Good afternoon, all! Happy almost summer, it's officially reached 63 degrees here after a cool week last week. I am beyond pleased! So, instead of going outside, here I am, enjoying a glass of Moscato, and writing for you. I wouldn't have it any other way! This story has been added to a few communities out there, and I would like it to be added to more. If you see one that you think may fit well, feel free to add it. And as always, review. Love you guys! :D :D And thank you Megami for pointing out my "don't/done" in Chapter 2. Oh how embarrassing. :P
Chapter 4: The Inevitable
Hermione awoke with a start to her sleeping charm, with the sounds of birds chirping in her ears. A small smile crept over her face when she looked out her window; the sun was shining, welcoming her back to the place she held most dear. She tilted her head from side to side, and slowly clambered out of her comfortable bed. Crookshanks moved himself up to where her body was, turned a few times, and fell back asleep. Hermione grabbed her robes, and proceeded to the bathroom. It was there that she remembered the argument last night. What she had seen definitely affected her in a negative way. Did the Order know about what had happened to him? Too many questions, too little time.
After her quick shower, Hermione went on to make breakfast. It was only eight, and her first class of the day wasn't until eight thirty. With ease, she began to make herself pancakes with bacon, and poured herself a cup of orange juice. Not realizing it, she began to sing to herself, pointless lyrics, but somehow they soothed her.
Draco's eyes opened for the second time since he had pushed the Mudblood out of his room the following night. Last time it was because her stupid pet wanted to be let into her room, and this time it was because of singing. Curiously, Draco pulled himself up and listened to the soft sounds. At first he was angry, but then his heart began to calm down, and he felt a lump in his throat.
Mum. It reminded him of the way his mother used to sing when she prepared a meal, did the laundry, anything for that matter. Whatever she did, Narcissa Malfoy was singing. Not a lot of people knew she was that gentle. But, these sounds were coming from the Mudblood. And there was no way she was as gentle as his Mum.
Hermione heard Draco's shuffling in his room, realizing now that she had woken him. She heard a refrain of colorful swear words before the door to his room swung open to reveal the Slytherin. She sighed and turned back to putting the pancakes on a plate.
"Granger, do you have to be so bloody loud?" he barked, standing in the doorway of his room.
Hermione turned to him, spatula in her hand. "I wasn't being loud, Malfoy, go back to bed!"
"How can I do that when you're walloping around her like a herd of centaurs?" he demanded.
"I most certainly am not –"
"Yes, you are! Merlin, your ignorance is ridiculous, Granger!"
"You think I'm being loud, huh?" she said softly, and with a flick of her wand, there came a screeching sound, like nails on a chalkboard. Draco scowled.
"Wow, that's so mature of you! Do you ever stop to think about what you're doing?!"
"As a matter of fact, yes I do," Hermione snapped back. She threw a plate of breakfast on the table in the kitchen, along with a fork. She had made him breakfast. Draco narrowed his eyes. She had done this for the past month; why was she using it against him now?
"Just stop moving around," he growled. "Seriously, Granger, it's infuriating –"
"Don't tell me what to do, Malfoy. You're here because the Order feels sorry for your situation, that's it," she replied, her hazel eyes like fire. Draco found that he actually quite liked it when he saw the fire begin to burn in her eyes. "Just take your food and go back to sleep."
"Don't try to boss me around, Granger," he warned.
Hermione looked at her watch: it was almost nine. She needed to get to class. Without another word, she grabbed her books off the table and proceeded to the door. Nothing followed after her, not an insult nor argument, and for that, she was thankful. All she heard was heavy footfalls to the kitchen and back to the room, and the shrill clash of the door slamming. Whatever, he could act like he was a child when she wasn't in the dorm.
Halfway down the hall, still engulfed in her thoughts about her furious Slytherin roommate, she saw Ginny talking to Seamus and Neville by the Great Hall. Without another thought about him, she sprinted to them, happier than she had been in her life.
