A/N: two months I've kept you guys waiting… Now its time I laid it out in front of you – the final chapter of Curtain Call :- Blue Morning…
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Her eyes trailed down his face, down his eyes, down his pale, frozen lips… and unable to control herself, she put her hands around him and brought him into an embrace.
"I – I-"
She struggled for words.
Then, she realized, she didn't need words. He may have known it already….
Chapter-9: Blue Morning
Shrieks and claps filled the morning air. Celebrations were going on in full swing. Fireworks burst into the inky blue sky, spraying the town with dazzle and glitter. The aurors congratulated each other on the accomplishment of so fine a task.
Harry and the Weasley brothers were engaged in a strange sort of victory dance when Dumbledore came to them, looking grave, sober and unnaturally tired.
"Harry, Ron," he motioned them out of the madness and spoke to them in a low tone, "I'm afraid we're not finished…"
Harry's happy expression faded. He exchanged glances with Ron and asked, "What do you mean, professor?"
Dumbledore looked from Ron's eyes to Harry's and sighed.
"Come," he said, "there's something I've got to show you…"
They walked away from the throngs of celebrating aurors into an alleyway and took a short cut through the houses.
The rain shower had washed the air squeaky clean, allowing them to see for real the extent of devastation.
Wrecked houses, broken posts, fallen trees…muggle bodies lay muddied on pavements and roadsides.
Harry looked up at the sky that was still rumbling slowly. The thick layer of clouds were lightening. Cold, misty fog appeared to be descending onto the land.
It was a blue morning, the kind of mornings witnessed on top of high peaks, where hours of day received no sunlight and no warmth.
Fog rolled through their legs and chilled their bodies. Behind them, sounds of celebration and merriment could be heard.
They crossed a street – a street strangely familiar to Harry. He broke off from Ron and Dumbledore and trotted through the houses. He could feel Dumbledore's eyes on him.
Through the rolling mist, he could make out a crouched figure in black robes beside a broken fence. It was silent and unmoving…
He turned back to Dumbledore who nodded.
"Don't tell me…" he mouthed and shot off to the figure.
"Hermione!" he shouted and the figure moved.
He rushed towards her and put his arms around her shoulders.
He could hear her sobbing.
"Hermione, what -"
He caught sight of Draco's body lying still in front of her. "Oh."
"I couldn't do anything," said Hermione through tears. She crept into Harry's warm embrace and rested her head on his shoulders, blowing her nose. Her head hurt from the strain of trying to keep Draco's image out of her mind.
"-and he-he was one of us. He was fighting with us, not with the deatheaters…and yet…"
Harry patted her shoulders. "I know," he said, trying to comfort her. "I know…"
"He was supposed to be celebrating with us, he was supposed to be enjoying this moment of freedom!"
"Maybe he is, Hermione."
Ron came up behind them. He saw the body and gasped, "oh Merlin!"
"He's not - you know-?" he asked to Harry, who rolled his eyes and returned to consoling his friend.
Dumbledore came down on his knees beside Hermione and observed the body. "You really think he's gone, don't you, Miss Granger?" he asked her, earning him a teary stare from Hermione.
He took Draco's wrists in his. The limpness in it caused her skin to tingle.
"Somehow, I don't think so," said Dumbledore, feeling the wrist
"Huh?" said Ron.
Harry watched the professor place the wrist across Draco's abdomen. His expression was firmly sober, yet there was a twinkle in his eyes that could not be ignored.
(xxx)
The early morning sunshine blazed into the room, filling it with warmth and light.
Draco twisted underneath the white sheets and stretched himself awake.
He breathed in deeply, listening to the air rushing into his nostrils and stared up at the wooden boarded ceiling, suddenly struck by a frightening thought-
Why am I breathing? I'm supposed to be dead, right?
He sat up straight with his hands at the side for support and looked around. He was in a homely looking carpeted bedroom with high windows and paneled walls. Sunlight blazed in through the glass, shrouding the room with light. A mirror at the corner dresser was snoring sleepily.
He rolled over and was about to start investigating his new circumstance when the door opened and Hermione came in, carrying a tray loaded with things that looked like medicine bottles, lotions, tea cups and breakfast.
"Good morning," she said with a smile.
Draco could never put in words how relieving it was to see her. His heart just seemed to deflate.
He breathed out a sigh and watched her silently.
"What?" she asked, her smile fading, quickly replaced by a smirk.
