We rode the Knight bus back to Hogsmeade. I stared out the window, watching the rain splat against it. I wondered why they were sending Hermione back to Hogwarts so soon- there was no proof that she was truly well, or that the illness would not suddenly return. The thought that plagued me even more, however, was the horrible headache I had suddenly gained and the intense, throbbing pain in my hands. What was wrong with me?
We reached Hogsmeade with no conversation at all, and as Dumbledore and McGonagall tried to lead me into a carriage, I pushed them off.
"I'll walk back," I stated, simply, and the finality in my tone did not leave room for objections. Dumbledore started to speak, but McGonagall shot him a withering look, and they both sighed. They got into the carriage and it sped away, leaving me to my dark thoughts.
What would happen now? Now that Hermione was back at Hogwarts? Would she speak again? Would she tell Potter and the Weasley off or would they become best friends again? Would she even...
No, I thought. I am never to be part of her life. The rain soaked through my robes, but I barely noticed. I shrugged them off of my shoulders, folding them up and casting a charm on them before shoving them into my empty bag. I hadn't even realized I'd brought the bag with me. I tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans, walking slowly. The sky was a deep gray. The weather seemed to mirror my unhappy disposition. I noticed a couple of St. Mungo's workers flying the opposite direction of me. They nodded at me, in silent greeting.
She was already back. My pace did not speed up, if anything, it slowed. She was already back. I realized, suddenly, that I wanted nothing more than to hug her when I saw her, but I knew she would want nothing to do with me. An ominous crack of lightning, followed by thunder so loud it made me shudder, flashed across the sky, illuminating Hogwarts in the distance. Home, I thought forlornly. It was only near December, and I was already getting graduation jitters. What was I going to do? My father had died in the war, I had seen to it myself. Pushing this thought from my head, I tried to remember where my mother had gone. The minute the war had ended, she had fled from the Manor, leaving nothing behind for me. She had written me a letter telling me she was sorry, but I knew, somehow, that it was just a formality. If there had not been money that Father had hidden from her, I would've had nothing after graduation.
But I still had nothing... Nothing important. I reached the castle, and I was thoroughly waterlogged. I cast a quick drying spell as I entered the entrance hall, and slipped my robe back on. I checked my watch and saw that dinner was being served. I sighed, not wanting to see what was happening in there, but my stomach rumbled, loud enough to almost rival the thunder from outside. I entered the Great Hall cautiously, but no one even looked up at me. They were all staring at Hermione, who was sitting quietly at the end of the Gryffindor table, picking at a chicken leg. They watched her as though she were some kind of disease, as though she might be contagious. I resisted the urge to scream at them, and sat down at the table. As I was spooning some mashed potatoes onto my plate, Potter decided it was time to speak with Hermione. He sat down across from her, but she did not lift her head. I groaned. This was not going to end well.
"Well, well, well. Stupid mudblood bint decides to show her face yet again." She did not look up, and his face flushed with anger at being ignored. "When I am talking to you, mudblood," he hissed, "you will pay attention!" Everyone was stunned into silence, and the teachers made no move to get up and help. "Listen to me!" he shouted, before slapping her across the face. Angry red fingerprints appeared on her cheek, and I leaped from my seat. No one noticed. She placed her fork softly beside her plate, before taking her bag and exiting the Great Hall without meeting anyone's eyes. I followed, not amazed at the sudden burst of speech in the room.
"Hermione!" I called, jogging to catch up with her. She kept walking. "Did he hurt you?" She didn't answer. "Granger?" She said nothing, just kept walking as usual. We reached the portrait, which asked for a password, but she did not make a move to say it, nor did she look at me. She simply stood there, studying the portrait.
"So, that's it?" I asked her, furious. "You're just going to go back to the way you were, and probably end up in St. Mungo's again? You're going to chain yourself in your cage again, after I fought so hard to free you!" I struck a nerve, apparently, as she wheeled around to face me. Her eyes were full with tears, and the mark Potter had made was prominent against the pale color of her face.
"You don't want to know what happened, Malfoy, you don't! No one does! So don't even pretend like you do!" she shouted, her voice still scratchy from not being used.
"Is that what you think, Granger?" I growled. "Well, think again! I've done nothing but try to help you for nearly three months, Hermione! Nothing! I should've been focusing on my grades so that I could get into University, but instead I was focused on helping you! I wanted YOU to graduate because I knew you wanted to go away to University! I broke Potter's jaw because he hurt you, 'Mione! And you think I don't care?"
