A/N: I am really sorry about the delay guys. I've been so focused on my other stories and school/working. Updates will be slow, but not 3 months like last time. I'm shooting for two or three updates a month. :) Enjoy!
"Leave me out with the waste
This is not what I do
It's the wrong kind of place
To be thinking of you."
- 9 Crimes, Damien Rice
Chapter 16 - Out With the Waste
The song ended too soon, and so did the peace that came with the soft melody and surrounded Hermione and Malfoy like a comforting bubble. They broke apart from their dance awkwardly; Hermione couldn't bear to look him in the eye. Luckily she did not have to because the hall erupted into applause, slicing through the awkward tension like a sharp knife. On stage, the Weird Sisters gave a bow next to a beaming Dumbledore.
Even with the cheering, the distractions, the image of Lavender and Ron still pressed firmly behind Hermione's eyes. But, somehow, it was a little easier to acknowledge now. Still painful, but a little number, taking the cruel and sharp edge off. She knew, even if she didn't want to admit it, that Malfoy had something to do with it. It could have been anyone who lent just a fraction of comfort that she needed in that moment, but the fact remained that it was him. Unlikely as it may be, she could not deny her gratitude.
She turned to him then, words of thanks on her tongue—and hesitated at the look on his face.
"Look…I—I have to go, Granger," he said, his voice unnaturally hollow. He was looking at something over her shoulder, but his gaze was unfocused. "This was stupid—a mistake."
And with that he vanished, leaving Hermione to wonder exactly what this was. The crowd was beginning to exit in a fury as the cheery guests reminisced over the nights events. She felt herself being pushed toward the exit unwillingly, students rushing past her and knocking her this way and that way. She managed to halt just outside the doors, allowing the other students to push past her in their excitement. She tried to find Harry and Ginny—or even Luna and Neville—but couldn't find them in the masses.
Then, very suddenly, she came up with the idea that maybe she couldn't find them because they didn't care to be found. It was a selfish thought, and probably stupid and irrational, but for some reason this had something to do with Lavender and Ron. Or maybe it didn't. All she knew was that it made her angry as everything seemed to crash down on her in a wave of irritation.
Hermione hated this year. She hated constantly worrying about the safety of her parents. She hated Ron being with Lavender. She hated living with Malfoy. She hated Harry being so busy. And she hated being second best at Potions.
Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione found herself pushing her way out of the Great Hall. All she could think about, suddenly, were the words "this" and "mistake" as she tried to make sense of them. There was an overwhelming urge to know exactly what Malfoy had meant. She had to know—she would not allow herself to understand why she had to know, but she acknowledged that she must know.
Despite high heels that made her feet ache, Hermione ran straight to Gryffindor tower at an impressive speed. Ghosts floated up and down the staircases, gossiping happily about the ball, some even carrying pearly white goblets as though they could still drink. The staircases were otherwise nearly empty, and she had no problem getting to the 7th floor. When she reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, she shouted 'Mandrake' at the Fat Lady and sprinted to Harry's dormitory. Dean was sitting by the fire in the common room and asked about the ball, but she was in such a hurry all she could do was give a noncommittal sort of wave of the hand as she ran past.
To her luck, none of the boys had returned yet—explaining what she was doing was nothing something she had prepared for. Hermione rummaged through Harry's trunk hastily, fishing through clothes, empty ink bottles, and random bits of junk—she made a mental note to help him organize before he went home, because no one's trunk should look like that.
She finally found what she wanted and snatched an old piece of blank parchment. Pulling out her wand, she tapped the parchment and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Oh, the irony of how true that was.
Something told her Malfoy wouldn't have gone back to their common room. This was the easiest way to find out rather than search the entire castle blindly.
Hermione searched the Marauder's Map, running a finger over the many black dots on the faded ivory parchment. It took her a moment to find him amongst the many dots. The one labeled 'Draco Malfoy' paced inside the Astronomy Tower, alone.
What was he doing in there?
Hermione would find out later. She tapped the map again with her wand, muttering, "Mischief managed," and then tucked it back into Harry's trunk, slamming it shut. The Common Room was starting to fill up, but no one paid her any attention as she zoomed by. She knew the quickest way to the tower was traveling through the courtyard. Since students were all going back to their common rooms, the staircases were crowded. Hermione allowed this time to finally catch her breath.
When she reached the bottom floor, her pace slowed to a speedy walk. It would not be far from here.
Not five minutes later, she stepped into the court yard and gazed into the sky. The night was dark and hazy, moonlight scattered across the stone walls and benches. Thick fog grazed over the grounds and Hermione was pleased the weather was quite warm for October. She inhaled the fresh scent of leaves and grass, clearing her mind. Then she set off again, and finally stopped in front of the door to the tower.
She caught her breath before entering. Why was she so nervous?
