Chapter 7
A/N: As usual, special thanks to:
kole17- Thanks so much, hunn. I love talking to you online, and helping with your story. It's fun. Thanks for being a faithful reviewer.
Artemis MoonClaw- Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you like it.
Lila- Sorry you had to wait so long. I got a bit lazy, but I'm back. I'll get writing the next chapter right away.
Erica/My Comforting Lie33- Thank you, I tried to be descriptive enough, without overdoing it. Thanks for being a faithful reviewer. Hope you like!!
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I think I'll take a moment to explain Dumbledore's part in all this. Dumbledore, as you know, is very wise. He knew that Gryffindor and Slytherin were rivals. Not one Gryffindor got along with a Slytherin. This was why he decided to start a program. He didn't want to force anyone to become friends, but he wanted to stop the constant fighting.
There were three pairings that had not been random. Actually, there were four. He had paired Neville Longbottom with Hannah Abbot. That poor boy would have been miserable with any Slytherin. However, there were very good reasons for the Golden Trio.
Harry Potter and Dain Goyle, and Ron Weasley and Vincent Crabbe. Yes, Dumbledore had known about the Polyjuice Potion in their second year. It was no coincidence. Of course, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger's pairing had been carefully thought out. If you remember, Dumbledore is skilled at Legilimency to a certain extent. He knew what was going on in their heads. They just needed a push. And then, they'd ben an example to the other students.
After the first song Draco and Hermione danced to, Dumbledore saw they were talking. So he made sure another slow song had come on. It was working.
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Where you were left:
"...It's no excuse for how I've been, but he does have faults. But I'm trying," he said, getting angry.
Oh no, he's doing it again, she thought. He's being sensitive, and making me like him. The song had ended and another had started...
They were still dancing, but not as mechanically as they had been before. Hermione looked at Draco, studying his face. He looked really worked up about it. Something told her he was being truthful. He really was struggling about his home life. He was trying to be better.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. Now it was his turn to step on her foot.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Don't worry about it," he said, in response to her offer. She rolled her eyes.
"Draco, if you're really trying, you've got to lighten up a bit. Don't be so hard-shelled," she told him. He was about to say a snide remark, but he bit his tonque. Be nice, he reminded himself, like a mother would remind her child.
"Sure," he said. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"Really? You'll talk to me about it?" she asked.
"I said I would, didn't I?" he asked, a little annoyed. Instead of returning the bitterness, she smiled. He rolled his eyes. He hated softness; it hurt his ego. But that's how his father is, and it wasn't how he wanted to be.
Draco and Hermione sat down at a table near a corner of the Hall. No one else was around; Harry and Ron were dancing with their dates, as was everyone else. Hermione looked at Draco expectantly. He began to rethink this whole "soft" act. It wasn't him at all. He pushed it out of his mind. After all, Harry was soft-shelled, but he wasn't a wimp, no matter how often Draco made fun of him about it.
"What do you want me to say?" he asked her.
"Well, why do you think you're always so bitter?" she suggested.
"I'm not here for a counseling session," he snapped.
"I didn't say you were. I was just trying to he--" she said softly, but he cut her off.
"What, help me? You think you can help what my life's been like all these years? No one can 'help'," he said angrily, biting off the word "help" as though it left a nasty taste on his tongue. "No one ever wanted to help then, and I don't need it now," he spat.
Hermione looked ready to cry. Draco could see her eyes glazed over.
"I'm sorry," he said softening. "I didn't mean to bite your head off," he said. "My father was never a good person. He was always horrible," he began. Hermione shifted in her seat and got set to listen. She was very curious as to what caused him to become so emotional.
"You probably know he's a Death Eater. He would...practice curses on me. Not the very serious ones, but things like Imperius and Cruciatus. I got used to it after awhile. It's like, if you hold an ice cube in your hand, the first couple minutes hurt. But after awhile, your hand becomes numb, and you can't feel it anymore," he explained. "I don't know what's worse: the physical pain of the curses, or the mental pain of knowing your own father didn't care what you felt."
Hermione sat there, stunned. She knew Lucius was terrible, but not like this. It was unimaginable.
"To everyone else, it looks like I'm a spoiled brat. But do you know out of the twenty servants in our house, not one serves me? My father forbade it. Apparently, I should fend for myself. Weakness is a definite no- no in my house. And any emotion other than anger is considered weakness. I had to keep up the wall of anger at school, too, because I couldn't let any good habits slip at home. Do you see why I'm like I am?" he asked her.
