Chapter 7


10:33pm

The corridors were quiet for a Saturday night, in Draco's opinion. There was no stupid second or third years dallying about, no students out of their respective common rooms and that pleased him to no end. A simple night of patrols for him. He wasn't supposed to be in for tonight, but the stupid 6th year prefect who he couldn't remember the name of decided to call sick, so he had to take over. Unbelievable, he thought as he walked.

The halls were barely lit, only the torches on the walls lighting his route through the castle. The cool air swept through the long corridors, making the castle colder and more sinister, something he hadn't really associated with Hogwarts until 6th year. The weight of the unseen ghosts that lingered on the grounds still made him pause, the guilt rebuilding with him wondering why he was still able to walk the halls of this sacred school, a Death Eater, whereas innocent, good, people lost their lives on the very stone that he walked on.

The only sound heard was the soft tap, tap, tap of his shoes on the concrete as he walked, only his thoughts and breath keeping him company. His robes billowed behind him acting as a barrier to the tormented souls and voices he heard in his head. The dark storm clouds were forming in the sky, blocking the moon of its light. The world was still as he passed by, searching the grounds for any misbehaving students.

Can this hurry the fuck up? There's no one out of their common room-

His thoughts were abruptly stopped with the sound. A sound he couldn't quite place but knew was there. He quickened his steps, following the noise as it became louder with each twist and turn that he took to find the person. The closer he made it, the more he could figure what the sound was; someone was crying, and not just crying, sobbing. Full guttural sobs that he had experienced before (not that he would admit that to anybody). The noise reverberated off the stone walls as he continued to speed to the occupant of the bone chilling noise. Just as he was beginning to become tormented with the ongoing sobs, he spotted a figure on the opposite end of the fifth floor corridor, hunched over on the floor.

The girl, he guessed, was in the foetal position, so he wasn't able to see her face. She was dressed in muggle attire, with her hair piled on her head, her body shaking and convulsing on the stone floor. As he approached her, he began to make out more of her, her hair turned into unruly curls and a prominent amount of blood was coming from something on her left forearm. The fabric of her shirt was ripped making him able to read the wound clearly. Mudblood. He knew instantly who the person was. "Granger!" He hurried his steps until he was in front of her.

She looked to be in a right state.

No shit idiot, his thoughts berated him as he thought what to do. Hermione Granger, the Golden Girl and Brightest Witch of Her Age, was huddled on the ground, cowering in a corner, and it stirred something in him; feelings he hadn't felt in a long time. I need to do something, his brain spurred him on as he crouched in front of her, assessing her state. Draco hesitated for a second, before he hesitantly touched her arm. She flinched away from his touch, as if burned by him, so he tried a different tactic.

"Granger? Granger, can you hear me?"His voice was hushed, only a mere whisper so as not to scare her. "Breathe Granger, it's alright." He wasn't used to being this soft around people, always seeing it as a weakness as his father would say to him, but Draco didn't know what came over him as he sat on the floor, opposite her. He grabbed her hands from her face, placing them on his chest as he sat. Draco sat there with her for several moments, slowly breathing so she could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest. The feeling of Granger's hands on him wasn't the most unpleasant thing in the world to him, but he wasn't thrilled by it; however, a small part of him was whispering to don't stop until she's okay; And that's what he was going to do.

Time ticked by slowly, her hands lying limply on his chest, silence the only thing that sat between them as she cried, broken sobs being the only noise in the empty corridor. After what felt like hours, her amber eyes flicked to his, connecting with his eyes and the sight nearly broke something within him. The eyes of a strong-headed, confident woman were drained of the life that she had. Dull brown replaced the amber, her face gone of the joy she previously exuded.

It made Draco feel ill.

"Granger?" He asked hesitantly, unsure if she would respond.

