Author: Kiara
Chapter 12: Defeat Is A Matter of Perspective
Characters: Hermione/Draco
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own the song or the Harry Potter characters, places and situations. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, Scholastic Books, and Warner Brothers.
Author Policy: Can be found here.
A/N: As the school year starts, Hermione and Draco find themselves thrown together by a series of events. Sparks fly..what is in store for the two enemies?
I know that this chapter has been particularily long in coming, but I promise that I truly believe that the "creative juices" are once again flowing for this story. Its a bit precious to me, as it really is the first fic I wrote within the HP fandom. I will try to have a new chapter out as soon as possible, and I hope that you enjoy this one. I know it may seem as if it is lacking in plot, but its not really, I promise. I chose to post it as is because I fear otherwise I will not stick to my word and may shrink in the face of the writer's block that plagued me for awhile. Anyhow, read, review and hopefully, enjoy!!
As to the numbering, it is Chapter 12 on here, but Chapter 15 in the full version which can be found on my website.
As the days went by, Hermione struggled to concentrate on her schoolwork, but she found it to be a difficult task indeed. Ordinarily she would have been interested in what they were covering - some of her classes were turning out to be fascinating, covering events and people in history that she admired and had intense curiousity in.
But her heart just wasn't in it. Always in the past she had been able to turn to her schoolwork in a method of escapism when reality got too much for her. Schoolwork was easy - there were certain things required of you, and all you had to do was realize what exactly you had to do in order to meet those requirements, and you were set. There was a certain enjoyment to be found in drawing new knowledge from the old textbooks in the library, feeling the strange sensation of holding them in your hands, where they felt as if they were seeping magic right from betwen their pages and spines. Schoolwork was hardly ever a surprise, even though it was interesting and new. Always before she had turned to it as something that was a sort of solid in the precariousness of th real world, but this time was different. No matter what she did, her thoughts turned again and again to the precarious situation that she was involved in, and everywhere she looked reminders of her potential betrayal of all she held dear stared her in the face...
Professor McGonagall, beaming with pride and awarding Gryffindor twenty points for what she called "Your dignified efforts to get along with young Mr Malfoy. Your willpower and tact is something to be admired, Miss Granger! I know he's really not the most pleasant student to get along with, but you have shown great maturity and made the attempt to be polite!"
Harry, flushed from from wind and excitement after winning a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, enthusiastically shouting to her (as he was hoisted atop the shoulders of his cheering fellow Gryffindors) that she was a great friend for helping him research game maneouvers, and he was sure it was her help that had ensured that he caught the Snitch so quickly.
Ron, jokingly teasing her about her difficulties in class and then looking right into her eyes with his own serious blue ones, telling her that she had always been there for him and that if she ever needed someone to make her laugh, she had only to ask him.
They were so trusting, so sure in their confidence in her. They would never dream in a million years that she would even think of betraying them, that she would be allowing herself to be blackmailed by a greasy old caretaker.She had never realized before what it was like to be living a lie, and looking at their familiar, happy, trusting faces every day was slowly eating away at her spirit.
But the most heartbreaking of all was the loving letter that she got from her parents.
Dearest Hermione:
Your father and I hope that you are having a lovely year at Hogwarts. We know how much you were looking forward to going back and seeing your friends, Ron and Harry, and we hope that you are having lots of fun with them once again this year.
I hope that you are enjoying your classes, that History Of Magical Events one sounds absolutely fascinating. Its interesting to see a different outlook on our own version of the history of the world and of Europe.
I do hope that you will try to keep yourself out of trouble this year, honey. I know that you love Ron and Harry, but it seems to me that they sometimes lead you into rather dangerous adventures.
But remember this one thing darling, for I fear that we do not say it often enough - you have accomplished more than we ever imagined, and we love you dearly. We are so proud of you, dearest, and I know that you will do the same once again this year. We have even already started making plans for the Christmas holidays, but no need to be thinking of that so soon!
