Heart On Her Sleeve - Chapter 6
When she got to the room used for the session, she realized that she was in skinny jeans, cotton V neck and TOMS, not the school uniform. Whatever. Walking in, she saw heads turning in confusion that Hermione was not following all of the rules possible leading her to resent her own her reputation. They all formed a circle while Daisy was trying to engage the other students in conversation.
"Good morning everyone" Daisy started in her high pitched breathy way. "How is everyone doing today?" *Mumble mumble mumble* She grinned none the less. "Okay then. Healing is a very painful process. The first step is to acknowledge that the pain exists. Pain has a way of demanding to be felt and ignoring it will only lengthen the process." She paused a minute to let that sink in with the audience. Nobody visibly responding to what she had said. Susan Bones was picking at a peeling section of her shoes, Cormac was zoned out staring at the wall with his mouth open and stupid look on his face and Cho was admiring her fingernails.
"To start us off, we are going to go around the circle and say who we lost in the war. I'll start. I lost my brother and aunt during the last month of the war. They were killed by a raid of death eater supporters in New Haven." She paused for a moment, honoring their death, then turned to Stephen so that he could continue. The atmosphere of the room had changed. He raised his hands to brush his buzz cut hair.
"I lost my sister." The room was very quiet, everyone reflecting on their own grief. "She was kidnapped and then killed because she was a half-blood. We adopted her when she was little and that's why they didn't take me." His voice trailed off. Student by student they went around the room, the number of dead racking up. It was hard for Hermione to speak all of the names of the past loved ones. She had the longest list of everyone: Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Lavender Brown, Severus Snape, Colin Creevey, Cedric Diggory, Sirius Black, Amelia Bones, Albus Dumbledore and Dobby.
The curious thing in the circle was Malfoy. It looked like he wasn't going to answer as he stared Daisy straight in the eyes. But he eventually broke contact to find a spot on the wall and monotonously listed six names. Snape, his father and Crabbe were all on the list but he acted as if he didn't care. Hermione could smell the coping mechanism from a mile away even though they weren't that far apart. She gazed at his posture, it was very upright and coiled with thinly veiled tension. His shoulders were pulled back, lengthening his rigid spine. The black buttons on his uniform dress robes reflected the light raining in from the open windows; his hands rested un-movingly on his knees. For the first time she looked at him without looking for the flaws, she wanted to see what was there out of genuine curiosity. She began to notice things that she hadn't cared to see before. For instance, he was very still. From what she knew of his background, he was a social elitist. That probably included going to many boring events that a teenager would not want to attend so maybe he had to learn how to be disciplined in his body language. His childhood oppressions appeared in his put-together-ness: the finely clipped hair, clean nails, polished shoes and so on.
Intellectually, Hermione could evaluate his life and almost sympathize with it but emotionally she was still angry at everything he put them through. It is easier to be a bully to someone than it is to open up and reach out to them. Did Hermione always want to be nice to the hopeless and awkward Neville? No, she didn't, but it was against her moral code to mistreat another human soul like that.
Hermione was still reflecting on Malfoy when Cho Chang finished the list of dead. Hermione respected Cho Chang's ability to hold in the tears over listing Cedric. She guessed the Cho felt like she was in love with Cedric, maybe she had primary school notions that they would stay in love and marry later in life, but since Hermione had never experienced something like that she couldn't judge the depth of pain Cho felt. Glancing at the clock, Hermione calculated that they still had forty five minutes left in the period.
Daisy said words of consolation as a prelude to the next activity. "Although there are many moments before their death, most remember people the way in which they were taken away. Today, I want you to pair up and pick a few things about one of the dear ones that you lost and share that. Then we will go around and repeat what we gathered and any comments on that." Mary Ann raised her hand to ask if she was assigning the partners. "Yes, I am. I chose couples that I speculated would benefit from the other. Cho with Seamus, Mary Ann and Cormac, Susan to Stephan, leaving Hermione and Draco." Hermione saw a raised eyebrows coming from Susan at their pair but Hermione just didn't care. No shits to give. Getting up and moving over to where Malfoy was in sync with the other relocating students, she slowly eased down in front of him. She let a small moment pass before she carelessly asked, "Who's your person?" Instead of answering, Draco ignored her and twisted the attention back to her. "Who had to die to get attention?" If he had been a close friend that she knew genuinely cared about her and her happiness, then maybe Hermione would have considered revealing her dark secret, but certainly not to Draco Malfoy in a mandated group therapy led by Queen of the Feel Good Magic.