"Of course you don't care, you're Malfoy! You're a heartless creature! It won't matter to you that I never fought because I was kidnapped by that beast and raped, Malfoy, raped! He got me pregnant and MADE me deliver that damned baby! And it's bad enough that it happened, but now I blame myself for Ron's-" But her eyes grew wide at something behind me and she shouted the password at the portrait, which swung open and then shut too quickly for me to comprehend as she scurried away. I turned around slowly, almost afraid of what was behind me.
Potter was standing there, his mouth wide open and his eyes as round as dinner plates.
"I never... I never..." he stuttered, his mouth opening and shutting rapidly with the words he couldn't say.
"You never thought that there was a reason she didn't fight, except that she was scared, eh, Potter?" He nodded. "Why, Potter? What possessed you to hate her, to cause her so much misery?" His eyes were suddenly filled with such a pain as he sank to the floor, with his back against the wall, that I felt bad for bringing it up, but he cut me off before I could apologize.
"She never grieved, Malfoy. She never showed any sign at all the Ron's death even phased her after the war. Ron loved her so much, and it was killing me that she didn't even seem to care that he was gone. It broke my heart when she didn't show up at Ron's funeral, Malfoy. She wasn't even there. We prolonged the burial, in case she was late for some reason, but she never showed. I guess I started to blame her for his death that very day. I let the pain build up inside me for so long that it twisted and burned, and I had to let it out. I know it was horrible, what I did to her, but I couldn't see it. I couldn't see past the image of Ron staring at her so longingly at headquarters, past Ron telling me that after the war was over, he was going to finally ask her to be his. And when we returned to school, she didn't say a word to me, and I just let it out. I wanted so badly to blame someone for Ron's death, and she was the perfect candidate. He loved her, dammit, and she didn't care, or so it seemed." Silent tears poured down his face, and I was at a loss for what to do. How do you comfort the Boy-Who-Lived-Only-To-Lose-Everything? "It was wrong," he whispered. "What I did to her..." A rather large sob from the portrait, which I suddenly noticed was cracked open, ever so slightly, alerted us to Hermione's presence.
"Hermione?" Harry whispered, and a small, black-haired figure burst into his arms, sobs shaking her small form horribly.
"Harry, I'm so sorry," she muttered, against his chest. "I never meant for Ron to die, I feel so horrible"
"It's not your fault, Herm, really. I'm sorry for being so terrible, I never meant any of it."
"I couldn't go to his funeral," she sobbed. "I felt so guilty for his death that I couldn't bear to see him buried in the ground. I couldn't bear for it to end this way..."
"Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry. It's not your fault." They sat there, crying silently, for the longest time. Standing there, I felt awkward. A redheaded figure came out from behind a statue, crying as well. So they had all heard everything.
"Hermione.." Ginny whispered, her voice cracking. "I apologize for everything... I never meant to... to... B-but I understand if you don't forgive me, I mean, if I was you, I wouldn't forgive me, or I wouldn't forgive you, or.. or... Oh, I'm sorry!" she cried, hugging Hermione fiercely.
"I understand," she said, smiling softly at the girl.
"Thank you, Draco," Harry said over the girls' heads, and it startled me so much that he'd used my given name that for a moment, I didn't recognize that he'd spoken to me.
"That's what I'm here for," I said, my tone suddenly bitter. There was a heaviness in my heart, and as the sudden smash of thunder rumbled through the halls, I left the three to reminisce alone. I slammed the portrait as I entered the common room, and figured none of them would even look up or notice. I threw my bag onto the Slytherin couch, trying desperately to think of a way to get rid of these feelings, these unexplicable feelings that were overwhelming me.
I did not want to be in love with Hermione Granger any longer. My mission was complete. We'd found what happened, and why, and the golden Trio, though the Weasley in place had changed, had been restored.
I was done, I had freed her at last.
So why did I feel so terribly? I wondered, as I collapsed onto my bed. I watched the rain pour outside, through my balcony door. The sky had changed from a deep gray color to nearly black. It was ominous and foreboding, but I paid it no attention. I looked up at my ceiling, sighing, as I took off my shoes. I slid under the covers, with my clothes still on, and fell into a fitful sleep, with her words still ringing in my head.
"Of course you don't care, you're Malfoy! You're a heartless creature!"
A heartless creature indeed.
A/N: Gosh, I am SO sorry, guys! It took, like, forever for this chapter to get written. My muses abandoned me... I hope you like it! This should answer a lot of your questions! Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon!
Until next time!