Chapter 6: The Girl Behind the Facade
Hermione sat with her head against the window. The Hogwarts Express sped across the countryside for the last time. She sighed and closed her eyes. This morning she had woken up knowing all too well that it was over. And worse than knowing she'd never have another reason to step into the school was the fact that she'd never again have an excuse to see a certain Slytherin. How could she? After yesterday, there was no more reason for her to ever speak with him again. The was the thing she regretted the most.
"Too much firewhiskey?" Harry teased, as he sunk into the seat next to her.
"Must be," she lied, opening her eyes to stare out at the passing scenery.
"Mione," he started, and for a moment she suspected that he knew what was going through her head. But then he simply said, "I'm really proud of you."
His words were meant to be loving, but from the moment they left his lips she felt pained. It seemed so pointless now. All the studying, all the house points, all the SPEW stuff... Sod all of it, she thought. Because now that it was over the only thing she could think about was all the things she had never done, the things she had regarded as silly and childish. She wasn't proud of herself. Far from it, she was disappointed that she had watched her entire career at Hogwarts go by without truly embracing it. Sure, there had been the battles against the Dark Lord and the occasional use of the Invisibility cloak, but she had never really lived, not like the boys.
And now it was too late.
Ron entered the cabin, munching away at a chocolate frog. "Hey," he mumbled between chews. Harry gave him a nod, but Hermione gave no response. She was staring at her reflection in the window. She saw a girl who was pretty, not gorgeous. She saw a girl who was intelligent beyond compare, a girl who had landed a very good job working for the Ministry. She saw a girl who had sacrificed her adolescent days in pursuit of growing up too fast. A tear ran down her cheek as she realized her biggest mistake wasn't overdosing on firewhiskey and almost sleeping with Draco Malloy. The real mistake was not doing something like that more often over the years. Now she was a grown-up. Now she had to follow the rules all the time. There was no room for error. If she made a mistake now, it wouldn't be detention with Snape for one night. It would be the loss of her job.
Harry's hand fell on her shoulder blade. "Mione," he said softly. She turned to look at him.
"Why did I want to be valedictorian?"
Startled by her words, he took a moment to reply. "You've always been the brains, Hermione. You love books. You love to learn. You always wanted to be valedictorian and you did. You earned it. No one slaved like you. No one spent so many hours in the library every day learning the seventy ways to use toad's wart." He paused to chuckle to himself. "You were meant to be valedictorian."
As she processed what he said, she nodded to herself. After all these years together, even her best friend only knew her as "the smart girl." No one knew her as anything but the bookworm. What made it truly terrifying was that she feared she didn't know herself. True, she did love books and she loved learning, but that was not all she wanted in life. She wanted to travel. She wanted to talk with people, both muggles and wizard-folk. She wanted to find a way to connect the two without disrupting their natural way. She had all these visions, all this goals. She had thought that she needed to be the best so she could make them a reality. Now, it seemed ridiculous. No degree was going to prepare her for travel. No amount of reading about communication was going to make her a whiz at talking with others.
"Are you alright?" Harry tried to hold her hand, but she pulled away.
Suddenly, she felt anxious. Realizing that everything she had been working for was worthless shocked her. She stood up and stared around the cabin. It felt incredibly small. She felt as if she were suffocating. The trees and hills outside were flying by so rapidly that she was sure she was dreaming. She gripped the edge of the door as she stumbled to get out in the hall. She was conscious of both Harry and Ron urging her to sit down, but she ignored them. Hermione felt her legs move before she fully understood what was happening. She was running. The other cabin doors started to blend together. She forgot about Harry and Ron. She forgot about the Ministry. She forgot about being valedictorian. She took all her accomplishments and threw them away with each step she took.
She got to the end of their car. Before she could stop herself, she had her wand out and was unlocking the door. She leapt from the doorway to the platform of the next car, not hesitating to spell open its door as well. The anxious feeling was consuming her. In the back of her mind, she was vaguely aware that she was having some sort of break down. She knew her behavior was unacceptable but an even bigger part of her didn't care. She ran full speed through the car's corridors, not slowing when someone shouted her name. However, when she reached the end of that car, there was no more train.
The breath she had been holding left her as she watched the tracks disappearing in the distance. There was no where else to go. Frantically, she checked behind her. Harry and Ron were coming up the hall. She felt her heart thumping loudly in her chest. She kicked the door shut and performed a quick locking charm. It wouldn't hold them off for long. She wasn't sure where all of this was coming from. She wasn't angry with her friends. She loved them, but she knew if they made her go back in that cabin she'd die. It was an irrational thought. By all means, she should have been in St. Mungo's if she believed something as ridiculous as that. But she still stood there, outside on the ramp. The Express jiggled a bit as the train started going over an old bridge. Hermione teetered on the edge of the ramp and noticed the water below.