Draco stared at her long and hard.
"Where am I?" he asked her.
"The Order, of course! This is Mrs. Black's old bedroom," replied Hermione, depositing the tray on the dresser. She popped open a bottle of pills and emptied it into a glass, counting them carefully. The bright sunlight played against her cheeks, making them glow a healthy rose glow.
God, do you have any idea how good it feels to hear your voice again, Hermione? Draco wanted to ask.
He sighed again.
"And I'm supposed to be dead right?" he asked as if wanting to clear the doubt.
Hermione shot him a stern look, acting as if he'd just said a swearword.
"Honestly, Malfoy…"
Draco scowled and looked about the room.
Just then, the door opened and Dumbledore along with Mrs.Weasley and Tonks. Draco and Hermione, both turned to the visitors.
At the sight of Dumbledore, Draco's heart skipped a beat.
He didn't want a talk with him early in the morning. It would just make him feel like a scrawny bad egg by the end of the day. But he did want to know what he was doing here, alive and breathing.
He looked at the man as if he was a bug on the wall and scowled further.
Dumbledore smiled and uttered a pleased greeting.
"How're you feeling today, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Okay, I guess," Draco answered. "What day is it?"
"Tuesday," said Dumbledore, seating himself on a stool beside the bed.
"And I've been unconscious for like, how long?"
"Two days," said Tonks.
"And what exactly am I doing here?" cut in Draco, rather annoyed. "I mean, I'm supposed to be dead, right?"
"Well, you are supposed to be dead," nodded Dumbledore.
"But as you can all see, I am very much alive-"
"Well, Malfoy," said Tonks, "it is rather strange for anyone being Lord Voldemort's supporter and in-depth follower to have survived his fall and you are the only one known to have surpassed destined death."
"Want to know why?" asked Dumbledore.
Draco shrugged. Hit me, he thought.
"The good inside you helped you to surpass death," said Dumbledore.
Oh yeah! Now, they're going to start feeding me crap about virtue and goodness and love…
"But I'm a deatheater. I was supposed to die," said Draco.
He thought he saw a spoon clink to the ground and Hermione bend down to pick it.
"But you were not meant to be a deatheater and you were not meant to die," said Dumbledore. "You were never a real true supporter of Lord Voldemort."
Draco pressed his lips together and scowled, "I don't get it," he told them.
"If you want proof, maybe you should look at your arm," he motioned to his arm, "Is there a Dark Mark branded into your skin?"
Draco looked at all their faces, unsure about whether to proceed with his action. He shook his head and began to lift up his sleeve.
Wait a sec…
"It's gone," he said incredulously. "It's really gone!"
He looked towards Dumbledore, a faint smile forming on his lips. "-And I'm still living, means-"
"It was not meant for you," completed Dumbledore. "If you had been a real deatheater, you would have died with Voldemort's fall and the mark would have disappeared after you had left your last breath. Here you are, very much alive without the Dark Mark. Shows a lot, doesn't it?"
Draco half-laughed with relief. He could see that Hermione was smiling too.
"You fought for the good side, Draco," explained Dumbledore, "you believed in the power of good and this belief carried you through the doors of fate, fighting every thing that stood in its way. The light from your wand, the single beam of sparkling light was the spirit of a soul so pure, it was the final element we needed to bring down the empire of Voldemort!"
"Cool…" he said slowly. "I mean, yeah…"
"You were on the brink of realizing just how much power there was in you. True power."
Draco blinked, unable to believe his ears. He'd never thought of himself as a virtuous person, least to say, a person with some kind of faith. And here, he had one of the world's greatest sorcerers contradict him!
It was a moment worth remembering for the rest of his life, no matter how long or short it was..
But still, something bothered him…
"Does this mean I'm not a deatheater anymore?" he asked, the question popping into his mind out of nowhere. "I mean, now that I don't have the Dark Mark and all…I'm not on Hisside right?"
"Even when you had the Dark Mark on, Draco, you were never really a deatheater," said Dumbledore with a satisfied smile,
Draco received a spoonful of gooey medicine and continued, "And what happened to the stone?"
"The stone has been destroyed," said Tonks, "after its right possessor possessed it and used its energy for its destined purpose, it was reduced to mere glass. It's with the ministry now, gone for testing…testing for what I don't know-"
"But what really happened when the Dark Lord tried to possess it?" he asked, turning to Dumbledore. "Why didn't it work?"
