Chapter Five
One Last Time
The following morning Hermione woke in a better mood. The daylight pouring into the dormitory seemed to give her hope. Things would be better, because she would keep to the promise she made last night. Nothing would happen to Malfoy, not when she was there to help him. The day would give into night, and vice versa, and now it was time to make a new start with her old friend. Perhaps it was her groggy mind coming up with the nonsense, but it made sense to her then, and it got her through the rest of the day.
By her fourth class Hermione decided how she was going to talk with Malfoy. It was impossible to talk with him in the one class she had with him that day (Potions), and there was no use in the hallways; he was constantly with Crabb, and Goyle. It didn't matter, because she knew the perfect time to talk with him.
That night the common room emptied around eleven as it always did until there was only Harry, and Ron finishing their assignments that they had procrastinated on, and her nagging them until she was told to shut up for the fifth time. Harry didn't dare tell her to shut up, he would only sigh, grunt, and remark on her "noise;" it was Ron who would be so brave. He was lucky that she didn't send a flock of birds after him.
Hermione checked her watch for the time. It was twelve. Malfoy would be there by now. She flicked her wand sending her book up to her dormitory, and walked over to the portrait until Ron called her.
"Where're
you going?"
"I'm a prefect, Ron. One of my duties is
checking the halls."
He looked twice at her before the portrait closed. It was a very good reason, the truth even, but he didn't believe that was the only reason. If it were so, she would have gotten started hours ago. She was just thankful that he didn't press the subject with her, but then again, he couldn't, he was still working on his Astronomy homework.
The corridor was lit by the torches on the walls giving the little warmth it had to the chilling atmosphere. Hermione could almost see her breath float up in front of her. She moved fast hoping that her pace would increase her body's heat. Bumps rose over her arms.
By the third hallway she walking through her face was numb with the cold, and she could now clearly see the puffs of her breath. One more staircase, she told herself.
Hermione stood on the threshold to the fourth tallest tower in Hogwarts. The wooden door was the only thing separating her from the outside. From Malfoy...
The silver knob was like ice in her hand. She thought briefly of turning back. Her bed awaited her, warm, and inviting. The farthest thing that awaited her beyond that door, but this was something she had to do. She pushed it open.
A fresh wave of chills washed over her as she walked out on the tower. The clouds were absent in the sky letting the stars, and half moon lit the grounds better than the torches did inside.
Leaning on the low wall was Malfoy in silk green pajamas, a robe with the Slytherin crest lying in a discarded heap beside him. His nearly white hair was ruffled by the light breeze. He didn't take his eyes from the forest below, or gave any indication that he knew she was there. Until -
"Granger..."
Hermione wasn't surprised, he had the uncanny tendency to know when she was close. "Malfoy," she said shortly.
"What do you want?"
"You only come here when you're upset."
"Your point?"
"I wanted to know if I could help."
He swung around finally facing her. He was livid, but pale, paler than usual that is, and there was darkness underlining his light eyes. For a moment she thought he was going to physically lash out at her for the first time in their lives, but he didn't, his fists remained at his sides.
"It's
a little late for that, Granger."
"Maybe it's not. We
could go to Dumble -"
"No! What's done is done. Thank you for your sudden interest, but there's no going back now. I have to carry this out."
Hermione glared. "You'll die."
"That's my concern, not yours."
Fresh tears blurred her vision. He wasn't going to make it easy. She quickly became angry. He didn't hold that right. In the end he brought it all on himself. All of it was his fault. She was about to point this out when he spoke again, but not in the same cruel tone. His voice cracked.
"I went to that ruddy park every Friday, every summer for six years. Why weren't you there?"
Her heart broke, but only a little. The anger she felt against him was almost washed away by his sincerity. She knew he was telling the truth. "Why would you be there? I'm only a mudblood right?"
He flinched as though those words slapped him in the face. She hid any outward signs that would as good as tell that they hurt her too.
"I'll apologize everyday for the pain I've caused you, but hell, what good would that do? You'll never forgive me."
Hermione shook her head. "I want to help you. Please -"
He rushed at her grabbing her by the shoulders. There was a wild, desperate look about him that made her snap her mouth shut. "There's only one thing you can do for me, Granger."
"What is it?"
"Stay away from me. Don't come near me, don't talk to me."
"Mal -"
"No, listen to me! We never had a friendship, understand?" His fingers dug into her shoulders painfully. "We're nothing, but rivals, and it's always been that way. If Voldemort knew..." He looked pained letting go of her shoulders taking a step back.
Hermione did understand. She couldn't save him. The best thing she could do for him was let him go, and treat him like the enemy he was. "Fifty points from Slytherin."
"What for?!"
"I'm a prefect, and you're out of bed past hours."
He walked over to where his robe laid, and pulled it on. He turned to her, and placed a hand on her cheek. "Thank you," he whispered gratefully in her ear his breath brushing her lobe. She suppressed a sigh. Then he was gone, and she was left alone.
She touched her cheek thoughtfully, and went over to the spot where Malfoy had been standing when she walked in. She leaned against the wall. It was still warm. Hermione stared out at the Forbidden Forest.
A part of her didn't want to give up so easily on him. A part of her knew that this wasn't over. She wouldn't lose him... Then it occurred to her... She lost him long ago. She slid down the wall clutching her knees to her chest, her body wracking with hot tears as she thought of Malfoy being murdered by the very people he pledged his allegiance to.
Hermione didn't notice when he walked back in. She felt his presence sitting beside her, his arms wrapping around her shoulders. She leaned into him as he ran his hand up, and down her arm soothingly.
"Shhh, it'll be okay."
"Don't go."
There was a kiss on top of her head. "I'm sorry..."
"Just..." She sniffed, "five minutes - be my friend."
"One last time."
She nodded as she snuggled closer to him for his warmth breathing in his comforting musky scent. She didn't want him to let her go, but eventually he did, helping her up, and practically carrying her back to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He kissed her, one last time on her forehead, and she closed her eyes so she wouldn't see him walk away from her.