And I do believe it's true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes,
But if the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too.
So brown eyes, I'll hold you near,
'Cause you're thee only song I want to hear.
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere
Death Cab For Cutie - Soul Meets Body
--
Hermione couldn't remember exactly what Ron looked like anymore. In her memories, his face was blurry. She couldn't recall exactly where his freckles were, or where his face crinkled when he smiled.
Maybe, she thought, Maybe it's the lack of sleep.
She strained to recall the exact red shade of his hair. How tall he was. How his fingers felt when they traced her skin--
--
"What?"
Hermione opened her eyes. Draco was on top of her, out of breath, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
"You just said something--" he gasped. "-- It sounded like 'Ron.'"
"I didn't say anything."
Draco stopped and rolled off her.
"Fuck!" He turned away from her. "You were thinking about him! You're always thinking about him, aren't you?"
"I wasn't." Hermione wasn't sure why she lied.
Draco snorted.
"You're just going to keep doing this. You're going to rot away in this place, pining for him."
Hermione didn't answer.
"You don't know what your life would be like if he were still alive." He turned around and looked at her.
"You don't even know if you'd still be together."
"We would have been," she said quietly. "You don't know what we had--"
"YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU HAD ANYMORE! All you have left is some romanticized idea of what might have happened in the future!"
"Don't talk to me like that!"
"I'll talk to you however I damn well please!"
Draco stood up and pulled his robes back on.
"You can fool everyone here. You can fool Potter. You can fool The Healers, and maybe you can even fool yourself, but you can't fool me. You're not doing this for Weasley, you're doing this for yourself."
He strode out of her room and headed back towards his own. He heard Hermione get out of bed, pull her robes on too, and run after him. When she came in, he was staring out the window.
"What is this really about?"
She tilted her head to one side and looked down at the floor.
"Malfoy, I asked you a question."
"Granger, I heard your bloody question, and I'm ignoring you."
"Is this about your father?"
Draco rolled his eyes.
"Could we not do this?"
"Do what?"
"Have the conversation you're hoping we will."
"And what conversation would that be?"
"The one where I tell you how much I miss my poor, dead father and become a big blubbering baby so you can feel better about yourself for getting me to open up."
"So, this is about your father."
They stood there in silence, illuminated by the moonlight for a few minutes until Draco finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Go away."
---
Draco hadn't come to see Hermione in weeks. She hadn't gone to see him either.
She told herself it was better this way.
She had almost convinced herself, too.
---
"That's what he did."
Hermione wasn't sleeping. She hadn't heard him come in, either. But when she opened her eyes, he was there, standing over her.
"Voldemort. He.. caused my father's death."
Hermione sat up.
"Voldemort killed your father?"
Draco's eyes were focused somewhere behind Hermione.
"No."
His cold eyes met hers.
"I did."
Hermione was sure her heart stopped beating for a moment.
"What? But--"
"When I couldn't kill Dumbledore, Voldemort told me he had known I wouldn't all along. He..."
Draco took a deep breath, as if he was bracing himself.
"He tortured me for weeks." Draco looked at his feet.
"He tortured my parents."
Hermione was looking up at him sadly, and he couldn't stand the pity in her eyes. He kept on talking, because he needed her to know. What he had done. Who he was.
He needed her to hate him.
"He put me in a room with my father. Then, he gave me a wand. He said... he said, that if I... did, he would let my mother and I go."
Hermione got up and approached him.
"Draco--" she began.
She'd never called him that before. The sound of her saying his first name made him cringe. She reached out a hand to touch his face, and he backed away.
"Don't."
"It wasn't your fault--"
Draco's eyes flashed angrily at her words.
"Don't do that! Don't try to redeem me! I'm not fucking Saint Weasley! I killed my father--"
"What about your mother? You did it to save her too-"
"The hell I did! I did it to save myself, and if I had the chance, I'd do the same thing again!"
--
Hate me. I need you to hate me and loathe me and push me away.
"You're wrong." Hermione took his hand, and he didn't pull away from her that time.
Don't do this.
"We're not who we used to be."
Do anything but this.
"I know you."
Do anything but make me feel.
---