Where is the Line?
The prefects had taken an early dinner in anticipation to the general meeting to be held after they had had their fill. Six prefects from every house came into a large classroom, which had been converted to a prefects' lounge the past year. Everyone sat comfortably on their chosen seats. Hermione stood in the centre along with Head Boy, Terry Boot, waiting for the prefects to settle down. She counted off four from Gryffindor, Harry, Ron, Ginny and another fifth year Gryffindor female were present. Ravenclaw had Padma Patil, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Lisa Turpin. Hufflepuff included Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones, Wayne Hopkins and Ernie Macmillan. Slytherin included Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Graham Pritchard (fifth year) and…where was Draco? She felt her brows furrow a bit butt she paid no attention to it.
Nott was looking at her curiously to see if she would react to Draco's absence. Ron's gaze kept on shifting at various objects and people but never on Hermione. He was fidgety and Harry snapped at him to stop kicking his chair. Hermione paid no attention to this and only breathed in normally after seeing Draco enter the room quietly, taking a seat behind Theodore Nott. She took another breath and walked for a chalkboard, flicking the chalk once to write their suggestions. The chalk flew to the topmost part of the board, poised to write.
"Right, you do know why all of you are here. As per request by majority of the students, we've come up with a Valentine's Day Ball to be held the day after the last exams."
Some of the female prefects nodded excitedly and the rest of the population groaned. Hermione took another breath, hoping she wouldn't show her feeble enthusiasm to the prefects.
Terry stepped in. "Don't groan on us. I'm quite sure most of us will enjoy it as the night progresses."
"That's for sure," Michael Corner sniggered.
Ginny rolled her eyes, knowing full well what a snogger Corner was as she had dated him back in her fifth year. Harry saw this and had a teasing glimmer in his eye. Ginny shoved him playfully with her lips pouted.
"Anyway," Terry continued, "This is a definitive moment for our batch. I believe we are the first to hold such a ball on Valentine's. The Great Hall shall be transformed of course. Suggestions, anyone?"
Padma raised a hand. "It'll still be cold. How's about a winter themed Valentine's ball?"
"A what?" Terry shook his head, trying to digest her idea.
"You know, instead of red all over, try silver and white but the hearts and stuff should still be there, with hints of red and pink only?" Padma said in a smaller voice this time.
There was a murmur of agreement. Even Ginny seemed to agree and she was so finicky over matters like décor and clothing, even tattoos. Hermione stayed silent. The prefects would have the last say, of course and not her. The suggestions went on and on until they had agreed to the major parts of the ball.
"The drinks?" Nott suddenly said, the first Slytherin to break silence.
"Punch," Ernie immediately said.
Nott sniggered. "Do you want me to spike them up with-"
"Alcohol is out of the question," Terry told him.
"Butterbeer?" Hannah chimed in.
"We always have that," Ginny told her. "I suppose a bit of alcohol wouldn't hurt, this ball is only for those beyond fifth year anyway. We'll just have to ask Madam Rosmerta's help for that, right?"
Most of the male prefects clapped enthusiastically. Leave it to Ginny, Hermione mused as she smiled a bit. The chalk wrote the approved parts for the ball. The board was nearly filled, with various assignations, from food and drinks, to accepted formal wear and music (they were inclined to hire the Weird Sisters once more) to the set up of the Great Hall's tables and décor.
"Could we extend curfew?"
Terry nodded. "McGonagall's approved of this. Instead of the usual midnight, she's been kind enough for us to hold it until two in the morning."
Some prefects cheered or hooted.
"That's wonderful," Ron muttered inaudibly.
The grandfather clock struck loudly, signaling that it had turned eight in the evening. Terry looked at the clock then looked at Hermione, and finally to the prefects.
"I guess that's all then," Terry said. "Good luck to us all for the exams."
The prefects shuffled out, each animatedly talking to fellow housemates about a few other tweaks that could be done with the remaining time they had left, wondering if they could deliver a smashing party with such rigid examinations scheduled. Terry nodded ahead to Hermione who had chosen to stay to copy down the notes written on the board with the aid of a Quick-Quotes Quill (minus the exaggeration).
She heard someone shuffle inside the room.
Draco stood at the doorway, looking at her, suddenly missing her company terribly, so terribly he thought he'd break protocol by rushing to her and just giving her a full mouthed kiss.
She stared back at him, her wavy hair looking soft against the multitude of candles surrounding her. She didn't say anything; for fear that someone might hear them or pop in unexpectedly. But she longed to be closer to him, longed for that few steps to seal in. She hadn't spoken to him and thought it was torture. He was so close but she couldn't even lay a hand on his robes at all.
Draco cleared his throat and said, "Good night."
It was brief and simple, cordial- yet it was a stab at the heart for them both. Two words to sum up days of separation. It was a strange form of torture; only being away from people could they truly act normally. Hermione nodded once and Draco spun around, his footsteps echoing in the halls until it altogether disappeared.
She stayed inside the room for a few more minutes and had begun to gather her things when someone else entered the room. She looked up and saw the one person she didn't expect. Almost immediately, memories came flooding through her, memories filled with hurt and resentment. She didn't say anything; her hands had gone rather cold.
"Hermione," Ron began.
"Yes?" she said near callously, spinning around to resume packing the notebooks and quills inside her messenger bag.
"We need to talk."
"Talk," Hermione repeated, still not looking at him. "That's rather funny."
"Look at me!" he said, nearly losing his temper.
Hermione faced him, her arms folded in front of her, her look impassive. "You're the one to boss me around, you of all traitors."
"I didn't betray you. At least I didn't mean to." "That's rich!" she scoffed. Ron looked offended. "At least that part of me has wealth, eh?" "If you have nothing else to say-"
"I'm sorry!"
Hermione stopped in place. Sorry. She had only heard of this apology tonight. He hadn't apologized last year, none at all. Perhaps it was because she didn't give him the chance, or perhaps he was too ashamed to express regret in front of the whole Hogwarts population. But he had said 'sorry'.
"Hermione," Ron began. "We kind of grew apart over the last school year. And- Lavender began sending me her regards once more over the summer."
"But we were still together..." she said, not meaning for her voice to tremble.
"I've racked my brains that summer, figuring out who I wanted-"
"Like you own us, like you own me-"
"Want, need, they're the same. But I swear to you, I wanted to die, choosing something that was crucial to my emotional-"
"Like you're the only bloody one who's got emotions!" Hermione spat out, feeling the hatred simmer once more. She had thought she had forgotten about this, when Draco had been around. Ron was some distant thing of the past. Draco would make her feel better. How she needed him now!
"I'm sorry. I regret what I've done!" he finally said, sounding overwhelmed. He threw his hands up in the air and leaned against a table. "Regret, Hermione. That's how I feel right now. I'm sure you must've heard that me and Lavender-"
"Lavender and I," Hermione corrected testily.
"Lavender and I," Ron repeated, "That she and I had broken up over Christmas break."
"And what does that have to do with me?"
"Everything. I want you back," Ron said quickly, his eyes staring at the floor.
Hermione paused her breathing. He wanted her back? It was that simple. Want. Yes, men could want, women could want. Want love, want company and want forgiveness. But did she want him back? She wanted something else. Something better...she shook her head, trying to recall the instances that she had felt she loved him, that they had pure fun together. She shut her eyes, straining her memory. Yes, there were a few moments that were worth giving up her life for. "Are you daft? Do you think it's that easy to waltz back into my life when you walked out on it last year?"
"It wasn't easy for me either. I wasn't really sure, really a hundred percent sure if I was making the right decision."
"As usual."
"Bloody hell, Hermione!" he said near exasperation, nostrils flaring. Reasoning had always proved a challenge with Hermione as a girlfriend. Arguments were different with Lavender. Lavender was irrational and reckless, with Hermione- there was no way out. He knew he was almost always wrong every time they got into fights.
Hermione's eyes changed into a steelier tone. Her mouth drew into a thin line and her back stiffened. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight, trying to control herself before she could say something damaging.
"Was everything that horrible with me?" Ron asked her quietly.
Hermione opened her eyes and leaned against the wall. "Not everything, Ron."
"We've had some good times."
"Some."
"You don't love me anymore, do you?" Ron asked, plucking the courage to do so. His face had gone redder than his hair. He took a seat, facing Hermione with his hands clasped in front as he looked at her.
Hermione sighed, suddenly not knowing what to say. This was still her friend, no matter what they had gone through. The strength of their friendship bagged her down. She felt old and dying all of a sudden. Was it really that difficult to say no to love and yes to friendship? They had started out as friends, after all.
"Ron," Hermione began slowly, in a softer tone, "You don't call on the past to make the present and future better. I learned it the hard way. I have to move on; you have to do that too."
"I still love you," Ron mumbled.
It caught Hermione off guard. For Ron to say such a damnable thing! Her heart pounded and suddenly warmer recollections came rushing through her…Ron poisoned with mead on his birthday…she had stayed with him till he was back to good health…Ron batting out against who ever called her Mudblood…Ron saying her name in his sleep…Ron rescuing her from every adventure they had together with Harry…Ron…Hermione stopped. That was the past. He had hurt her too and she had paid the piper. She said nothing. Instead she picked up her bag and walked past him. Ron's hand shot out to grab her arm. He stood, towering over her. He let go of her arm.
"Hermione," Ron sighed. "How easy is it for you to let go of all that's happened to us?"
Hermione flinched. "Good night, Ron."
And she left Ron standing alone in that dark and cold classroom, wondering why she had gotten quickly over him and wondering why she didn't bother to cry at that moment.
Hermione walked up to the staircase leading to Gryffindor tower in tears. She had done her best not to cry in front of him and had effectively done so. It had not been easy. She was crying quietly, her tears dropping in successive motion down to her face and on the stone floor. She took a pause, two more steps before the landing, deciding not to enter the Common Room.
She had to get away from the Gryffindor tower tonight. Someone might see, someone might ask. So she walked another way, on another staircase leading to the right. Some of the portraits coughed, seeing her face in tears. They turned their backs in respect to the Head Girl. Hermione did not care where her feet were leading her. She was thinking of what Ron had said. He said he stilled loved her? He still bloody loved her! Suddenly her whole body was shivering, some uncontrollable reaction to the weight of her pain. She hugged herself as she walked, thinking it was the cold, assuming it was the cold. She looked like a sad figure walking alone on one long corridor, not realizing she was walking up to the eighth floor.
She stopped, realizing she had never strayed to this part of the castle during night. She had passed by this area a few times, but never gave it much thought. Standing on one stone ledge with a single torch lit behind her, she saw four doors surrounding the spiral staircase leading to the turret. Tentatively she took a step forward, hoping she wouldn't break any school rules. She couldn't remember this part being off limits to anyone. There were a few glass windows surrounding the staircase, some with cracked parts, rendering Hermione to feel colder than ever. Now standing in the centre of the turret, she saw the four doors on eye level, all ordinary looking doors fashioned from some old and sturdy dark wood. She had known this part was for discarded furniture and other school items deemed unusable. She wondered all of a sudden if she could convert one into a private study room.
She chose one door and opened it. A gust of biting wind rushed past her, a broken window the cause of it. She closed the door quickly, feeling her face go a bit numb with the sudden cold. Facing another door, she chose one beside the door she had first opened. It was a dark empty room filled with cobwebs on the ceiling. The windows were shut with boards. This could make a good escape room, she thought. She closed the door and proceeded for the next one. It had a broken window and frost was forming inside. She closed it, the cold sinking into her skin.
The last door looked the same as the first three. Reaching for the handle, she found it was locked. She pulled and pushed. Then she resorted to a charm. Still, it didn't budge. She frowned. How could a door not open with the spell she gave? It was a standard door opener, unless someone made a stronger spell to ward off unwanted students. Relishing a little mystery, Hermione became determined to open the last door. She tiptoed to see if there were hidden enchantments on the upper corners of the door. There were none. Then she bent down and traced her fingers lightly against the door, her wand glowing brightly. She saw tiny writings on the bottom of the door, runes to be exact. She could write and read them if her life depended on it. Smiling, she read the long and nearly unreadable text in a whisper.
whitest of grain;
it is whirled from the vault of heaven
and is tossed about by gusts of wind
and then it melts into water
She stopped and wondered what this was. She was sure she had read this somewhere. It was a riddle of sorts. But a trip to the library would prove too risky and tiring tonight. She stood up and wondered if the process of getting in was the same as the cave Draco showed her. Standing up, she was about to raise her wand when she heard the sound of shoes shuffling.
Draco stood his eyes wide open with shock. Who the hell-? Hermione! His jaw hardened and his eyes narrowed. Hermione spun around, her face looking perplexed why Draco suddenly appeared here of all places. Draco's look softened.
"Hermione," he said, rushing for her and holding her shoulders gently. "What are you doing here?"
Hermione blinked, suddenly overwhelmed that she had been alone, absorbed in her little distraction and that Draco came to what? Walk around here?
"I- I was walking around."
"Alone?" he frowned. "Why are your eyes red? Who upset you?"
She shook her head. "Something got into my eye. I wanted to clear my mind off of things, exams are getting pushy-" she laughed.
"Here?" he asked her, his brows rose.
"I didn't really notice where I was walking. I was so absorbed. Then I found these rooms and figured if one of them was empty, I could turn it into a study room…" she admitted, her voice trailing off.
Draco stared at her for a second and then he laughed. "Figures. You're thinking too much!"
Hermione grinned. "Sorry, you know how it is."
Suddenly, Draco's mood shifted and he embraced her tightly. "I've missed you."
Hermione was touched and she closed her eyes, enjoying Draco's display of affection. She embraced him back, happy to finally get an intimate moment with him. Then she stepped back with a cheerful glint in her eyes.
"Why are you here?" she laughed.
Draco smiled. "You're not the only one with a lot of things in their mind."
"That's company."
"But seriously, why did you cry?"
"Stress," she replied promptly, unable to protest that she didn't cry at all.
Draco gave a small grin. "Really now, you actually get stressed over studying? That's unheard of." And he laughed. "But I would have been reduced to tears given this pressure even if I had only half of your brain. Why don't we get out of here? This place is giving me the creeps…" he suggested.
Hermione laughed a bit. "You're actually scared of this place?"
"Actually, I'm more concerned for your wellbeing. The drafts are pretty strong here."
"It's the broken windows-"
"You've been inside the rooms?" he managed to sound normal.
"Just the three, the last one's locked," she pointed out to the door that had remained unopened.
Draco eyed the door and turned to face her, determined to show disinterest. "There's a reason some have broken windows or that some are locked. It's best we leave, Filch might catch us here and accuse us of abusing our 'powers'."
Hermione nodded, taking Draco's hand. With a relieved look that Hermione didn't see, they walked down and out of the turret. That was pretty close, Draco thought, determined to never let anyone near the tower ever again.
A/N: Till next! ^_^