She nodded meekly. I am so lucky I have parents like mine, she thought, sadly. "What about your mother?" she asked. "Is she like him?"
"No, she wasn't," he answered. She caught the change in tense.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean she's dead. And I saw it happen," he said coldly. Hermione's blood froze. He saw the questions in her eyes, clear as day.
"Yes. My father killed her. Right in our house. One night, my father came into my room. He said he wanted to discuss my future...as a Death Eater. I told him I didn't want to be a Death Eater, and he didn't like that. He put the Cruciatus Curse on me. My mother heard me screaming. It was the first time she'd witnessed him curse me. She panicked, and told him to stop. He didn't like that either. She stepped in front of him to stop him, but he hit her and threw her aside. She fell on the ground, but stood up again. 'Stop Lucius, please!' she screamed. He took his wand and said, 'You are not to speak unless spoken to.' Then he...killed her. I didn't even hear him say 'Avada Kedavra.' She fell to the floor. I'll never forget the look on her face. Her eyes were wide open, in fear of him and love for me."
Hermione now had tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked in Draco's face as a single tear made its way out of his eyes, and slid down his face. Then another followed. He was crying, for the first time in his life. Hermione's mascara was running, but she paid no mind to it. He looked so hurt, sad, and bitter. On instinct, she leaned over and hugged him.
At first, he was extremely surprised, and almost angry he had let down his shield of coldness. But no one but his mother had ever hugged him like this before, and now she was gone.
"You know, you're the only person who's cared about me, and I've treated you worse than anyone," he said, with a small laugh. She shook her head. "Well, if you stay this nice, it'll continue. We can even be friends, that is, unless you're embarrassed," she said quietly. He hesitated a moment, thinking.
He shook his head. "No, I don't care what people think of me. There's nothing wrong with you; I was just too bitter about everything to notice." Hermione blushed, then smiled.
"Do you wanna go dance again?" she asked.
"Sure," he said, and it felt as though a huge weight was lifted from their shoulders. Harry and Ron spent the entire ball with their dates. Normally, Hermione would have felt very left out. However, today she didn't care; she was even grateful. At least for now, she wouldn't have to argue with them about the new Malfoy.
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A/N: I hope you liked this, and I hope it isn't moving unbearably fast. I'll try and update soon. Love ya!! Amber
A/N: As usual, special thanks to:
kole17- Thanks so much, hunn. I love talking to you online, and helping with your story. It's fun. Thanks for being a faithful reviewer.
Artemis MoonClaw- Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you like it.
Lila- Sorry you had to wait so long. I got a bit lazy, but I'm back. I'll get writing the next chapter right away.
Erica/My Comforting Lie33- Thank you, I tried to be descriptive enough, without overdoing it. Thanks for being a faithful reviewer. Hope you like!!
**************************************************************************** *******
I think I'll take a moment to explain Dumbledore's part in all this. Dumbledore, as you know, is very wise. He knew that Gryffindor and Slytherin were rivals. Not one Gryffindor got along with a Slytherin. This was why he decided to start a program. He didn't want to force anyone to become friends, but he wanted to stop the constant fighting.
There were three pairings that had not been random. Actually, there were four. He had paired Neville Longbottom with Hannah Abbot. That poor boy would have been miserable with any Slytherin. However, there were very good reasons for the Golden Trio.
Harry Potter and Dain Goyle, and Ron Weasley and Vincent Crabbe. Yes, Dumbledore had known about the Polyjuice Potion in their second year. It was no coincidence. Of course, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger's pairing had been carefully thought out. If you remember, Dumbledore is skilled at Legilimency to a certain extent. He knew what was going on in their heads. They just needed a push. And then, they'd ben an example to the other students.
After the first song Draco and Hermione danced to, Dumbledore saw they were talking. So he made sure another slow song had come on. It was working.
**************************************************************************** *******
Where you were left:
"...It's no excuse for how I've been, but he does have faults. But I'm trying," he said, getting angry.
Oh no, he's doing it again, she thought. He's being sensitive, and making me like him. The song had ended and another had started...
They were still dancing, but not as mechanically as they had been before. Hermione looked at Draco, studying his face. He looked really worked up about it. Something told her he was being truthful. He really was struggling about his home life. He was trying to be better.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. Now it was his turn to step on her foot.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Don't worry about it," he said, in response to her offer. She rolled her eyes.
"Draco, if you're really trying, you've got to lighten up a bit. Don't be so hard-shelled," she told him. He was about to say a snide remark, but he bit his tonque. Be nice, he reminded himself, like a mother would remind her child.
