a/n: Helloo, I have a long-ass chapter for you guys this time, at least in comparison to my previous chapters, and I'm pretty proud of myself tbh. Also, I'm on vacation and don't have my laptop with me so I'm posting this from my phone. If it looks different than my other chapters, please forgive me.
Chapter 10:
Saturday afternoon found Hermione in her usual place by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, trying to force her friends to concentrate on the Essay they were supposed to write. They were more intent on discussing Ron's new development with a certain Lavender Brown involving a heated snogging session in the girl's bathroom. "How in hell did you even end up in the girl's bathroom?" Ginny was just asking him to as she shifted her weight and settled into a more comfortable position against Harry. They were leaning against each other side by side, with Ginny's head perched on Harry's shoulder and his leg settled in her lap. Hermione marveled at the way they casually showed their affection towards each other. They didn't cling to each other desperately like most of the couples at Hogwarts did, they merely enjoyed each other's presence and talked as normal friends would, occasionally giving quick kisses or ruffles of each other's hair. Or at least that's what they did when in public. They're like an old married couple, she though to herself bemusedly. "She kind of called me from inside," Ron told them, excited by the sudden unexpected attention. "What a naughty little girl she is." This came from Harry, earning him the laughs of Ginny, himself and Hermione and a scowl from Ron. "Don't call her that," he said moodily, his freckled face darkening. "Hey mate, I was just joking," Harry said, punching his arm playfully. This didn't help the situation in any manner and Ginny quickly piped up with yet another question to loosen the tension. "So she just lead you into the bathroom and then proceeded to snog you senseless?"
"Well, no. First she asked me if she'd ever told me how my eyes reminded her of the sea and my hair reminded her of sand and that I was the ocean of her soul. Then, she kind of pushed me up against the wall and said: 'You're so sexy when you blush'- he tried to imitate her version of a seductive voice, lowering his voice and adding gruesome facial expressions- and then she proceeded to snog me senseless." There was a moment of silence as they all took a second to process this new progression of the story, and then all erupted in laughter, even Ron, leaning against each other and wiping away tears of laughter. "Oh, that's wonderful," Harry said, gasping for breath and holding his stomach. "How poetic of her," Hermione added, wiping away the last of her tears. "She's creative, I'll give her that," Ginny agreed, brushing away the ginger hairs that had escaped her ponytail.
Hermione watched as Harry's eyes followed Ginny's hands and lingered on her hair, a smile twitching at his mouth. "I personally liked it," Ron said, the laughter still thick in his voice. "It seemed, I don't know, passionate." Although he said it with a chuckle and the same air the others had, sarcastic and amused, Hermione could sense there was a certain truth to his words and she gave him a small knowing smile. He smiled back, his face flushed from laughter and the heat of his proximity to the fire. Hermione sat back and watched as her friends continued exchanging jokes and bits of gossip, their scrolls of parchment and feathers lying forgotten and abandoned on the floor before them. She felt that odd sensation one feels when everything feels okay, as if it's the last page of the book and the evil was defeated and life would now advance normally and pleasantly, with no worries or troubles to interfere in it's way.
Later, Hermione wondered if the events that followed were the world's cruel way of reminding her that it was reality she was living in, not fantasy.
Draco tried to silence his moans of pain as he threw open the wooden doors of the castle and hurried outside. He barely noticed the sharp wind that blew around him as he finally let himself stop for a breath and look up at his surroundings. There was no one outside, everyone was busy in the Great Hall, enjoying a peaceful dinner while he was stuck out here, shivering in the evening wind -that, now that he wasn't anxious to get outside, was very noticeable, unfortunately- and feeling jabs of the gnawing hunger now creeping into his stomach. Draco grunted in pain as he glanced down to look at his left wrist, where his faint scar was glowing a bright red. He could feel the magic pulsing under his skin- the cause of the sharp stinging
that had taken over his lower left arm. He started walking towards the lake, trying to take his mind of the pain. He could faintly hear the chattering and clinking of forks against plates drifting from the high glass windows of the Great Hall, from where he had just fled. Draco felt frustration build inside his chest as he neared the lake and started walking along side it. No matter how hard he tried to act like everything was normal, like he was just like every other student attending Hogwarts, there was always something distancing him from the normality he craved. It could be physical evidence, hence said scar, or rather the nightmares that haunted his sleep and kept him awake for hours a night, it didn't matter. He would never be able to mingle with those people, because he simply wasn't like them, and they weren't ones to come up and chat with a former Death Eater on a regular basis. Not that he was any different. Why would you want to be like those naive idiots, stuck in their own innocent daydreams of a perfect world? I'd much rather know what to expect than live in denial for the rest of my life, a voice hissed in his head. But he knew, in the back of his mind, that the voice was just trying to fill the void of jealousy that swirled inside him. A sudden jab of pain pulled him from his thoughts and back to reality. Draco noticed that he was nearing an area of trees and decided that he was far enough from the Castle, not wanting to get too close to the woods. He stood there for a moment, taking in the view. The water of the lake mirrored the light indigo sky and from the way he faced it (the lake), it seemed as if there wasn't a soul for miles, no houses or lights to interfere with the velvety water and the inky sky that melted into it. It was a beautiful view, one he would've enjoyed if he was in the mood, which he rarely was. He fought the urge to touch his wrist, to clasp it with his other hand and apply pressure. He'd tried that once, during one of his first experiences with the stinging, a desperate attempt at lowering the amount of pain, and it didn't have any positive affect on the stinging, only worsened it due to the heat coming off his skin. He lightly brushed his thumb across the scar, closing his eyes and allowing the first memories to develop in his mind. Just as the first one was beginning to play, as if it was one of those muggle movies he'd heard about, a soft voice spoke his name and the memory was temporarily forgotten .