Hermione pushed open the door and walked up the cold, spiral staircase. At the top was a small landing and another wooden door. A pause, and then she pushed this one open, too. Cloaked in shadows and darkness, it was nearly impossible to see, but a sliver of moonlight from the only window caught something and she was able to see a tall impending figure.
The door creaked shut. Almost instantly, Malfoy turned around. She could not see his face, but the way his shoulders jerked made him look startled. He still wore his mask from the ball, though it made no difference. Usually those grey eyes were lifeless, his expression blank. Even his usual smirk was losing its arrogance these days.
"What are you doing here, Granger?" His voice sounded tired and weak, as though physically exhausted.
"What are you doing here?" she rallied back, ignoring his question.
Malfoy ignored hers as well.
"You shouldn't be out of the school…out here," he said carefully. He shifted slightly so that half his body was hidden in shadow, the other catching the moonlight. His hands moved to his pockets and he turned toward the window. "It's not safe."
"Hogwarts is safe," said Hermione.
Malfoy said nothing.
"Dumbledore wouldn't let—"
"Dumbledore is not invincible. He cannot protect you from everything in this world," Malfoy cut in coldly. "You'd be smart to remember that." She had a retort on her tongue, but decided to remain quiet. He let out an irritated sigh. "I don't know how you managed to find me—or why, which is even more troubling."
"I was…curious," Hermione said lamely.
He snorted, though the sound had no feeling. "That's one way to get yourself killed."
"Hasn't stopped me before." When he said nothing, when Hermione was sure he was just going to stare out that window into nothingness, she slowly walked toward him and added, "You ran off so fast. I thought something might be…wrong."
And I want to know what you think was a mistake.
"Why should you care?"
Hermione detected the slightest bit of curiosity in his voice. She was quiet for a moment, trying her best to come up with something logical. Turns out, there really wasn't anything. "I really don't know," she said. "I probably shouldn't."
"Smartest thing you've said all day."
"Look, I just want to understand," she started, suddenly angry, but Malfoy cut her off with a loud shout that made her flinch.
"What is there to understand, Granger?" He tore his gaze from the window to look at her. Even in the darkness, those grey eyes shone, except they were cold and lifeless. "You need to just stay away from me."
The weirdest thing happened: she did just the opposite. Realizing she was now close enough to touch him, her hand shout out instinctively, but Malfoy stepped out of her reach to avoid her touch.
"Stop," he commanded, managing to sound angry and frightened all at once. "I know what you're doing. And I don't want your pity or sympathy or anything. I want nothing from you."
Hermione's hand dropped, as though scorned, and she felt betrayed by her own arm and wished she hadn't reached out in the first place. "I'm not trying…I just…" her voice trailed off into a sigh. Why couldn't she spit out what she wanted to say? "I want to understand what's going on. Is it so bizarre that I notice something is strange with you and I ask why?"
"Yes, it is bizarre," he said seriously. "We're not even friends, Granger."
"Maybe not, but that didn't stop you from tonight."
He cringed, and so did she. What did that even mean? What was tonight? It was an abnormality, she decided instantly. A strange moment in time when he offered her some mercy; when he didn't take advantage of a moment to torment her and instead, gave her just a little bit of comfort.
Malfoy looked away from her then, clenching his hands against the railing by the window until his knuckles turned white. "You're still a mudblood." His tone suggested this meant everything.
"Why does it always have to be like that?" asked Hermione incredulously. "We are living together to show unity of the houses. Didn't you hear Dumbledore? If we can't unite ourselves, how can we expect anyone else to follow?"
Malfoy scoffed in irritation. "That old man has no idea. When will you lot learn that purebloods and mudbloods are never going to unite? Not in school, and certainly not out of it. Don't you understand that?"
Hermione stared at him, wishing he'd take off that stupid mask or at least look at her. "You lot? What's that supposed to mean?"
"People like you."
"Mudbloods?" She snarled the word at him.
He made a sound of impatience. "No. There's people like you and people like me."
"What does that even mean?" If he didn't mean mudbloods and purebloods, what did he mean? Why couldn't he just say what he was trying to say? Why did that have to be so difficult?
"Nothing, Granger." Malfoy sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, seemingly just as frustrated as she was. "Just forget it."
"When will you learn that you are no different than me?" Hermione hadn't meant to shout, but she seemed to lose control over the level of her voice. Fists clenched in anger, her arms shook at her sides. "I may have non-magic parents, but I am a witch and I was accepted to this school just like you! I attend the same classes as you. I do the same work, perform the same spells, write the same essays—I bleed the same color as you!"
Malfoy was looking at her now, the hard edge of his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. He was so inhumanly still he could have been a statue. The mask did not cover his mouth, and his lips were pressed into a hard line. But when he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically soft.
