Chapter 21: Disappointment

Hermione waited, poised on the brink of disaster, her wand in one hand and the dagger in her other. The person in the room made some sort of noise, a grunting sound. A light flared, and she had to blink rapidly to dispel the flash from her sight.

The person Hermione looked upon now hardly looked human. His clothes were torn in places, crumpled, and dirt-stained. There was a large bloody spot on the right side (his right, not hers), and his arm looked as if it had been mangled, crusted with dried blood as it was. His face was haggard, his eyes gaunt and his lips cracked dangerously. He looked sickly pale and had deep, dark circles under his eyes. Two trails in the dirt on his face marked his tears, and his hair hung ragged and lank and unwashed around him.

She saw pain in his eyes just before she registered who she was looking at. Her face must have changed in recognition, because his softened in return. She stepped awkwardly closer to him, unsure of what would be appropriate to say. "You've been crying," Hermione heard herself say, and would have kicked herself for so blunt a comment.

But Draco—her Draco—merely shrugged. "You've been hurt," he said, his voice both hoarse and thick. She looked down at her chest and saw what she had known to be true. The dagger, upon pulling it out so carelessly, had slit her from navel to collarbone, and the blood showed in a blotchy red stripe down her white shirt. "Oh," she muttered, looking up at him. A strand of her shortened hair fell over her cheek.

He held out his right arm to her, and she stepped carefully into his embrace. "Nox," he murmured thickly, and promptly dropped his wand to the ground so that he could hold her properly.

"I've missed you," Hermione whimpered. She could practically feel her walls breaking down, her resolves dissipating into thin air. I will not cry, she had told herself. But now it was hard not to, and she blinked the hotness from her eyes. "It's been awful here," she whispered, in control now, but only by a small margin.

Draco swayed, and she stepped back. "Are you all right?" she asked worriedly. The blood staining his shirt stood out even in the dark, and she opened her mouth to say something about it.

"I just…" he croaked, "I just need to…sleep. I haven't slept…in over three…days," Draco said slowly, as if it was taking effort to talk. Deeply unsatisfied with their reunion, Hermione pushed her doubts away and helped him over to a bed. He could not even take off his shoes, so she undressed him down to his pants and pushed him into bed, taking off her own shoes and curling up on his left.

Hermione yawned, feeling her own exhaustion catching up to her. She leaned up to say goodnight, and found he was asleep on his back already. With a soft frown, she pulled herself onto her side and lay down next to him. Even with Draco there now, it was quite a task to get to sleep.

Sometime during the night, Hermione woke up to find she was being shifted. Immediately she sat bolt upright, her wand all ready in her hand. Moonlight sifted in through the window/balcony and glinted off of Draco's eyes where he was propped on an elbow beside her. Relaxing, she tucked her wand under her pillow again and lay back down. "Are you all right?" she whispered.

"Well enough," Draco whispered back. His voice rasped in the darkness, and Hermione shivered. "I was moving you so I could sleep on my side," he told her.

"Oh." She relaxed and closed her eyes again, but something felt wrong. He didn't have his arm around her. Feeling this loss more deeply than she should, she settled uncomfortably next to him. As if reading her thoughts, he carefully, even hesitantly, wrapped his arm around her. Hermione held back a sigh of relief and entwined her fingers with his.

They slept.


Frosty sunlight spilled into the room from the open balcony, and Hermione would have shivered if Draco wasn't beside her and the bed wasn't so warm because of their joint body heat. Her stomach growled a warning that she had better eat, or else…, and her lips turned upward at the empty threat. But she slipped from the bed anyway, shivering suddenly. Judging by the sunlight, they had missed breakfast. At least it's a Saturday, Hermione thought.

She pulled on a robe, which effectively covered the wrinkled clothing she'd slept in and the long bloodstain on her shirt. With a wince at her tousled and fluffy hair, she gripped her wand tightly and left the room. Most students were in their common rooms or outside, despite the chill weather. Hermione herself was on guard all the way down to the kitchens, where she got a large jug of water and a large plate of warm food. Draco would probably be hungry too, when he woke up.

So she shrunk the water and put it in her pocket, carefully balancing the food on one hand and holding her wand in the other. It was by pure luck that she ran into Orlando, and his presence alone warded off any students wishing bad luck upon her. They had traveled in silence up to the hall where her destination was before he turned to her and said, "Ginny is worried about you."

"Draco is back now," Hermione informed him with a small, tired grin before she turned around and continued down the hall, as if that explained everything.

In a way, it did. Orlando stared after her and then shook his head in wonderment, a half-smile lighting his features. He would certainly have good news for Ginny when she woke.

