Sorry! I haven't updated in a week! Things got pretty crazy and I didn't have access to a computer. But I really like this chapter because it focuses solely on Hermione's thought process, and whether or not she should trust Draco. Reviews help feed the muse!
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
Hermione remembered the sound of Draco's heartbeat, her thoughts racing, her body tingling from the kiss they had shared over an hour and a half ago. She was walking back to the Gryffindor dormitory, the night air still, the only sounds that could be heard was her breathing and her own heartbeat.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
The night is cold, and she can feel goosebumps on her arm. Why did I kiss him? I was just upset with Ron. Draco is the enemy. He's cold. Thoughtless. Calculating. Remorseless. Sadistic. Caring. Kind. Oh god.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
She could still hear him breathing softly, his breath tickling the top of her head. She remembered facing his chest, bringing up a finger to trace the snake on his jumper, in the shape of an S. What does it mean to be a Slytherin? Is that what defines him?
No. His heartbeat is what defines him now. I had never been that close to hear it beat the way it does. He's always insulted me. Hurt me. I've only touched him once before. Punching him. But laying on his chest? That was different. He's human to me now, not just some evil little ferret.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
She remembered the silver and green tie around his neck. How can we let these colors define us? Green and silver, evil. She brought her hand up to her own neck, fingering the tie that lay there. Scarlet and gold, good. Draco is evil.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
She reaches the portrait of the Fat Lady, and says the password. She walks in, and sees the common room fireplace still crackling. Just as she makes her way towards the stairs, a voice interrupts her train of thought. It's Harry.
"Hermione! Where've you been? I stayed up because I was worried about you. You ran out of here and you looked upset. I imagine it had something to do with Ron and Lavender, but I wasn't sure."
Hermione walked over to where Harry was sitting, and settled in the chair opposite him. "I was upset. If you haven't noticed lately, Lavender has been galavanting about with Ron, flaunting him for everyone to see. Ron doesn't seem to notice or he notices but doesn't care."
Harry nods, and reaches for Hermione's hand. "I know he can be daft sometimes, Hermione, but he cares. I talked to him about it shortly after you ran out of here. He didn't understand the effect it had on you, to see them together. He's told Lavender to tone it down a bit. You're his best friend, Hermione, and he's never meant to hurt you. He just didn't think you were interested."
Hermione scoffed. "Didn't think I was interested? I was practically sending him signals for the past month." She smiled bitterly. "Although, Ron is quite daft. He needed you to tell him to tone it down." A sudden thought occurs to her. "Lavender, on the other hand, knows what she's doing. She feels threatened by me, and that's why she lashes out at me." Hermione bops her head, and lets out a gasp. "Of course! It makes sense now! Why didn't I see it before? She's using Ron as a pawn in her little game. And Ron has no clue."
Harry laughs. "Do you blame him? Ron isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he's always had good intentions."
Hermione smiles. "Yeah, I guess so."
Harry grins. "For the brightest witch of your age, you still are slightly ignorant to the games teenage girls play on each other."
Hermione hits Harry in the shoulder. "Shut up!" she says, laughing.
"Ow!" Harry cries out, rubbing his shoulder. "That actually hurt!" He grins. "Are you okay now?"
Hermione thinks for a bit. "Yeah. I guess. I've had some time to cool down."
"Yeah and speaking of cooling down, where did you go? I went looking for you after my talk with Ron. I couldn't find you in the library."
"Because I didn't go to the library. I went somewhere else. Well, I went to a secret, er, spot of mine. Then I went outside and sat by the lake for a good hour and a half."
"Oh okay. Wait, secret spot? You'll have to show me this 'secret spot' of yours!"
"Why? So you can snog Luna in private?"
Harry looked at her, feigning ignorance. "I've no idea what you're on about."
Hermione gave him a reproving look. "You know what I'm talking about. Don't play dumb, Harry."
He sighed. "How long've you known?"
"Quite a while. I've seen you both sneaking around, dodging into dark alcoves. You both aren't very sneaky."
"Please don't tell anyone, Hermione. We don't want anyone knowing just yet."
Hermione smirked. "My lips are sealed, Harry."
"Thanks, Hermione. I really appreciate it. I think I'm gonna head to bed. Goodnight." Harry got up, and walked towards the stairs. He stopped and turned around, facing Hermione. "Don't let Lavender get to you. Okay?"
Hermione nodded. "I know, Harry. Sleep well."
Harry nods, and climbs up the stairs. The door to the boys dormitory opens, then shuts quietly. Hermione turns her attention to the fireplace, and her thoughts turn immediately to Draco. She was still undecided about him, but she could feel herself become even more curious about him.
Could I possibly be falling for him?
Hermione's eyes flutter shut, her breathing steady.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
Flashback
Draco shifts a little, and Hermione's eyes open, her short nap interrupted. "Draco? Can I ask you something?" Hermione asks, her hand resting on his chest.
"Always."
Thump-thump, thump-thump. "What do you mean when you say that I quiet the voices in your head? What do the voices sound like?"
He hesitates, and takes a deep breath. "They tell me to do things. Bad things." Draco said quietly. "Like when I'm sitting in class, they tell me to Crucio Padma or even Crabbe. If I'm eating in the Great Hall, they tell me to explode the Ravenclaw's table. They whisper in my ear, like foul little pixies. Nothing silences them. Except you. The moment I see you, they become silent. Like they never existed in the first place. The urges I feel to hurt, kill, or maim someone? They disappear. I've had these urges since I was eight years old. Imagine my surprise when they stopped for the first time."