"You just don't get it. I hate you, Granger." His voice shook with suppressed emotion. "I hate you for so many reasons. I used to hate you because of your blood, but it's so much more than that."
Hermione felt, suddenly, like she had fallen through the ice and was submerged into freezing, biting water. She could not understand the feeling, but there was no denying the coldness that iced her veins. "Why do you hate me so much?" she whispered.
"You're free," he breathed quietly, suddenly standing so close that his breath dusted coolly across her nose. If he had not been so close, she might not have heard him at all. He bowed his head slightly and lifted a hand. His pale fingers touched the edge of his mask, almost absentmindedly.
Hermione did not know what he meant, but she said anyway, "Then find a way to be free."
"It's not that simple."
Her hand was outstretched—when had she done that?—but she thought better of it and let it drop to her side. "Most complicated questions have the simplest of answers," she said.
"This isn't school, Granger." He dropped his hand from his mask and looked away, a muscle in his jaw tightening. "Your silly little books won't help you in life." She wanted to disagree, but swallowed down the retort. "Sometimes we're faced with something and have no real choice."
"We always have a choice."
"I don't." His voice was absolute, bitter, but beneath all of that was a sense of finality. A devastating, terrible sense of finality that left no room for hope or choice.
Before Hermione could reply, she heard steps coming up the tower. She quickly stepped away from Malfoy, wanting to distance herself, when the door swung open to reveal a giggling, mask-less Lavender. Attached at her hip, an arm slung around her shoulders, was Ron. Also mask-less. Hermione looked away so fast her neck nearly broke in the process.
"Oh!" Lavender burst out. "Sorry, we'll just…go!" she said, laughing. She swung an arm around Ron's waist and dragged him from the room before he had a proper chance to even notice Hermione. At least she didn't think he did. She still had her mask on, but he knew her dress…
Well, Ron was never the observant type. He probably wouldn't have noticed.
The thought made her very cold, suddenly. Something very sharp prodded in her chest. She thought, of course, that she didn't want Ron to know it was her. But that wasn't quite true. She did want Ron to notice her. Maybe not at this precise moment, but…
Hermione cleared her throat, attempting to swallow down the pain.
"Granger," Malfoy started, almost hesitantly, "Weasley is a pathetic existence for a wizard."
"Don't." Her voice shook. She would not be pitied by him. "Please, don't. Torment me or pity me on any other day, but not tonight. Not tonight." Silence followed and she finally risked a glance and found him looking at her. Oh, why couldn't he take off that damn mask so she knew what he was thinking?
She could not stand it, suddenly, the feeling of her skin prickling as he looked at her like that, all intense and hot and cold, and she yanked off her mask. She took two steps forward and practically shoved it into his chest, careful not to damage it.
"Tell your mother I said thank you," she said quietly.
He caught hold of the mask, his fingers brushing against hers; the feeling made her skin prickle even more, a strange icy heat from his touch. The idea that he could effect her in any way just made her feel stupid.
"You're not going to thank me?" he asked.
"I already did. Your ego doesn't need to hear it more than once." The corners of his mouth turned up at that, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. Hermione could not refrain from letting him know she noticed. She waved a hand at his face and said, "You better be careful, I think you almost smiled just now."
"Don't count on it." He looked serious again, but his tone was amused.
"Fine. I'll just be negative and doom and gloom like you. Happy now?"
He looked at her, started to move forward, and walked right past her towards the door. She stared at his back in bewilderment. He reached for the door and paused, his hand outstretched. "I'm never happy," he said, and then he was gone.
Hermione waited about thirty minutes before going back to the common room, just in case some of the prefects were still up. She didn't want anyone to see her and Malfoy come in even remotely around the same time. Imagination only led to wild, crazy rumors and stories, and she had no patience or time to deal with them.
As expected, the common room was packed. Not only were all the prefects still awake, but some had let in some of the students. Ron being one of them, with Lavender sitting on his lap in one of the armchairs. Hermione froze the moment her eyes locked with his.
"Where have you been?" he asked, shifting Lavender slightly on his lap to have a better look at Hermione. She felt, rather than saw, Malfoy's cool gaze as he stood in the darkest shadow of the room with Pansy. And despite everything, despite how she felt about Ron, Lavender, and even Malfoy, Hermione smiled.
"That is something you have no right to ask."
And with that she walked past him, her chin held high and shoulders back. She thought, as she entered the portrait to their dorms, that Malfoy might have smiled just a bit as she passed, and just maybe, his eyes looked a little proud.
A/N: So this chapter had quite a bit changed. I know it's really short, but I wanted to give you guys something. And I know some of you will be upset by that, but I really think it was too OOC so I'm trying to stay in character the best I can. Some of you will notice Pansy's little scene is not in here; rest assured, I'm saving it for later. ;) Anyway, thank you for not giving up on this story and being so patient. You guys are awesome!