"Ah, that," Dumbledore was smiling broadly now. "-that worked exactly according to one of Miss Granger's brilliant theories!"
Draco raised his eyebrows at Hermione. "Did it?" he asked smirking.
"Yes, it did," said Hermione, blushing slightly. She leaned against the dresser and told him, "Don't you remember me telling you that Voldemort trying to possess the stone might not work as they were opposite sources of power? It was something like that. The purpose of the stone was pure and Voldemort trying to take over its powers didn't work as he had the wrong purpose in mind. The effect was countered and we were able to get back our magic."
"It gave us a moment to collect ourselves. It gave you a moment to decide how you want to die," said Dumbledore.
"You made the right choice, Draco," said Tonks, leaning in. "you shared his powers, but chose to fight him down instead of die with him in molten hell."
"It made the whole deal of difference," nodded Hermione.
Draco looked at all their faces. It felt strange to have them all favour him so much. But then, he felt unworthy of it.
He was sure he'd never be able to get over his past. He was sure his past would keep on haunting him, and no matter what he did and where he went, no matter what he could accomplish, the horrible truth that he was once a deatheater would still linger by his side.
Draco shifted in bed and looked around the room. "Great…" he said to himself. "Just great."
"Now, the reason why I came here today…"said Dumbledore, rising from the stool and straightening his robes.
He took an envelope from Mrs. Weasleys hands and gave it to Draco. "Your fathers will, Draco."
He looked keenly into Draco's eyes and watched him take the envelope. "I'm very sorry to hear about Lucius-"
"Don't be," cut in Draco before he could finish his sentence. "Oh, look! He's left me the manor! The pile of rubble! Heard about Snape?"
This time, it was Draco's turn to watch the professor closely.
Dumbledore's expression flickered. Draco would have sworn he'd seen sadness and fawning disappointment in them.
"Ah," sighed Dumbledore, "it was most unfortunate to have someone as skilled as him play traitor to the Order…he deserved what he got…"
But Draco was sure he didn't mean it. Dumbledore trusted Snape and whether they were on opposite sides or not, he would have never wanted Snape dead.
Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. "You'll get well soon," he said, "Molly's been treating your head injury for quite some time and I'm sure her medicines will make a difference."
Draco nodded, looking at Mrs. Weasley. For once, she seemed to smile back and Draco felt good about it.
After they left, Hermione came up to the bed and sat down at the side.
"Arthur's suffering a head injury too," she said, "he was hit over the head and it's caused a lot of bleeding and damage to the skull."
"It's not serious, is it?"
"Memory loss, inability to recognize things…Mrs. Weasley is in pieces. Ginny's in a rather bad shape too."
Draco shrugged and curled back into the pillow. "Must be a hard time they're having," he said with a pout.
Hermione took in a deep breath and stared down at her hands.
"Not just them. Dumbledore's really upset about Snape and all," she said, tracing the lines on her palm, "Harry's blaming himself for Ginny's multiple fractures. And the muggles…"
She stopped suddenly, swallowing hard.
"We tried our best to repair the houses and all. We've talked to Fudge, to the mayor-"
"But that doesn't change the fact that all of them are dead, right?"
"Yeah…don't remind me. It's painful enough just thinking about them."
Draco understood how she'd be feeling. "What about your parents?"
"They're okay," said Hermione.
She then looked at him curiously for a second and asked, "Whatever made you think of them?"
"Dunno," he replied, "guess it just rolled in when you were talking about the muggles…"
His words put a small smile on her face. She had never in a thousand years expected him to ask about her parents!! After all, they were muggles without even a trace of magical blood in them. Why would he even care to ask about them? Anyway, it made her happy to know that he had thought about them.
In the silence that followed, Draco observed the shards of light coming in through the window glass, suddenly feeling tired and rather blue. He breathed a sigh, thinking of how things had got to this point of recovery in his life.
The journey had been quite an incredible one, starting from joining the Order to making the escape, to surrendering himself to the Dark Lord, to redemption…It simmered down to one burning question. "Where do we go from now?"
Hermione startled and looked at him. "What?" she asked.
"Where do we go from this point?" he repeated.
He was talking about them. He and Hermione. And the meaning didn't wear out on her either.
He really hated the soulful look on her face when she so often gave his way. It was the one she was giving him now and it made him feel so vulnerable to emotional changes.