"Not today." She warned him.
"What, is this the day that the beastly red-headed moron broke up with you?" In the intellectual sparring, she kept her cool and retaliated.
"My friendship with Harry and Ron are the only things you know about me, isn't it? Sad, really. We've been living up the same roof for almost seven years and you know nothing; what does that say about you? Oh wait, I shouldn't try to talk about morality with a Slytherin."
"You think you're so clever. I am the one that found you utterly sloshed last night and found it in myself to not report you. Also for this." He reached over and twisted her arm palm forward to expose the newly acquire scar of hers. However, he pulled on the wrong arm and instead the word MUDBLOOD stared up at him. In this proximity, he saw a healed line of scar tissue perfectly cutting through the word. Draco knew that a cut like that would result in intense blood loss. Blinded by anguish and hatred, she glanced down to her marked arm then back up to his unguarded expression and asked, "Do I have this to thank you for too?"
"Do not blame that on me." A dark black feeling dripped into his heart with the thought that she held him accountable for that moment.
"Just wondering what to expect from someone related to someone who could do this." She stretched out her arm to force him to look at what she had to every day. He submitted to her dominance and closed his eyes, shielding himself away from the memory attached to her arm.
"Just checking that we've picked out person to talk about." Daisy's round clear face appeared at eye level, peering into their conversation like a mom.
"Yeah, I picked Fred Weasley." She lied.
"And I, Crabbe." Malfoy filled in.
"Wonderful! Continue on." Daisy floated onto the next group.
"So, tell me about Crabbe."
The session was a nice distraction from Hermione's reality but after Hermione and Malfoy got along for the first time, she slunk away in the direction of her room. Or at least she tried to but was stopped by a student who reported McGonagall's wishes to see her in the office. Hermione sighed. She just wanted to go back to her room and fall out of consciousness instead she was going to go deal with a harangue. She slowly schleped down the halls, stopping periodically to study a painting, just filling her mind with observations. There was another period or two of classes before the school day was over so the hallways were mostly empty. Some of her classmates had empty periods while other students were running down the hallway to take a lavatory break. Sometimes she forgot how majestic the castle's insides were; living within the walls you think about how many kids just trampled over everything. Laughing, screaming, running, crying, giggling, yelling, groaning, chattering, gossiping, frolicking and deceitfulness, it all wisps around on the inside and leaves the building unaffected. She used to be one of those partakers but now she felt hollowed out on the inside; as if she was a papier-mâché piñata filled with cotton-stuffing. Soon she was at the large statue signaling the staircase to carry her to the office. Her steps were soft and near weightless as they landed on the floor. Her head was mildly throbbing with a headache. She knew that if she could just lay down, the uneasy feeling in her stomach would go away. Instead, she stepped up the faded gold colored stairs.
As Hermione expected, McGonagall was behind the desk with a stack of parchment unrolled in front of her sitting straight up in the chair
donned in eggplant purple colored robes. The object that was out of order in this recently decluttered office was a calculator placed at the edge of the desk.
"Miss Granger, have a seat." Only for a moment did the headmaster look up before continuing her train of thought on the parchment. Placing her quill back into the ink bottle, McGonagall addressed the young female silently awaiting her attention.
"Your parents have requested that I pardon you for the rest of the day to join them for a visit to the cemetery for the anniversary of your brother's death. I have accepted, especially since you were not attending this morning classes anyways, which I'm sure is a sign of your bereavement and will not be repeated again." McGonagall paused for confirmation to which Hermione nodded her head not caring if she was going to become a liar. "This calck-yoou-laatER will take you into your parent's backyard which has been concealed from the muggle neighbors for safety purposes. It will be active in thirty minutes and again at ten o'clock for you to return. If you are not at breakfast tomorrow, someone will be sent to retrieve you and the consequences will not be pleasant so I do not advice it." Granger nodded, already knowing that she would not stay a minute longer if she didn't have too.
McGonagall paused allowing Hermione a moment to say anything if she pleased, honestly surprised by the women she saw in front of her today. She was too thin and rough around the edges. Her hair was throne up into a careless limp pony-tail which almost resembled her deflated sort of personality. She had dark circles around her eyes and stretched skin around her once plumb cheeks and lips. Her skin color also seemed diminished as if she was more sick than healthy.