Hermione continues to stare at his chest, perplexed. "They actually tell you to kill people? Draco, isn't there some kind of potion that helps?"
He shakes his head. "They've tried just about everything there is. And trust me, there isn't much. When I first started exhibiting signs of this illness, Mother took me to many different Head Healers, and they've all said the same thing over the years: that I should be institutionalized. 'Put him in St. Mungo's,' they've said. 'He belongs there.' But Mother thought I should have a proper education, be with my friends and the like. Have a normal life."
"What about your father? What does he think?"
Draco lets out a bitter laugh. "My father? He has the same thing I do. He's a rotten bastard. Breaks my mother's heart, he does. Says rotten and mean rubbish to her all the time, yet she still loves him." He sneers, his disgust for his father evident. "All of the Malfoy men have had the same affliction. A sickness of the mind. There have been many murderers in the Malfoy family tree. My mother's side, the Blacks, is almost the same way. You've heard of Bellatrix, no doubt?" Hermione nods, remembering what happened to Sirius last year. "She's my mother's sister. And she's worse than me."
Hermione shudders, suddenly fearful. "Worse? How is she worse?"
"You know Longbottom? How his parents are in St. Mungo's?"
"Yeah?" Thump-thump, thump-thump.
"Bellatrix did that. And every time she had too much Ogden's, she brings it up, and after a few hours, she'd take me to St. Mungo's and onto the ward they're on, and taunt them. I don't know how she didn't get caught."
Hermione felt rage bubbling up in her. "That's horrible! Why haven't you said anything, Draco? Why don't you ever stop her?" She shifts, unable to calm down. "Neville has been through so much. His parents, infinitely more!"
"Hermione, you have to understand: Bellatrix is more powerful than me. She could kill me and dance over my body without giving a damn. In our family, blood doesn't mean a thing if you're crazy." Draco stared off into the distance, looking at the lake, a sad smile on his face. "I wouldn't care if she killed me. I'm not afraid to die. I'm only alive because I will myself to be, for my mother. And now, for you."
Hermione's rage settled down a bit, and she lay still in his arms. "Why do you live for your mother, Draco? Why do you live for me?"
Draco thought about it for a bit. "Because my mother is the only one that truly loves me in my family. My father doesn't care about me in the slightest. I'm just a trophy to him; a testament to his superior genes. An heir, a son. Although he doesn't treat me like a father would a son. My mother wants the best for me." He looked down at the top of her head. "And you, well, you make my mind rest easy. You calm me. You are everything I've ever needed."
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
Hermione takes in his words, still thinking about everything Draco has said to her in the past seven minutes. Am I still angry at Ron? If I take a chance on Draco, is it only to get back at Ron for hurting me? Should I wait for Ron?
No, another voice popped up in her mind. If he really cared, he wouldn't be dating Lavender. If he truly cared, he'd be with you.
"What about my blood status? Doesn't that bother you?" Hermione inquired, still unsure.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
"Hermione, I don't care that you're Muggle-born. If I could take back everything I've said to you, I would. Please believe that I want this with you."
Does he mean what he says? Is he playing me? Can I trust him? What about Ron? Harry? All my friends? What if they found out? What would they do?
"What about my friends, Draco? You don't even remotely like them. And they don't like you. What if they found out? They wouldn't speak to me or even look at me if they knew."
"Potter and Weasel? I don't care what they think." He scoffed, and snorted. "I'm more concerned about if anyone on my side found out. You'd be dead, Hermione. They'd kill you and then torture me. I don't want them to kill you. But I'm willing to do anything for you. To make you happy. To keep you in my life." He sat up, and Hermione still leaned against him, unable to look into his eyes. "I'd kill for you, Hermione. I'd die for you. Let me make this work. Please."
Hermione stayed silent, still thinking. He's waiting for an answer. What do I tell him? Am I actually considering this? I should ask him one more question.
"Have you ever killed anyone?" Hermione asked, her voice shaking.
Draco paused, and answered hesitantly. "Yes."
Hermione emitted a small gasp. "Who?"
Draco paused yet again, afraid that he might frighten away the witch that lay in his arms. "A nanny. I was four years old. Just began exhibiting more accidental magic. She refused to give me a cookie, and I willed the cookie jar to fall on top of her head. Hit her in just the right spot to kill her."
"Oh." He's killed someone before. How do I feel about that?
"Are you scared?"
Hermione held her breath. She let it out. "Yes."
Draco sighed. "I knew you would be. I've never told anyone that, you know. Only Mother and Father know. I trust you, Hermione. I want to be with you, and you have to know, I'd never hurt you. Ever."
End flashback
Hermione's eyes opened. Time seemed to have slowed, and her heart began to race. Is this what I really want? Can I truly trust him? Could I possibly ever love him? Can I live with the fact that he's killed someone? That begs the question: would he kill me if I turned on him? Even if he says he'd never hurt me? She remembered his grey eyes, noting the warmth that resided in them, wondering if she truly was the cause of that. He seems to care tremendously about me. Could I ever feel the same way? Do I actually have the power to turn this dark, uncaring serpent into an actual human being?
Hermione continued to stare into the fire, her heartbeat becoming louder.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
...Or is this just a trick?
She still couldn't decide.