Hi guys! I hope you all like this, it's a tad angsty but what else is new aha please please review they make my day! As always, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling!
"Draco what the actual FUCK is wrong with you?" Theo burst through the door, fury pulsing in the vein on his forehead. He had been bringing Draco's meals for the past week without speaking more than a few words. Something told the blonde that Hermione had finally spoke with someone about what he had called her when she'd come to inform him of Pansy's death.
"Well that took long enough." He feigned indifference as he looked up from his seat at the desk across from his bed. "Did precious Granger finally tell someone all her dirty little secrets? Did you share gossip over popcorn at a slumber party? And to think I wasn't even invited."
"Oh will you stop with this shite Malfoy?" Theo threw the plate carrying his dinner across the room and didn't even watch for it to smash against the wall. His gaze was fixed onto Draco's, silver staring into blue, trying to find some hint of the other within. "We both know that you don't believe in the evil that is attached to that word anymore," he raised his lips in an almost cruel smile, "and I'm not fucking blind. I saw the way you were looking at her, I see what is happening here."
Draco desperately tried to hide the shock at his former friends' words. When had Theo even seen the two of them together? He was forcefully reminded of the time he'd burst in on them, almost two months ago, when he'd been dangerously close to kissing one of the biggest figure heads for the light side of the war. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Theo let out a humorless laugh, "like I said. I'm not blind – and I'm not dumb." He paused, "look have any fucking feelings you want for her, she's oblivious to them and from what I can tell, so are you. But don't take your anger out on one of the only god damned people in this house that can somehow find something redeeming about you."
"Aw and who are the other people that want to throw me a pity party, Theo? Are you one of them? Leader of the fan club?"
"Fuck no. Because of trying to protect your precious feelings, the love of my life was nearly killed." Pain flitted across Theo's features, but then Draco blinked and it was gone, "and now you use that word against one of my best friends? A word, may I fucking remind you, is carved into her skin!"
"May I remind you," Draco spoke dangerously low, venom laced into his eyes, "that while one of your best friends merely got their feelings hurt, mine is dead. And may I be ever so kind to remind you that the former 'love of your life' is also dead." Draco put a finger up to his lips, feigning thought, "oh wait that's right, they're the same fucking person! Or have you been so quick to forget where your original loyalties lay Theo? Do you really have no sympathy for the death of the woman you once claimed to love, unconditionally and without abandon?"
Theo grasped the bridge of his nose in exasperation and let out a sigh, "Draco lets not go there."
"No old friend, lets."
"We were kids back then Draco, in school and oblivious to the realities of the world."
"It was two fucking years ago, Nott. Were we really such kids, so different than we are now? By that twisted logic, I could claim I was a child a week ago and therefore really shouldn't be held responsible for what I said or did –"
"Draco for the love of fucking god, do you ever shut up?" Theo threw up his hands, "you really don't see it do you? You've been so manipulated, so primed to believe whatever he wanted you to, whatever served him best. You talk about twisted logic but you haven't even begun to examine your own!" he took a breath before continuing, "yes, I left Pansy when I turned traitor to the dark side. Yes, I once loved her, and yes I am sorry it hurt her and hurt you that I left, but for fucks sakes when are you going to realize that Pansy, Goyle's father, Crabbe, and every other person we once knew signed their own fucking death sentence the moment they became servants for that lunatic? When are you going to swallow the planet-sized lump that is your pride and accept the fact that your good old pal Voldemort did not lose a second of sleep over the death of Pansy Parkinson? That every single person fighting for him are like pawns: expendable, and worthless."
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, threatening to choke the both of them. "Get out, Nott."
"Gladly."
Hermione sat awkwardly in the infirmary while Pomfrey examined her exposed wrist, occasionally tapping her wand against the scarred skin. Harry and Ron sat on either side of her, with Ginny furiously pacing a few feet away from him.
