Disclaimer: HP characters still belong to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter 5: Disappointments
The Gryffindor Tower had never been filled with so much gold and crimson before. Hermione was almost dizzy from the sight. Everyone was either in all gold, all red, or a compilation of the two. As Hermione entered the room, the noisy chatter of all her housemates turned to one loud cheer of praise. Ron and Harry teamed up and lifted her onto their shoulders to carry her into the common area. When they set her down, a flood of individuals came to surround her.
Hermione normally would have not wanted this amount of attention, but she knew that this was her last chance to see everyone in the same light she had seen them these last seven years. She spoke to more people in the first hour than she had in her entire career at Hogwarts. And as alone as she had felt the night before, she felt ten times more popular this evening.
"Glad you came?" Ron asked, handing her a firewhiskey.
"Yeah," Hermione smiled, eyeing the glass, cautiously.
"I know you downed a few last night," he grinned. "I thought maybe one for old time's sake wouldn't do you any harm."
"Thanks Ron," she gave him a quick hug, knowing his action was innocent enough.
She sipped the drink slowly, enjoying the flavor and the burn, instead of trying to drown away her problems. She was just about to say something to Ron when a pair of girls started over to her. Parvati and Lavendar came by, jumping up and down.
"Oh Hermione, tell us it's true that you slept with Draco Malfoy!" Lavendar cooed. "He's so sexy."
"Oh Godric! And his abs," Parvati flushed. "It must be from all those hours of Quidditch. I'd die to have a moment in his arms."
Hermione felt her cheeks burn as she thought of how she had done just that seconds before the boys had shown up.
"Look at her blush!"
"I told you it was true!"
"Mione did NOT sleep with Malfoy!" Ron growled.
"She did sleep with Malfoy!" Lavendar giggled, grabbing hold to Hermione's shoulder.
"You lucky thing, you! I'm so jealous."
"Really, I didn't," the Head Girl told them, plucking Lavendar's hand off of her.
"Then why are you blushing?"
"It's the firewhiskey," Hermione smiled. "Get's me every time."
The two girls seemed to be satisfied with that answer. Without their gossip, they ventured off to the next victim, leaving Hermione alone with Ron.
"Mione, you didn't really sleep with-."
"Ron," she snapped, cutting him off.
"Right, sorry," he nodded. "I'll just be getting another drink, then." He scurried away, his face matching his hair.
Hermione walked over to the fireplace. A large arm chair was free and she gladly took a seat in it. The warmth of the open flames added to the already rosy coloring of her cheeks. As much as she tried not to, her thoughts centered around a certain blonde haired gentleman. Draco Malfoy was a complete paradox. Just when she thought she had him figured out….She smiled to herself. He was perplexing, a perfect mystery to her. She loved it.
And that posed a problem.
She understood how close she had come to kissing him prior to this party. It scared her how easily she had fallen for him. It terrified her how easily she had let into his charm. It unnerved her how much she wanted to go back there right now and continue what they had started. She shivered with excitement.
Hermione had done very few things in her life that were considered "bad." She was the typical goody-too-shoes, except when it meant breaking school rules to help Harry and Ron. Those things were easily overlooked. However, Draco Malfoy was not something she could write off as "help save the world." No, he served a completely different purpose, one that was selfish instead of selfless. She cared for him and not as she cared for Ron and Harry.
Taking a deep swallow of her drink, she thought back to this morning when she had seen him nearly naked. That vision had been buried in the back of her mind throughout the entire day. She had not been willing to admit it this morning, but now, as she replayed that moment, she could honestly say that he had one nice body.
Something inside of her stirred as she thought of him. She had been attracted to men before, but never in this way. It was partially because she knew he was "forbidden." She had always had a thing for dangerous men. It was one of the reasons why Viktor Krum had appealed so much to her. He was everything she wasn't and he was a risk. The same thing was happening in regards to her feelings for Malfoy, only on a different scale. This time around, the appeal was larger.
This attraction was both thrilling and alarming. She had never been with anyone before. Viktor and her and been on a few dates, they had attended Yule Ball together, and they had shared a couple of kisses, but things had never gotten serious between them. Ron and her had had a kind of backwards relationship, but it had never gone anywhere. They had decided it was better for them both if they remained friends. So this game with Malfoy, it was totally new.
And she had no clue what to do.
