Darkness Before the Sun Rises
Chapter 5
The next week crept by slower than that of a snail crossing the road. Classes had ended and those who were anxious to go home for Christmas holidays prepared to leave. It was but a few more days before Christmas. Everyone in the Hogwarts School had been affected, somehow and in some way, from the battle nearly two weeks before. No matter what their age, year, or how rich or poor they were, everyone felt the pain of losing someone close to them - whether it be a friend or a family member.
Despite the pain and desolation within their hearts, the students managed to have a merry time the day before they left for the holidays. There was a feast in the Great Hall, filled with all sorts of wonderful foods. The students exchanged their gifts with one another and made promises not to open them until Christmas day.
Draco and Hermione were responsible for seeing that the students going home for Christmas made it onto the Hogwarts Express safely. With a great amount of animosity between them, the two had managed to fulfil their job as requested by Dumbledore, only speaking to one another when it was absolutely necessary. It was tense, to say the least. So uptight, that the tension could be cut with a knife. Fortunately, they were able to mask their acrimony; Hermione put up a Happy façade, and Draco hid behind his usual smirk. The departing students never knew of the fight between the two Heads.
Once the train departed, both Hermione and Draco went their separate ways. Neither of them had anyone in the castle to spend the holidays with, which gradually caused a great amount of loneliness and depression to set in. They caught a glimpse of one another at meal times and occasionally in the common room. All the while, they never once said a word about the night they had fought.
Draco's mind, following the days after their squabble, contained nothing but that evening and the events that had taken place. His actions were justified, but yet he felt ashamed for nearly hitting the girl. She was right to think that he was like his father. The two had the same temper when dealing with heated discussions. The morals that he had placed on a pedestal had come crashing down at the slightest insult directed at him. He almost hated himself for all the things he had said to her. The names he had called her and the moment he had nearly hit her. Why did he even care? He wasn't supposed to, but yet he did. He actually wanted her to know that he was not like his father. He wanted her to see that he had a heart, maybe not a sensitive and loving heart, but a heart nonetheless. He cared and that's all that mattered.
Hermione, on the other hand, tried to erase all thoughts of her and Draco's last argument. Agonizing over those details had distracted her from more important things happening around her - Harry and Ron for instance. She was always in the library searching the hundreds of books for any information on the Placidus Casus curse. If she weren't there, she would be with Dumbledore. She designated one hour a day to the Headmaster, quizzing him for any information on either Ron or Harry.
The only time Hermione saw Draco Malfoy was when they were both eating in the Great Hall or in their common room. To her relief, Malfoy didn't even address or so much as look at her on the few occasions they had come across each other. It was a good feeling, yet it was odd. She almost missed the disputes they shared; for he was the only one in the school who could battle on the same intellectual level as she.
Even though Hermione never thought of the blond-haired Slytherin during the day, she would think of him constantly at night, right before she went to sleep. The way he had shown a small flicker of concern for her in Knockturn Alley, how he had let his guard down and had shown his true anger to her. It was unnerving to say the least. For the six years in which she had known Draco Malfoy, he had never let his emotions get out of hand; for he always kept them closely guarded. But for the first time, he had shown his true self. It was the side of him that was passionate and displayed the truth that he actually cared what others perceived of him.
Hermione regretted comparing Malfoy to his father, but she felt that her assessment was somewhat correct. He had always been like his father, and for all she knew, he always would. Though, there was also the fact that he had not joined the realm of the Death Eaters. That in itself was a miracle. Everyone had always thought that he would be the first in their year to receive the Dark Mark, yet he hadn't.
Sighing out loud, Hermione sat up in her bed, thoroughly exhausted, yet unable to sleep. She looked out the bay window at the cold night sky. The stars hung in the black abyss, twinkling and shining ever so brightly. She sat in her bed, legs crossed and gazed at the constellations. Cassiopeia and Orion were visible, as were Ursa Minor and Major. She sighed again, laying back on the pillow and stretching her legs out. It was far too difficult to fall asleep. So many thoughts and problems were constantly on her mind that she felt as if she had a headache all the time.
She turned onto her side, gathering the warm blankets up to her chin, begging for sleep to take her away. After another agonizing span of thoughts on the Slytherin, she drifted to a fitful sleep. One filled with dreams of gore and heartache.
Screams filled the witches dreams. Screams that were familiar yet foreign in many aspects. She knew who they belonged to, but the agony they displayed cut through her sensitive heart.
It was Ron.
