Chapter 15
Hermione was flooded with memories as she walked down the hall toward the infirmary. She had horrible memories, of Draco's doppelganger, and of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. She could see the scuff-marks where she had fallen when she was running from Draco's doppelganger, and when they stood in front of the infirmary, she could see faint traces of black dried blood that had spilled when Voldemort had died. According to popular gossip, the house elves had scrubbed and scrubbed, but the blood had stained the floor black.
She pushed the infirmary door open and saw Madame Pomfrey leaning over a white bed. Harry grabbed her elbow as she staggered, suddenly wishing she hadn't come. She felt a strange sense of déjà vu; after Draco had been spattered with potion, she had gone to visit him, and been scared to death that he would push her away and call her a mudblood. And she felt that reigning sense of guilt, as if it was her fault again. The infirmary was full of guilt, and the pain of it all over washed her like a giant wave. She herself had told Harry to 'knock Draco off his broom for her,' and she hadn't really meant it. She didn't want him to get really hurt, she had just wanted him to feel her pain for just a second.
"Don't worry," Harry whispered in her ear. "It's just Draco."
"What if he's in pain?" she whispered back, panicked.
Harry was confused by her words. "Of course he'll be in pain, he was hit by a Bludger."
"I-I can't watch him be in pain," she replied, stuttering slightly. "I just can't."
"You've got to," Harry replied, gripping her arm tightly. "You just have to. Sirius always said that you have to face your fears, or they become your life."
Hermione nodded as if she wanted to agree, but her head told her no. "No, no. I don't want to, Harry."
He pulled her toward the bed. Madame Pomfrey heard their footsteps slapping against the cold flagstones. She leaned back and turned to face them with a fierce frown.
"No visitors," Madame Pomfrey snapped, but then recognized Hermione, and she adopted a much more motherly facial expression. "Oh, hello dear. You and Draco were in and out of the infirmary almost weekly last year, weren't you?"
Hermione smiled nervously. "And it looks like he's back. Is he awake?"
"Yes," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "A short visit, and make sure Harry isn't too loud." Madame Pomfrey gave Harry a brief warning look, and then bustled off to deal with a girl who had managed to get her wand stuck in her arm.
Harry dragged Hermione forcefully to the bedside. Draco lay with his eyes closed, but he wasn't sleeping.
"Hello Draco," Harry said, a bit louder than necessary. Madame Pomfrey shot them a cautioning look, and then turned back to pulling a wand out.
"Hermione and I are here to see you," Harry continued, lowering his voice. Draco slowly opened his eyes.
"Hello," he said quietly. "How are you?"
"Not bad," Harry said with a shrug. "Considering that the game still isn't finished, eh?"
Draco smiled, and flinched in pain. Hermione drew back, and bit her lip, wanting to run, but knowing that Harry would never forgive her. Draco looked up at her, and his eyes softened, and he opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something.
"I'll be going now," Harry said quickly, fluffing his hair. "Got to get out of this uniform. I'm all sweaty… a tad bloody." He grinned down at Draco, and scampered out of the room faster than Hermione could say 'wait!'
"I'd better be going as well," she said, turning to leave abruptly, vowing to get back at Harry for making her come.
"No," Draco said forcefully. "Not yet."
"Uh, sure," she said, pulling up a chair. "What is it?"
He seemed a bit nervous now that he had made her stay. "I'll need the homework. I can't move for at least a week."
Hermione laughed bitterly, putting her hands on her hips. She had realized that he was using his injuries as a way to accuse her. "This sounds familiar. So, are you using me again, Draco Malfoy?" She dragged out his name with such hatred and disdain that she surprised even herself.
He recoiled at the sound of his own last name, and Hermione's heart constricted suddenly. "I'm not using you Hermione, you were the one who was using me."
Hermione stood up, tired of his proclamations of her 'betrayal.' "I never used you, I only loved you."
He laughed slightly, which seem to cause him some pain. "Yeah right, you can't love."
She raised her hand to slap him, but then realized that it would be in extremely bad taste to hit an invalid. She shook violently as she spoke, remembering what she had sacrificed for him.
"You bastard. I loved you, and all you did was stab me in the back, by not trusting me and throwing me away once you had gotten your kicks. I went to hell and back for you. And before the game this afternoon, I wished that you would feel the same pain I was, and I got my wish. Now I wish that you had died again."
She turned and walked from the infirmary, and didn't even bother to look over her shoulder. It wasn't until she got back to her room before she realized what she had said. She took the picture from the hearth, and pulled it out of it's frame. The fire crackled maliciously as she dropped it into the red and orange flames. They glowed blue as they ate up the picture of them, and the last thing the two in the picture did before they were consumed by the flames, was kiss. Hermione watched the ash float to the bottom of the grate, and the fire blazed. She was so cold, and the image of herself kissing Draco was burned in her mind, like a brand, red hot and full of agony.
She felt something trickle down her cheek, and she reached to brush her hair back when she realized that she was crying. Crying for what she had lost, and the fact that all of this had started in Paris. The city of love, she thought ironically, fighting to stem the tears as she clutched the window frame to keep from falling over. And all she could see was herself in front of the Arc d'Triomphe, Draco's arm around her, and Luc sitting in the background, his eyes fixed on them as they kissed as if there was no tomorrow.
A/N: Yeah, I've gotten a lot of complaints about how much I hurt Malfoy... And, for those of you who like him, I do too. I just like using injuries as metaphors for their relationship. And don't worry, he won't die again. That takes too much work on Hermione's part, and right now, if he did die, I'm not so sure she'd go back for him. :) Anyhoo, leave a review please!
