A month goes by, no word from Harry, no word from Malfoy. Just one measly little letter is all I receive from anyone.
Mione, I can't wait for school to start back up. Mom won't stop crying because she says that she is losing all her babies because we are growing up. If my cheeks get pinched one more time, I'm moving in with Harry. Your friend, Ron.
And now here I am, at Platform 9 ¾, seeing myself off again for my sixth year. It wasn't as filthy as the muggle train stations I was once a custom to, wizards seem to think more highly of their surroundings and take better care of them than muggles do. Once I step onto the Hogwarts Express, I begin my search, from compartment to compartment, looking for Ron and Harry. It is so crowded in the hallway of the corridor anymore though, what with the first years running around like loons, and the trolleys. As I pass by a group of fourth year girls, whispering about Dean, I feel an unfamiliar hand grab my arm, pulling me into a compartment, slamming the door, and pulling the shades shut. No one can see us, or what we are doing in here. Quickly I pull out my wand, pointing it at the unknown person who yanked me in here and was holding me hostage.
"You need to learn when, and who, to pull that wand out on Granger, you're going to get yourself killed." Suddenly, I look at him. The white hair, the grey eyes, I should have known from the very get go who would drag me into a closed room and hide the fact that we were meeting from everyone.
"Oh my god, Malfoy. You're alright." I say, wrapping my arms around his neck, embracing him in a hug. His arms are held out, like he didn't know what to do. Slowly, he melts, and his arms go around me as well. When was the last time this boy received a hug? Or any kind of affection for that matter. He takes my upper arms in his hands, and gently pushes me away.
"We need to talk." He whispers, looking down at the ground. He won't even face me as he speaks. "Please, sit down." Gently, I do, not facing away from him, as if in a trance, and he sits opposite of me, his elbows on his knees. Suddenly, his face goes white, looking as if he is going to throw up. "We are facing a war Mione."
"I know this Draco, but.." He puts his finger up to my lips.
"Please don't, let me finish. We are facing a war, and you and I are enemies. I have developed..a..what would you say, interest in you...er...your type, lately and would hate to have to destroy something which seems so interesting. Please Mione, stop hanging out with Potter, by doing so you are risking not only your life, but mine."
"I can't, Harry is my friend." I state, trying to stay calm, "and how am I risking your life?"
"I don't want to be the bad guy, but." He looks down again and slowly lifts the sleeve of his left arm, revealing the dark mark.
"What!" I stand up quickly, ready to walk out of the compartment now. Harry has got to know about this. I can't keep it a secret, Malfoy is asking too much of me now. He grabs me with both arms.
"Please." He says, looking into my eyes. His eyes melt me. They look so genuine and sincere.
"Fine, but this better be good." I storm, plopping myself back down on the bench, crossing my arms, and sticking my nose up in the air.
"Have either of your parents ever been anywhere like Azkaban?" He asks, "Whatever it is in the muggle world."
"No, Malfoy, because my parents are good people. They don't hurt others, they don't kill." I half holler, half whisper, trying to keep my voice down enough for the people out in the hallway not to hear.
"Well, right before my father went to Azkaban, he sat me down, and he told me that I was the man of the house now. That Malfoy Manor and mother were mine to protect. So the only way that I can protect my mother is to become one of them. I know too much to back out. If I leave, my mother is dead. Do you understand that Granger?" I lower my head, thinking about my parents, how they cared about me. How my dad had taught me to ride a bike, and now I ride a broomstick. How my mom had sat down with me, time and time again, reading me nursery rhymes. A tear streams down my cheek. "Exactly. Life isn't a fairytale for everyone. Some of us have to do what's wrong in order to do what's right. You can hate me all you want, but this war is in my house right now, not yours." I just stare at him. I never thought about it that way.
"I'm sorry." I whisper, barely audible.
"My mother is just now able to sleep at night, she used to wake up screaming from the nightmares of what my father is going through in Azkaban. I have to be there for her now that he is gone. Have you ever had to just hold your mother, knowing that there is nothing you can do to take her pain away?"
I think back, I was about nine at the time. My father had been in a bad car accident driving home from work. As soon as I got home from school, my mother was there waiting outside. I knew something was wrong, she never waited outside for me. We drove to the hospital, and there was my dad, the strong man who had held me on his shoulders, who whispered in my ear before going to bed that one day I, Hermione Jean, would fly amongst the eagles with the great things I would do, little did he know, but I literally would, was laying in the hospital bed, tubes hooked up to his nose, his mouth, and his arms. My mom broke down, fell right there in the middle of the hospital floor, screaming. She cried so hard that she said it felt like her heart was getting torn out of her chest. She didn't sleep at all that night, and neither did I. I stayed up, making her tea, and holding her as she cried, placing her heart, her entire being, in the doctors hands.
"I have Draco. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know." I say, switching seats so that I was now next to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and placing my head on his shoulder. "I just thought.."
"You thought what? That I wanted to become a death eater?" He stands up and is nearly yelling now. "That I want to literally kill Harry Potter? That I want innocent blood on my hands so that others can feel this wretched pain that I feel every day when I look at my mother?"
"No, as a matter of fact, I don't" I snapped back. "I don't know why you hate Harry, I don't know what other reason you would have that hideous blasted mark on your body, all I know is that I am sorry for judging you, ok Draco? I won't do it again."
"Ok, thank you." He replies calmly. "Just remember, everything I do, it isn't all directed towards you" He leans down towards me, so that our faces are inches apart. "In fact, none of it is, I promise." He kisses me, so softly, that it is as if he is scared he will break me, looks up at me, and walks out of the compartment.