Draco sat alone in his private chamber, thinking over his earlier actions. He had never cared for a girl enough to chase after her. Of all the girls he could be interested in now, why was Hermione Granger the one to steal his heart. He knocked over a stack of books as he recalled how she had left him in favor of her friends. "Bloody hell!" he yelled. He slammed his hands into the wall and then threw his potion's kit on the floor.
They were from two different worlds. He was a Pureblood, destined to live a long, lonely life. She was the most intelligent witch in over a century, working for the Ministry. Even though she was a Muggle-born, she had managed to push through the stereotypes and make something for herself, while Draco was still the same person his father had been. He growled, tossing another pile of books on the ground. For the first time since that morning, he wished he hadn't kept her in his bed.
Dropping to the floor, he sat against the bathroom wall, contemplating what to do. He had wanted to kiss her from the moment she had come to the lake. Never before had such a drive of passion forced him to lose all ability to function as it had then. He had not been able to speak. He had only been able to stare at her. Each motion she had made was graceful and light, as if she was a goddess.
When she had his forehead, he had nearly leapt from shock. He had never thought she would willingly touch him, especially after all his crude comments about her birthright. Her skin had felt so warm, he had flinched. Immediately, he had regretted the movement. She had turned to leave and he had had to grab her. His reflexes were superior to most from his time on the Quidditch pitch, so grasping a hold of her wrist was not a problem. Keeping her of her own free will had been a different story.
He had asked her to stay and she had complied with little hesitation. At first, he had considered kissing her right there, but he realized she had come in search of him for answers. Draco planned on giving her just that. They had sat down and he had explained what had made him change in the final hours of his Hogwarts period. She had surprised him by saying he was a hero.
The word had done more than she had anticipated. Once it was out of her mouth, he had had an overwhelming sense of compassion for her. If he had followed his instincts, he would have not stopped at kissing her. For that reason, he had opted to leave. He knew that she had come after him, but he had kept away. His intentions had all been good and he had followed them well, until she had come back. Then everything he had worked so hard to maintain fell apart. All he had wanted by then was to have her, every inch of her, to feel her skin against his, and to know what love truly was.
Despite his reputation, Draco had never once taken a woman to his bed for anything more than a little fun. By every definition of the word, he was still a virgin. Pansy had been the real reason he had become so "popular." When he had refused to have sex with her, she had told everyone he was the best shag ever. In her mind, it was a way to get back at him. The plan backfired when every female in the student body expressed interest in the Head Boy. Well, everyone except the Granger girl.
Leaning his head back against the cold stone wall, he tried to picture Hermione up in Gryffindor tower. He could see her standing with her two best friends, laughing at something the Weasley chick said and having a great time. She was better off up there.
What future did she have with him? He wasn't boyfriend material. He was more interested in setting a new record on his broomstick than taking care of a girl. No, she needed someone who would support her, be there for her when something good happened to cheer her on. He wasn't that type of guy. He was too focused on himself, too involved with his own things to care about another. No, she was lucky to have gotten away when she did.
He had put very little thought into what would happen after he kissed her. Surely, their relationship would change, but what did that entail? Were they the type to get together for some fooling around or would she want something more? Draco was certain she would want a full-blown relationship. She was the type of girl that expected flowers, candies, dates, and other things that she deserved.
And what would her friends think? Hermione Granger, smartest witch ever born (and a muggle-born) dating Slytherin Bad-Boy Draco Malfoy? That would never pass. They would ridicule her about everything he did or didn't do. They would be on her until she either broke it off with him or drove him mad enough to break it off with her. He could just picture them trying to spend a day in Diagon Alley. What a mess!
If that wasn't bad enough, he thought about their family situations. If things were to get serious, and he wanted to marry the girl, what would their future be like? His father was a raving-mad Death Eater and his mother….he shook his head. That was not the place to go right now. He was fairly certain that Hermione's parents wouldn't welcome him with open arms either. They were Muggles, completely unaware of how easily he could hex them. And they were sure to know of the things he had done to their daughter prior to his affections.
It was hopeless.
At midnight, Hermione had had enough. The crowds of people were getting rather obnoxious. Many of her peers had gotten pissed and dealing with them was proving to be tedious. When the clock chimed the new day, she managed to sneak through the horde and exit through the portrait hole. Luckily, the Fat Lady was asleep. Harry and Ron had had to beg her to let the Head Girl in. Apparently, she had made some rude comments about the painting the previous night when she had been intoxicated.