"I-I guess we go our separate ways," she said, peering at the will in his hand. "Do our own things…now that Voldemorts gone."
Draco felt his throat go dry. Nevertheless, he nodded and placing aside the will, smirked.
"Guess that means you'll be pairing back up with Potter, huh?" he asked. "Just like old times?"
"Yeah," she said with a sly smile, "just like old times."
She left the room shortly after administering him the medicines and reminding him of his breakfast.
Draco clenched his fists and banged it against the side of the dresser.
Damn! Why was he so angry! She just told him that things would be back to normal and that she'd be living her own free life! What was wrong in that? Draco tried to assure himself that she was a smart, talented which who'd be just as comfortable with life after war as he would be and that she was doing a perfectly wise thing by choosing her own path, yet still… he was worried about how she was going to do that away from him, especially after they'd spent so much time together and even saved each others life and all.
Queer thought, he admitted. Very queer.
He was thinking too much and it was taking a toll on his brain. He needed to rest!
Yet when he lay down, head in his hands and staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but think: what would his life be without Hermione?
She was the soft warmth that crept beneath him every time he went out there looking for death, the fighting force that fought beside him during the war. She believed in him, right from her Hogwarts days and even came through the forest to save his life! He could never ever repay her for that!
He wanted to go back and relive the adventure with her, even if it involved risking his life again….
(xxx)
The sunlight streaming in was blocked by the shadow of a figure stretched throughout the hallway. Harry walked carefully across the plush carpet trying not to disturb the figure in deep daydream. He stood behind her for sometime, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the sun's glare and looking out at the backyard.
He then seated himself on the doorstep next to her, hands over his knees.
"What're you thinking about?"
Hermione turned to him, a bit startled. "Nothing," she answered, moving a few strands of hair from her face. "You?"
"Um, me…well, don't I have a lot to think about!" he said with a laugh. "…well, I – I was sort of thinking about Ginny."
"She's getting better isn't she?"
"Yeah…"
Hermione smiled and looked away.
Harry followed her gaze across the rooftops to the yellow clouds in the sky. "I remember that time when you and Malfoy came on the phoenix," he was saying. "You won't believe how happy I was to see you then!"
"Did you think I had gone off to the Circle headquarters to die?" said Hermione with a hint of sarcasm.
"I actually thought you did," said Harry, a flicker of a smile playing across his face.
"And what made you think otherwise?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. But watching you come down like that on the gliding phoenix - I'll never forget it…"
"You didn't care if I was with your sworn enemy?" asked Hermione, keeping a watchful eye on him.
"I didn't. The only thing that mattered was that you were safe, and – and he was with you, big deal really!"
Hermione laughed.
They sat in silence for a while, starting out at the evening sky. Birds soared towards the setting sun, their crackles echoing far through the clouds.
"Hey, have you thought about what to do now that Voldemort's gone?" asked Hermione, folding her hands against her knees and bringing them to her chest.
"Guess I'll try for the quidditch teams once the bans are lifted."
"Why don't you try for the ministry?"
"The ministry?!"
"Yeah. They'll offer you a great position! Maybe even Minister of Magic!"
"You've got to be kidding! The ministry is the last place I'd want to join after the war! what, with the horrible articles and the partial support they'd given to Voldemort…I suppose you're going to be writing a book about your wild adventure with Draco after this, right?" he asked with a smirk.
Hermione glared at him playfully, then laughed. "You call that crazy?" she asked.
"Yeah, I call that crazy. So come on, made any plans?"
"Well…I was thinking about taking up independent research study. Especially about geographically unplottable places and stuff. Or maybe just teach at Hogwarts once they rebuild it."
Harry sighed at the mention of his old school, memories of dangerous adventures filling his mind. God, how he missed those days! Thinking about it along with the present situation only made his heart twist with nostalgia.
"We should call for a reunion at Hogwarts!" he said out of the blue. "And everyone's going to come and - and Dumbledore's going to be there-"
Hermione rolled her eyes at the idea. What reunion was he possibly expecting it to be with half of the population of the school under the soil and in hospital wings!
Nevertheless, she nodded, a small smile on her face, thinking of only how magical a reunion it would be if something like that would happen…
(xxx)
It was the last dinner before parting. The kitchen was filled with redheads running in all four directions preparing the table for a night of merriment. The smoke of burnt pork (Bill's pursuit) and roasted salmon chips hung in the air.
