desires. It felt as though her mind was being read. She focused, trying to make her mind blank and glared at Ron. He sighed.
"It doesn't work. Even if you can clear your thoughts, it's too late. I'll have stolen your deepest secrets by now. Even if I hadn't, I'd know that you had some and I'd eventually get them out."
She stared at him, open-mouthed. She wasn't sure what to ask first. How much had he gleaned, how long he'd had the ability… If he'd ever done it before…
Ron sighed again and she felt his presence leave her brain. "No, Hermione. I've never done this to you before. And all that I learned is what I already know. You're desperately in love with Draco Malfoy. Big surprise there. Honestly, Hermione, you have the worst taste in men. First the little four-eyed scarhead and then the man who styles his hair with his own disgusting greasiness. The stupid git."
He noticed her face contorting to one of pride, hurt and offense and he held up a hand. "Hey, I don't care. Whatever makes you happy. I'm just saying…"
He sighed and turned away from her, drawing up his knees. There was a long silence before Hermione decided to speak.
She wondered if he already knew what she would say. By his lack of a response, she decided that he was no longer reading her mind.
"Ron?"
She was surprised at how small her voice sounded.
"Yea?"
"What's going on?"
He sighed and pulled himself up from the chair, shuffling towards the dorms. She frowned at that, noticing for the first time that he was wearing a rather warm-looking cloak. And that he didn't appear to be the slightest bit tired. He seemed… apprehensive. When he passed the couch he stopped, reached down and ruffled her hair. "Wish I knew. Wish I knew… G'night Granger."
Hermione nodded at him, afraid that speech would bring forth the tears already threatening her eyes.
Losing a best friend once is devastating. Losing him twice is worse. But to lose two best friends repeatedly as well as the man you love was simply too much for any girl to bear.
***
Draco took a deep breath and attempted an arrogant stroll into the Potions classroom. Not bloody likely. He felt like shit. He wanted nothing more than to simply lay in his bed, all day, everyday, drink Firewhiskey and eat whatever the House-elves brought him. But he had to go. He had to drag his aching, exhausted body down to Snape's classroom and he had to face her. And, of course, today would be the testing of the Aberro potion. Just his luck. After last night…
He shuddered. Today, in this particular Potions class, he could most definitely not think about any of last night.
He sighed and took a seat at his usual table, fighting the urge to find her face in the room until he could no longer stand it. Oh, and it was worth giving in. Her wild, obnoxious hair, her crinkled, frustrated brow… Her fiery cinnamon eyes… She was looking at Ron. Well… glaring at him was a more appropriate way of phrasing it. He wondered what the wearisome Weasley had done today.
Snape's entrance brought him back to attention.
"If some of you are not too imbecilic to remember, today's class will be spent testing the Aberro Potions you brewed last session. Let's see…"
Draco watched Snape's gaze sweep the room, dropping temptingly on Neville, himself, Hermione, and finally settling on Ron.
"Weasley. Come to the front of the room."
Ron cringed and Draco felt the odd sensation of sympathy wash over him. He felt sorry for Ron. He would give anything to avoid revealing all to this particular audience. He allowed himself to take pleasure in the fact that it was Ron and not him that was at the front of the room, and his sympathies with Ron died.
He waited for Ron to splurt out his long, deep love for Harry and sit down, waited, zoning out the banter between the two, looked at the clock on the wall that read "Not Nearly Time to Go", self-consciously glanced at his potion and finally looked up.
He was most surprised at the scene that met his glance.
***
Ron hadn't wanted to do it. But Snape just had to push it. Snape had to force him up there, to put him on display, knowing damned well that Ron had no need for the Aberro potion to hide his secrets.
So he pushed right back.
I'm not telling you a damned thing, you greasy git.
Snape glared at him and then his gaze swept to the class.
"I'll be interrogating Weasley now in such a manner that I'll essentially be reading his mind. If he has any secrets, no doubt we will soon ferret them out."
He turned to Ron and smiled.
"Weasley, tell me, have you had any inapp-"
Ron's anger had overrun his self-control and before he realized what had happened, Severus Snape lay thrashing on the floor, his mind firmly in Ron's grasp.
Ron let go. Ron let go of Snape's thoughts, of Snape's nerve center… Ron let go of his Potion's Master, let go of the desk he had been leaning against, and fell.
***
The owl had said to meet in the usual place, at the usual time. She hoped dearly that it was not a joke, or some plot for revenge. She knew she couldn't handle that right now. She still felt a sickening pain in the depth of her chest, in her throat, behind her eyes… She maintained the pathetic feeling of someone on the verge of tears.
She was there early and so was he.
The sight of him allowed a few tears to break free, but she forced herself to regain control before she faced him. He was looking out the window.
She approached him carefully, treading on the tiles as if they were eggs. "Draco?"