"Malfoy." She replied, her voice hoarse from the sobbing. The tear tracks had taken away her makeup, showing the redness of her face. She had more colour in her face now than what she had had all term. Her eyes were glossing over by the second, on the verge of tears again when she asked: "Help me. Please." Her voice broke as she spoke. Her face held a dazed look, as if she didn't know what was happening, but he didn't stop to analyse it.

"Okay." He replied, before she clung to him, her boney arms wrapping around his neck as she collapsed in exhaustion, the welled up tears overflowing. He sat still for a moment before moving, lifting her into his arms and huddling her to his chest as he set off down the hallway. Her body was tiny compared to him, frail and delicate, nothing like the Granger he usually saw.

Draco's steps were quick as he moved, trying to get back to the 8th year dorms swiftly, the patrol left behind.


11:02pm

The pillow by her cheek was warm and soft as she stirred. She couldn't remember falling asleep in her bed. The last thing she remembered was the- oh the party.

The events of the party came back in flashes: the drinking, the dancing, the cake and then…nothing. Hermione's mind was blank after a certain point, not remembering what had happened after she blew out her birthday candles. She could hear Ginny's voice in her head, her words incoherent as she stirred back to consciousness. She tried to remember anything else but it was all a blur.

As she shifted more to get comfortable, Hermione felt a draft on her head. Abruptly it stopped confusing her. Is there a vent above me? She thought as she woke up. The smell of citrus and parchment enveloped her, comforting her more, but also confusing her further. Her eyes flicked up to see her surroundings, doing a double take when she spotted Malfoy looking at her. Her body stilled as they stared at each other, neither of them moving as their eyes stayed locked.

Her head filled with questions waiting to ask, but as her mouth opened, nothing came out. Not a single sound uttered as they continued to stare, analysing the other. Hermione surveyed her surroundings, noting that they were in the confines of the 8th year common room, the fire burning bright at the late hour of the day. There was an eerie silence to the space, not a sign of life in the whole room. No shuffling from the dorms above, no snoring or late night chitchats. Just the silent atmosphere that was around them; And it unnerved her.

She moved away from Malfoy creating distance between them by moving to the other side of the couch, her eyes still taking in the common room. As she moved away, she failed to notice the disappointed look in his eyes. The orange lighting from the fire gave the space a warm glow, adding to the trepidation creeping in her slowly, making her wonder how long she had been there, unconscious and with Malfoy of all people.

There was a cup of something on the coffee table in front of them, steaming as if it was freshly prepared. She continued to eye the cup, not moving to retrieve it. "It's tea, Granger. Not poison." The low baritone voice of Malfoy sounded from beside her, causing her gaze to shift to him, analysing his movements.

Hermione felt wary about him, or anyone for that matter and she didn't know why. He moved from his spot on the sofa, causing her to unknowingly flinch, making him pause. "I'm not going to come near you, so you can relax." His words were hushed, but they confused her wondering why he was explaining his actions.

"Why are you explaining yourself?" Hermione asked abruptly, her throat sore from a reason she didn't know. His eyebrows knitted in confusion, before his face relaxed as if in understanding. Hermione didn't understand what was happening, why was he acting like this?

"Do you not remember anything from earlier?" His voice was laced with shock, his eyes widening in realisation as she shook her head, not understanding his reaction. Malfoy hesitated for a moment, as if warring with himself before he spoke. "I found you in the fifth floor corridor, having a panic attack."

"What?" Hermione's eyes widened as he continued. Her mind whirled as Malfoy began to explain.

"You were curled up on the floor, sobbing and not knowing where you were." He continued to explain the events of the night, not realising her memory was beginning to come back. The fear, the panic, the running and the flashbacks all returning, jogging her memories. Hermione sat in silence with her brain going haywire as the night replayed itself. "Granger?" Malfoy's voice was muffled, as if she were underwater drowning as she relived the terror all over again.

