Shattered
Chapter Eight
"Tea?" He asked casually, guiding her into his chambers slowly after their ordeal with Bane, she was still shaken.
She only nodded, she would drink anything right now to calm her nerves and settle herself down.
He vanished, leaving her to sit down on the couch she had so easily fallen asleep on her previous time in here, and she looked intently at his collection of liquor bottles, if she didn't know any better, she would have thought perhaps that he had shares in a distillery.
"No, Miss Granger, I don't have shares in a distillery," He casually said, handing her a cup of tea and sitting in a lone armchair to her left.
"Do you always have to enter my head?" She asked, annoyed.
"How can I not? Your thoughts are loud, they just scream to be read. And with the amount of money I have spent, I should have shares in a distillery."
"You know, Alcoholism isn't healthy." She took a sip of her tea, relaxing back into the couch, watching him pour the last few drops from a whiskey bottle into his own cup.
"Either is keeping your feelings and emotions bottled up until you can't hold them in anymore and cry an entire night. We all have our shortfalls, Miss Granger." He took a sip of his own alcohol-laced tea, looking over the teacup at her; maybe she did have a point… He had been partaking in the consumption of the liquor a little heavy-handed lately.
"If I were meant to die, I would have died when Nagini tried to kill me, Miss Granger. Any day after that is just a bonus, so if my liver were to give out tomorrow, I wouldn't be upset."
"Surely you have things to look forward to in life…" She trailed off taking another sip of tea.
"Not really," His reply was dry.
"You don't have any family? A significant other?"
He shook his head, long black hair curtaining his face as he dropped his gaze to the ground. He didn't like talking about his parents. "My father was an unpleasant man until he met his unfortunate demise." The corners of his lips flicked up into a sneer. "Such a shame that he died," he bit with total sarcasm.
"What happened?" Hermione asked, wondering if she was pushing the boundaries or not. "Did you… Did you kill him?" She stammered.
"You have to remember, Miss Granger. He was a terribly evil person. He used to beat my mother, abused her mentally and physically," he voice cracking as he talked, a lone tear escaped and slid down his cheek and he was thankful his hair was covering his face so she couldn't see his weakness. He scrubbed the palms of his hands over his eyes and across his cheek, removing the tear that was slowly running down his face.
She didn't even need to ask him again, she knew that was a good enough confession as any, albeit indirectly said.
"He killed my mother in one of his fits of rage. Snapped her wand and the pushed her down the stairs. I was tormented as a child, watching the abuse unfold but not being strong enough to stop it. He beat me too. To feel so helpless as a child as you watch your mother beaten and bloody in front of you and knowing you can't do anything to help is soul destroying," his voice crackling sadly as if he were about to burst into tears at his confession.
"Would you not have gotten revenge on someone who abused your mother and killed her, Miss Granger? Even if that man was your sperm donor? I won't call him my father; he was never a father to me. I hated him and he hated me equally. He didn't like that I would try to protect my mother from his fists of rage. I was on the receiving end many a time trying to stop him." His voice low and strained.
"I would much rather do myself in than lay a hand on the woman whom I was meant to love and had a hand in bringing life into this world with. He was weak. A weak lowly animal, he wasn't missed by anyone and especially not by me. They had to identify him only by his dental records once his remains were found."
"I'm sorry," She managed to whisper, shocked and confused at the confession he was spilling forth towards her. And it all of a sudden made so much sense to her, he was like he was because he was abused directly by the hands of his father, one of the people who is meant to protect and love you, not beat and berate you.
All of a sudden she felt sad, she felt emphatic as if she should walk over, rest her hand on his shoulder and let him know he has someone in the world that would talk to him, who knew what it was like to be alone. Who knew how lonely one's thoughts were when they were left to their own devices.
She spied a Daily Prophet resting precariously on the edge of his coffee table and she made a grab for it, he saw what she was doing and grabbed it before she could. Obscuring it from her view.
"Why can't I read it?" She protested.
"You don't want to, trust me on this one."
"Show me," She demanded. "I'm not a child I can handle whatever is in there."
He sighed, closed his eyes and handed her the paper, giving her a few moments to peruse the article splashed on the front pages. Her facial expression turned from confusion, loathing and finally finished at a pale, sickly shade of white.
"I tried to stop you from reading it, Miss Granger."
Tears began to spill down her cheeks as sadness etched into her face. "How could he do it?" She whispered.
A smiling photo a Ron and Lavender Brown (Or rather Weasley) splashed across the front page of the paper, hand in hand as they waved to the camera. Lavender was dressed in a beautiful wedding gown while Ron was dressed in a fine suit.
"War hero marries Hogwarts love?" She snorted as she threw the paper on the ground with force.
"I put up with him for all of those years. Not her, me! I am the one that got him out of so many stupid situations and predicaments that it isn't funny. She did nothing. Nothing!" Her voice raised a few octaves. "And what thanks do I get? None. Zip. Not even an invite to the wedding. Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Well, to be fair, your talents would have been wasted marrying him, tied to the kitchen popping out redhead after redhead as you pandered to his every whim."
"I'm not even angry with that. I'm not even angry that he married her…" she trailed off.
"Yes, you are. You thought deep down perhaps one day when you were ready you would take him back, he would welcome you with open arms and you would marry him and have babies." He sipped his tea watching her over the rim intently.
"I'm angrier that I didn't even get an invite. Oh, Hermione, you were my best friend for eight bloody years, come to our wedding," she said in a mock high falsetto. "I wasn't even an afterthought in this stupid situation and that is what really hurts me." Her eyes filled with tears once again as she began to sob, holding her head in her hands.