Crookshangs had found a rodent to chase and was busily sniffing the ground for its trail. Fred, who was too busy overseeing his tray of canary muffins, didn't see the cat rolling in front and got his legs locked with its plump body, and - down he went, canary muffins and all…
Ginny was sitting at the table, shaking one leg and watching the course of evening take shape. She was feeling considerably better now, though the side of her chest still hurt while breathing.
Harry kept coming in and asking her if she was in need of anything.
"I'm okay," she'd say.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
That was how their conversation went every time he opened his mouth.
The monotony in it got her so frustrated at times, she could have sworn that had her hand not been fractured, she'd have ripped apart the stuffed pig on the table to vent her feelings.
Dinner awaited a small surprise for the household: Arthur had recollected two scattered memories - and that was all the cause needed for the Weasley family to really celebrate!
It was nine by the time the party started. Aurors, Kingsley and Mad-Eye got terribly drunk and whipped up the night with a strange cheering dance. Fred and George exploded snaps and tiny fireworks near the kitchen window, setting the steak meals on fire.
Harry and Ginny were talking at a corner and Dumbledore was nodding his head to the music being played.
Hermione wondered where Draco was amidst the moving robed bodies. The room was rather crowded and steamy, since all the aurors and Order heads were present, it was difficult to get past the witches and wizards without getting a poke in the eye or some form of physical blows from their wild celebration dance.
Somewhere along the lines of looking for him and keeping a watchful eye on the dancing bodies, someone hooked her by the arm and pulled her into the throng of people.
"Hey! Hey! Hey!-HEY!" she cried, feeling herself being twirled around. She freed herself from the arm and tried to regain balance, standing straight up on the floor.
The piper music played louder and louder.
Hands holding up glasses of foaming butter beer and fire whisky roamed through the air. The floor was pounding with the weight of so many bodies jumping to the merry Scottish tune.
Hermione, rubbing at her wrist, squeezed her way out of the crowd to the door, which upon reaching, she promptly opened and escaped through.
It was a relief to get away from the heat and light for some time. The smell of stew disappeared from her nose and she could now breathe in fresh air.
The hall was deserted and dark, except for the light from the party coming in through the crack in the door. She looked around the room, squinting her eyes so that she could see in the dim moonlight.
A figure was standing by the window, staring out into the night. His silky blonde hair revealed in the moonlight was enough to make Hermione recognize the person.
"And why aren't you at the party?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.
Draco looked over his shoulders, his silver eyes glinting in the dim light. He checked out her form and returned to window.
Angered by his unresponsiveness, she walked up to him and looked out the window.
"What're you looking at anyway?"
The street outside was empty, lights from a few new houses lighted the road. Except that, all was dark and dreary looking.
"I see nothing there, do you?"
Draco rubbed his hands together, smirking slyly. "There's a really pretty girl out there."
He watched her peer out the window, craning her neck left and right.
"Were you talking about the hag?" she asked sarcastically.
"No, I wasn't talking about the hag," sang Draco, his smirk growing wider.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, suspecting he was playing about something. She folded up her hands in front and pressed her lips tightly together.
"Who're you talking about? You betters tell me quick!" she asked demandingly, "If you're won't, I-I'd rather go back and enjoy the party. It'll be a much better use of my time then waiting around for some mystery girl to show up on the street and steal your hear-"
"Hey, there she is now-!"
Draco pointed to a girl with a blonde ponytail dressed in casual jeans walking down the road. "See, she's my mystery girl."
Hermione looked out the window and drew back suddenly. "That's your mystery girl?!" she asked disinterestedly.
"Well, yeah…" shrugged Draco. "She's even waving at me-!"
Hermione uttered a sound that resembled a feline purring and glared at him, so angry that she had been proved wrong. Her cheeks grew pink. In her state of confusion and partial jealousy, she forgot that the muggle girl could not see him or the Order and gave into scorn unthinkingly.
"Somehow I thought you'd settle for someone with more class, not some stupid girl-next-door who doesn't even have the wits of a dung beetle," she said smartly, ignoring his surprised look.
She was about to turn around and stomp away angrily when she suddenly felt him garb hold of her arm.
"-and why is that getting to you?" he asked teasingly from behind.
Hermione turned to face him, her cheeks heating up with an apparent flush. "It's not getting to me. Hell, why should it?"
But somewhere inside, she knew she was lying. It was getting to her for some unknown reason and she was starting to feel angry towards Draco.