"Hermione!" Ginny squealed with delight, her red hair bouncing around her as met her halfway and gave her the biggest hug she could muster. "Oh, it's so good to see you!"
"You, too, Ginny! How are you? How is your family?" Hermione asked quickly.
"Coping, I suppose," Ginny replied with a shrug. "We all worry now, with what's been going on. Mum didn't want me to come back, but when I told her you were, she was fine. Are you okay, Hermione? You look pale."
"Oh, dear," Hermione said, more to herself than to Ginny. "No, I just haven't gotten the chance to eat yet. What class do you have now?
Ginny checked her schedule. "Advanced Transfiguration with McGonagall."
"I'm headed to Slughorn's for Alchemy," Hermione said, sighing. They were on completely different ends of the castle.
"Oh, Neville's going there! Neville!" Ginny called. Neville bid a farewell to Seamus, and approached the two girls, a smile on his face.
"Hermione, boy, am I glad to see you! Are you alright? You look ill," Neville exclaimed, looking the witch up and down. Hermione noticed how much he had thinned out over the past summer; he even had a bit of black stubble on his chin.
"Oh yes, I was just telling Ginny that I hadn't eaten yet. You're heading to Alchemy?" she gave him a fake smile, and it apparently did the trick.
"Indeed," Neville nodded. "We better get going if we're gonna make class on time. Ginny, I'll see you for lunch?" Ginny nodded and disappeared into the crowd. "What have you been up too, Hermione? We haven't seen you all summer. Some of us were beginning to think you went out searching for Harry and Ron."
Their names brought a pang to the witch's heart.
"I've been doing all I can to help them from home," she explained.
"It looks like it's been taking a toll," Neville remarked as they descended down the stairs to the dungeons. "Maybe you should take a quick break. I fancy a bite to eat after the class, what do you say?"
Hermione couldn't help but smile. Neville always had a way of making her feel better. "Of course. How about you? What did you do all summer?"
"Mostly trained the D.A. We have a few new people now, so we're growing. It's good to see that the interest is getting around. The more people we have on our side, the better," Neville explained, using his hands to extenuate.
"Good!" Hermione exclaimed. It truly was good news, and it gave her hope. "We all need to get together with some of the Professors. That will truly prepare us."
"Absolutely. Let's talk to McGonagall about it after this class," Neville held open the door to the potions classroom for her. They went inside and sat at their usual table in the back of the classroom.
Hermione couldn't help but feel the comfort of being back at school. Something about it just made her feel tingly and happy. Seeing her friends again helped as well. As Neville pulled up his chair, Hermione noticed he drooped an arm casually across the back of her chair. Slightly confused, but not going to question it, she ignored it and brought her books out.
"How's Luna?" Hermione asked as they waited for Slughorn.
"Typical Luna," Neville chuckled. "If it wasn't for her optimism, I don't think the D.A. would've worked out. She's special, that Luna."
"Oh yes," Hermione chuckled. "She is very special, indeed."
The first day of Alchemy was a breeze, and she thrived herself on answering every question. It was just a repeat of last year, but she enjoyed it none-the-less. Slughorn had given them an essay due by Thursday on Panacea, and Hermione was quite grateful to have an assignment to work on already. Neville walked her to the Great Hall, they grabbed an apple, chatted a bit more about the D.A. and Harry and Ron, then went to McGonagall's classroom to find that she was absent. Hermione assured Neville they would speak with her soon, and proceeded to go to the library.
The library was her refuge away from all the noises and drama that came with going to school. Normally, the library was quite quiet, as it was today. Not spotting another soul in sight, including Madam Pince, Hermione allowed herself back to the restricted section to her usual spot, hidden out of view from everyone.
With a contented sigh, she gazed around the library, taking in the scent of the old books, and feeling truly at home.
For a few hours, she could loose herself in this sanctuary. That's all that mattered.