The corridors were all empty, even the ghosts were out celebrating the end to another year. Her walk back was quiet. It gave her time to think. She had been contemplating about what to do with Malfoy. No answer was any better than that next. She knew what she wanted, and she knew what she should want. They were different, which made her decision hard. Was she to be selfish and pursue what she wanted, or should she take the safe road, as she almost always had?
She had been assessing different situations over and over again in her head. She kept trying to picture the outcomes to her different scenarios, but they were all so different and could go several different ways. It frustrated her more than anything. For once, she actually wished she had stuck with Professor Trelawney's class. If there had been any sign of what awaited her when she returned to her dorm, she would have felt more confident about walking in.
When she reached the door, she stood still. She wasn't prepared to go in without a plan for action. She had always been a planner by heart and now was hardly an exception. So, she made her choice. Announcing her password, "Hogwarts: A History," she stepped over the threshold and into the common area of the dormitory. Not surprising, Malfoy was nowhere in sight. The Head Girl proceeded over to his bedroom door and gave a sharp knock.
From somewhere in the room, she heard him mutter a curse. "Malfoy, it's me," she called, hoping he'd open the door. Things were tossed about and she could hear him mumbling to himself. "Are you alright?"
The door swung open and he stood in the archway. "I'm fine," he grumbled.
Hermione disregarded his angry tone and stepped forward. "I was wondering if we could talk." Malfoy watched her cautiously as she took another step closer. "Can I come in?"
"Whatever," he grunted, moving aside to let her in.
"Thank you."
Passing him, she surveyed the room. It was a mess. Objects were scattered all over the floor. She noticed some were shoved under the bed, but many were still lying about. There were books, glass, and even some potion ingredients. "What happened here?" she asked. "Are you alright?"
She bent down to pick up the pieces of glass. Malfoy came over and sunk down to his knees to do the same. "What did you want to talk about, Granger?" he questioned. She stared over at him from where she was kneeled on the stone floor.
"I wanted to talk about what happened earlier before I…before I left."
"No need to apologize. You're better off hanging with them anyway," he shrugged.
"No, that's not what I wanted to talk about," she stated firmly. Malfoy stopped collecting pieces of glass to stare back at her. "I wanted to talk to you about us." His face dropped.
"There is no us, Granger," he snapped.
"There could be."
"No," he growled. "It's better if you stay with your kind and I stay with mine. You're a fool to think otherwise."
"What?" she sputtered, staring at him in disbelief.
"Do you know what my kind of people do? Do you? Death Eaters don't just kill Muggles, they torture and rape them! Could you live with yourself knowing that your boyfriend is destined for that kind of life?"
"You aren't a Death Eater," she insisted.
"No, not yet. But it's just a matter of time before-,"
"Draco Malfoy," she hissed, bringing his rebuttal to a halt. "I thought you had changed, but now I see the same coward I knew before today." She was shaking. His hand twitched at his side and she knew he was fighting himself over what to do. It only made things harder. She stood up slowly, praying her feet would hold her. Biting down on her bottom lip, she waited for him to say something. When he didn't, she gave him a curt nod and walked to the door. "I came back here looking for someone that no longer exists. I thought "sod it all, I like him" but you aren't that man anymore. I'm disappointed in you." And with that said, she exited the chamber.
Hermione crossed the living room to her chamber. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she willed herself not to cry until she reached her room. As soon as the door shut, she ran to her bed. She had seen Lavendar cry over boys before. She had always thought of it as overdramatic and useless, but now she understood the pain. Her anger at herself made things worse. She felt stupid for believing there was something in Draco Malfoy worth risking her dignity for.
Lying on her stomach, she ran her hands over the cool fabric of her bed. Her sheets, dramatically different in color from those that she had slept in the night before, seemed foreign to her now. She felt out of place. No longer did her room bring her comfort. No longer was she pleased to have a spot to be alone. She longed to be in by his side. It was sickening how quickly she had taken a liking to him. All he had done was give her something that already belonged to her. She shook her head, another round of tears flowing out of her eyes.