The door clicked shut behind her, and Draco rasped something in his sleep, making Hermione jump. She set the food on the table and returned the water to its normal size. Despite being ravenous, she found she was unable to eat much, and so ate little. Looking upon the leftover food in dismay, she let it be and hoped Draco would eat more of it.

Hermione was crawling back into bed to snuggle beside Draco when his eyes flicked open. He sat up sharply, accidentally elbowing her in the ribs. She winced, and scooted away from him a bit. "Is…" he said quietly, and the longing in that single word made the hair on her arms stand up. "Is it real?" he asked, as if saying no would kill him.

"Is what real?" Hermione asked, bewildered. Draco's grey eyes flashed around the room, finally landing on the food on the table.

"Food," he whined hopelessly, crawling over her in his haste to get to it. When finally there, he poked at it hesitantly, then took a bite of eggs. Tears shone in his eyes as he slowly took another bite, then another. Finally he seized the jug of water and, heedless of cups, began to drink it straight from the container.

Hermione, confused, could only look on. "What happened to you?" she whispered. He did not hear her and only ate on. "My poor Draco." She settled herself cross-legged on the bed, waiting.

Draco worked himself out of his frenzied eating and sat back, staring at the plate. It seemed that, as Hermione had found, though starving, he could not eat as much as he wished to. She coughed slightly, drawing his attention to her. Memories shimmered painfully and dangerously behind his eyes and he rose to his feet and came back to her. He crawled under the blankets and she followed suit.

"I've missed you too," he told her in response to her own words of the night before. Her heart gave a hopeful flutter in her chest, and she quelled it. It would not be a good thing to get the wrong idea, not just yet. Draco curled up at her side, leaning on his left arm. His right arm, the dried blood flaking off, wrapped itself around her and she shivered.

Draco leaned down and scrutinized her carefully, brow furrowed in thought. With a sigh, he lowered himself down onto the bed again.

"I love you," she whispered. He smiled gently and closed his eyes. After a while, she said, "What happened?" Draco didn't answer, and when she looked, he was already asleep again. Hermione yawned in agreement and cuddled closer. Neither of them had gotten much sleep in their time apart.

The next time Hermione woke up, it was to find an empty space next to her. She sat up in confusion, and winced as the cut along her torso scrunched up painfully. Rubbing the slit absentmindedly, she stood and wandered over to the plate of food, which had been significantly demolished since the morning. Hermione finished off the dish and had a small glass of water as well.

Abruptly there was a mirror to her side. She shook her head that the room had read her thoughts almost before she'd thought them. Stepping up to it, she stripped off her shirt to see how bad the cut was. It wasn't deep, but was long and would certainly leave a scar. She sighed and replaced her shirt quickly as she heard the door opening.

"Draco," she breathed, relieved. She looked him up and down. He had on new clothes, his hair was washed, and his cheeks had some color in them. Even the gaunt look had diminished, now merely hovering like a shadow over his face. Draco smiled weakly at her, and she grinned back before catching a glimpse of her own appearance in the mirror.

"I look awful," she muttered, horrified.

Somewhere to her side, Draco snorted. "You look fine," he reassured her.

"Yeah, almost as fine as you looked before," she snapped, not knowing why. The smile dropped from his face and instead a scowl replaced it. "Oh, I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't mean…that is…" She stopped and looked in the mirror again. "Look at me! I look awful! My hair is fluffy and tangled, not straight like it was before I went out into the rain, and my shirt is bloody all down the front. I have neither slept nor eaten much since you've been gone, so I look thin and tired. My clothes are crumpled because I haven't changed them in two days, and I have a huge cut from my belly to my throat! You can't tell me I look fine," she said lamely.

"Okay. Well you saw me without having eaten, drank, or slept for almost four days, and without changing my clothes for ten, even though I walked through the forest and swam in the sea in them." He looked at her pointedly. "We'll call it even."

"What happened to you?" Hermione asked, horrified.

His eyes looked at her, and in the half-light were strangely expressive. The look he centered on her made her feel as if she'd just been dumped into the Hogwarts lake, and Hermione struggled to keep their eyes locked, wavering under his look. Draco's lips pursed, in pain or in anger she did not know, as his eyes abruptly froze over. She was left staring beseechingly at the blonde, who simply took off his shirt and shoes and crawled into bed again.

Hermione finished her water and came over to the bed, climbing in next to Draco. This time, though he lay down on his side next to her, he did not wrap a comforting arm around her. Feeling compelled to say something, she murmured, "Draco?" He did not answer, and his eyes were closed but for some reason she didn't not think he was yet asleep. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, and closed her own eyes too.

Sleep did not come for Hermione until much later.


