Chapter 6:
The next night of detention wasn't so bad either. We both remained civil towards each other long enough to get through the three hours of cleaning. I even remembered my cloak this time. The same counted for the next week. We never really spent much time with each other, just in the common room and such. We were able to keep the personal insults to a minimal, and in return got to sleep much nicer. Often times we would do our homework together, or just sit in the green and maroon sofas reading a book. We would help each other out on homework, helping in each others weak points. It felt good not to have a total enemy anymore.
But, it wasn't as perfect as it seems. He still acted snotty and jerky around his friends. Which I understand, because he has a rep to hold up. But it hurts me even more now than it did before, because I know how he truly is now. I know what kinds of things he feels, and the kinds of things that he thinks, and vise versa. But when I see that ugly smirk or glare, my heart sinks a few inches, because I know he could be better, if he would just try.
Tonight was a similar night. We had been in school almost two weeks, and I was sitting on the couch with my legs tucked underneath me. Draco was at the table doing his Arithmacy homework, which I had finished ages ago. He asked if he could copy mine, but I told him I never let people copy, not even Harry or Ron. I was already halfway through Hogwarts: A History, again. I had read it at least ten times, but it had always been my favorite.
"Done!" Draco announced triumphantly, slamming his Arithmacy book shut and striding over to the sofa across from mine. He slumped down and rested his head on the arm rest, rubbing his eyes. "I don't know how you can do that so easily. That subject is the most grueling and nasty subject that has ever been invented."
"Its quite easy actually, you just have to understand it. Plus, I have been taking it far longer than you, I did the stuff we're learning ages ago," he nodded and stared up at the ceiling. I looked over my book at him. He looked so peaceful and calm when he wasn't stalking down the hall, picking on innocent little first years. "Draco?"
"Hm?"
"I was just wondering, why do you do all those mean things to people. You know, call them names, and pick on them. Wouldn't Pansy and all those other people understand if you said it was all stupid and stopped?"
He chuckled to himself. "That is an area where you can't possibly understand what could come out of it."
"I could too understand, explain it to me," I demanded. He smiled, looking at me like a little child, who was too immature to understand the simplest of things.
"Look, I have to maintain the Malfoy name. It's just that simple."
"But why? Why can't you make a new Malfoy name? Why do you have to follow in your fathers footsteps?"
He sat up in his chair and filled his hands with his face. "Hermoine, I have to follow my father. I have to become a death eater. You just don't understand. I have to, I don't have a choice."
"That's just it, you do have a choice. You can choose what you do with your life; your father can't choose that for you. You could do so many things if you would just stand up to the system!" I cried. I didn't know why I was getting all worked up over this. It was just that he could really be great if he wouldn't join the dark lord. He could do great things. But he would never go anywhere when being puppeted around by his father.
"Hermoine!" he stood up, pacing around the floor, his hands on the sides of his head. He turned and faced me, pleading and sadness written all over his face. This was not an easy subject for him. "Maybe you don't seem to understand, but if I were to just say, 'I don't want to be a Malfoy anymore', then you have no idea what I would be giving up!"
"I know what you will be giving up if you don't," I said, plainly and calmly to him. Draco's face softened a bit, and walked over and sat next to me on the sofa.
"Hermoine," he said quietly. "Voldemort is powerful. I would be killed sooner or later if I gave up the dark mark, you know that."
"You will be killed just as soon if you join up with him. Either that or be thrown in Azkaban. Is that something you really want to endure? The guilt of killing countless innocents, and that you have thrown away your entire life to do something so awful. But at least if you walk away from all of that, you may have some chance of getting what you want out of life."
I looked over at him, and he was looking straight at me, with his grayish blue pools. They glistened. But they didn't glisten with hatred like I had thought they had. They glistened with respect, and happiness. "When did you get so smart?" he asked. "Don't answer that," he smiled. I laughed a little, knowing that he had finally seen the light. "Ok, I will try to tell father how I truly feel." He looked a little uneasy at the thought of speaking to his father.
"What is the matter?" I asked.
"It's just that it will be hard to try and convince him that this is what I want."
"Shouldn't he come around sooner or later, you're his only son," I tried pointing out. He shook his head.
"You don't know my father like I do. He won't come around very easily. He never has. He has never understood what I really wanted, just what he wants. The only reason him and my mum had me was so he could produce an heir. That's all he cares about. That is why he has always taught me to show no emotions, no feelings for anyone. He would always cut me down, and not always with words…" he trailed off there.
He looked away from me, and I could see the pain on his face, recalling countless memories. I figured it out before he could even mention it. His father abused him. It wasn't unnoticeable. He had said his father made him sleep in the cellar often. I didn't know what to do or say. I did the first thing that came to mind, and I did it without thinking. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him as tightly as I could in a warm embrace. He didn't know what to do at first, but hugged me back. I pressed my face into his shoulder. I felt sorry for him, more than I should have. We just sat there in each others arms for a few minutes. I could tell that this is what he needed. I wondered how long it had been since he had been held like that by someone. All he needed was tender care, which was something I was good at. I had perfected my skills at the last two years, having to comfort Harry after Serius' passing. It felt odd having to comfort Malfoy in the same fashion, because I had never been this close to him before. I had never thought of Malfoy as a real person, who had feelings just as the rest of us do. He had never shown his feelings around me, and before this year, he could have walked off a cliff and I would not have lost a bit of sleep over it. But here he was, holding me in his arms like a real person. It's funny how people can have a whole other being underneath their dark and rigid exterior.
We pulled away, and I looked at him. He didn't look so pained any more, and that made me happy. "Hermoine, you have no idea how much you have helped me this year, truly," Draco said. That was something I hadn't expected, out of Malfoy of the least.
"Glad to help," I said. "You have made a big difference in me as well. I don't know how I would have gotten through this year with just Harry and Ron."
Draco smiled and stood up. "Well, I'm off to bed. See you tomorrow."
"Night," I said, retreating to my room. I fell back on my bed, thinking about what just happened. I couldn't believe I actually had an emotional, embracing conversation with Hogwarts' bad boy. It was just impossible. Well, I will surely not be able to mention any of this around anyone else. First of all, they would call me nutters, second of all, people would think we were getting close, a little too close. Oh well, let them think what they want.
