Disclaimer: I don't own.
oo Love Sex and a Bottle of Vodka oo
oo Chapter Sixteen oo
Hermione watched the ground carefully as she deliberately put one foot in front of the other as she walked out of the infirmary. She put a hand out to the wall to steady herself. Sighing, Hermione leaned against the wall and sank to the floor, feeling the comforting, familiar smoothness of the stones at her back. She was the one who had insisted on being let out, right?
Hermione felt lost, ever since she woke up. She felt a vague sense of overwhelming loss and she honestly could say she didn't enjoy that. Hermione always made it a point to keep parts of herself to herself, never one to really throw herself headlong into a wild romance that left her broken for months after it fizzled out. She couldn't remember doing such a thing but Hermione felt as though if she ever did, this is what it would feel like.
She sighed again, letting herself relax. She was just a corridor and a half away from the infirmary and walking already felt like a struggle. Hermione desperately wanted to be herself again. Instead she felt silly and weak and incomplete. She knew Harry and Ginny and Ron desperately wanted to help her but she didn't know what she needed help on, exactly.
Hermione put a hand to her laboring heart. Is this what a broken heart felt like? Had she somehow without her knowledge gone and given her heart to someone? For a minute there, Hermione felt like sobbing although she chastised that part of her. Since when was she driven by trivial teen angst? But she couldn't deny the heavy feeling in her stomach and the light-headedness.
She closed her eyes for a moment, just to relax, and then she would get up and make her way to her dorm. But when she opened her eyes, she found a hand in front of her, palm up. It was a kind gesture and a question. Hermione followed the hand up to the long arm and finally onto the face of that blonde boy. Draco, Hermione mused. Yes, that's his name. Was he really the boy that Ron had called a git? Had he really called her a mudblood? Isn't that what Ron said? Or maybe she was getting herself mixed up. She couldn't keep her facts straight ever since she woke up and quite frankly, that worried her and made her wonder how that would affect her schoolwork.
This boy didn't look like he would call her names. He didn't look like the type that her friends and she would call names either. He was offering his hand with the gentlest, kindest, and saddest expression that she had ever seen and even though she hardly knew him, Hermione empathized with him without even realizing it.
She answered his unvoiced question by putting her hand in his larger one and he helped her to his feet.
"I was just going to check on you at the infirmary," he said. "I didn't know Madame Pomfrey would let you out so early." Hermione found it surprisingly hard to talk.
"I...I insisted on being let out, although now I'm wondering if maybe it was a bad idea," she said, somewhat sheepishly. She put a hand to her forehead and the boy started forward looking concerned.
"No, I'm fine, really," she said. "It's just...everything's been such a mess ever since I woke up. Do you know how it feels?" Draco stayed silent. Hermione decided she liked how he gave her time to explain herself, how he waited until she was fully ready to talk.
"It feels as though someone has ripped out my heart and put in a heavy, clumsy substitute," she said, with a wry grin.
"It feels like emptiness and heaviness at the same time. It makes you feel like a wandering amnesiac without the capabilities to focus on one thing for more than a few minutes and you know that you shouldn't be acting this way and you want more than anything to snap out of this reverie but you can't," he said, softly. Hermione tilted her head as she surveyed the boy standing before her.
"Funny how you know precisely how I feel and I know nothing about you," she said. Draco smiled faintly.
"Funny how that is." The corridors seemed strangely empty. Hermione would expect at least one student to come crashing through as a result of a botched Potions experiment or something of that sort, but it felt as though she and Draco were the only two people in the entire castle. She strained to hear noises beyond this hall but there were none.
"You should be resting," Draco said.
"I'm thinking of heading to the Gryffindor common rooms," Hermione said, not realizing she was considering this until she said it. "I need company, not solitude."
"Can I walk you there?" Hermione let her eyes travel to her feet and then back up.
"Because of the poor state that I'm in?" Suddenly, her lips turned into a grin. "Oh, you almost had me. No, Mr. Whoever you are, Draco, you will not find out the entrance to the Gryffindor rooms, at least not from me."
"Then at least let me walk you to the end of the hall?" He looked so sad that Hermione couldn't help agreeing. After all, she needed company, not solitude.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Hermione!" Ginny cried. She looked as though she wanted to throw her arms around the taller girl, but stopped herself.
"You look so tired, are you sure Madame Pomfrey let you out?" she asked. Hermione laughed a little.
"I'm not!" she protested. "I don't know why everyone's blowing this out of proportion."
"Because if you croak on us, we'll never forgive you!" hollered Ron, from the other side of the room where he was teaching wizard chess to Neville.
"How are you feeling anyway?" asked Harry quietly.
"I'm feeling fine, really." Hermione surveyed Harry's face and made an exasperated sigh.
"Honestly, you don't believe me now?" She kicked Harry gently to make him look up at her. He grinned sheepishly.
"Just making sure. What Ron said is true."
"Well then you and Ron have nothing to worry about," Hermione said. Hesitating, she said, "About this Draco character." Ginny looked at her, her golden eyes wide. Harry seemed to watch her carefully and Hermione couldn't tell if he was masking surprise or interest or both or neither. It was always hard to tell what Harry was thinking these days.