Two hands were on her arms, grounding her and bringing her back to the present. Her eyes opened to see him, sitting there comforting her as she had a panic attack, it was messing with her head. What was happening to her? Was she that despondent with everything? Sure she had been very subdued and reserved since returning to Hogwarts and had barely spoken to anybody besides her immediate friends but that's not too bad, right? Right?!

Had she been that out of it that she hadn't realised that Malfoy was different?

His hands suddenly left her, as if burned that he had touched her. He averted his eyes, looking anywhere but at her. "I just brought you back here." He finished quietly, averting his eyes from her, looking around the common room. Cracking logs was the sound that permeated the room, their breathing disturbing the tense air between them. Why was that always there? Tense and quiet silences where so many words were left unsaid. They kept following her everywhere, pushing their way into every conversation.

"How did you find me anyway?" Hermione questioned, her voice hoarse from the sobbing. "Why were you there?" As the words left her mouth, she knew they were the wrong words to say. Malfoy's expression shut down, his openness and concern disappearing, turning into a cold mask of indifference. His steel eyes turned to her, all warmness they once exuded gone and the difference unnerved her.

"I was out on patrol, filling in for a prefect and found you so that's why." He replied, voice devoid of emotion. Malfoy suddenly got up, striding across the small living room heading to the boy's staircase, not looking back at her as he left. She tried to think of a response each second ticking away as her head raced trying to find the words.

"Wait!" She said, her voice echoing in the empty space. His steps faltered, stopping him on the stairs. He didn't turn towards her, silently waiting for her to speak. "I just… I-um…" She stuttered, at a loss for words. Malfoy turned, eyebrows raised still waiting. "I- thank you. For helping, I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't." Hermione spoke timidly, her words filling the space between. Malfoy's eyes softened, the tension slowly disappearing from his frame.

"Goodnight, Granger." He replied, turning to continue up the stairs.

"Goodnight, Malfoy."

When she got to her room, she failed to notice the note on her bedside table.


The following day was a whirlwind for Hermione, dodging the Gryffindors, specifically Ginny, between ignoring the knocks on the door and avoiding the Great Hall helped achieve that. So now she sat in the 8th Year common room, hiding from her friends. Crookshanks lay on her lap as she read one of her new books, purring in contentment.

The peace of the space was comforting to her, after the tumultuous disaster the night before, it was the thing she needed. With a hot cup of chamomile tea, her comfy jumper and her cat nothing could ruin her mood. The murmurs of the other students could be heard above her, laughter and conversations from the dorms heard.

Since last night, her brain continued to think about the disaster party. She had told Ginny that didn't want a party and she didn't listen? Could all the trouble have been avoided if the party didn't happen? Was it the alcohol? She had drunk quite a lot the night before. To numb the pain, her thoughts whispered to her, but she chose to ignore it. Why did Ginny not listen to her?

Then there was the whole Malfoy problem.

Why had he helped her? Sure, they had made a truce with each other, but did that consist of them being friends? He had looked genuinely concerned for her wellbeing but she was probably seeing things. Draco Malfoy would never be concerned for me.

Two hands were on her shoulders, startling her out of her head. Her eyes flicked up to see Theo there, a smug look on face. "Daydreaming were we?"

"Oh shut up Theo, I was thinking." She replied as he sat down. Hermione hadn't realised that he had brought company. Daphne sat next to her on the couch, Theo and Blaise occupying the remaining couch, with Malfoy in the armchair opposite her. "Can I help you?" She queried, shifting uncomfortably as they all stared at her.

"Well we saw you sitting and thought we would keep you company." The blonde Slytherin told her as she settled into the couch. "And Theo speaks so highly of you-"

"The only bloody thing he talks about when he's not snogging you." Blaise interjected with a roll of his eyes.

"-and I wanted to introduce myself." Daphne finished as she offered her hand. "Daphne Greengrass, nice to meet you."

"Likewise, but I know who you are, Daphne." Hermione told her as they shook hands. There was a guilty look in her eyes, making her puzzled.