Neville came and retrieved her from the library a few hours later, when it was time for their afternoon lunch. He found her sleeping on a book about Horcruxes, and then a parchment titled: "The Effects of Panacea" beside her, with the quill still on it, leaving a disastrously huge drop of ink. With a smile, he leaned down and gently awoke Hermione. Her hazel eyes blinked open to see his face, and a small smile crept along hers too.
"How long was I out?" she asked, straightening herself.
"A few hours, I'd reckon," Neville replied and began to help her gather her things. "We're all headed to lunch, would you like to join us?"
"Of course," Hermione said, swinging her back with her books over her shoulder. She eyed the parchment with the ink stain, noting she didn't get any further than the title, and decided she would start over later. "What are we having?"
"Sandwiches, I think," chuckled Neville.
The two made their way through the empty library to the Great Hall, where Seamus was waiting for them with Dean Thomas. Hermione approached her friends happily, but still rubbing sleep from her eyes.
"Hermione, have a good Holiday?" Seamus asked, giving her a clap on the back.
"Oh yes," she nodded, despite the fact that everything that could've possibly gone wrong went wrong.
"It's good to see you," Dean said and gave her a hug. The four companions went into the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table, chatting once again about the D.A.
Hermione glanced around the Hall, looking for any faces she'd recognize. Michael Corner, Colin Creevy, Ernie McMillian (he had grown out his curls so they were framing his face and she couldn't help but think he was the least bit attractive now), Terry Boot, Pansy Parkinson (the disgust that filled Hermione almost made her sick), and Tracey Davis. A lot of others she saw weren't in her year and she didn't know well, but at least Hogwarts was full.
The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. Hermione had two out of her four classes give her homework, but she was wishing that all of them had. By the time evening set in, and she had eaten dinner with her friends, she was headed back to her dorm with an extra plate for Malfoy. Just when she was about to enter, Zacharias Smith turned the corner, obviously looking for her. Shit, she thought, repulsed by her own swearing.
"Hermione, hey, I'm glad I caught you in time!" he exclaimed, and swept his long dirty-blonde bangs to the side.
"Hello, Zac, what is it?" she asked, wishing to Merlin that he would just go away.
"McGonagall wants us to go out tomorrow together for the first Quidditch match of the season," he said. She noted the smile turning up on the sides of his lips, but looked down to the floor to avoid making eye-contact with him.
"Sounds good, I'll meet you there –"
"Are you okay, Hermione? You seem… off," he said with a raised eyebrow.
If one more person asked her if she was okay today, she swore…
"Oh yes, I'm fine. Just a little wore out is all," she said and slinked back to the picture of the panther that led to her dorm. "I'll see you tomorrow, Zac."
With a quick mutter of the password, she disappeared inside her dorm. She was surprised to find Malfoy on the couch, a book in his lap. He looked up when she entered the room, noting that she had chosen to wear black slacks, with a sweater overtop of her white shirt and tie. Her normally messy hair was up in a bun, with only stands hanging down. She looked… feminine.
Hermione didn't say a word to him, just swung her sack of books on the table and pulled out a piece of parchment so she could work on her essay. Inside, she was hoping he didn't get up. The last thing she wanted to do was to deal with that Slytherin scum. Draco got up, tossed the book to the couch, and eyed the plate of food at she had brought.
"First day satisfactory, Granger?" he asked with a scowl.
"Piss off," she replied and began writing the title to Slughorn's paper ever so carefully.
"Make me," he dared her. Her hazel eyes looked up from the parchment, and her fingers dropped the quill. He did it: he didn't even have to rowel her up this time.
"I shouldn't have too!" there came the screaming. He loved it. "This is my dorm, and I've told you repeatedly the only reason why you're here is –"
"Because the bloody Order feels sorry for me, blah blah blah," Draco mocked her, even inching his tone up an octave to mimic her affectively. Hermione's ears grew hot with rage.