"Okay, you are dismissed." Hermione rose and only stopped walking out of the room when McGonagall called out her name.
"I am sorry for the loss of your brother. I hope that this won't defeat you." Hermione turned around and tried to send an appreciative smile back at her beloved professor but her face felt like it was being stretched uncomfortably. Wordlessly, she slipped out in a smaller form than the one she walked in with.
Hermione popped into her old backyard to see that the manicured lawn had not changed a bit. The stone bird fountain was still dirt free and sprinkling water onto birds that were taking advantage of the effortless water supply. Wishing she could linger longer, Hermione stepped inside the french styled glass doors into the wide, open model-looking home. The furniture was classically tasted with coffee tables and coasters sprinkled with decorative throw pillows and cashmere blankets.
"Hermione. Welcome home." Her mother said as if her daughter walking through the back door was an every day occurrence not as if she had been gone for several months.
"Mother, hello."
"Well come over here and give me a hug." In accordance to her command, Hermione moved over to her mother and hugged her. She felt her mother give her a little squeeze then quickly released her.
"Your Father is in his study. Why don't you go say hello before everyone else shows up. You're going to change right?"
"Everyone else?" That comment took Hermione by surprise even though it is what she expect from a socialite like her mother. Hermione knew that everyone grieved in their own way but there was too much raw emotion near the surface for her to see past her parents cold and, bordering on indifferent, attitude.
"We're having over some family and friends for the memorial gathering in honor of Dominic. What did you think was happening today?" Sandra Granger had a bold bob cut that framed her black hair around her heart-shaped face. Excluding the hair, Hermione looked very similar to her mother. Same straight button nose, sprinkling of freckles along the upper cheeks, naturally pink cheeks and expressive golden brown eyes. Sandra walked over to the bar counter that separate the kitchen from the living room and opened the sleek laptop that was there. Quickly, her mother was absorbed in email and communication would be deteriorated to one word answers if Hermione even tried. She knew better though and turned to go find her father when her mother addressed her once more.
"I laid a dress on your bed for you to wear." A wave of disappointment had hit Hermione at the interaction but that last comment just grated on her nerves. Hermione could feel the rage ballooning inside of her but she walked away instead. Fights with her mother were either vicious affairs or condescending dismissals.
Hermione had received at least a 'welcome home' from her father but that was about it. Closing the door to his study to leave him and his many papers inside was muscle memory for Hermione. Hermione inherited the serious mind set from both her parents and that's why Dominic was such a blessing because he was all laughs and smiles. He was the one that convinced them all to go trick-or-treating and to watch movies all together. He was their lynch-pin. Hermione softly stepped up the black marble staircase to the smaller upstairs quarters. First thing was a smaller entertainment room that fed into a hallway with three rooms and a bathroom attached. She stopped at the top of the stairs and closed her eyes. Throughout the entire house the only thing she could hear was her mother typing at her machine and Hermione's own breathing. In that moment, she was aware of all the empty space around her.
Moving away from the stairs she continued onto the last bedroom on the left. Everything inside the house was considered Sandra territory. Hermione had once hung up a magical poster only to return to her room hours later with it removed. She knew that if she talked to her mother about it, Sandra would have said that it was inappropriate and didn't match her color scheme. Modern, expensive looking housing were filled with basic, lifeless colors. This was so nothing distracted from the remarkable vastness of any given room. To Sandra Granger, this was a religion. That is why Hermione was not surprised when everything in her room had changed from Hermione's favorite color scarlet to white and grey. The only splash of anything different was a simple but serious looking dress on the bed. Anger ripped through her insides and fire burned in her chest. How dare she change my room. Breathing deeply, Hermione went to check Dominic's room just in case. As the stuffy air from his room whoosed in her face at the opening of his door, her anger dissipated like liquid down a drain. Every single object was the exact same. There was even an empty cup on the bedside table that was probably once full of water. Like a film covering her eyes, the ghost image of her brother appeared. Sitting in the corner, she could see him playing with his toys. An action figure with a sword stuck in his hand laid forgotten on the carpet. Closing the door behind her, Hermione retreated back to her room. Grief replaced the blood in her veins and it sunk her to her feet. Her mother's clacking keys filled her mind in a numb nothing.
After what must have been ten minutes of staring at the wall, she heard a knocking hand at the front door. Soft sympathetic voices bobbed up the landing to where Hermione sat in the hallway.
Oh Dominic, she thought, I never thought any of this would happen.
"He had the sweetest little face."