"Draco?" He opened his eyes and peered at her. "Hermione," he addressed her, moving the hand she had just seen him oddly stroke and crossing his arms across his chest.
"Are you alright?" she asked him, shivering in the autumn wind. She noticed Draco's cheeks were red from cold. "I'm fine," was his cool answer. "I mean, what are you doing here?" She could tell her questions irked him, but the boy could freeze here to death. "Quite a lot of things, I suppose. Standing, for one. Looking at the lake, trying to fend off your annoying questions, thinking of how if I jumped into the lake I would be doing everyone a favor-" He had started counting off on his fingers. Hermione sighed exasperatedly. She thought they were over this ridiculous bickering phase. Just a few days ago she had joined him in the Library for homework and it had reminded her of the old days when they used to hide out in the Library for hours, studying and making ludicrous plans to take over the planet. Obviously, this meeting had been a little less chatty but it was a great improvement to the awkward silence or the pointless bickering that had preceded it. Draco had not taken notice of this step up, it seemed. "Whatever, I was just concerned, but your arrogant, self-pitying comment has calmed me down considerably." She turned to leave but caught a glimpse of a suspicious red mark on Draco's wrist, where his left arm was resting by his side. Before he could think to react, Hermione snatched his arm and examined his wrist. She didn't get a good look because he immediately pulled his arm back with a sharp: "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" but it wasn't hard to fill in the gaps. "Draco!" she said sternly. "What? What do you want?" was his angry response. "What was that?" her voice not exactly soft either. He didn't answer. That was all she needed. "Have you been cutting yourself?"
"No! What? No, it's nothing like that!" Draco's voice rose a few octaves.
"Then what's it like then?"
"It's none of your business."
"I think it is."
"And what would give you that idiotic idea?"
"I just think that you wouldn't appreciate me going with this information to the Headmast-Headmistress."
"Why would you do that?" Draco's face was confused and slightly hurt.
"Because, it's dangerous."
It was obvious he had imagined a different reason. "I'm not cutting myself, alright? Just let it go," he said, softening a bit. "Then what was that? I know I saw something," Hermione said stubbornly. Draco looked down, avoiding the question once again. "Alright then, off to the Headmistress I go," she said, with full intention of doing just that. "Wait, Hermione!" Just hearing him say her name like that made her skin crawl. She smiled with satisfaction at her victory before turning around and walked back the few paces she had walked before the Slytherin surrendered. She looked at him expectantly and crossed her arms across he chest. "You can't tell anyone about this." She nodded. "No, Hermione, I mean it. Not anyone. Do you understand?" He looked into her eyes and she could feel her face become warm before he quickly looked away. "Yeah. Yeah, I understand," she muttered, eventually. Draco sighed and brought out his left wrist, shoving up his robes. Hermione stifled a gasp at the sight of the bright red Dark Mark. It looked itchy and infectious. It looked downright painful. "I feel like I'm having deja vu," she said, realizing at the last moment that this was really not the time for jokes. "Why is it like that?"
"It happens every few weeks or so. When You-Know-Who disappeared, in the time between Potter's parents's death and You-Know-Who's rebirth in our Fourth year, the Dark Mark's color faded on the Death Eaters's skin and came back to full color when he...when he came back to life. After he died, it slowly turned into a scar. But the magic remained in their-our-bodies. It shows up every now and then, which is what you see now. In the beginning it was much more frequent. It showed up every week at least. But as time went on, it became less frequent and now it happens only every few weeks. I'm hoping it will eventually disappear all together, but I doubt it." He had started the speech looking at her, but as he went on his eyes strayed to the lake and then to the scar and settled there. He now let his arm fall to his side and stared vaguely at the ground, awaiting some kind of reaction. Hermione took a moment to process all this information before proceeding with a question. "Does it hurt? I mean, do you feel anything when it happens?"