"Sure," he said. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"Really? You'll talk to me about it?" she asked.
"I said I would, didn't I?" he asked, a little annoyed. Instead of returning the bitterness, she smiled. He rolled his eyes. He hated softness; it hurt his ego. But that's how his father is, and it wasn't how he wanted to be.
Draco and Hermione sat down at a table near a corner of the Hall. No one else was around; Harry and Ron were dancing with their dates, as was everyone else. Hermione looked at Draco expectantly. He began to rethink this whole "soft" act. It wasn't him at all. He pushed it out of his mind. After all, Harry was soft-shelled, but he wasn't a wimp, no matter how often Draco made fun of him about it.
"What do you want me to say?" he asked her.
"Well, why do you think you're always so bitter?" she suggested.
"I'm not here for a counseling session," he snapped.
"I didn't say you were. I was just trying to he--" she said softly, but he cut her off.
"What, help me? You think you can help what my life's been like all these years? No one can 'help'," he said angrily, biting off the word "help" as though it left a nasty taste on his tongue. "No one ever wanted to help then, and I don't need it now," he spat.
Hermione looked ready to cry. Draco could see her eyes glazed over.
"I'm sorry," he said softening. "I didn't mean to bite your head off," he said. "My father was never a good person. He was always horrible," he began. Hermione shifted in her seat and got set to listen. She was very curious as to what caused him to become so emotional.
"You probably know he's a Death Eater. He would...practice curses on me. Not the very serious ones, but things like Imperius and Cruciatus. I got used to it after awhile. It's like, if you hold an ice cube in your hand, the first couple minutes hurt. But after awhile, your hand becomes numb, and you can't feel it anymore," he explained. "I don't know what's worse: the physical pain of the curses, or the mental pain of knowing your own father didn't care what you felt."
Hermione sat there, stunned. She knew Lucius was terrible, but not like this. It was unimaginable.
"To everyone else, it looks like I'm a spoiled brat. But do you know out of the twenty servants in our house, not one serves me? My father forbade it. Apparently, I should fend for myself. Weakness is a definite no- no in my house. And any emotion other than anger is considered weakness. I had to keep up the wall of anger at school, too, because I couldn't let any good habits slip at home. Do you see why I'm like I am?" he asked her.
She nodded meekly. I am so lucky I have parents like mine, she thought, sadly. "What about your mother?" she asked. "Is she like him?"
"No, she wasn't," he answered. She caught the change in tense.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean she's dead. And I saw it happen," he said coldly. Hermione's blood froze. He saw the questions in her eyes, clear as day.
"Yes. My father killed her. Right in our house. One night, my father came into my room. He said he wanted to discuss my future...as a Death Eater. I told him I didn't want to be a Death Eater, and he didn't like that. He put the Cruciatus Curse on me. My mother heard me screaming. It was the first time she'd witnessed him curse me. She panicked, and told him to stop. He didn't like that either. She stepped in front of him to stop him, but he hit her and threw her aside. She fell on the ground, but stood up again. 'Stop Lucius, please!' she screamed. He took his wand and said, 'You are not to speak unless spoken to.' Then he...killed her. I didn't even hear him say 'Avada Kedavra.' She fell to the floor. I'll never forget the look on her face. Her eyes were wide open, in fear of him and love for me."
Hermione now had tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked in Draco's face as a single tear made its way out of his eyes, and slid down his face. Then another followed. He was crying, for the first time in his life. Hermione's mascara was running, but she paid no mind to it. He looked so hurt, sad, and bitter. On instinct, she leaned over and hugged him.
At first, he was extremely surprised, and almost angry he had let down his shield of coldness. But no one but his mother had ever hugged him like this before, and now she was gone.
"You know, you're the only person who's cared about me, and I've treated you worse than anyone," he said, with a small laugh. She shook her head. "Well, if you stay this nice, it'll continue. We can even be friends, that is, unless you're embarrassed," she said quietly. He hesitated a moment, thinking.
He shook his head. "No, I don't care what people think of me. There's nothing wrong with you; I was just too bitter about everything to notice." Hermione blushed, then smiled.
"Do you wanna go dance again?" she asked.
"Sure," he said, and it felt as though a huge weight was lifted from their shoulders. Harry and Ron spent the entire ball with their dates. Normally, Hermione would have felt very left out. However, today she didn't care; she was even grateful. At least for now, she wouldn't have to argue with them about the new Malfoy.
**************************************************************************** ******
A/N: I hope you liked this, and I hope it isn't moving unbearably fast. I'll try and update soon. Love ya!! Amber