"You are seriously the most selfish person I know, Malfoy! You're entire life has been handed to you, so all you've done is bully people and make them feel sorry that they aren't you! When you were brought to me, I actually thought maybe your predicament had changed you, but NO! You remind me of your father –"
"Do not bring my father into this," Draco warned her quietly. She had crossed a line, and she knew it.
"No, I'm not finished," she continued, now pointing at him. If he had a wand, he would've hexed her finger. "You have become just like your father! You are evil, conniving, and manipulative! You're even a Death Eater! Who would've guessed? I thought maybe, just maybe, you had one shred of common sense left not to follow Voldemort –"
"SHUT UP!" he bellowed. But, Hermione had no intention of shutting up.
"No, I will not shut up. You're a pitiful excuse for a Death Eater, Malfoy. That's why you're here, because you couldn't even get that right in your pathetic life," she hissed.
On any other occasion, he would've been thrilled to get her temper this high, this flaring. But, not this time. She had touched a nerve, and she knew it. She was basking in it.
"Are you done, Granger?" he growled. No matter what he did, he couldn't escape his wrongdoing. Not in his dreams, and apparently not in reality either. He shouldn't have let her read his mind…
Hermione just huffed, holding her ground, her arms now crossed in front of her chest. "I thought that maybe, just maybe, you would change –"
"You fucking Gryffindor's are all the same. Always trying to see the good in everything and everyone, it's repulsive –"
"No, Draco, what you did is repulsive," Hermione said, her voice harsh with honesty. With that, she stormed into her room, leaving no time for his reply.
When she was in her room, Draco picked up the plate of food and hurled it against the opposite wall, resulting in food and glass everywhere. He hoped she had heard it, that it had made her cringe. How dare she bring up his father like it was okay to talk about! Draco paced back and forth until his anger subsided, and finally fell back to the couch where he opened up the book he was reading again. It was about Magical Creatures, and dare he admit it – he was finding some of the things he was reading fascinating. But, he couldn't keep his concentration. So, he began to pace again. He spied the parchment the Mudblood had been working on and sat down at the table. Having taken Advanced Alchemy last year, he was familiar with the topic, and was itching for something to do. He picked the quill up, noticing it had left a disastrously huge drop of ink. He absentmindedly blotted it away and began to write.
When Hermione awoke the next morning, she wasn't in a better mood. The events of the evening prior hadn't blown over on her end quite yet. She looked outside and saw that it was getting cooler, the leaves were even beginning to change. So, she grabbed a pair of black trousers, another white shirt, a red and golden tie, and a grey cardigan with the Gryffindor crest woven into the fabric. As she walked into the kitchen, she noticed the shattered glass and last night's food. She murmured a spell to clean it up, and then directed her eyes to the kitchen table. Where to her surprise, a completed essay sat on the finish, looking up at her with the ink similar to calligraphy. Her breath caught in her throat, and she thought to herself that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope left for Draco Malfoy.
The rest of the day went by quickly, and Hermione had a feeling that the days were going to begin to run together. Between her and her friends, there were many estranged silences when they weren't going on about Voldemort, the war, the D.A., or Harry and Ron. Hermione never began conversation, but then again, she rarely did anyway. Her friends still commented on her looking ill. She managed to brush it off as worry about Harry and Ron, and her friends believed her because over the past year, she had become a very convincing liar.
McGonagall had begun training with the members of the D.A. that wanted to expand their skills. That alone made Hermione wonder what McGonagall knew that they didn't. Over the next few weeks, she noticed that many of the Seventh Year Slytherins were disappearing. They were going to Voldemort's side, to become Death Eaters. Hermione didn't even pretend that she didn't know. When Dean mentioned that there weren't any Seventh Years left, Hermione didn't even hide her surprise. It made her resent Malfoy a little more, knowing that if circumstances were different, he would be with them.