She could hear him, begging for help, begging for a small shard of life to hold onto. Hermione could then see him, chained to a wall, blood and bruises decorating his once flawless skin. She cringed and cried out at seeing his body and the pain he was in.
She tried to reach for him, but someone blocked her path.
A hooded man stepped in front of her, preventing her from getting any closer but she could hear the sounds of a whip lashing against Ron's skin and the screams that followed. Then there was silence, nothing was audible, save that of her sharp breaths.
The hooded figure disappeared, revealing Ron's lifeless body on the floor. She ran to him, crying out, screaming. The tears were falling from her eyes. He didn't hear her. She felt as though she had been running for hours yet she couldn't get to him. It was as if he kept disappearing farther and farther away...
It was a nightmare, but yet it was happening, she was sure of it. He was there, as clear as day.
She could smell the suffocating stench of the dungeon.
She could hear the cries of others.
She called out for help.
She called numerous times, sobbing for her friend.
Draco sat in the Common Room, immersed in the book, The Great Gatsby; another great muggle book that he was sure would shock everyone in school if they knew he were reading it. It was one of his favourites out of the small stack he had. The story of the Roaring Twenties was exciting. Elegant parties, romances, death, and deception. What more could a person ask for in a book?
He had just turned a page when a blood-curdling scream reached his ears. He nearly jumped an entire foot at the sound. Honestly, what was it with people trying to scare the wits out of him recently? He looked towards the Head Girl's bed chambers, where the scream had transpired. A mix expression of puzzlement and concern crossed his features as his hands gripped the book. He didn't know if he should go and see if everything was all right or if he should continue to sit and ignore her.
After much deliberation, he decided on the latter, arguing that she had been the one to insult and belittle him. So, therefore, he had no reason to try and help her. He couldn't care less if someone was in there trying to kill her. 'She deserves it', his mind concluded. With that, he resumed his reading.
"Somebody help! Please!" Her cries carried to that of the common room and Draco, who had only resumed his reading for a few moments, jumped to his feet and raced to her room.
Arriving at her floor, he grabbed hold of the doorknob. It wouldn't turn! He thought of turning right back around and heading for his own room when another blood curdling scream rang out from somewhere on the other side of the door. This jolted him into action. Without thinking twice, he bypassed the polite knocking and opened the door with the Alohamora charm. He stepped inside; eyes taking in the chamber and it's decorum. 'Not too shabby,' he thought, momentarily forgetting his mission. He looked around the spacious room for any sign of trouble, but found none.
His eyes settled on the bed in front of him and his expression softened. There was no villain, but that of an apparent bad dream. He silently approached her bed, noticing the sharp intakes of breath and the way she gripped the sheets. Draco stood over the witch, watching her carefully.
"Please, somebody help." Draco heard her plea. "No, no. Please don't be dead. No!" she cried, actual tears coming out pouring her eyes.
Draco was taken aback. He gripped her shoulders and tried to shake her awake.
"Granger!" he shouted, worry coursing through him. "Granger, for Dumbledore's sake, wake up!" He shook her one final time before releasing his hold on her.
Draco watched as her eyes flew open and her body lurch into a sitting position. She grasped her chest, calming her breathing.
Hermione had yet to notice the presence of Draco Malfoy. It had been so real. The dream. Ron was there, right in front of her eyes, but yet she couldn't reach out to him in time. He had died because she had been too late.
'It was a dream, just a dream. Relax Hermione.' She reasoned.
She shook her head, trying to clear the gory details. The action alerted her to the presence of someone else in her room. She squinted her eyes and could make out the blond hair - trademark of the Malfoys.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she asked, bringing the sheets higher up her chest.
Draco didn't respond for sometime, having been entranced by her vulnerability. He shook his head, trying to regain control over his thoughts. He had indeed been worried about the mudblood. This realisation disturbed him. 'No, no, Draco, you don't care about her! Not in the slightest. Be cruel. Be insensitive. Show her just how much of a bastard you can be.' His thoughts fought with the nagging sensation at the pit of his stomach. He turned his head to the side, and placed the infamous smirk on his face. "I thought you were being tortured, I came to watch the show," he retorted.
Hermione threw him an appalled look. How dare he! "Get out, Draco Malfoy!" she shouted.
"What's the matter? Did the brave Gryffindor get scared by a dream?" He smirked, returning to his old self.
"No! I did not! Now get out." She pointed to the door across the room.
His gaze travelled along her outstretched arm, but he ignored it. "I thought I already told you that you were a horrible liar," he recalled. "Honestly, Granger, if you're going to lie, at least learn to do it properly."