"I cannot believe you didn't tell us sooner!" The youngest Weasley roared, "He is not allowed to speak to you like that Hermione, and to use that word! I am livid, I should go up there and talk to him –"
"Ginny love?" Harry interrupted. She whipped her head in his direction, her hair matching the fire in her eyes. "I don't think this is helping." He gestured to Hermione who looked as though she was lost, staring down at her wrist and barely blinking.
Ginny's expression softened and he went over to rub her friends' back. "We can have someone else take care of him, Hermione. Theo can take it up long term."
The aforementioned Theo walked into the infirmary at that moment, shaking his head. "It's a miracle I haven't thrown that wanker out the window."
Ron laughed and gave Theo an approving clap on the back as he sat down. Everyone in the room – even Hermione – stopped what they were doing to look curiously over at the duo. The two had hated each other since Theo joined the Order over a year ago. Ron looked around as the shocked faces and shrugged, "What? We can all agree Malfoy is a wanker."
"He's hurting." Luna's voice turned every head in the room towards the door. "He just lost his best friend. At our hand. And we're keeping him locked up surrounded by people he was raised to hate. Not to mention, we're forcing him to answer questions that put the people he cares about at risk. How is anyone surprised he's snapped?" She crossed her arms, "and as far as snapping goes, this wasn't even that bad. He's not an idiot. He could have learned wandless magic and hurt someone, he could have tried to hurt her or Theo. But he hasn't."
"That doesn't exactly excuse him being an absolute git though, Luna." Harry said.
"How would you feel if someone on the dark side had just killed Hermione? Then on top of that, were keeping you locked up and used information they forced out of you in order to find Hermione in the first place? Would you be kind to your captors? Patient?" Luna was one of the only Ravenclaws of the Order, and at this moment, it showed.
"He didn't get us the information on that safe house, you did!" Ron was standing, temper getting the best of him.
"And how did I get the knowledge of the safe house? Where did I obtain it? This all comes back to the Zabini house and us forcing him to tell the Order about it."
"They're the bad side though! Forgive us for trying to put a rest to the side run by an evil lunatic." Ginny's temper was quickly matching her brother's.
"Yes. Their leader is vile, and they are horrible. But they are still the people he's loved all his life, the people who got into his brain and tainted it with beliefs he probably doesn't even support anymore." It was the most Hermione had spoken in days. She'd been replaying the exchange between her and Draco for a week in her head. It interchanged between the moment she received her scar and the moment she erased her parent's memories, never to see them again. In a war of pain and sacrifices, she felt cheated, as though she'd given more of herself than others. She found herself understanding the emotions of someone she'd never intended to speak to again, understand what he'd given up, how desperately he missed his family. Her eyes locked with Luna's in support, "They are the bad side, but they are still his family. It doesn't excuse what he called me, it doesn't excuse what he or any of them have done, but it doesn't excuse what we have done either." She thought back to the months of time she'd spent with him, in the library, in his room, relearning what it meant to be a part of war, "we're all monsters in war, just because we are the less murderous monsters, it doesn't disguise what we've done."
"You're all crazy." Ginny whipped up her hands and marched out of the room.
"They're Death Eater's Hermione." Harry whispered.
"And they are horrible. I don't feel sympathy for them Harry, they chose their side, but I won't try to pretend we are guiltless in this either. They're evil, and I hope they rot in Azkaban, but they still have those that they love, everyone does." She laughed coldly for a moment, "well except Voldemort. I don't truly believe he's human."
"We can agree on that." Ron rubbed Hermione's back and Pomfrey finished looking over her wrist. Some scars, it seemed, simply could not heal.
October transformed into the rainy days of November and Draco found himself in the library for what felt like the millionth night in a row. Theo was still bringing his meals and the two did not speak. He found himself craving human interaction, specifically a human with warm brown eyes and more wit than the entire house put together. He looked over at the pile of discarded books next to his chair. He'd researched everything he could on wards and still could not figure out how his had gone down all those months ago.
The conclusion Draco had been forced to come to was that someone had to have personally taken down the wards while he was being tortured. There were only a select few with the authority at Malfoy Manor to disable the wards, and he had a sinking feeling he knew who it was. The suspects were either his father, Voldemort, or his mother. Anyone with a remaining brain cell could figure out who had done it, who had risked their life. Draco's blood pounded in his ears every time he let the reality sink in that he may never see his mother again.