She made her choice.
Draco had been flying for over ten minutes. He expected to be coming up on the train, but still nothing was on the horizon. He pushed the broom to go even faster. His cheeks stung from the force of the wind, but he kept pushing himself. He could hear his cloak ripping, but he ignored it. He could buy a new one later. The whole time he had been cursing. There were two reasons really. One was that he had dismissed Hermione and now she was gone. The other was the fact that his father was going to ultimately disown him when he learned his son had a thing for a Muggleborn. He almost laughed at the thought. It seemed so foreign. Who would ever expect a Malloy to feel anything?
Just as he was about to curse again, he saw a red dot. He dove lower. It was the train. He got closer until he could make out the windows. He wondered how Hermione would react when she saw him outside her cabin. He was sure Potty and Weasel wouldn't be pleased. He expected some very unpleasant sayings to come out of their mouths. In all honesty, he even expected Hermione to tell him to sod off. It didn't matter. He was here now. He was going to fix the mess he had made. He wasn't sure how, but he knew it was worth it to be with her again. Soon he was only about 200 yards behind the Express. He felt like cheering, inwardly of course. But his outburst would have to wait. Just as he got close, he saw her. She ran out onto the back platform. He momentarily considered waving. Then he saw her jump.
His heart plummeted deep into the recesses of his chest. He dove after her, ignoring the screams from her two friends as they managed to get out on the platform. He screamed her name, but the wind drowned it out. Draco positioned himself as far forward on his broom as possible, reaching out, but he missed her. She fell into the water and disappeared beneath the blue. He hovered above the spot for a moment, berating himself for not being quicker. Then, ripping off his top layers, he dove in after her.
The water was dark and murky. He couldn't see a thing. He felt around, but she was nowhere. He swam deeper, reaching out and feeling nothing. His heart was accelerating to a dangerous point and oxygen was running low, but he pushed further down. Somehow he found her. Grasping hold of her, he pulled her to his chest. They broke through the surface, both gasping for air. Hermione began coughing violently. Gently wrapping one arm around her, he began swimming for the shore. Draco had never fought so hard against anything as he did when he was dragging her across the water. They reached the beach in a few short minutes. He carried out of the water, trying to see if she had been hurt. Sitting her down gently on the sand, he stepped back to give her room.
Hermione continued coughing for several minutes, every now and then sputtering water all over her front. The Slytherin watched her carefully, trying to figure out how to proceed. There was no easy way of explaining how he felt about her. It would have been more favorable to do time with Gilderoy Lockhart. He didn't like admitting that he was the wrong party, though in this case he was more than aware of how difficult he had been. Hermione surprised him by speaking first.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came here for you."
"Why?"
"Hermione."
She ignored his answer. "Why did you do that?" she asked, gesturing to the lake. He assumed she meant rescuing her.
"You jumped off the bridge!" he nearly shouted. "Did you want me to leave you to die?"
"I would have been fine."
"You know, for being the most intelligent witch in over a centaury, you sure are stupid." Anger flared in her eyes and he was glad. It was the first spark of passion that he had seen in her eyes since bringing her up for air.
"You arrogant ass," she hissed.
"That's not what you said last night."
As soon as he had said it, he realized his mistake. Hermione stood up and stormed off towards the bridge. "Sod off, wanker!" she yelled over her shoulder.
Draco summoned his broom. He wasn't sure how good of an idea it was to follow a pissed off witch who knew how to hex him, but he was going to take a chance. He flew to her side. She pretended he wasn't there and kept walking. "Hermione." Nothing. "Hermione." Silence. "Hermione, for Salazzar's sake!"
"Don't you ever stop?" she snapped, breaking into a run. He realized he was going to have to make her listen to him. Pulling his broom up, he cut through the air until he was nearly upon her. Then, quickly, he reached down and grabbed her left arm. "Draco Malloy! Just what do you think you are doing?" she shrieked as he yanked her up into his lap. He didn't respond. He had heard that Hermione had a fear of flying, so he stayed close to the ground, but as for speed...he made no promises. He didn't want her trying to jump off again.
"Put me down!" she cried as they continued across the land. "Draco, let me go!" He did not relinquish his grip on her. He acted as if he couldn't hear her screaming right in his ear.
After the first mile, her voice had grown hoarse and she fell silent. After the tenth mile, her eyes were feeling heavy. By the twelfth mile, her head was resting against his chest. As Draco made the fifteenth mile, he found Hermione casually dozing against him. A smile crept on to his face and he brought the broom to a soft landing in the middle of a grassy plain. He let his broom drop to the ground as he dismounted, making sure to move Hermione as little as possible so as not to wake her.