"How dare you! Get out of my room before I curse you into oblivion!" With that, she reached for her wand on the bedside table and pointed it at him.
He stared at her, mildly surprised, but not showing it. He advanced a few steps forward, daring her to do it. With each step, her eyes became wider and her hand shook. With barely a foot between them, he looked her straight in the eyes, seeing a mixture of defiance and unease.
"Malfoy," she whispered. "Please, just leave."
The smirk on his face slowly disappeared as he looked at the girl in the bed. Her vulnerability and innocence were overwhelming. He studied her, the moon casting its rays upon her. He thought her pretty, which was an odd thought for him, but he could not deny it. Her pouty lips, the hair that was everywhere during the day somehow calmed itself at night, and those captivating eyes. He averted his gaze and with a small nod left the room. As he shut the door, he could hear her utter another locking spell. He sighed and leaned back against the wall, his thoughts in a jumble.
His actions once again confused him, and he knew he would get very little sleep that night. Just like the day when he had saved her, he had tossed and turned the entire night, barely getting a few hours of sleep before the wretched sun rose over the hills, announcing the start of a new day.
He ran a hand through his hair before pushing himself off the wall and walking back down to the common room. He smiled as he saw his book lying uncannily on the floor. He retrieved it before sagging into the comfortable couch, resuming where he had left off.
Christmas Eve arrived two days after Hermione and Draco's midnight escapade. Those that remained in the castle were anxiously waiting for the next day. Everyone was filled with merriment. Even Hermione had a spark of the Christmas spirit. It wasn't as strong as in years past, but it was still there, kindled in her heart. She knew that the Christmas season meant a time of rejoicing and hope that all things will eventually be all right. In her heart, she believed that such things were possible.
She sat with a blanket on the seat by the bay window in the Head's common room. A book lay in her hand, but she had yet to begin reading it. She looked out over the snowy terrain of the Hogwarts grounds. It was picturesque. She could see a couple, who had obviously decided to stay for the Christmas holiday to spend time with one another, down below having a snowball fight. It was obvious the boy was going easy on the girl. Their kindred feelings for one another were obvious, even four stories above the ground.
A smile played on her face as she watched the two below. It was her first real smile in weeks, and it felt good.
She turned her attention away from the window at the sound of pages turning. Her attention turned to a certain Slytherin who sat reading on the couch. Unable to make out the title of the book, she allowed herself to scrutinize the individual whilst he wasn't looking. She had never taken the time to study his appearance, or anything about him for that matter. All she had ever noticed was his insistent banter about her being a muggle-born and his prejudice against her for that fact. Everything else she had learned through Ron and Harry. She watched as his eyes danced over the pages of his book. The way his forehead would wrinkle then relax as if given the answer to a very important question. She watched as his index finger tapped rhythmically against the hard cover.
A persistent tapping on the window pane made Draco look up. Their eyes met for a brief moment. She was able to take in those magnanimous grey orbs. She watched as he quirked an eyebrow. "Well, aren't you going to get that?" he asked.
She looked at him incredulously.
"The owl, Granger. Get it before I turn it into a feather duster."
She turned back to the window to notice a beautiful white owl. "Hedwig!" She cried, once again disturbing Draco. She jumped out of her seat and opened the window. The animal flew around the room before landing on her desk and she briskly walked over, ignoring the quizzical look Malfoy was giving her. She grabbed a treat from a bowl on one of her bookshelves and fed one to the creature as she untied a letter from his leg.
Draco watched her from where he lay stretched out on the couch. She opened the letter and her eyes lit up as each word filtered through her head. A beaming smile shone on her face and she let out a small squeal before tossing the bird another treat and rushing out the common room.
Draco continued to stare at the spot where she had just stood, a curious expression on his face. He placed his book on the side table and stood up. The bird was looking at him as he moved to her desk.
She had dropped the letter.
He stared at it for a moment before glancing towards the common room door, then back to the bird, then back to the door again. He bent over and retrieved the parchment. Opening it up, he read:
Hermione,
I'm really sorry for my wretched behaviour two weeks ago. I've had a lot of time to think since then. I really, really want to see you. Would you come and visit me in the hospital? I miss you. I truly do. Christmas this year won't be the same without you. If you don't come, I understand. I would hate me too if I were in your position. In fact, I hate myself for the way I treated you that day. I really am sorry.
Happy Christmas,
Love,
Harry
I just want you all to know that I appreciate every single review that I get. They truly motivate me to write! They really do. So this chapter was for all those that have reviewed. Thank you so much. :D