Sin
"I don't want to hurt him," I said softly, turning the cup in my hands as the soft, fragrant smells of tea wisped up to lick my face. "If he can love…"
"It's a weakness on his part," Malfoy cut across me angrily. "So exploit it."
"Malfoy," murmured Tonks warningly.
I looked carefully into Malfoy's grey eyes, trying to peel apart the layers of anger there and find something else. There it was, right where I expected it: fear. His eyes flicked from mine for a moment, then back to them, and he held my gaze, his worry suddenly showing through painfully bright. Draco Malfoy…worried?
"It's a strength, in my opinion," I said quietly. "That means that he won't underestimate it like Voldemort did."
"You must do what you think is right," Lupin interjected softly. "This part has naught to do with the Order. You must decide. Can he be saved?"
I turned from Draco to meet Lupin's gaze – so warm, so weary, so tired. His arm was around Tonks, who was leaning against his shoulder, her eyes closed, obviously enjoying Remus's embrace. My heart panged suddenly, painfully. What must it feel like to be loved that much? It would mean never being alone, I realized. That would be the best emotion…
Suddenly my throat felt very constricted. I wanted to believe that Shane Verloren could be saved. I wanted to believe that he could be turned again. If he could love me, then couldn't he change?
I shook my head. "I'm not sure. He may."
I heard Draco stifle a swear. Lupin nodded. "Whatever you do, think carefully, Hermione," Tonks said in the worried silence that followed, her eyes still closed. Then she stretched and sat up. "Come on, Remus, enough excitement for your old bones tonight."
He made a face at her. "A Marauder's old bones, I'll have you know," he said to her, and she smiled indulgently at him.
"Yes, Moony, a Marauder," she sighed, and slipped her arm through his. "Let's go home."
"I'm off, too," Ron said, standing. He leaned down behind me and hugged me, hard, then let me go. "Take care of yourself, Hermione."
I nodded, and he followed Tonks and Lupin out. I bowed my head, trying so hard not to think, but it was inevitable. I didn't even realize that Draco Malfoy was still sitting there, watching me cry.
-draco's point of view-
I stared at her as her head bowed, her hair tumbling forward onto the table. Then I heard a sniff, and a quickly choked sob, and watched, shocked as a raindrop hit the table, and her hands came up to cover her face. She was crying. Hermione Granger, that proud Mudblood, was crying. My heart, quite suddenly, ached for her; I remember the night she spent in my arms, how small she'd seemed, and the day that I'd kissed her. Then, suddenly, I knew what I wanted to do. Quietly, I pushed back my chair and took out my wand. She didn't stir. I uttered a silent incantation, and the door closed. Listening to my heart thundering, I put my wand down, and I waited.
-hermione's point of view-
I heard the door click shut, but I didn't look up. Well, then, Malfoy had left me alone. That was considerate of him. I felt my elbows hit the table and my soft cries became less restrained. "What am I supposed to do?" I whispered aloud, through my tears, through my pain.
Then, suddenly, I felt my chair being moved back, and someone pulled me to my feet, gently, carefully. I kept my head bowed, looking away, unable to stifle my cries. A familiar voice stumbled over the name that was so very unfamiliar to it.
"Hermione."
I looked up, glaring into Draco Malfoy's grey eyes. "Let me go," I said fiercely, trying to tug out of his grip. He looked uncertain, but determined. I yanked my right hand out of his grip and pulled out my wand, training it on him, but he pulled it from me forcefully and laid it on the table.
"No," he said quietly, looking back into my eyes. I realized how close we were, and that made me want to cry even harder; his hand rose to my face and pushed my hair back, and I was shocked at how gentle he was. "I'm not going to let you go."
We glared into one another's eyes, each as stubborn as the other, but I knew I was weakening, knew that I couldn't keep this up, this haughty indifference, for much longer. "Go away," I said, my voice low and strained. "Leave me alone."
"No," he said, and his grip on my arms tightened. "I won't."
His hand slid down to mine, and he squeezed it reassuringly before letting both of his hands wrap around my waist and pull me close to him, so close that I had no choice but to turn my head and let my cheek rest against his chest. Damn him, he was strong. A sniff escaped me, and I nearly swore, angrily shoving away my tears, but his hand reached up and ran through my hair, and he murmured, "Just cry, Hermione."
Suddenly, nothing else mattered. A storm raged over me, and a cry of grief escaped my lips, and then everything came rushing out – all of my pain found a place in my tears, and I sobbed out my grief as Draco pulled me closer, his hand cradling my head against his chest, his arm holding me tight against him, battling out the storm with him. I felt myself going under the waves and didn't even both fighting; I let my grief consume me completely, crying desperately into a night where no one could hear, except for the man holding me tight, the man who had, somehow, made things right.
"It's all going to turn out, Hermione," he whispered into my hair. "You'll see."
"Why are you doing this?" I choked out through my tears. "You hate me. I'm just a Mudblood to you. We're different, Draco."
He held me a bit tighter. "No," he said softly. "You're human. Just like me."
We stood there for what could have been eternity as he nursed my sobs to soft tears, and then to shaking, and then to stillness; the storm, suddenly, was over, and all I knew anymore was the comfort of his arms, holding me against him, as the room grew dark and fell still around us. My breath didn't come ragged anymore, but still, he didn't let me go. Somewhere deep in my heart, I hoped that he never would.