Hello again. This chapter is the climax. Because of what occurs, everything will change between Draco and Hermione.
Why I Hate You
Why are you there when I call?
Hermione was finally, in weeks, happy. She was by herself, surrounded by books. This was perhaps, real bliss. And the best part was that since she was a seventh year, she didn't have to return to Hogwarts until 9 o'clock. She casually flipped through a rather fascinating book about beauty charms. Her mind drifted off to Draco. She didn't know why, but it just did. She was sure that there was definitely something more beneath the surface, and she wanted to find out what it was.
Draco's waning sense of control was taking a serious turn for the worse. Here he was, in his element, and he couldn't concentrate. The storeowner looked at Draco funny. Angry as he was, the pure-blood prince couldn't really blame the man. He looked like hell. Malfoys always looked their best; and here he was: hair ruffled and greasy, clothes disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot from the mixture of lack of sleep and several shots of firewhisky he downed before entering Knockturn Alley. He was a mess, and everyone knew it. He wasn't drunk, just a little tipsy….
Hermione was happy. She was reading the brand new book that no one had read yet, as it wouldn't be released for another week. The only reason she had the book was because she offered a lot of cash, and the shopkeeper was fond of her. Her reading was instantly interrupted when a large crowd seemed to begin forming in front of Zonko's. "Probably some new horrid invention to torture another soul." However, amidst the yelling, Hermione sensed fear. Something told her that whatever it was, she wasn't going to hear good news.
Draco was pissed at everyone. Here he was, trying to wallow in his self-pity, and he couldn't even do that in peace. Ever since he apparated into Hogsmeade, all he received were the dirtiest looks. He couldn't help but wonder, "I know I look crap, but what the hell is going on?" Someone who he had never seen in his life brushed past him while mumbling, "Sadistic bastard." That's when he noticed the crowd in front of Zonko's Joke Shop. And the shocked yells and gasps. "Dammit," Draco thought.
"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" There was a short moment of silence as everyone cautiously glanced at Hermione. "What the hell is going on?" Ginny, with tears in her eyes blurted, "I'm so sorry, Hermione." Hermione froze. She knew something was desperately wrong. "W-what happened? Can someone tell me something, please?" she begged. Neville solemnly handed Hermione an emergency printing of the Daily Prophet. It read:
You-know-who's remaining followers went on a killing spree of muggles in northern England. Reports of muggle law enforcement witness "a bunch of cloaked men waving sticks at people." Two of the muggles that were brutally killed were none other than Richard and Jane Granger, the parents of Hogwarts' brightest witch, Hermione Granger.
"N-no! This has to be a joke. Please- someone tell me this is a joke!" Hermione crumpled to the floor, sobbing so much that she couldn't even breathe. She didn't want to breathe. She didn't want to live when her parents were dead. She wished so much that one of the Death Eaters would come and finish her off. Every breath she took reminded her that she was still alive, and it was killing her. An eerie silence surrounded her. "Hey, what's going on?"
Draco wished he hadn't spoken. Every person in the crowd glared at him with venom in their eyes. Neville, who had acquired an unusual amount of courage over the years, spoke first. "The question is, what are you doing here, Malfoy? Shouldn't you be celebrating with your fellow Death Eaters? After the slaying of all those muggles you should be overjoyed." "What are you talking about, Longbottom? What muggle slaying?" Before Neville could speak, a quiet voice came from within the crowd. "You mean you don't know a thing about why my parents were taken away from me?" Silence. Hermione walked slowly from within the crowd. "Huh?! You don't know anything!!?" She slapped him. "Hermione, don't blame me, I don't know what you're talking about."
He turned and walked away, feeling angry and strangely empty.
In the days that followed, Hermione retreated into her own shell. Nothing anyone said would help. She chose not to go to a funeral; it would be too painful. She didn't go to class, nor did she eat. In just 5 days, she lost 7 pounds, and looked dried up. She didn't even speak to Harry or Ron anymore. After two weeks, she decided to sneak in the library to read a few books, to relax her.
Draco couldn't sleep. Everyone noticed the change in Hermione, and it wasn't for the better. She looked so…empty. He decided that if he wasn't going to sleep, he might as well do something productive. He would go to the library, and read up on some hexes he heard about. As soon as he opened the door to the restricted section, he heard it; a soft crying. And without a second of thought, he knew who it belonged to. Walking along different bookshelves, he found Hermione crouched down, sobbing. She knew immediately that he was there, but she didn't care. "Hermione, I'm sorry about your parents, I really am, but I am in no way responsible. Believe me." To his surprise, she replied, "I know, and I'm sorry. I just need someone to blame. I just miss them so-" She put her head down. Draco didn't know what to do in these kinds of situations. Physical contact was a no.
"Aren't you going to try to comfort me at all?" "Well, what do you expect me to say?" "You could say you don't understand what it's like, but you'll try to listen to me." Draco was baffled. Where did that come from? "Um, okay. All right. I do not know what it's like to lose parents, but I do know what it's like to not have parents at all. To be alone, in essence. Hermione, your parents are gone, but at least you have loads of memories to help you through the hard times. I don't remember one single truly happy memory of my parents. Not one." Both were quiet, thinking. "Damn you, Malfoy. Why do you always do this to me? The moment I make up my mind about you, you go ahead and do something out of character, and I get hurt all over again." "Hermione, I swear. No more. Because you were right, I don't know what I'm doing with my life. I'm scared most of the time about who's watching me and how I'll look."
"Maybe we can try this friend thing? Slow, at first? Then… who knows?" "You know what, Malfoy? I think I can do that."
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