Draco cleared his throat and turned to face her. "Listen to me, and don't speak. This isn't easy and I'd like to get it over with quickly. It's just that… you have to know. Regardless of what happens. I want you to know." He paused and sighed. "For me, love is sacrifice, Hermione. I would never sacrifice it for anything, but I would give up the world for love… for you."
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Draco brought a finger to her lips. Her eyes and cheeks shined with the same tears, and he could see her pain. He certainly didn't want to hear it as well.
"I hope some day you know how much I'm sacrificing for you right now. I hope some day you can understand that and maybe then you'll really know how much I love you. But you can't know that now. Even if you could, I wouldn't tell you. You're not ready for this," at that he paused, pulling her towards him. She could smell him and she could feel his breath on her forehead… And she never wanted to pull away from him. "This… love."
When he finished speaking, Draco kissed her forehead, pulled away and strode from the room.
Hermione felt as if this was by far the cruelest thing he had ever done to her. With his words echoing in her mind, she collapsed on the floor of the classroom and cried. She cried until she had no tears left, until she couldn't breathe or swallow. When she could cry no longer, she lay there, prostrate, reduced to whimpering until dawn's light intruded on her privacy.
With the light stinging her eyes, she rose shakily to her feet, wiped her face with her shirt, and shuffled from the room.
She didn't know that her tears had been echoed in the dungeons.
***
Harry woke up. He woke up and sat straight up in his bed. Something was different. 'Oh, Merlin…' Everything came rushing back to him. Attempting to absorb months of emotions, memories and facts in a matter of seconds is no easy feat, and so Harry tumbled from his bed. He found himself halfway to the floor, precariously balanced so that his head was barely touching the cool stone. He realized that his feet were still tangled in his sheets.
'Merlin, they're going to think I'm getting worse, not better.' He chuckled and ripped the sheets that had entangled him, leaping to his feet. He had to find Ron. He had to see Dumbledore… He had to… had to see Hermione.
First things first. He sprinted the short distance to Ron's bed and, parting the hangings, began shaking Ron's sleeping body mercilessly.
"Ahh! No! No wait! I don't - I'm not- AHHHHHHRGG NO PLEASE!"
Ron flipped over to find that it was, in fact, Harry who was shaking him awake. He collapsed against the pillows and heaved a sigh of relief. "If you weren't so pitiful right now, I might just have to kill you for that."
Harry paused and bit his lip, now reconsidering telling Ron his news.
"What, Harry? What is it?"
Harry grinned, all death threats forgotten. "I'm back, mate. I'm back."
***
Hermione glanced up from her morning reading to find Harry and Ron eagerly tromping down the stairs from the dormitory. When they reached the common room, the pair skidded to a halt and exchanged a questioning look. Hermione sighed.
"Look, you two do whatever you want. You don't have to worry about me. I won't bother you or tell on you or anything. I'll just get back to my reading."
She turned her attention back to her book, more than a little bitter at her exclusion from their obvious excitement. 'Probably some ruddy Quidditch thing anyway.'
"Hermione, no… Look…"
She looked up at Harry, who was advancing on her quickly. He knelt by the chair she sat in and smiled up at her. 'He looks… No, but it can't be…' She opened her mouth to ask him what was going on, but he brought a finger to her lip, silencing her. He leaned in closer, as if he was telling her the biggest secret of her life. Light danced in his eyes as he whispered, "I'm back, Hermione. I'm all better now".
Her mouth dropped open and she noted Ron slipping out the portrait hole in the background. "You - Harry? You're… You're all right now? Do you remember- What…. How… Do you know- I never…"
She finally gave up on speech and threw her arms around him for the warmest embrace they had shared in two years.
Finally, she pulled away, summoned another armchair and pointed at it with her wand. "Sit. Talk. Explain."
Harry smiled and obeyed. Fifteen minutes later, an awkward silence had already set in.
Harry coughed. "So… Er… Hermione… How has this year been for you? What have you been up to? Any new-"
His face had gone bright red. Something told Hermione that he had suddenly remembered the part about her and Draco. She cleared her throat.
"I've been busy of course. Lots to do. Lots to learn."
Harry nodded and opened his mouth, glancing up at her. He closed it again and focused his gaze on his shoes. He repeated this process several times before Hermione's irritation levels had peaked.
"Just ask, Harry. If you want to know so much, ask."
She hadn't realized she was grinding her teeth. It came out much harsher than she had intended. Surely, Harry wouldn't take it too hard. Draco certainly wouldn't have given it a second thought. By his slowly reddening face, however, she realized that this was not, in fact, Draco.
"Is there… Was there… Has there been something… something between you and Malfoy?"
Hermione laughed. "Yea, Harry. Has been. Doesn't look like there is anymore." She felt a sharp pain in her chest and behind her eyes. No. She wasn't going to cry again. This is exactly what she wanted. This is what she gave up Draco for. Harry. She had him back now. He was okay. She had gotten everything she wanted, so why was she so upset? Life isn't a fairy tale, and anyway, you can't befriend the hero and date the villain.