"What about him?" Harry said.
"Is he really all that bad? Ron mentioned back at the infirmary that he was a git." Harry and Ginny exchanged looks.
"He's...he's someone you have to decide for yourself," Harry said. Hermione scowled. She wasn't in the mood for roundabout, vague answers.
"What do you mean?'
"Well, what do you think of him?" Ginny asked, carefully. Hermione considered this.
"I think he's sad," she finally said. "Sad and gentle." Ginny pressed her lips together as though suppressing a sharp gasp. Harry leaned forward and put his hand over Hermione's.
"And that's what we mean by deciding for yourself," he said, with a smile.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Draco let himself into his room. He figured he wouldn't hang around the Head Boy and Head Girl's common room. He wasn't quite sure how Hermione would take it if she knew that he was Head Boy. Instead, he sat in his room, a little dejectedly, wondering what the old Draco would be doing.
The old Draco would have been hosting a party of Slytherins in the private common room right now. They would smuggle in champagne and basically make a mess until Snape came along and told them, kindly, to break it up. If the summer really had been erased, then Hermione would have been her usual annoying self, trying to break up the party, maybe even alerting Professor McGonagall. Draco would just laugh in her face and party even harder.
He envied that alterna Draco. Or did he? He considered carefully. As crazy as it seemed, no, no he did not envy that Draco. If he were, then he would have never known the gentleness and the sweetness of a certain messy brown-haired girl. And to think that he had lost it all.
Draco leaned back into the voluminous pillows and settled himself for a weary night of insomnia and broken sleep when he heard a soft knock. He sat straight up and strained his ears. Yes, there was another knock, but it wasn't at his room. It was outside at the entrance of the common room.
He pulled on a robe and left his room and opened the door to the common room. If just a week ago someone was to tell him that Harry Potter would be standing before him, apparently having sought him out, he would he laughed in their face. But here he was now with Harry standing in front of him. Wait, maybe he was looking for Hermione.
"Hermione's not here," Draco said.
"I know. She's spending the night with Ginny. She's still feeling a little...beaten, for the lack of a better word," Harry said.
"What are you doing here?" Harry shrugged.
"I can't sleep these days." Draco nodded.
"Neither can I." Draco cocked his head.
"How did you know where the Head students' rooms are anyway?" Harry grinned crookedly.
"I don't know, I have my ways."
"Did Hermione tell you?"
"Yes." Draco let his own unexpected smile tug at the corner of his lips. Who knew it was possible to hold such a ridiculously civil conversation with Harry Potter? Well all right, he knew but somehow Draco figured that last time was a fluke. Was Harry really this forgiving?
Draco noticed that Harry was holding his broom."Care to join me for a little Quidditch practice?" Harry asked. Yes, yes he was that forgiving. Draco was pleasantly surprised.
"Sure, let me get my broom."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Flying at night seemed like freedom to Draco. As he felt the cold air kiss his face, he finally felt more alive than he had for a long time. He could barely make out Harry, flying beneath him.
"Okay! I'm releasing the Snitch!" Harry hollered. Draco let the familiar hum of excitement and anticipation settle in his bones as he sensed rather than saw the Snitch being released. It was almost impossible to really find the Snitch at this time of night but it gave him and Harry a purpose to be flying around the Quidditch field. If they couldn't find the Snitch by the time they decided to return to the castle, Harry could always call for it using the Summoning Spell he had mastered a couple years ago.
It felt glorious. Absolutely unbelievable to be flying in the dark, searching for the Snitch, and letting his anxiety fall behind him. A warm feeling of competition even started to fizz inside of him as Draco picked up the pace. He narrowly missed Harry who suddenly zoomed by him in the opposite direction and Draco followed him. Harry always had the better eye anyway.
Draco didn't question whether Harry was letting him win or not when he realized he was gaining on the other boy, and then passing him. He didn't care if Harry had let him win (and he was pretty sure Harry had, being considerate like that) and it still felt marvelous to have his hand connect with the warm, round body of the Snitch, with the feathery wings flapping against his hand.
He didn't know what possessed him to do so but Draco suddenly threw both hands off of the broom and flung them wide like a rock star. He closed his eyes. Suddenly he was falling. Was this what Hermione felt like when she fell towards amnesia? When she fell towards forgetting him? Would he forget her too? Draco almost hoped he would. Maybe it would make things a little easier.
Something warm grabbed his arm and instead of plummeting towards the ground, he found himself cradled against Harry. They landed and rolled onto the grass.
"Do I have to keep an eye on you as well as Hermione?" Harry demanded. Draco chuckled. Then he started to laugh. He didn't know what he was laughing about but it felt wonderful, as though he was releasing all of the tension inside of him. The stress that had been relieved when he was flying had completely evaporated as he laughed.
At first Harry looked bewildered but he started laughing as well.
"Gods, you don't know how good this feels," Draco said, throwing his head back, exposing his neck to the heavens.
"Yes I do," Harry said. Draco decided to believe the boy sitting next to him. For the first time in what seemed like weeks, he was content.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo