11 Reasons General Theme: 11 Reasons why Draco and Hermione Belong Together
Pairing: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger
Title: The One Who Knows
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter
Word Count: 2308
Prompt: Table 2 (Emotions)—Anger
Notes: Many thanks to my betas, Z and eilonwy!
…
I will watch you struggle long, Before the answers come
But I won't make it harder. I'll be there to cheer you on
I'll shine the light that guides you down The road you're walking on.
ooo
The day before Lucius Malfoy was to receive the Dementor's Kiss, Draco went to visit him in prison. Hermione had been trying to convince him to go for weeks, ever since the date had been set at the conclusion of his long trial . She knew seeing Lucius would be hard for Draco, and likely painful, but she felt strongly that he needed to go. There were things he needed to say to his father, questions he needed to ask, and if he missed the chance to say and ask them, he would come to regret it. Hermione knew Draco—he didn't need any more regret hanging over him.
She offered to go with him, but he never committed to a day. He brushed her off and changed the subject as quickly as possible. When he finally went, she only found out because he sent her an owl that afternoon that said: It's done.
Hermione dropped everything and Apparated to his flat. The entire place was very dark and she nearly tripped over something in the middle of the floor. She lit her wand to see what it was and found a wad of robes, haphazardly discarded on the floor.
Draco kept his flat impossibly clean and orderly and never left anything out of place. Her concern grew as she made her way toward his bedroom. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed the entire flat looked as though it had been ransacked. There were clothes everywhere, things broken; it was an enormous mess. For an instant, she panicked, thinking someone had been here, that he was hurt—or worse.
Hermione had to stop in the hallway to collect herself. She shut her eyes and forced her breathing to slow, and she tried to tell herself everything was fine, everything was fine, everything was fine. She told herself he had made the mess; his wards were too good to be broken in a single day.
When she reached the bedroom door, she listened but heard nothing.
"Draco," she called, knocking softly. Nothing. "Draco," she called again, louder this time. Still nothing. When she called his name the third time, she thought she heard movement, but after waiting a few moments, there was no more sound. She tried the handle but he had locked the door.
"Draco, please, answer me," she said, nearly hysterical. "Just…say something, please. I'm not leaving until you talk to me."
The door opened slowly and she entered his room. It looked like the rest of the flat – dark and disheveled. Through the gloom, she could just make out a lump in the middle of his bed and she knew had to be Draco. She couldn't see any part of him, as he was entirely covered by bed clothes.
"Draco," she said, approaching the bed.
"What?" came a muffled, annoyed voice.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He didn't answer right away. "What kind of question is that?"
He was in a very bad mood, that much was obvious. Hermione stopped at the edge of the bed, close to the head. "You're right, I'm sorry. What happened?" she asked.
Another long pause before he answered. "I'm trying not to curse because you asked me to curse less."
Hermione waited for him to continue; after a while she realized he wasn't going to. She sighed. "Draco, look at me."
"No."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to."
She felt like slapping him. "Draco, I get that you're angry, upset, whatever, but that's no excuse to be rude."
"Again. Trying not to curse. And I don't really care if I'm being rude."
"Malfoy – "
"No. I get to do this," he said, still buried somewhere in the sheets. "I'm going to lie here and be hard and rude all I want. You have no idea what I'm going through – what I went through. I don't want you to know. I want to be left alone. I'm not going to talk about it, I'm not going to be accommodating. I'm going to be the selfish git I was born to be for as long as I want. And you don't get to turn it around and make me the bad guy." He paused. "Actually, sod it. I am the bad guy. So go whine and complain about it all you want. But leave me alone. Understand?"
Hermione was completely stunned. He'd never spoken to her like that before, never even raised his voice. When they fought, he was the quiet one and she was the loud one. Quick anger filled her, but she also knew that something must be terribly wrong for him to act this way.
But it still didn't give him the right to be angry with her—sheonly wanted to help—but she supposed, after all, he was due some self-pity.
Understanding this did not improve her mood, however. "Fine," she snapped. "You just lie there and wallow. I'll be in your spare room if you need anything." She crossed her arms and glared at the lump, silently daring him to challenge her.
"Okay," he finally said, sounding defeated.
She stormed from the room and though she wanted to slam the door, she didn't.
ooo
Draco didn't emerge the entire rest of the day or the next, the day Lucius received his punishment. Hermione wasn't terribly surprised. She slept in the room down the hall from his and spent her time reading. When an entire two days had passed, however, she became concerned. He hadn't had anything to eat or drink since the day he had gone to see his father.
Ron came over to bring Hermione a few potion ingredients she'd written him for and he stayed for an hour, talking with her about Draco. Ron was concerned, as was Hermione, but not nearly as much.
"He's just dealing with it differently than you would," he said. "Let him be."
He left when the potion was ready and she poured some of the thick, nourishing liquid into a glass.
Hermione didn't bother knocking this time before entering his room and was relieved he hadn't reset the lock. It was pitch black, despite being the middle of the day and Hermione carefully made her way to the bed. It looked as though he hadn't even moved in the last forty-eight hours.
"Draco?" Hermione said softly when she'd reached the head of the bed. "Draco, wake up, love. I need you to give you something."
The bedcovers moved and then stilled.
"Draco," she called, louder.
"Mmm…" he groaned.
"Draco!" she snapped.
"What?" he said, sounding very annoyed.
"I need you to drink something."
"Why?"
"Because you haven't eaten anything in two days. Or had anything to drink. I'm not going to let you waste away just because you're being a righteous prat."
"What is it?"
"It's a temporary meal replacement potion. It'll meet your needs for two days."
He paused. "Fine. Leave it."
She set the glass on the bedside table roughly and despite knowing that he wasn't being ornery because he was upset with her, huffed angrily to the door.
"Hermione?" he called just as she reached it.
That one word, her name, and the way he said it—as though he were a small child lost in a room full of people—melted all her anger and annoyance. "Yes?"
"Thank you."
ooo
Hermione gave Draco the potion on days four and six. On day four, she'd tried to talk to him but had been promptly told to shove off. She left the potion for him by the bed both times, never once seeing any part of him, never seeing any indication he'd moved at all.
The morning of the seventh day, she was starting to get really concerned. Draco had shown no signs of improvement and it had been an entire week. She considered asking someone to come see him, but that would have been futile – if Draco wouldn't talk to her, she knew he wouldn't talk to a stranger.
Ron had stopped by every day to check on her and to get her things she needed. She didn't want to leave even to get something to eat, in case he wanted her.
She'd been sitting at the table with the intention of reading the Daily Prophet, but couldn't concentrate. Her mind was spinning with worry and a growing sense of helplessness. She was so intensely caught up in her thoughts that she didn't hear the bedroom door open or hear his light footfalls as he walked down the hall.
"Morning," he said, and she jumped.
Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of him. He'd lost a little weight, but he was smiling at her and he'd obviously just come fresh and clean-shaven from the shower. She jumped up and threw her arms around him, letting a few tears of relief run down her face.
"Draco!" she whispered, holding the back of his head with her hand. He held her tightly and gave no indication he would ever stop. Eventually though, Hermione's need to breathe became greater than her need to remain in his arms and she pulled away from him just enough to look him in the eyes.
He was still grinning. "Hi."
A hundred questions fought for prominence as she smiled back at him. "What… how… are you… oh, I'm so glad to see you!"
He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Me too."
"Would you – I mean, can we… talk?"
Draco's smile faded slightly, but he nodded and released her. He sat at the table while Hermione put a pot of hot water on the stove. He took a deep breath and started. "I…went to see him. You were right; I never would have been able to live with myself if I hadn't. It…was awful. There are no other words for it."
Hermione squeezed his hand.
"I said all those things I told you I wanted to say and he sat there, listening, not saying a word. When I finished, I waited for him to…I don't know…explode. He did nothing. He just looked at me, his eyes cold, and said…" His voice caught and he looked away from her. "He said he had no son."
Hermione's heart broke for him.
"And then he just…left." He was crying, she saw, though he tried to hide it. Not great, wracking sobs, just a few silent tears that plopped onto the table in little pools. He removed his hand from hers to wipe his eyes.
When he looked up at her again, his eyes were clear and he smiled. "But I did what I went to do."
She shook her head, feeling helpless. "I don't know what to say," she whispered.
Draco gave her a small smile and shrugged. "I told him about you, you know," Draco continued. "I said I loved you. That was the only moment I got a reaction from him. The veins on his neck stood out and he clenched his jaw. I could tell he really wanted to say something about it." He paused and shut his eyes tight. "I kind of wish he had."
"Draco…" she started.
"I did something rash after I left Azkaban," he said hurriedly.
"What?"
Without a word, Draco set his left arm on the table, palm side up. Hermione gasped. Just above his wrist and beside a very ugly scar was a small tattoo of the Dark Mark. It wasn't nearly as large as the actual Mark had been during Voldemort's reign, but it was nevertheless quite obviously the Mark.
"I know I'll never forget everything that happened. Those… images and experiences, the pain, the reason behind all of it… I need this to remind me. What my father became…I don't want that to be me."
"That could never be you," Hermione said firmly.
He smiled. "Thank you for saying that. I certainly hope not, but… I know it's there, in me. Lurking." He paused and ran a hand through his hair, then looked at her intently. "There's one thing I realized from this whole thing though."
"What?"
"I want you to marry me."
Her eyes widened with delight. "Really?"
"Yes," he said earnestly. "Say you will."
"You're asking me right now?" she said, surprised.
"Yes. Right now."
"Yes!" she exclaimed with an enormous smile. "I'll marry you, of course I will."
His face relaxed and he smiled at her again, taking her hand. "Good. I don't have a ring for you. I hadn't really planned this…"
"I don't need a ring, Draco."
He nodded. "Soon. As soon as possible."
"Okay."
"I love you."
"I love you." Hermione felt…unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Elated, overjoyed, ecstatic. Very quickly though, she realized Draco wasn't finished. "What is it?"
"I cannot believe I spent a week in bed. And I am sorry I was so awful to you."
"Already forgiven," she said. Then, "If I may ask, why did you spend a week cut off? I was very worried about you."
He shrugged. "I had to mourn my father. After everything that had happened… I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. I knew you would be spitting angry if I did, so I did the next best thing. Crawled into bed and barely moved."
She laughed. "And how are you feeling now, love? About everything."
Draco considered the question. "I…I feel better. I really do. I said what I needed to say—I reckon I got the reaction I should have anticipated…. I spent the whole week thinking about him and all the ways he poisoned me as a child." He looked at her. "I do not think I will miss him."
Hermione leaned over and lightly kissed him. "I'm glad you're feeling better."
He smiled at her. "And we are getting married."
She grinned. "I can't wait."
ooo
A/N: Thanks for reading! More to come soon! We're now over halfway finished with these little stories—only five more to go.