But Draco wasn't the villain. Oh, she couldn't think like this.
"Hermione?"
The common room came back into focus, and there was Harry… Oh bless him… Harry with his messy black hair and ancient glasses… Harry with his crooked smile and the eyes that lit up just for her… Harry who she would never have to prove herself to, who would never care if she could do wandless magic, whom would never complain if she performed a cheering charm on him… Harry, who was hers, without any effort. Harry who loved her regardless. Harry who loved safely, steadily. Harry, who had not a passionate bone in his body. Harry, who would never burn her with his kisses or freeze her with his eyes. Harry, who would never pain her with a smirk or surprise her with a smile…melt her with a smile.
Harry, who was most certainly not Draco.
Harry, who she was most certainly not in love with.
***
Hermione's nails were bitten nearly to the quick. It was now well after midnight and he wasn't there.
Just as she considered giving up and leaving, the door swung open.
He didn't look good. He looked pained and… was there a limp in his walk?
"Draco."
He didn't acknowledge the fact that she had spoken. His eyes roamed the room, looking everywhere but at her. "What is it, Granger?"
He couldn't have possibly said anything more hurtful. What an artist. "I know what you did."
Draco sighed and propped himself up on a nearby desk, wincing slightly. "You don't know the half of it."
"I know that you undid it… somehow…"
Draco rubbed his eyes. "You have no idea how complicated that curse was, Hermione."
"I thought it was a potion."
"That was the basis for it. There were so many other things involved… that had come into play in some of the Quidditch accidents earlier in the term… some things even from the night Cedric died… The Dark Lord had been working this one out for a while, and he wanted me to pull it all together for him… It didn't just start when you got me those books. It's been going on for some time now… it was one of the most complicated curses I've ever seen."
Hermione's eyes widened a bit, but as she considered what he was saying and what she already knew, subconsciously, she wasn't terribly surprised. She bit her lip. "At first I… I wanted to come here to thank you."
Draco glared at her. "That's what you brought me here for?"
Hermione sighed. "No… Draco… You were right."
He squinted. "Right about what?"
"I was… this… all along. I'm not the girl I used to be. I can't even find common ground for me and Harry… and… I miss you… Christ. It hurts me to see you. I've never felt pain like this before."
Draco sighed and turned his head. When he finally faced her again, she could see what had been tears on his cheeks. "You don't understand, Hermione. When we said goodbye, we said goodbye. I can't take you back. There is no rewind."
"Why not?"
"I belong to someone else now." At that, he pulled up the sleeve of his robe. The dark mark was there, its blackness fading gradually back to a flesh tone. He had been freshly called.
"Is… is that where you were tonight?"
He didn't answer. She should have known that he wouldn't answer a question with no purpose. He crossed the small distance that separated them, kissed her forehead, turned and was gone.
His kiss burned her skin, leaving a mark like the one on his arm. She would still be his, she knew, forever.
***
Lucius winced and dropped his quill, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes. Sure enough, his presence was being requested. He took a deep breath, stood and without a word to Narcissa, he was gone.
"Lucius, how kind of you to join me."
Lucius nodded and kneeled. "The pleasure is all mine, my Lord. How can I be of service?"
Voldemort smiled and waved his hand. "Stand, Lucius. We're friends here. No need for formality."
Lucius obeyed and smiled, but knew that if he ever failed to kneel before his Lord he would suffer for it. It was interesting; the games Voldemort played with people.
"I've called you in on the matter of the girl… I believe her name is Granger?"
Lucius nodded fervently. "Yes, my Lord."
"Do not kill her."
Lucius coughed and glanced up, meeting Voldemort's gaze before he realized what he was doing. He cleared his throat and shot his gaze downward. "I apologize, my Lord. Do you mean that you wish no retribution for her actions?"
Voldemort smiled. "Oh my dear Lucius. How very bloodthirsty you are. Really now, there's no need to go and waste a mind so capable, so easy to turn… so very close to both Harry Potter and, apparently the Dark Arts."
Lucius swallowed.
"Certainly it would have been beneficial for her to die earlier, but now that the curse has been lifted…"
Voldemort's grip tightened on the arms of the chair he was sitting in and he glared into the fireplace.
"You will bring her to me."
Lucius nodded and bowed. "Thank you, my Lord."
As he was turning to go, he was stopped by the cold voice once again.
"Oh and Lucius… Your dear son has really gone above and beyond my expectations of him as of late. I have some rather pertinent matters that we must discuss. I expect I will be calling him soon."
Lucius noted Voldemort's tightening grip on the arms of his chair, didn't miss the hint of irritation in his Lord's demeanor… He nodded and bowed his goodbye once again and wondered desperately what his son could have possibly done to offend the Dark Lord so.