Don't forget to brush your teeth, and FLOSS!! Or I will tell all your friends at Hogwarts that Hermione Granger does have a fault - she hates to floss her teeth!!
Love and kisses,
Mom and Dad
After reading the tender little note that her parents had sent her, Hermione finally snapped, bursting into tears as she read it. Luckily she was alone in her dormitory, for the tears flowed unchecked for quite a few minutes as she sat on her bed, the crisp parchment crumpled in her hand.
Each loving word was like a stab to Hermione's heart, for she knew that her parents meant every word that was so neatly penned on the creamy stationary which she recognized as her mother's favourite. She was their only daughter and she knew that they would be proud of her no matter what, but she also knew that they were genuinely proud of all her accomplishments at Hogwarts, and the fine grades she brought home every year.
And now, to save them, she was faced with the miserable truth that in doing so she might have to shatter that very faith and joy that they had in her. The thought going through her head was like agony to Hermione, for never, if she could avoid it, would she willingly hurt her parents - but what other choice did she have?
Draco noticed the change in Hermione when she showed up for class that day. She looked as well put together as ever, but she couldn't hide the slight redness around her eyes, nor the dejected way she was walking - not from him, at least.
He had always been a bit of an observer. It was easier to see through people's facades if you actually watched what they were doing, and didn't pay so much attention to what their mouths were saying. People lied all the time, as easy as breathing or eating or laughing or having sex - it was as much a part of the human psyche as anything else, and people who wanted to have honesty all the time were really just lying as well - to themselves.
So Draco watched. He watched how people looked in class as they got rebuked, how they looked as they laughed, how they looked when they were with the people they loved and the people they hated. He watched how they moved, how their bodies and faces showed tiny signs of what the person within was really thinking. He knew that some people had two identities that they themselves weren't even aware of, and he knew that others were disgustingly shallow, wearing their feelings and secrets out for everyone to see. He had always watched Potter and his little friends, and the recent events with Granger just gave him more reason to watch her.
And now, as he regarded her from his desk at the back of the classroom, he could see the despair in her eyes, the helplessness and the fear. Everything about her was crying out for people to notice, for someone to do something, anything to rescue her from her situation. Her head was held up just as proudly, but her eyes were dark and lonely, her fair skin a bit paler than normal. Potter and Weasley didn't even seem to notice - they were in their usual disgustingly cheerful moods and really didn't seem to notice the aura of stress and sadness that hung around thier best friend.
Draco snorted to himself as he regarded the trio intently. It was beyond him why Granger even tolerated the two bumbling Gryffindors. He knew she had the intelligence to go far if she so desired. If anything, the past years at Hogwarts had taught him exactly that, as he came in behind her in class after class. Word of how she had outsmarted the snarky reporter, Rita Skeeter, had spread, and despite himself, Draco had had to admire Granger's daring and wit. She didn't give up easily - she kept her head in dangerous situations and used her abilities to get herself out of sticky situations, and she was willing to stand up for herself and others. He hadn't forgotten the slap that she had given him - his ears had rung for a good twenty minutes after that blow.
And even though part of him hated to admit it, that only added to his attraction to her - there weren't many girls at Hogwarts who had the mental capacity as well as the guts to spar with him.Some of the Ravenclaw girls were very, very smart, but they were far too snooty to lower themselves and discuss things with a Slytherin. As for the other girls at the school, there were many who were very attractive, to be sure, but Draco had encountered problems with many of them.
Some were too shy, blushing pink and avoiding his eyes when he happened to even glance in their direction, losing their voices when he attempted to talk to them. Others were bold, but boringly so, throwing themselves at him and making it clear that all he had to do was give a sign and they would allow him certain...liberties. He took some of them up on this, of course, but they were all so shallow that he soon grew tired of their little games. Others wanted to be chased and seduced, while others wanted to feel as though they were being forced to give themselves to Draco. The ones that weren't solely interested in kisses and dating and sex were often obsessed with things that he found exceedingly boring. And the majority of them, Draco discovered, were absorbed in themselves and their own little lives. The outside world, the world of magical politics, business and the danger of Voldemort and his Death Eaters was one far removed from them, as far as they were concerned. And it drove him mad to be around them.