"So smart too."
"The world really is a lesser place without him here."
"I could already see him growing up and taking over for your father."
"I miss having him over to play with William."
"What a nice kid."
"How is boarding school?"
"How are your grades fairing?"
"We miss our son. We're just doing our best to move on from the unfortunate accident."
Draco was walking through the empty halls of the ground floor when a familiar pop sound caught his attention. Within a millisecond of the sound, a figure appeared. He was looking at the silhouette of a women. Curly hair, floor length black dress that from his angle made the women look razor thin. Her bird-like arms were covered in a lace pattern from her wrists to her shoulders; also black. Draco stepped forward to identify the woman although in the back of his mind, he already knew. He hadn't stepped out from the shadows when she turned around. From the small clutch in her left hand, she drew her wand.
"Who are you and why are you watching me?" Yes, it was definitely Granger.
"Calm down, it's only me." He identified himself. Surprisingly, she lowered the weapon pointed at him immediately.
"What are you doing down here?" Her tone was cautious, like she wasn't sure how she should react.
"I could ask the same thing. Taking an evening stroll in your formal muggle dress? Did someone finally take you on a proper date?" Her shoulders were slumped which did no favors to her figure. Instead of retaliating, she sighed. "Not tonight." Draco opened his mouth but before he could say anything, she added, "Please." He simply nodded in her direction. Their eyes met for several seconds. Draco was captivated. He was used to seeing her eyes ablaze with indignation, but hers were… just eyes staring back at him. They were filled with no emotions. Like he said, Hermione was passion. This was not Hermione. She turned and walked away from him looking purposeless. Draco moved to stand in the space she had just been in and looked down. There were two red drops on the floor.
One of the most frustrating things about Malfoy is that she couldn't figure him out. She was so tired. The buzz of noise at her parent's house had followed her home and vibrated in her head. Unsure of where she was going, the hallways passed her by in an unusual fashion. Similar to an Alice-in-Wonderland scene, the walls would stretch to stare down at her from miles high. The lace sleeves on her dress were uncomfortable, like having dozens of little tags poking into her skin. Her thoughts were a slow swirl of words dancing through her mind. Distracted, she bumped into the wall which caused the open wound on her arm to pulsate angrily; gushing more blood out.
Hermione tried to remember when she had done that. Maybe after her mother's speech, maybe before. Did it really matter? No was the answer. It was at that moment that Hermione realized why the walls were moving, not because of magic but because she was hallucinating. She just wanted this day to be over. Slinking back into the nearest corner, Hermione plopped down and waited for the dizziness to abate. From her clutch she withdrew a razor blade. Taking a deep breath to prepare her for the sting, she pressed down through her dress on her left arm.
Yes, he had followed her. He did it without much thought, preferring to not think about what the connotations were. He rounded the corner to see that Hermione had disappeared. Before he could take another step, something glinted in the far corner. Without delay, he eliminated the distance and crouched down to pluck the blade from her hand.
"Don't you have enough scars?" Hermione's shocked eyes darted all over his face, trying to process his quick movements. Once her brain caught up, her face hardened.
"Haven't you given me enough?" Her comment stung. Here he was trying to help her when he had no reason too. She was making him deal with her messes by going and being an emotional disaster. If she wasn't such enigma then he wouldn't have had to suss out her story. Especially because his social calendar was lacking as of late, he needed some form of entertainment. Forget her. He dropped the blade on the ground and returned to standing. If she was going to act like this, he would just remove himself. Hermione gripped the wall to help her stand up, just to yell at him from an upright position, no doubt. However once had, she lost her angry stare. Her already pale skin lost all color and her eyes closed. Knees buckled as she fainted, on top of Draco. If it wasn't for his Quidditch reflexes she would have toppled both of them over.
"Granger?" Draco was tapping her cheek, trying to get some reaction. She would probably wake up in a minute but if Draco brought in an unconscious Granger, he would be killed. Acting through shock, he levitated her over to the closest classroom. The only available space was the floor because the desk was only four feet long; Granger was short, but not that short. Next, he found the arm that she had cut. Blood leaked off of her arm onto the floor. This cut appeared to be more superficial but it was still bleeding. He healed her for the second time this month, wondering if there would be a third.
AN: Hey, this is a little rough. I'll come back and smooth over some of the rougher parts. I'm trying to keep the story alive though! Reviews would help encourage me for another chapter if I haven't lost you with this one. :)