"Congratulations," Draco drawled, peering down at the crowd below. "You made it through, Granger. I'm impressed that you bothered to come."
Hermione stood at the entrance, arms folded. She wondered how on earth was it possible that she was concerned about such a derisive rankling cockroach. With the manner he was speaking in, any sense of genuine empathy seeped out of her.
"Why haven't you jumped?" she snapped. "I don't see the point of you selecting me to come here."
"I would have jumped if those obtrusive people had gotten out of my way," he remarked, gesturing towards the crowd. "Seeing my cracked skull could cause some … unrest amongst them. Either way, it's impossible to die in peace if you're mobbed by people in all directions."
Hermione exhaled exasperatedly. Draco was back in one of his obnoxious mood. Nothing she said would deter him from ending his depredations. Each word thrown at him would just be derailed into dissent. She did not have time for his little games.
"Spare me your thoughts, Malfoy," her tone was rock solid. "Get down from the ledge."
Draco peered at her from the corners of his eyes, a smirk adorning his face. "No," he said, his words clipped as usual.
"I said get down from there!"
"And I said no!" Draco replied heatedly. "For all your brains, Granger, can't you understand such a simple word?"
Hermione clenched her fists by her side, struggling to contain the frisson of ire that was building up in her. No one could get under her skin as best as Draco, and he knew that. Her hatred for him had simmered down. She could not help but feel a slight worry creeping into her heart. Her granite-hearted half, however, longed to kick him down the tower.
She took a deep breath. She had to keep her emotions at bay. Professor McGonagall had trusted her to save him. If she could not do it straight-forwardly, then she had to use a psychological approach.
"Malfoy, why are you doing this?" she asked gently, advancing slightly towards him. "Why are you making people despise you more?"
Dark silence ensued. Draco gazed out of the ledge absently, his fingers gripping the sides of the wall. Should he tell her? His mind was buzzing. It wouldn't matter, anyway. When the crowd clears, he would jump down and die.
"It's simple, isn't it?" Draco started the conversation quietly. "To hate somebody. To loathe him. To ostracize him. You don't have to care about his feelings or bother to find out who he really is. You just add up all his wrongdoings and label him a villain. That's true, isn't it?"
For the first time in her life, Hermione felt that Draco was talking sense. His words whacked her viciously, as if getting her to admit her fault. To admit that she once hated him.
"Everyone knows my mother's dead, but they don't care how she died," Draco carried on. Every sentence that came caused a surge of emotions to overpower him. "She was immensely tortured before he Avada Kedavra-ed her. Right in front of me. Do you think I enjoyed running away? God, I couldn't even bury my own mother! They're still holding on to her body."
Draco rashly wiped his tears away. Hermione did not bother to wipe hers. He was right; everyone was ignorant about Narcissa. She could not blame them though. Narcissa Malfoy had given rise to so much strife and sufferings within the wizarding world. Hermione would not be surprised if there were people who found happiness in her death.
In this moment, Hermione began to see Draco in a different light. The arrogance and superiority that heralded his every move was simply a mask to hide his actual self. It seemed incredulous but Hermione saw it now : unlike Lucius, Draco was capable of loving someone else, even if it was just his own mother.
"I admit that my mother wasn't the best of witches, but she was a good mother," Draco resumed his confession. "She tried to steer me away from the Dark Arts. She didn't want me to end up like her. But my father …" he faltered as he broke into small sobs. "No one cares about her plight. So I guess I don't deserve anyone's concern either.
"I'm not asking for girls to be running after me like in the previous years. All I'm begging for is a chance to redeem myself. Yet no one was willing to fulfill my wish."
Melancholia ravaged his soul. Hermione could only watch helplessly as Draco lay slumped against the wall, burying his face in his knees. She ehard his loud, racking sobs. If only she could offer a word of consolation or two, but her mind had dried up. She crouched next to him.
"Draco, come on," she cajoled. "Let's go from here."
He shook his head, whimpering, "I don't have a reason to live. No one is willing to give me a chance. I don't even have friends."
Normally, Hermione would have been driven up the wall by such obstinacy. Somehow, she was surprisingly patient with Draco. Reaching out for his hand, she reassured him, "No, Draco. Everyone will give you a chance, but it takes time. And who says you don't have friends? I'll be your friend if you get away from here."
Draco lifted his head slowly. His handsome face was smudged with tears. In a small voice, he asked, "Promise?"
A faint smile stretched the corners of Hermione's lips. Brushing away his tears with her fingers, she whispered, "Promise."
Draco's eyes fluttered open, surveying his surroundings. He was certainly not in his room. This place was far more larger and the windows were too far away from his bed. Draco reached out for the bedside lamp and flicked it on. At the sight of empty beds arranged in neat, parallel rows, he sighed inwardly.
Of course, I'm in the Hospital Wing, he chided himself. Granger brought me here.
He shifted himself to get out of the bed when his grey eyes caught sight of someone. She was hunched on a chair but was resting her head on the side of his bed. Draco allowed himself a smile. His brunette angel still looked ravishing in her sleep. He expressed his well-hidden feelings for her by gently kissing the top of her head. He had never found the courage to tell her his feelings that had been building up in him since their second year.
Hermione stirred and Draco instantaneously backed away. He did not have the heart to wake her up but he did it anyway. Besides, he wanted to get out of the Hospital Wing as fast as possible.
"Oh hey, you're up," Hermione greeted him, smiling as she rubbed her eyes. "How do you feel? Madam Malkin had to sedate you so you would go to sleep."
Draco flashed her a genuine smile. "Much more calmer. How come you didn't go back to your room?"
"You were so distraught just now," she reasoned, rising from her seat. "I wanted to make sure you're okay. Well, since you're conscious, I guess I'll go and get Madam Malkin to discharge you. It's only 5 am but I think that's not going to bother her much."
"Hermione, wait!" Draco called out. Despite himself, he was startled that he had called her by her first name. "I just want to say … thanks. You know, for saving my life."
Hermione laughed softly. "What are friends for, Draco? Get ready, alright? We'll go back to the Heads' room soon."