Ginny's eyes opened blearily and shut again. She murmured something and rolled over onto her side. The bed was cold there, and she turned back to the warmth of her former position. But wait a minute…her bed was never cold, it wasn't big enough for her to leave cold spots….

She shot up in bed, blinking sleep from her eyes rapidly. Deep green curtains and black accents offset cream-colored walls. Odd light filtered in from the windows, and Ginny reached for a wand that turned out to be absent. Becoming increasingly frightened, she swung her legs over the tall edge of the bed and slid down. She was still in her clothing, but that offered her little relief.

The rest of the room was filled with simple furniture. There were not many outstanding features, but on the dresser were several picture frames. After opening the curtains, she went to examine them. "Oh," she murmured, upon recognizing a few of them. "Then this must be…"

A door creaked open, and she turned hastily. There was no time to hide the guilty look on her face. But the man in the doorway simply smiled indulgently at her, and she grinned back in answer. "Orlando," she stated.

"Ginny," he responded back. "Um…I—"

"What am I doing in your room?" she asked suspiciously.

Orlando looked sheepish. "You fell asleep on the couch, and I moved you in here. Don't worry," he added quickly, "I slept on the couch instead. Nothing…"

"I know," Ginny said. She should have known Orlando would be too worried about losing his job to sleep with her, even in a completely chaste fashion.

"Anyway, I ran into Hermione. She said that Draco was back, if that helps you relax any." Her relieved smile must have answered him, but before she could verbalize such, her stomach gave a large growl. Orlando laughed, seeing her blush, and added, "There's some food in the other room."

Ginny headed out into the front room and immediately followed the delicious smells. Orlando hung back, but she did not notice amidst the food.

The young professor frowned in thought, remembering the look in Hermione's eyes when she had gravely told him that Draco was back. The small grin after had not been able to disguise the worry and dismay in her eyes. He doubted if she had even known what showed there.

With a small frown, Orlando started into the kitchen, where he prepared tea for Ginny and himself. Should I tell her? Gin was happy to know that Draco was back, but did not know that Hermione did not seem quite so happy. But if I tell her that adds another burden to her shoulders. If I don't, she'll find out soon enough….

A sigh escaped his lips, and he added sugar to one cup of tea, leaving his own bitter, still debating with himself. "Gin…" he began, setting down her tea in front of her. "I think…I think you should know something. When…" Orlando paused, sipping his tea, searching for a way to phrase this. He wrinkled his nose at the sweet taste of the tea and traded mugs with Ginny.

"Hermione didn't look very happy when she told me that Draco was back. Considering that we don't even know where he was, it's highly possible that he's changed. She looked…worried," Orlando said, giving the young girl across from him a cautious look.

"I tell you only so that you are not surprised if you see her. I may have just been imagining the look, it may be that nothing is wrong at all. But…" He stopped there, having said too much. Just don't get your hopes up, he finished in his head.

Ginny's brow was furrowed softly and she looked down. "I'm sorry," Orlando supplied quietly.

When she looked up at him, her face was determined. "Changed or not, if he doesn't fix my friend up, I will cause Malfoy greater pain than he has ever known," she threatened. Orlando hid his frown by taking a large gulp of tea. The familiar bitterness was like a balm over this new ache.

"I do not think that would be a good idea," he cautioned lightly, looking over the rim of his mug at the redhead.

Before he could continue, she cut him off. "Why not?" she challenged, tossing her head defiantly and glaring at him.

Ginny had never glared at him before, and it was only the fact that he had to deal with Slytherins on a daily basis that allowed him to keep his face calm and not to cringe at the stare. "I think," he said slowly, not sure what to say but knowing he must give her a good reason to not attack. There was a pause, and he ran his fingertips along the rim of his cup. "I think that Hermione is a smart girl and will figure out what needs to be done for herself."

The girl scowled and picked up her own tea, muttering something that sounded like, "Not where Malfoy's concerned." Orlando was beginning to regret telling her. It would have been better, he reflected, to have simply let her find out and then come to him for comfort. They finished their teas in silence, and then she looked up at him fiercely. "Do you know where they are?" she demanded.

"No," Orlando answered truthfully.

"Fine. I'll find them on my own," she said arrogantly and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

The professor was left staring at the door, a look of shocked dismay on his face. "I never said I wouldn't help you," he told it sadly, "there's no need to act like I did you a personal injury." With a melancholy, pensive mood upon him, Orlando found some papers to grade and carefully kept his mind off of the young girl, who was so unfairly angry with him.


Ginny had searched all day for them. High and low, she had systematically combed the castle, from the dungeons all the way up to the astronomy tower. It had certainly not been her best hunt, she'd always been the best at hide-and-seek, but she could not help that her mind was elsewhere. Orlando's hurt look had lingered in her mind all day.