Draco titled his head, staring her in the eye.
God, he was bold! She thought, twisting her arm.
"It really doesn't matter," she said to assure herself.
Draco smirked slyly and let go of her arm.
"So, why aren't you at the party?" he asked her. "If I'm correct, there's the whole auror community in there. You've got to be enjoying yourself!"
Hermione placed her hands on the windowsill and drew herself to the frame, looking outside.
"Well, being with the auror bunch in a steamy room filled with butter beer isn't exactly the most enjoyable thing to do, especially when you're not the one who's into Scottish piper music and dance…I suppose a wild adventure in the hills of the Czars would be a far more enjoyable alternative than to spend the night in drunk and drowsy company."
"You're seriously saying that?" asked Draco laughing sarcastically.
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Yes, I was serious about that! Why does it amuse you so much?"
"No, I mean – sure! It will be fun! we'll take a phoenix ride to the hills right now, probably chat with some mountain trolls, battle a couple of dragons, drink of mystic rivers, find some rare stones and be the possessors of the universe and then, come out half-dead and beaten! Yeah, it'll be fun!"
"Oh, don't mock me!" cried Hermione, shoving his arm playfully.
Draco cut short his laugher and took in a deep breath. He was more serious when he talked the next time.
"So, you really want to go on another adventure?" he asked her.
Hermione nodded, her eyes traveling the inky blue sky.
Draco could see the beauty of the stars reflect in them.
"To the Czars?"
"To the Sahara," smirked Hermione.
"Say we'll go there someday!" she gushed on, unconscious of his gaze upon her. "And we'll ride camels through the desert and spy rattlesnakes and eat from date trees and…"
She kept on listing out the fantasies she'd love to live in the barren African desert.
Draco brushed a hand through his hair, listening to the sound of her voice and the enthusiasm that bubbled out of her words. God, she was amazing, he thought with a smirk. How did such a vibrant girl ever end up as Hogwarts nerd child?
Looking at her sideways, he noticed the glow on her face resulting from the moonlight and the sparkle in her eyes, signifying the never-ending limits of imagination and phantasmal thought. She kept on tilting her head in various directions, giving into her narration with gusto. Her small mouth kept moving ceaselessly, forming words that sounded like a blur to Draco.
She stopped when she noticed him gaze at her with abounding admiration and rapture.
"Oh, you weren't listening were you? Did I bore you or anything…?"
"Not technically," said Draco.
She laughed and acted like she was set to stage another speech, when she suddenly felt his hand warm on hers. She looked up to see him watching her in a kind of daze.
"We'll go there sometime," he said, "and I'll burn my back before I come and get you…"
He winked, patting her hands. "Trust me, I will."
Hermione grinned and turned towards the window.
She could still feel Draco's cool grey eyes on her and was suddenly aware of his hands on hers.
The same thing seemed to flash into Draco's mind and he withdrew his hands from hers slowly and pushed them into the pockets of his robe, blushing slightly.
Hermione's smile disappeared, and she moved a few stray strands of hair blown across her face by the wind.
"Um, Draco?"
"Um hmm?"
"There's something I haven't told you that I think is really quite important to us…"
Draco raised his eyes from the road and looked at her.
"See, I really haven't had the chance to thank you for saving my life," she said, avoiding eye contact. "I'm sorry for all the trouble it caused, especially with your father and all. I know it was a really rough ride for you, especially with your deatheater status – you knew that death was certain if you'd made the escape with me and yet you …you shouldn't have escaped that night…"
"Why?"
"Because it cost you a lot, Draco… just look around you! You've got no one to turn to…"
"I've got you."
Hermione's breath got caught in her throat. She met his gaze for a brief moment, then looked away, feeling her heart pound like drums in her chest, and said, "Don't say that, Draco. You'll be leaving tomorrow and – and I feel like you've lost your whole family because of me! Just imagine how different things would have been if you hadn't got me out that night!"
Draco took a step forward and turned her face to his. "Whatever happened, it was not because of you, Hermione," he said, looking into her deep, dark, starry eyes. "You know my life has these sorts of things all the time it's a part of my life."
She turned away from him, suddenly feeling terribly blue.
Draco put down his hand and sighed.
"I know my father's just trying to play with your mind. I remember his words clearly. Hermione…"
He turned her around by the shoulders and made him face her.