They didn't argue as much anymore, despite a few outbursts here and there. McGonagall had asked Hermione multiple times how Draco was accommodating, and every time, she told the Headmistress he was becoming less and less volatile. It had seemed that the Slytherin and Gryffindor had come to at least a slight understanding. And Hermione noticed that when Draco was busy, he was less proactive. She always made sure to keep books in their Common Room, and more often than not, when she returned from classes, he was in his room and a few of her books were missing. It made her feel a little warm inside, knowing that he was becoming just as much of a bookworm as she was.
October came, bringing harsh winds and cool rain with it. On the morning of the seventh, a Saturday, Hermione looked out her window and sighed at the raindrops coming down onto her window. She always hated the rain. It brought dread, cold, and just all around, unhappiness. She didn't even bother to cover herself from her nightclothes, a loose pair of lilac boxer shorts, and a white tank top, as she went out into the kitchen. To her surprise, Draco was balancing himself on the island in the kitchen, a bowl of cereal at one side of him, and two books on the other. There was another book in his hands, and he was intently reading. Hermione noted she could hear the rain much clearer out here.
"What the hell are you doing?" he barked. Hermione jumped, and instinctively reached for her wand, but realized it wasn't in her back pocket. "Why are you here?"
"I live here?" she raised an eyebrow and began to slowly move back to her room. After so long without arguing, his bark had caught her off guard. She almost had thought she didn't have to carry a wand around him. "I have some homework, so can you just please go somewhere else?"
"Good for you, Granger. Some of us don't have homework. Some of us are locked in a stupid dorm," he snarled.
"That's not my problem," she said calmly, and went to the couch where her bags were dropped. She retrieved her book and parchment, then curled herself in the red armchair near Draco's room.
"It is! You could've told the Order to send me somewhere else, not be locked up in this bloody room with you!" he growled.
"No matter where you go, you'll be locked up, Malfoy," she sneered in his direction, opening her book and grabbing a quill. "Now, please, go into your room –"
"Piss off, Granger."
"I'm waiting for you to piss off, Malfoy," she barked, her voice carrying over the heavy sounds of rain.
"Why can't you go back to your room? You're the one who came out here and disturbed me!"
"Because this is my dorm, and I'm in charge –"
"Oh, you're in charge? I didn't know McGonagall handed that authority over to you!"
"Well, she did so—"
"So what? It doesn't mean shit. I'm still stuck here and you're still being bloody stupid. I never understood why you Gryffindor's have to make everything so damn complicated –"
"We don't make things complicated, Malfoy!"
"Oh yeah? Then why did Potter and Weasley go running off to Merlin Knows Where, not leaving you a single clue as to where they might be?" Malfoy demanded, his blonde eyebrow raised. "Don't deny me, Granger. You know that they left you behind because they can't stand you."
A spark ignited inside Hermione's abdomen. "Shut up, Malfoy, before I make you –"
A flick of realization passed over Draco's grey eyes. "Ah, seem to have hit a nerve there, Granger. It must be truly an inconvenience to you not to have the other two gits of your little trio here to make you feel better. It explains why you've been looking so morbid lately."
"I do not look morbid –"
"Yes, you do," he corrected her. "I just remembered that maybe it's because you don't have your pathetic ass of a boyfriend here too –"
"He's not my boyfriend!" Hermione said sharply, now to her feet. "I swear Draco Malfoy, if you say one more word…"
"What? You're gonna hex me? Throw me out of here? Please do. Seriously, it's better than listening to any of the rubbish coming out of your mouth," Draco said coolly.
Hermione had had enough of his arguments. It was too early for it. Like she always did when she had gotten tired of arguing, she locked herself in the bathroom to take a nice warm shower. She could hide out in there, without having to deal with her friends asking her if she was okay, without being around people. It was her own little sanctuary. Even though she knew when she opened that door, the foul-mouthed Slytherin would be waiting for her on the other side.