There was nothing to think about anymore. School was over. She had the job she had always craved. But she wasn't happy. Not anymore. Things have been so complicated this afternoon when she had actually been considering a future with him. Now things were simple. There was no them, there never would be. Her mind wouldn't shut off. All she could hear and feel was the disdain in his voice and the disappointment in her heart. He had failed to understand how their relationship could have taken flight. She felt jilted and violated. There had been things she had said to him in such a way...the tone she had used...she had never spoken to anyone like that before. And thought she knew nothing would change between them, a part of her still hoped.
That killed her. She could not comprehend why she was still thinking about him. It was Draco Malfoy, the prince of Slytherin, the wanker who had called her a Mudblood more times than she could remember. This was the brainless twit that had gotten Buckbeak killed. This was the same slimeball who had been turned into a ferret, with good reason. How could she love him? How could she have given her heart to someone like him when there were so many others out there that were better suited to be with her? She lifted her head up from her arms, wiping away the stream of tears from her cheeks. She looked to the window, staring up into the night sky, as if waiting for it to give her the answers she sought. No response came, and she collapsed again into her pillows.
Softly, she began to cry to herself. She had never felt such a strong physical attraction to anothe person before. Sure there had been Viktor, but he was more of an experiment than an actual boyfriend. She almost smiled as she thought of how awkward it had been with Ron. They had always had some kind of chemistry going on between them, but when they had actually gotten together, it was more of an explosion than a cure. No, there had never been another time when she had felt like this and it made it all that much harder.
She pulled herself up and forced herself to stumble into the bathroom. She avoided looking at her face as she leaned over the basin to wash away evidence of her break down. Scrubbing vigorously at her skin, she felt new tears break free. Hermione splashed herself with cold water. The tears disappeared as she wiped her face with a warm towel. Dropping it to the counter, she placed her hands on the edge of the sink and stared at herself. She looked as she had always looked, but her eyes held pain. She would be ignorant to think it would be easy to get past this within the next twelve hours. Accepting that she had a night to go until she boarded the Hogwarts Express, she returned to her bed, ready for sleep to obstruct her version of reality.
Draco woke up at 5am, rolled over to look at his clock, cursed, and rolled back over. He had been waking up every hour on the hour since he had collapsed at one. His mind wouldn't let him sleep. He was playing the scene of Hermione telling him they could have a future over and over again. The more times he watched, the more eager he was to go knock on her door. But he forced himself to remain in his quarters.
Never before had one girl taken up so much of his energy. He had always expected that one day he would find someone that he could tolerate and would marry her. He had never seen "love" in his cards and he had certainly never expected Hermione Granger. Of all the witches in the world, he had had to fall for one that he couldn't have. And it wasn't even that she despised him. If she hated him, things would be easier. He could tell himself he was just chasing her to agitate her, but his constant need to be with her...it was a serious matter.
As a Malfoy, he had been instructed to never back down from a challenge. Though he was fairly positive his father had never foreseen a Muggle-born being Draco's problem, it was just that. Whether it be his upbrining as a young child, or his own free will, Draco didn't want to let this chance slip by him. Of all the things in the world, magic and science could not harness the power of love. As pathetic as it was for him to admit, he did believe there was a certain magic quaility to the gooey-eye emotion that flittered through the halls of Hogwarts. On occasion he even spotted Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagell sharing a look of pure compassion. And he wanted that. It was a selfish want, but he still craved it...and it wanted it with Hermione.
Almost instantly, he rose from his bed, but then stopped. She was sleeping now. She would not take kindly to him waking her up. So he once again harnessed his emotions and laid down. Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to stop thinking. When he opened his eyes moments later, the clock read 9:35 am. Draco stared at it for several long seconds before leaping out of his bed. He had overslept! The Hogwart's Express was suppose to leave at 10 am sharp. Racing around his room, he attempted to get dressed and pack the rest of his belongings simultaneously. Cursing every name he had ever learned to appreciate, he darted from his room down to the Great Hall. He hoped there would still be some breakfast awaiting him.
As he approached the chamber, he realized the doors were closed. "NO," he shouted, kicking the locked doors. He glanced down at his watch. It read 9:50. Cursing once again, he summoned his broom. It appeared at the nearest window. Unlatching the lock, he reached out for the broom handle. The Firebolt felt warm under his touch. He grasped the wood hard and pulled himself out of the corridor and out into the warm summer's air. As he mounted the broom, he realized what little time he had to make things right with Hermione. Kicking his feet back, he flew towards the station, praying he wouldn't be late.