"Listen," he said, looking into her starry eyes. "What's gone is gone. Lucius may have said things that played with your head, but that's what he does, okay? He plays with words. But he's dead alright? - And I'm okay. There's no point in getting upset. And just look, the smartest witch of the centaury is tearing up over something some dangling buffoon said - now just how crazy is that?!"
Draco, for the first time in his life, realized that he was comforting someone, that too, someone he'd never thought would need his consolation. It made him feel strong somehow, and to have her leaning on his words gave him bottom grip from nowhere.
"If you have, in any way, lost anything because of me, I'm really sorry for it," said Hermione, shrugging her shoulders timidly.
"I guess I just didn't know where I was-I mean, the last few weeks have been – quite an adventure…"
"I haven't lost anything because of you, okay?" asked Draco, putting a little more pressure on his grip. He shook her by the shoulders and gave her a grin. "Now, come on! I can't show you off in the Sahara with tearstains all over your face! What will the locals say?!"
He handed her a handkerchief.
Hermione sniffed, taking it from his hand, feeling horribly down and put off. She didn't know why Lucius's words had gotten to her in such a manner, and she couldn't believe that it had made her upset in front of Draco! But there was truth in Lucius's words: had he not rescued her, his life would have never been in danger and he'd still be having his father…
And the worst part of it was that because of Lucius's words, she couldn't even thank Draco properly for saving her life…
Dabbing her cheeks, Hermione folded the handkerchief and handed it back to Draco.
"Won't you be attending the party?" she asked, surprised at how different her voice sounded after she'd cried.
It sounded like she'd swallowed a muffler.
"No, maybe not," he said.
"Well, I'll be in my room if you need anything."
Draco nodded and moved aside so that she could pass. Once she disappeared up the stairs, he turned to the window and rested his forehead in his hands, wondering just what had gone wrong in a moment so fine.
(xxx)
Dawn had just broken over the land, shading the houses and streets with a faint grey hue.
Draco sat at the corner of his bed, listening to trees whisper in the cold wind. His trunk and bags lay packed beside him, arranged one on top of the other, piled up against the bed.
So, this is it, Draco. You're going to start a new life.
He'd planned it: first, he'd have to attend to some legal issues pending in the name of him and his father. God alone knows what awaited him at the ministry! He could barely try to imagine all the firings he'd be receiving from Fudge and he wondered if he could handle the suspicion of the ministry officials!
Then, he'd have to restore the manor, sort out some family affairs and look for some form of occupation.
He was considering doing business with the left over of Lucius's partners or start something of his own. Whatever he was going to do, it would have to be in par with the circumstances and ministerial restrictions.
Draco raised his eyes to the mirror in front. Catching a glimpse of his reflection in it, he sighed. Morning blues showed on his face, but more than just mood swings and quaint irritants, what brought about the blues were the thoughts of having to leave the company of a certain brown-eyed, brown-haired witch.
Sure, he'd thought of life without her. after all, it was inevitable that he's have to take his own separate path…but now, especially after last night, things were somewhat starting to clear up between them and their relationship was on some kind of definite platform. They were almost friends, no denying it.
They shared a kind of trust that differed from everybody else's. it was there, as a base. He could feel it in the way she looked at him.
And he felt that to an extent, she needed him.
So, when he'd brought down his bags and was standing in the entrance lobby, ready to bid goodbye to the Order, he couldn't help but break inside when he saw her. she'd come down the stairs to see him off and was standing on the step behind Mad-Eye.
Her face betrayed no clear expression, held up so tight, not even a smile could break through. Yet, in her eyes, he could see all the hopes she was having for him.
He smirked at her, and ignoring the weight of emotion hanging down in his throat, turned and opened the door.
(xxx)
Harry was looking at Hermione oddly. His glances kept flitting between her and the door.
"er-he just left, you know…" he said, pointing a thumb in the direction of the door.
Hermione's eyes were brimming.
She looked at Harry and back at the door.
The moment seemed surreal to her: the door was blurring before for eyes, the pale sunlight through the windows brightened and dimmed in the room.
She took in a sharp breath and remained gazing at the door.
Harry shook his head, confused about what to do and was bout to turn back and head for the living room when there was sudden movement behind him.
He heard an irritant cry, followed by the click of a door and out went Hermione.
(xxx)
"Draco, wait!"
He stopped instantly in steps, closing his eyes and rejoicing in the sound of her voice. He turned around to see her coming down the steps of Order, holding up her robe. The minute she stepped down, she rushed to him, a smile marking her features.