The only thing that calmed his anxious heart was the promise to himself that he would figure out a way to get out of this headquarters and return to the Manor. He had to be sure, he had to do everything he could to find her and if she was still alive, to rescue her. Most days, he convinced himself she was still alive. Her husband, son, and sister were members of the inner circle; her home was a regular place of meeting for the dark lord and his followers, so surely he'd have mercy on her. Right?
The door to the library opened slowly and distracted him from his worried thoughts. Hermione poked her head in through the door before spotting him, biting her lip, and then walking through and closing the door behind her. He hadn't seen her in weeks, and he'd forgotten how beautiful she was, he felt like he couldn't breathe, too afraid of scaring her away. The image of hurt and fear painted across her features the last time he'd seen her was bleached into his memory, bright and demanding to be seen.
"I didn't think you'd be in here. It's three in the morning."
"Sleep doesn't exactly come easy to me."
She looked over at the pile of books next to him, suspicious creeping over her brow, "what are you researching?"
"The wards from the night you found me. I wanted to understand how and why they went down."
"And did you find your answer?"
"The 'how' part, still struggling with the 'why.'"
She looked down at her feet and grasped her wrist. She hated feeling this vulnerable around him again, as afraid as she'd been the day she'd brought him back to headquarters. Everything in his posture suggested anxiety as well, and she found herself hoping she wasn't the cause of it, that she wasn't the reason he struggled to sleep. She'd forgiven his outburst from weeks ago, more for her own mental health than his, but she hoped desperately that he'd forgive himself.
"I'm sorry your best friend died." She hadn't meant to say that, had meant to comment on the wards, and then suddenly the apology, the elephant in the room was stumbling out of her lips. His lips parted in shock and he held her gaze. His eyes beamed out grief across the room, chipping away at her resolve to remain cautious. To remember where he had come from, who he had surrounded himself with, and how he had risen to the top of the immoral side of the war. But, was there really a moral side in war? She wasn't sure.
"Granger," He stood and walked towards her. She subconsciously backed against the wall and so he stopped, not wanting to frighten her, "I'm sorry. For saying what I said, for hurting you. I truly am sorry." He had not intended to apologize, as much as the guilt from their last encounter weighed down his chest, his pride was usually heavier. But not with her, with her, his pride turned feather light, almost forgotten.
"You should be." She turned up her nose slightly, "I didn't deserve that."
"No, you didn't."
"However, I've already forgiven you. More for my sake than your own don't flatter yourself. But," she looked down for a moment before returning to look over his expression, "you were hurting. And if someone had killed Ron or Harry I – " She cut off, overcome with the pain that captured her breath.
Even the thought of losing them was too much, too real. She had already lost too much, had already watched the ones she loved lose parts of themselves. What she wanted more than anything, a hug from her mother, a whispered promise from her father that everything would be all right, she could never have. Her parent's faces flowed through her mind, and then Draco's when he'd found out about Pansy and suddenly she was searching for oxygen in a room that seemed devoid of air, hyperventilating for relief that felt as though it would never come.
Strong arms were suddenly wrapping around her middle and a soothing, cool voice was whispering in her ear, telling her to breathe. She felt light, as though her feet were hardly touching the ground. A pleasant warmth was spreading from where she was being held to the tip of her fingers and up through her lungs and then onto her cheeks. She realized the warmth on her cheeks was not from the embrace, but from the rushed tears she didn't know she'd released. She heard a shushing in her ear and the arms began to rock her back and forth, almost completely supporting her weight. In a moment of clarity, she finally took in a massive breath of air and began to return to her senses. The arms holding her were none other than Draco Malfoy's.
Her words had cut off and he'd seen the panic attack creeping up her shoulders, whispering anxiety into her ear. She'd struggled for breath for only a moment before he'd closed the distance between them and taken her into his arms. "Hermione. Hermione, you need to breathe, okay? Can you breathe for me love?" If she heard him, she was not making it known.