He hadn't really had a plan on where to take her. Obvoiusly his place was inappropriate and Hogwarts would be closed now. Draco was not sure what he wanted in life, but he knew he wanted her to be with him. Ever since the morning she had punched him, he had felt a fiery passion within her. It was dark and dangerous, not at all the shy, quiet bookworm type she normally portrayed. He adored that part of her. It made him feel more human, like he wasn't destined to be entirely evil.
Sitting behind her, he positioned her so her head was lying in his lap. His fingers played absently with her hair, combing through gently. He felt an urge to touch her, to be in constant contact with her. It was a strange feeling to Draco. He had never been so drawn to another person before. It felt especially weird, considering the circumstances. Why now? he asked himself. After seven years, why did he now see what she was? He felt stupid for not noticing the passion before, for not understanding the girl behind the facade. The Slytherin bent forward, planting a light kiss on her forehead. He felt a shot of electricity run through him when his lips touched her skin. Hermione leaned into his touch, which delighted him. He sat back, his fingers unconciously winding into her soft tendrils once more.
He did not recall feeling sleepy or even closing his eyes, but at some point he must have. When he woke up, he was lying on his back, one arm tucked behind his head and the other wrapped around Hermione's waist as she laid across his chest. Knowing that at some point she must have woken up and decided to stay made him confident in what he wanted to ask her. Though he hated to disturb her, he began to sit up. The motion jostled her slightly and Hermione's eyes fluttered open. "Draco." She said his name in a whisper as if she was waking from a dream. It nearly made him mute.
"I can take you to the train station, if you'd like," he began, "but I did want to ask you something and if you'd let me explain afterwards, I think it will take some time. So the choice is yours. I can take you back so you can go home, or you could stay here and listen to what I have to say. I'm not going to fly you away again."
"Alright," she said. "Talk."
"Ever since that night I found you in my bed you've taken my life and completely altered it. At first I didn't realize just what was happening. I tried to deny, tried to tell myself that what I was feeling was physical attraction and nothing more...just a passing phase. But then you slapped me. I've never seen you so furious before. There was that time you punched me in third year, but," he shook his head. "This was different. The way you looked at me was crazy. I've never seen such passion in your eyes before, not even when you are in the library. When I woke up this morning and saw your empty room, it hit me. I realized how stupid I was last night and suddenly nothing else mattered. The Manor, my father, the Death Eaters...it's all rubbish. I want to be with you. I don't have plans. I don't know where we can go. I don't even know if we'd be safe. All I know is if I have to see you get on that train and leave again, I don't know what's going to happen to me."
Draco paused to take a breath. She had listened to his entire rant up until now with perfect eye contact. Now, she was intently focusing on her feet. He cleared his throat and continued. "I am asking you to forget about the Ministry and all the shit back at Hogwarts. I know you had plans for your life. I know this probably isn't on the list of things to accomplish before you are thirty, but I'm asking you, Hermione, to come away with me."
She sat very still as if battling out the answer inwardly. He tried to be patient as he waited for her to speak, but found himself pulling grass out of the ground in handfuls.
"I jumped off a bridge today," she stated evenly. "I felt overwhelmed on the train, like everything I had worked for meant nothing and then all I could do was run. I've never felt that way before." He didn't know how to reply, so he merely nodded. "I'm not proud of what I've done, Draco. I don't like who I am. I don't even know who I am."
"So what are you saying?" he asked.
She raised her eyes up from her hands to look at him. "I guess I'm saying yes."
"Yes?" he repeated, not believing it. It had to be a joke. She had only taken a moment or two to consider. Maybe she needed more time. "Are you sure?"
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Draco Malfoy, were you serious about what you said?"
"Of course! Every word."
"So am I."
The Slytherin felt his heart skip. "Alright then," he sighed. "Let's go." He stood up and summoned his broom, fully aware of how close she was standing to him. He felt her lace her fingers through his own and smiled. The broom appeared. He mounted first, helping her to get seated in front of him. "Where should we go?" he asked her, saying the words close to her ear so he could kiss her neck while she decided.
"Mmm, how about Rome?"
"Too ancient," he said, before kissing her again.
"Paris?"
"Too crowded."
"St. Petersburg?"
"Too cold."
"Fine!" she sighed, exasperated. "I give up. You pick a place."
"Alright then. We are going to New York."
"America! Of all the places to pick, you want to go there?"
"Why not?" he chuckled, as the broom rose from the ground.
And for once Hermione let her inhabitions go to the wind. "Why not."