The cool, early morning breeze heated up her cheeks and as she slowed down near him, the flush darkened.
She stopped abruptly before him and took in a deep breath.
"Isn't there something you'd like to say to me?" she asked with a smirk.
Draco tilted his head, and looked at her with surprise. "What makes you think so?"
"Oh, I just know…believe me…"
"Oh, well…"
She looked at him with eyes so full of soul and expectation, Draco couldn't help but roll his own. He then raised them to high heaven and stared into her face.
"Thanks for believing in me so much, Hermione…"
Draco watched her face change. Her bright eyes seemed to be sparkling and the smile upon her lips outstretched its corners.
Hermione felt her heart brim and overflow with joy and before she knew it, she'd pulled him into a hug and was hanging onto his shoulders.
"Er-"
Draco started, unsure of what to do.
Just put your hands around her, you bumbling idiot! Just put your hands…
But his very hands seemed to have gone numb and he stood there like an issueless stick for a while.
Then, very slowly, very deliberately, he raised his hand and patted her shoulders.
The sky turned a shade of light yellow, with sunlight dispersed all over the clouds. The sun had come up in its full splendour like a pale orange ball at the horizon.
Draco held her for what seemed to be the longest time.
He didn't know what he was thinking, but it felt right to be with her like this, as if it had been decided by fates that they'd fit with each other in such a strange and unique way.
The curls of her hair felt soft and silky in his hands and when she moved back, it slipped through his fingers like silk.
"We'll be seeing each other soon, won't we?" she asked, stepping back.
"I guess so," he answered with a slight scowl. He was quite unsure about how 'soon' they'd be getting to see each other again – he'd be rather busy with the ministry legislations and stuff. but still, he had some kind of firm faith that said that they would be seeing each other again, whether it would be just by chance or on purpose -
"And we're friends, right?"
She extended him her hand.
Draco stared down at it as if it were a big ugly snake and tried to control his tongue which was going astray with words.
Friends? He thought. She actually takes me for a friend?
He shook her hand, forcing out a smile onto his face.
"Yeah, we're friends…"
He looked at the House of Black behind her, its huge dark form turning grey with the oncoming sunlight.
"I should probably get going," he said, looking back at her and feeling his heart sink. "The trains going to be leaving soon."
Hermione nodded slowly and stepped back. "Yeah. You're going to Hogsmeade first, aren't you? You'll get to see Hogwarts and all…"
Her expression betrayed her sadness and she was becoming increasingly aware of her mood going down.
She didn't want to say goodbye to him! She didn't want to watch him leave! She wanted to spend more time with him, as a friend, and as something more…she didn't know.
Yet, this was the chosen time and he had to go…
A wavering smile broke over her face as she last looked into his grey, silvery eyes.
"Take care, okay?"
Her voice was overflowing with sadness and she deliberately trying to fight back tears from showing in her eyes.
Draco gave her a brief smile and got ready to resume his walk to the port key. But before that, he did something he never expected himself to do: he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.
When he drew back, he could see the startled expression on her face quickly being overshadowed by a crimson blush.
"Yeah, I needed that," said Hermione, carefully trying to avoid looking at Draco, who was smirking broadly now.
To be honest, she felt like laughing. Laughing at herself, for saying such a stupid thing. For feeling so stupidly foolish. And for not being able to deny this stupid foolishness. Anyways, it didn't matter: She felt the happiest she was in years!!
Draco leaned in and whispered, "Goodbye."
Hermione closed her eyes, breathing out a sigh.
"Goodbye, Draco," she said.
When she opened them again, Draco was at the mailbox.
God, he's going! He's really going!
Hermione folded up her hands and watched him cross the street.
"Bye," she said more to herself, in attempt to cover for a sigh.
Then, suddenly, as if he'd just heard her, he turned back and winked in her direction.
The End
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A/N:- there you go! The End! Did you ever think I'd kill off my fav character in my own fic?! Never! Draco Malfoy is my heartbeat and killing him is suicide.
I'd like to thank everyone whos taken time to read and review for my fic. Thank you so much for your support in making CC a success! Its only because of you readers and the passion we share for d/h that I'm here, still writing and believing.
Lots and Lots of love,
elixirgurl
P.S:-Who wants a sequel?!!
P.S2:- everyone do check out "ShadowBall" – my latest work!