"You're better off without him, without them," he tried to be reassuring but he wasn't really good at this, at consoling a crying teenage girl in his chambers after hours, or consoling anyone for that matter.
"I just don't get why they didn't even tell me. Even Harry could have told me…"
"Once people get what they want, they are quick to dispose of the person when they no longer have anything to offer."
She finished her tea and set down the cup on the table in a small space between the whiskey and the gin.
"I guess I won't be going to the burrow for Christmas then." She knew she probably wouldn't have been anyway, but this turn of unfortunate events had just confirmed that.
It was his turn to snort. "Oh no," He said sarcastically, "You can't go sit in that shit-shack eating whatever food Molly scrapes together, listening to those inept morons talking about Quidditch. Followed by an evening of out of tune singing that would be in my humble opinion worse than strangling a cat while running nails over a chalkboard. Look at it this way; you won't have to sit there watching that vapid little bitch shove her tongue down Weasley's throat the entire time you are there. She is dull and she is plain, you came out on top here, could you imagine a conversation between those two? They would be lucky to have ten brain cells between them."
She had to stifle a laugh, covering her mouth. "You have a point."
"Of course I have a point. I would rather spend an eternity roaming the lands as a lonely, bitter, twisted prick than spend one Christmas being subject to those atrocities."
"Well… you already have the lonely, bitter and twisted part right, so you only have to start roaming and you will be set." Her eyes glittered mischievously as a smile played on her lips.
"I should give you detention for that. But I have already learned my lesson not to do that again or I get stuck here till the wee hours consoling you and spilling my guts."
"And that's a problem?" She asked
"Not at all. It's better than sitting here drinking alone every night."
"Or you could just not drink at all, you know." She tossed her wild mane of curls over her shoulder, her eyes glittering in the light of the fire. "I don't even see the appeal in drinking. She pulled a bottle of gin off of the table and opened it; sniffing it she crinkled her nose up. "The smell is horrendous." She put the lid back on and moved to the whiskey next, the smell almost took her breath away.
"You could always spend Christmas at Malfoy Manor," he offered, watching her pick up the bottle of vodka to smell it.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.
"Draco has an interest in you…"
"And he can continue to take an interest in me from afar because I have zero interest in him. Is this water?" She questioned, holding up a bottle of vodka. "It doesn't particularly have a smell."
"You are one of the only girls that have ever knocked Draco back. That will only make him desire you more and the chase will be relentless. Draco isn't used to being told no. Draco is used to getting everything that he desires."
"Well, Draco can finally work out what it is like to not get his own way for once in his life." She lifted the bottle to her lips and took in a large sip. She was certain it was water until it touched her tongue and all of a sudden, she regretted her choice. The alcohol burnt her tongue and made her eyes water, she swallowed it hard with a gulp, burning the length of her esophagus right to the pit if her stomach.
"You regret that decision don't you?" He raised a single brow amusement playing on his features.
"I do." She coughed as she set the bottle down. "I am not attracted to Draco in any way, shape, or form. Maybe I will just grow old alone and never marry and never have any children, that would suit me just fine," she harrumphed.
"It's worked for me so far, so I can't disagree with you there. Although as you get older you start to ponder life's meaning and all of the misdeeds and atrocities you have partaken in and wonder if you will be cast to the deepest pits of hell where you will be destined to burn for all eternity and that might actually not be as bad as life itself. And you wonder if you will ever find a semblance of happiness or love but deep down, you know you never will because you don't deserve it." He twisted off the bottle top of the vodka she had just taken a sip from and downed a hearty portion in one.
"I'm sure you will find someone." She smiled meekly at him, "Everyone deserves someone."
"I doubt that very highly. There would be more chance of Voldemort rising again than me ever finding someone who would put up with my terrible personality, my less than desirable looks and my cold attitude. I am quite the narcissist if I do say so myself and I couldn't see any normal functioning woman putting up with that. " He pressed the bottle to his lips again, eyeing her off as she drank the clear liquor.
"You never know. I believe there is someone for everyone, Sir and that someone could come into your life at any moment and when you least expect it for some reason you will never actually know. And you will realize you need this person just as much as they need you and they will love you, warts and all. And you will wonder how you ever got through life without this person and now, all of a sudden life is easier, and you have something to look forward to." She looked off into the distance, gazing unfocused on the wall opposite her dreamily.
"You seem to have such perfect ideologies on love and soul mates planted firmly in your mind, which surprised me for such a young girl who has actually never found her soul mate, has never found the person to make her whole and has never found the person that she needs."
She shrugged. "It's just what I believe, condemn me if you must, but perhaps one day you will see. Perhaps I have found my soul mate, the missing half of myself, the part of me that has been empty, and I just don't even know it yet. Maybe I will realize it at the last moment, before its too late, before I miss out." She tucked her legs under herself on the couch and rested her head on the arm.
"Don't you dare fall asleep there, Miss Granger," he warned. But it was too late; she had already drifted off to sleep. He just loved how the little bitch was so great at dishing out advice when she hadn't had an ounce of experience in the topics she was spruiking. He also equally found it annoying that the little cow felt comfortable enough around him and brazen enough to just fall asleep in his chambers right next to him.
He put down his bottle of vodka and got to his feet, fetching a blanket he gently laid it over her lithe, sleeping form and he watched her for a few moments. Maybe she was right, maybe there was someone out there for him, maybe he could find redemption and maybe he could find love. But for now, he would just keep existing alone.
A/N: Another chapter done and dusted. I was overwhelmed by how many people followed this story after the last chapter. Thank you all so much.
-Aliasmel1