Her legs were giving out underneath her and his heart broke as ugly, breathless sobs escaped her chest. He didn't know what had brought on this sudden attack, but he was no stranger to hidden demons, coming out to play at the worst of times. He pressed his head against the side of hers, taking in her intoxicating scent. She smelled like lavenders and the pavement after it rains. He held her tighter, nearly carrying her at this point and began to shush into her ear while rocking back and forth. It was what his mother had always done when she'd come in to calm him from his nightmares as a child. He'd never had a night it didn't work.
She took a deep breath and righted her feet as he loosened his grip to allow her to stand on her own. He looked down at her face, red and puffy from the tears she still had slowly making their way down her cheeks. Her chest was rising and falling as she struggled to regain control of her body. "Maybe you should sit down?" She looked around confused at his voice and then finally, seemed to notice his arms around her. She tensed and he quickly pulled away, sensing he had crossed a boundary. "You had a panic attack Granger, and you're still coming down from it. You should sit." He took her hand into his and led her to the couch where she immediately slumped down.
They sat in silence, him worriedly glancing at her, and her, looking anywhere but at him. After a solid ten minutes of nothing but the sound of the rain pattering softly against the window, she spoke. "I'm sorry about that."
"Sorry? What? Granger that's nothing to be sorry for!"
"I don't know what came over me, I'm truly sorry." She felt a blush highlight her cheeks; she detested showing weakness, especially over absolutely nothing. She hadn't just lost her best friend. What right did she have to break down in the middle of a sentence?
"That damn Gryffindor pride of yours, I swear. There's nothing to be sorry about, everyone has bad nights."
"Oh because your pride is just miniscule right?" She smiled slightly.
"Well I don't know what you're talking about, I'm the most humble person I've ever met."
She snorted and shook her head, "You didn't have to do that you know."
"Don't worry about it. My way of making up for a few weeks ago." The memory of their argument came crashing down on her, she felt like she was drowning in the waves of it.
"Do you believe in that anymore? In what that word holds, in what your friends and family believe?" She sighed, "I felt that for sure you didn't, but then after your outburst, the spite that seeped from you voice…I didn't know what to think."
"No. No I don't believe in any of that shite, to be honest I'm not sure I ever did."
"Oh c'mon now, don't lie."
"It's true! You try having a father who will beat you the moment you show sympathy for anyone that isn't a pureblood, or the moment you come home with lower grades than the infuriatingly smart muggle born in your year." He smiled at her but she did not return it.
"Beat you?"
His stomach sank. What was it with this girl and him letting down all his bloody walls? What the fuck was wrong with him? First, he was practically hugging her and whispering in her ear and now he was delving into the sob story that was his past. Once he got a handle on the wandless magic he'd been practicing, his first mission would be to cast a silencing spell whenever she entered the room.
"it doesn't matter, Granger. Drop it."
"Doesn't matter?!" She tried standing in protest but he practically saw the black spots that entered her vision as she hastily sat again, "of course it matters! He's a monster!"
"It's just how it goes in pureblood households, traditionalism and all that."
"That's not tradition, it's abuse!"
"Look, we can't all have perfect dads who tuck us in at night and make us tea in the morning. We can't all be you, Granger." She felt as though she could physically see him building the brick wall around himself, protecting himself from feeling too much.
"I don't have perfect parents."
"Oh please, don't try to make me feel better. I'm sure they send you letters twice a week with their love. It's okay, I've accepted that I got the short straw when it came to a father. My mother made up for it, so don't you worry." He smirked but noticed she now held a faraway look in her eyes.
"I should go to sleep." Before he could blink, she was off the couch, "Goodnight Draco. Thank you for tonight." The door shut softly behind her as he continued to stare confused at the couch where her figure had just been. Perhaps the Golden Girl's life hadn't been as golden as he thought.
Ahh sorry I know this was a pretty sad chapter, but what can I say, I love angst lol thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far they make me want to write so much more! Please leave a review and let me know what you think so far! Thanks!