"I wanted to apologise to you. I'm sorry for the way we treated you when we were younger. I know I wasn't really involved but I was part of the people who aided in it and I'm really sorry."

Hermione sat there stunned. Well she wasn't expecting that. She continued to sit there staring at the girl, shocked, while Daphne's eyes held the guilt that she had just shown her making the decision for her. "I-I forgive you Daphne and thank you." Before she had finished her sentence, she was wrapped in 2 slender arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Thank you." The witch replied, her gratitude evident in her voice. The 3 Slytherins began to talk, Daphne bringing her into the conversation at any moment possible, warming something in her chest that she hadn't felt in a while.

Time passed by the group of 4, the tension between the odd group slowly dissipating as they talked. Hermione slowly engaged when necessary, feeling heard for the first time since returning to school. Her friends had all been acting normal, as if they had disregarded the events in May. All the pain and torment that had happened in this very building still made the hairs on her stand on end, fearing a breakdown at any moment of the day.

The invisible claw of darkness constantly hovered behind her, waiting for the perfect time to take her under its spell;and it scared Hermione.

Draco and Blaise were in a heated debate about the Quidditch Season this year being interrupted by the final Slytherin 8th Year entering the common room, her perfectly sleek bob swaying as she strode into the room, spotting her fellow housemates sitting with her. "Has hell frozen over or something?"

"Very funny Pans. You're a true comedian." Theo sarcastically replied, slow clapping as she walked towards them. A hand collided with his head making him yelp, "Ow! Draco what the fuck!"

"Fucking idiot." Malfoy drawled, a look of annoyance on his face.

"Thank you Draco for that." Pansy replied, sitting in the remaining armchair. "Oh Granger, Weaslette's outside asking for you."

"What?"

"Something about last night." She spoke, examining her nails.

Hermione stood from the couch , straightening her robes as she walked to the portrait hole. As the door opened, Ginny stood there with an indescribable look on her face. Before a single word had even left her mouth, Ginny spoke. "Why are you avoiding me?" Her tone was friendly, but she had an underlying anger hidden in her words. She stood defensively, arms folded across her chest with a rage in her eyes. "Well?"

"I thought you could understand why I was, after yesterday."

"What? After you ran out of the party that I spent 2 weeks preparing?" Her tone was heated, rising anger in her voice.

"Ginny, I had a panic attack and panicked and left." Hermione replied, her tone calm compared to her friend. "I wasn't going to ruin everyone else's fun by stressing-"

"And you didn't even say thank you to me. I even brought Harry and Ron up to see you. Do you know how many hoops I had to jump through for that?!" Her voice resonated in the corridor, each word getting louder as she continued.

"I didn't ask you to do that Gin and I didn't want a party as I had told you numerous times." The anger was beginning to build with each word Ginny uttered, trying to keep it in as best she could.

"But you've been a complete mopar and broken since we came back and thought this would fix you!" Ginny's words made her pause. Fix her? Fix her?! Seriously?!

"I can't believe you Gin. Are you being serious?" Hermione asked, waiting for a response. Her heart hurt when she didn't receive one, she continued, "You know what, don't talk to me until you realise what you've just said to me and how selfish you're being." Hermione went back inside, not listening to see if Ginny answered.

The common room was quiet when she returned, most likely hearing what was said in the quick heated argument with the fiery redhead. She returned to her seat pondering the words Ginny had said. Fix her, Moper, broken. They echoed in her head taunting her and pulling the claw closer to her head. The voices of her classmates were drowned out as the words continued to bounce around in her mind.

Neville walked into the common room, squishing in beside and throwing an arm around her, pulling her into his side. "You okay?" He whispered. She nodded, not uttering a word.

"Longbottom, is that a hickey on your neck?" Blaise asked, making every pair of eyes turn to the blushing Gryffindor. They all failed to notice the blushing Slytherin who was painting her nails black.