"It stings, mostly. Well, that's the physical part," Draco replied, knowing what the next question would be and dreading it. "What other part is there?" Hermione asked, concerned and morbidly curious, more than she liked to think. She could see him squirming uncomfortably at the question, and felt the sudden urge to back down and tell him it was alright if he didn't want to say. But truthfully, she was too curious to do such a thing and she felt her usual excitement at learning something new and the desperate need to know everything about it, to study it from every angle. And also, she felt an odd pleasure at seeing the Slytherin squirm this way. He so rarely showed any signs of uncertainty or vulnerability, it gave her a sense of control and dominance, something she wouldn't admit to anyone, hardly to herself. "It...it brings up memories, I guess. Well, that's the simple way to say it." He glanced to see if she was listening, then resumed his intent staring contest with the ground. "It's not like I look at it and it brings back memories. More like they kind of show up in my head without my thinking about them. It also impacts my moods, makes me angrier and easily provoked."
She smirked. "Yeah, I've surprisingly gathered that much myself."
Hermione thought he might be blushing, but his cheeks were already red with the cold so it was hard to tell. "Sorry," he muttered, hardly audible. Hermione opened her mouth in mock disbelief. "Was that, was that an apology?" Draco fixed her with a death stare, but she didn't let it intimidate her. The boy could hardly do anything to her now, and she knew he wasn't actually angry. She suddenly realized they were still in the same position they had started in, standing a few feet apart in front of the lake. The sky had darkened since she first stepped outside and had turned a blackish blue, though no stars were visible due to the clouds that outlined the darkness. Draco, seeing that his expression was not taking on the effect he desired, gave an exasperated sigh. "How did you even find me here? Were you planning on a nice, calming, self-destructive stroll in this ridiculous weather?" Hermione cringed. It was her turn to stare at the ground. "To be honest, I was following you." She looked up to meet Draco's incredulous expression and hurried on. "You didn't look that great when you left- or, practically fled- the Great Hall. Merlin knows no one else would have gone to see if you were alright, so I took it upon my self to see that you weren't offing yourself or something of the sort." All this was said in a flustered hurried manner, and Hermione had to take a small breath when she finished. She looked up to see Draco's expression and was met with an amused smirk. "Wow Hermione, it almost sounds as if you were worried about me," he said wryly. "Don't get your hopes up," she muttered, embarrassed at having had her feelings pointed out at her. Neither had anything more to contribute to the conversation at the moment so they fell back to the silence that was a pretty common factor in their conversations. It was now that Hermione realized how cold she was. Her teeth began chattering uncontrollably and she noticed Draco's lips were positively blue with cold. He squirmed and looked down at his wrist. Draco began rubbing his thumb against the scar, just as she'd seen him doing before. Hermione's eyebrows scrunched together with worry and she watched as his eyes drifted close. His eyelids twitched and she understood she was watching the process of his memories "showing up in his head"- as he described it. She didn't know if she should wake him-if that were the word- or leave him be. It was as if the skies had become impatient with her, because suddenly a drop of water fell on her arm and was followed by many more drops. Hermione panicked and quickly took hold of Draco's shoulder. She shook it gently. "Draco!" His eyes flew open and he quickly took notice of the rain that was surrounding them and seeping through their clothes. It was still a gentle shower, but they both knew it was a matter of time before it would descend to a violent storm that they would be caught in if they didn't move. They began running towards the castle doors, the rain drenching their hair and blurring their eyesight. Hermione yanked open the door and held it open as Draco hurried inside. She followed him and let the door violently shut after them. There was hardly anyone in the Entrance Hall, everyone having finished dinner long ago and now in their respective Common Rooms or dorms, or rather at the Library finishing homework. Only Slughorn walked past them, having just finished his dinner, as he usually did, some time after everyone else finished. He watched them amusedly as they bent over, breathing heavily and dripping on the stone floor, before disappearing around the corner in the direction of the Staffroom, his footsteps echoing in the silent halls.
Hermione finally caught her breath and straightened up. She examined the boy next to her, who had yet caught his breath and was still bent over, his hands on his knees. His blonde hair had refused to darken over the years and remained a light yellow, which was now glistening with drops of water that dripped onto the floor. Even as his body was hunched she could see how thin he was, his robes hanging from him like a draped blanket. After a few seconds he straightened as well and caught her staring at him. She quickly looked away, face becoming too warm for comfort, though she had been craving warmth just mere seconds ago. She glanced back at him to see if he was still looking at her, and saw that indeed he was. She didn't look away this time and forced herself to stay put, though it made her squirm with awkwardness. A drop of water was sliding down his cheek like a tear, fallen from the hair that was flopping in his eyes. She resisted the urge to brush the hair away, then thought, why not, and reached out. The hair jumped back and Hermione snorted, ruining the moment. They stared at each for a few more moments until it became ridiculous. "It's almost curfew," she said, not knowing at all what the time was. "Yeah," Draco said, looking as if he hardly heard what she said. "Well, feel better, I guess," she said lamely and turned towards the marble staircase leading up as Draco walked past it on his way to the staircase leading down.
