Chapter Twelve: Present Day
"You made me feel sorry for you!" Hermione choked as she channeled her hate toward the man lying on the ground at her feet. At his quizzical look she continued. "That day, the story of your mother, how she died, how your father killed her. You made me pity you." She broke off and laughed bitterly as she thought back. "I knew you didn't want my pity, but I gave it to you anyway. Foolishly, I cared for you. And then I pitied you. And then I loved you." Her eyes began to shine with tears. "And you threw it all back in my face, you heartless bastard!"
When Draco made no move to speak, Hermione shot small warning sparks from her wand and chuckled as he flinched. "How does it feel to be on the receiving end this time, Malfoy?" Again, he made no move to respond. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" She mocked him with her sneer. "Fine. Then I'll do the talking. How about if I tell you how I feel right now on this end of the wand and you tell me if I'm doing it right," she spit contemptuously.
"I watch you tremble piteously at my feet and I loathe you. I look down my wand at you and I feel more powerful than ten Aurors combined. I think of how easy it would be to kill you right now – reduce you to nothing but dust – and I feel the tang of victory on my tongue." She forced an eerie smile as she asked, "Am I doing it right, Malfoy? Am I feeling the correct emotions? Or is there something else I should be doing to make me more foul, hideous, and loathsome like you?"
When he did not answer she furrowed her brow and her smile gave way to nothingness. "But I could never be like you." Her voice trailed to a whisper as she remembered Ron. "Because I look at you – defenseless and dazed and maybe even a little bit frightened – and I think of the similar expression my fiancée must have given you right before you killed him. And of all the emotions I could and should feel for you – pity and hate included – I feel most compelled by…compassion." She gave a small self-deprecating laugh before turning her attention back to her captive.
Focusing her eyes once again on his, she asked him boldly, "Did you feel compassion that night, Malfoy? The night you took away my life for the second time? Are you even capable of such a true emotion?" Draco's mind was whirling. He didn't know how to answer her questions without upsetting her even more. And so he didn't answer at all…a move which was in itself the wrong answer.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione moved her wand free of Draco's chin but leveled it instead at his heart. "Stand up, Malfoy," she commanded. Slowly, Draco did as he was told, looking for any gap in her concentration to regain the upper hand in this situation. But he was having no luck.
"Killing you would be too easy," she said to him matter-of-factly. "Besides, if you didn't crawl back soon under the rock from which you came, your father would come after you and then I would have to face him as well."
"Hermione, you don't understand," Draco found his voice only to be cut off again.
"No!" shouted Hermione. "It is you who doesn't understand, Malfoy." She took a deep breath to control her emotions before speaking again. "But you will. Trust me on that point. Petrificus Totalis!" And with that she watched as Draco's body gave in to gravity to land with a painful thud. "Oops," she mocked as she levitated him from the ground. "So sorry, Malfoy," she sneered. And with a flick of her wrist she turned to float him back through the woods to her house.