MY LAST NAME
Chapter 5
Hermione awoke in a darkened room. She was laid on her back, her arm in a sling. She stared up into the darkness and as her eyes adjusted she saw how high the ceiling was, just how grand everything was. The vast room made her feel uncomfortable, and she couldn't remember anything after seeing Malfoy in Diagon Alley. She sat up slowly, and immediately regretted it. Her head started to spin, and her eyesight was blurring. After she had gathered some strength and consciousness, she turned around to examine her wound, but it had almost completely vanished. She slowly moved her legs and torso around and stood up off the bed. The sheets were dark silk and satin, with pillows upon pillows climbing up the large headboard. She tiptoed across the room and to the door.
Her breath became shallow as she turned the handle.
"Hello Miss, you shouldn't be outa bed y'know" a friendly looking woman who carried a stack of towels and was dressed in black greeted her.
"Erm" she paused, thinking hard. "Can you tell me where I am please?" Hermione felt it ridiculously embarrassing to ask the question. The woman laughed.
"The Malfoy Residence Miss" she nodded and smiled. Hermione had thought as much, but it was all so hard to believe.
"Ah here's the master now" she walked away, carrying her towels and headed around the corner of the corridor and out of sight.
"You're awake then" Draco stated, walking around the other corner and towards Hermione. He had changed a lot; he had grown taller, but was toned and lean. His jawline had grown to perfection and his hair was still the distinctive white, but longer, greased back and and tucked behind his ears. He wore a black shirt, roughly tucked into some smart black jeans. His hands buried into his pockets as he stood there, waiting for Hermione to reply.
"Yes, yes I am" she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. What the hell was she supposed to say to him? She hadn't seen him since the war.
"How does your arm feel?" His words were short and to the point.
"It feels a lot better, thank you"
"So the Essence of Dittany actually worked?"
She nodded and looked down. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Come, you must be hungry" he swiftly turned around and walked off, slow enough for her to follow. She wasn't hungry, not in the slightest, but she had questions.
She followed him through the empty halls, huge and grand. Paintings were hung on the walls in giant frames. The cold tiled floor was smooth on her bare feet. She followed him into a large dining room, where two servants stood near the door. He sat down and beckoned her to sit opposite. She tentatively walked and took her place. The room was too huge for just four people, it was intimidating.
"Bethany, Victoria, would you please bring some drinks, and some breakfast for me and Miss Granger" Draco asked, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his brow. Both servants nodded silently and left the room. The door closed behind them and the sound echoed through the room.
They both sat, awkwardly in silence. He cleared his throat, and sat forwards.
"I know this must be bizarre for you, it, it's immensely peculiar for me" he shifted awkwardly. Hermione sat in silence, still watching Draco carefully.
"Well, It is an awfully strange turn of events" Hermione sat up straight, as if she were to be interviewed. He half smiled.
"Granger I - "
"Hermione, if you please" she had always hated being called by her last name. He looked at her before quickly saying:
"Hermione, I don't really know what to say. And it's not often I find myself unable to summon words" he looked at his hands, which were placed on the table.
"I can relate to that also" she stated quietly.
He all of a sudden shuck his head and rubbed his face with his hands.
"No, you don't understand" his voice was louder.
"Gra -, Hermione, I've been wanting to say something to you for a long time now, but I've always gotten so far, and then I've always resorted back to being the dirty, filthy coward that I am" he looked down disgusted. Hermione was silent, her breath becoming shallow. He stood up, pushing his chair out with one swift movement. The loud grinding sound echoed around the room. He paced, hands back in his pockets, before he stopped and turned to her.
"I've been wanting you to understand, that I am so, so sorry about what happened. I am remorseful every, single fucking day. It plays on my mind. It echoes through my empty house. I see it every single day on my arm" he looked down towards his dark mark "I know that I have been, undoubtedly, a monster to you, and to Potter, and Weasley" he trailed off, and he was pacing again, trying to think of what else to say, but his emotions ran high, and he didn't want that showing. Hermione looked up at him, confused. He looked down at her, into her eyes, they were teaming with sympathy, and outstanding beauty. He never looked away from her, until she said something that he was never going to be able to be in the state of mind to accept.
"Draco, you don't have to be sorry"
He froze. And then laughed loudly. Hermione was stunned.
"Granger, look at your arm." He walked around the table, closer to her. She looked down at the faint scar of which spelled out, 'mudblood'. She shuddered, and looked away.
"I watched, and did nothing" he sounded disgusted in himself.
"I could've stopped her"
"You would've been killed" she interrupted. "You were brainwashed Draco. We all had to choose, and you would've been killed if you had gone against your fathers wishes." He flinched at the word.
"My, father, made me into a monster. I could've gone against his word, I could've helped you" he sat down next to her and buried his face into his hands. She looked down at him, and felt a wave of sympathy drown her. She felt sorry for the man, who was always living in the shadows of his family's mistakes. She knew he was sorry, she could see the pain it caused. Yet she was stunned by his words, his apology had well and truly frozen all bad thoughts she had in her mind, about Bellatrix, about Voldemort, about everything.
"Don't get upset, Draco" she whispered gently. He remained in the same position. She held her hand out, hovering over his shoulder; she wanted to calm him, make the pain that obviously suffocated him, go away. She knew how it felt to be alone, to have no one there to comfort her. Her hand still hovered, and quickly snapped back to her side when the door opened and his two servants entered, one with pots of tea, coffee and orange juice and the other with a selection of pastries. Draco sat up right as quickly as Hermione's hand had retreated and walked back over to his chair, facing opposite to Hermione. The servants soon departed and left the room in a deadly silence again. She looked down at the cold jug of orange juice. She followed a drip of condensation roll down the voluptuous container.
"Please help yourself" Draco filled a delicate china cup for himself. The heavy, musky scent of Camomile filled the air. She looked down, her mouth dry. He offered her the Camomile tea, and once she gently nodded, he filled her china cup up with the sweet hot water.
"Thank you Draco" she looked at him as he looked at her "thank you for saving me."