She had been unreasonable, and she knew it. Orlando probably had as little idea as she as to where the couple was holed up—had been holed up—this whole time. Ginny never had been a morning person, but it had been cruel for her to lash out at him so. With all her heart, she hoped he would forgive her.

Sitting on the steps to the astronomy tower, Ginny glanced out a window. The dusky evening outside matched her mood—dark and moody. She sent out a desperate wish for a cup of tea and the warmth of Orlando's arms around her waist. Grumpy because of her inability to find Hermione and because of her earlier anger with Orlando, she punched the wall.

Of course, that helped not at all. Ginny pulled herself together. She would just go and talk to him, and then…then maybe he could help her find them. Yes, that was a good plan….

A few minutes later, standing in front of Orlando's door, it didn't seem like such a good idea. Repeatedly, she rose her hand to knock and then put it down again. Apologizing would be hard for her, she never had been good at it. She had quick spell reflexes, and an easy anger. But apologizing had never been easy.

Frowning, she decided to just try and open the door. If he was expecting her, it would be open. If he was mad at her for her snap earlier, it would be locked, she decided. Reaching down, she turned the knob….


The door shut, and Hermione sat up in bed. Her upper body protested such an action, and she winced in pain, though the scowl quickly reclaimed her face. Draco was acting weird. Yes, he slept with her anyway, and did boyfriend-ly things, like brush her hair out of her eyes and bring her food to her while still in bed. Sometimes, though, when he thought she wasn't looking, he had trained upon her a look of utmost loathing. It reminded her of the looks he trained on Harry, or the looks Professor Snape gave to Harry (or even most of the Gryffindors).

But Draco had never given her that look before. Not with this much hatred, this much feeling behind it. Before, he had given her a similar look, one of intense dislike, and sneering scorn. But loathing? Never.

It frightened Hermione.

What frightened her more was that she had no idea why he was looking at her like that. Think reasonably, she told herself. It probably had something to do with what had happened while he was gone.

Sorrow rent her heart. She had known the likelihood of him coming back and still being hers was slim. People did not go away and have life-changing experiences and come back to what they had left. Indeed, it happened some times, but certainly not as often as she could hope. A groan of dismay left her, and she clambered out of the high bed to do some homework. If anything, that at least would get her mind off of things.


His hands shook as he penned the letter, and he hated himself for his weakness. Despite the sourness of their last meeting, he hoped to mend things between himself and his daughter. He had also heard, through the grapevine, that his beautiful dragons had gotten to her. That was a pitiful turn of events, but he may yet be able to salvage its remains and turn it to his advantage. If he could figure out how…

Lord Voldemort leaned back and looked at the letter. He may as well simply give her the assignment in person, she would come to him in a few days anyway. The door to his office swung open, and he grumpily allowed Peter to enter, looking just as mousy as ever but thankfully bringing a few flasks of brandy with him.

"Do you think this is too much for the girl?" he queried, not really caring what Pettigrew answered. He knew that he would probably give her the assignment anyway.

Peter said nothing, but his eyebrows crumpled together as if he was thinking. Voldemort thought that the only things going through his mind were probably how to answer the truth without angering his master. "I believe that you know best," said the man, with a too-fierce look of relief. Voldemort inwardly congratulated himself on being right.

"That's right," he muttered. Pettigrew looked up at him sharply and quickly carried the tray out of the room.

"It'll either make her or break her," he said into the silence. The fire crackled heartily in response, and the Dark Lord picked up the letter he had written and was about to throw it in. At the last moment, though, he decided against it and stored it inside his desk instead.

Just in case.


The next time Hermione woke up, it was Sunday afternoon. Draco lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Not liking his expression, Hermione warily got down from the bed and stood in front of the fire that seemed to be almost always burning. Hopefully he would tell her what was wrong.

"Hermione?" she heard behind her.

"Yes, Draco?" she answered softly. Her heart seemed in her throat, and her pulse pounded. Please, don't say something bad, please.

"I…I think I hate you," Draco whispered. The pulse that had seemed like thunder in her body earlier stilled, and she stiffened. She did not say anything and waited for him to go on.


We'll never fall apart
So tell me why this hurts so much

My hands are at your throat
And I think I hate you

—Story of the Year, "Until the Day I Die"

Spastic asian: "Orlanda thinks he won't get fired for doing anything with Ginny while Dumbledore is headmaster?" That is actually not what I meant. I meant that at the moment pretty much all he and Ginny are doing together is hugging and cuddling and the VERY occasional kiss. Orlando doesn't think Dumbledore will fire him for that. He IS worried that Dumbledore will fire him if he does more than that.

I guess it's a good thing Ginny's good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, right? Because it'd be really screwy to have to fail the person you're in love with.