Hermione, on the other hand, knew all to well about the outside world, Draco knew. He had heard of her adventures from his father, as Lucius strode up and down his study, forcing his son to listen as he vented on Voldemort's displeasure with his inability to kill Harry Potter and his little group of friends. Draco had listened with growing boredom and disgust, for it was clear, at least to him, that Voldemort was clearly not as powerful and smart as he made himself out to be. If a group of three teenagers could manage to outwit him, it should be obvious that a major overhaul of his methods was required. He wasn't sure what role Weasley played in the little trio, but he was fairly sure that Harry was the brawn and brave of the three, while Hermione was most definitely the brain.
Despite all her experience with danger and stress, however, Draco doubted that Granger had ever actually found her family in danger. Her friends, yes. Herself, yes. The school and others in it, yes. But probably not her family. They were Muggles, and therefore removed to a certain extent from the goings on in the magical world. Hurting Muggles was ridiculously easy for anyone with magical abilities, so therefore many magicians didn't even bother with them unless they really did despise them or felt that hurting a few would be a good thing for themselves.
Of course, his father was one of those wizards. Personally, Draco didn't see what the point was. What did killing a Muggle prove? Nothing. A first year could kill a Muggle, with the right spells or ideas, so why bother? Most of the time they did no harm. Of course they could be annoying, but if everything that was annoying in this world was killed off, Draco was sure not many things would be left. Instead of wasting the time and energy on killing them, it would be better just to play a joke or something like that.
The more he thought about it, the more angry Draco got at the situation that he and Granger were in. He was being forced to pander to a slimy, bitter old man whose whole pathetic little life was revolving around a woman who had died 15 years, and his strange idea of justice. He couldn't even have respect for Filch, because the man wasn't threatening him with anything that he himself could do - only with the old threat of going to someone stronger and more powerful. Filch was a weakling and a coward, and the more he thought at it, the more Draco felt sick at the thought of having to do anything that Filch wanted him to.
He gritted his teeth as he continued to watch Hermione, who had now seated herself in her usual spot between Potter and Weasley. He might not like the Gryffindor know it all, but he did have an odd sort of respect for her, and he would place bets that between the two of them, if they could actually work together, they could bring down Filch and expose him for what he was - a snivelling, pathetic little worm of a Squib.
His mind made up, Draco scribbled hastily onto a piece of paper and then lazily put up his hand.
Professor McGonagall, who had just entered the room, eyed him impatiently over her wire rimmed glasses.
"What is it, Mr Malfoy?" she asked, her irritation at not being able to begin her lesson at once causing her to clip her words off shortly.
"I forgot something in my dorm, is it alright if I go and get it?" Draco asked, turning his most charming smile on the elderly professor. Part of him smarted at having to use such a flimsy excuse, but pride could not stand in the way right now.
Fortunately for him, it appeared that his smile was working today, for while the Professor did not look entirely pleased, she did nod curtly to indicate that he could go. Draco smiled and rose to his feet, walking quickly up the aisle while McGonagall began her lesson. As he went by Granger's desk he brushed ever so slightly against her arm, so slightly that he was sure that nobody else would notice, as their attention was diverted to their teacher. He heard her slight gasp of irritation and smiled to himself as he continued out of the classroom. Hopefully she would be too annoyed at him to notice at first the note that he had dropped onto her desk, he didn't want Potter and Weasley's attention to be drawn to it. He flashed another smile at McGonagall as he exited the room, then, pushing his hands into his pockets, began to stroll lazily down the hall towards the Slytherin Common room.
He hoped that Granger would have the sense not to let Potter and Weasley see the note, but it was out of his hands now. Granger was the one who would have to make the decision. Either she would show him that she deserved the respect that he reluctantly had for her and take up the gauntlet that he had, in a way, thrown down by writing that note, or she would allow Filch to have his way. Either way, their futures depended on how she reacted. It was just a matter of waiting.