Ch5

I appreciate constructive criticism, but telling me a chapter is horrible ONLY because you're not a fan of rape, isn't exactly constructive. Just because it's not your favorite flavor, doesn't make it bad tea, feel me?
That being said, i do thank you all for the reviews, even a bad review is proof that my story is being read and making an impact of some kind. =) I also wish to inform that starting with this chapter, there will be switches back and forth from Hermione's pov to Draco's pov. I will label each as such.
-Steph

Chapter Five

:Draco:
Hermione Granger. Truth be told, when Dumbledore had asked him, as Head Boy, to play escort, this was not who he had been expecting. There had been murmurs all throughout the school of her absence. The entire student body, and all of the professors, were worried about their beloved Gryffindor Princess. With the exception of the Slytherins of course, who only ever worried after themselves. Now standing in front of her, he couldn't help but compare this girl to the one he had last seen that day at King's Cross. Then, she had been the very picture of health. Her crazy mane of hair had been shiny and wild. Her cheeks flushed with color. Her eyes vibrant and snapping. This girl, standing in front of him, was a stranger. Her dull hair hung limply around her shoulders. Her skin was so pale she looked translucent, her face hollow and scarred, her body sickly thin. When she looked up into his eyes, Draco felt a chill run all the way down his spine and settle in his gut. They were dead. Utterly and completely lifeless. It was like falling into a void of nothingness, a black hole that threatened to suck him in. He looked away, unable to gaze into those bottomless depths any longer. What had happened to her since he had seen her last? What had killed her spark of life? Having never been a particularly compassionate person, Draco found himself resisting the urge to gather this frail, damaged girl into his arms. He wanted to hide her away from the harsh, cruel world that had taken such a bright star and ripped it from the heavens.

"Granger..." he started, faltering in his attempt at his trademark indifference.

She gave no reply, making no indication that she had even heard him. She simply stood there, waiting for him to direct her, her eyes glazed over, giving him the distinct impression that she was not looking AT him, but THROUGH him. As if he wasn't even there. And it unnerved him down to his very bones.

"Granger," he tried again after clearing his throat, "let's get you to your room," he spoke softly, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder, only to yank it back when she flinched violently, snapping her eyes back to his.

"Right then, follow me," he said awkwardly, leading her through the halls.

:Hermione:
Draco Malfoy. He looked different than the last time she had seen him, that fateful day at King's Cross. His face was not marred by an ugly sneer. In fact, he looked almost peaceful. Pleasant even. And then he touched her, and she jumped. She couldn't stand the idea of people touching her now. If she never felt a hand upon her person again, it would be too soon.

Hermione stayed silent for the entire walk, not even paying attention to where they were going. It wasn't until he stopped, and she very nearly walked straight into him, that she looked at her surroundings. They were standing in front of a portrait of a giant tree, half of which was healthy and beautiful, and the other half was twisted and dead.

"Huh," Draco said quietly. "It's never looked like that before," he said slowly, and Hermione caught him glance at her out of the corner of his eye, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Right then, this is the Heads' Dorm. The password is 'expectations'," he informed her, and the portrait swung out to allow them entrance.

Hermione stared around the cozy sitting room, soaking everything in. With silver couches, gold armchairs, white marble tables and bookshelves, and plush, cream carpets, the whole room was airy and bright, and not at all what she had expected to walk into. There was a white, marble fireplace in the middle of the back wall, and a beautiful, curving marble staircase in one corner. There was a window seat on the staircase side of the room, under a picture window that spanned the entire length of the wall, with a breathtaking view of both the black lake and the forbidden forest. Hermione knew immediately that this would be her new favorite spot in all of Hogwarts.

:Draco:
He watched from his position, leaned up against the wall by the entrance, as she took in the room, a look of awe etched on her face. In this moment, she almost looked like her old know-it-all self, committing every insignificant detail to memory. He watched her walk over to the bookshelves and run her finger along some of the spines. He watched her stare out of the grand picture window for what felt like five minutes, with her knees on the window seat and both hands pressed against the glass.

As he watched her inspect her new living quarters, he thought back to the portrait hole they had just come through. The painting was called Life's Tree. Before today, it had always been vibrant and healthy. And then when they had both stood in front of it, half of it had been ugly and dead. He wondered if it was enchanted to reflect the person (or persons) facing it. And if so, what did that mean for Hermione? Was she really so damaged as to make the tree appear gnarled and lifeless? What must a person go through to cause that sort of break? 'What must SHE have gone through," he wondered, pushing himself off of the wall and gaining her attention once more.

"Granger? Shall i show you your room now?" he asked softly, trying not to startle her. She jumped anyways. As if she had had the fright of her life. And when she turned her head to look at him once more, he met the same broken, lifeless eyes as before, and had to repress a shudder.

:Hermione:
She followed Draco silently up the stairs, trailing her hand along the marble banister. The sitting room was so lovely, she was almost excited to see her bedroom. Almost. But it had been a long time since she had felt excitement of any kind. She had months ago decided that she no longer remembered what excitement felt like.

There was a short hall at the top of the stairs with a door at either end. Both doors were open, so Hermione was unsure which way to go.

"The room on the right is your," Draco supplied helpfully at her look of confusion. When she made no sign of movement, he walked over to the tom on the right, and Hermione followed, stepping across the threshold.

The room was decorated with white wooden furniture, and fabrics of a deep blood red. A spacious four poster bed sat in the middle of the far wall. The left wall was made entirely of bookshelves, the shelves of which were already mostly full, only broken by a door in the middle. She noticed that her trunk was sitting at the foot of the bed, and lying on top of it was her wand.

Hermione walked over to it slowly, as if in a trance. She reached out with a trembling hand and stroked the vine and heartstring wand gentil KY, before wrapping her fingers around it and holding it to her heart. She could feel the thrum of magic flowing through her once again, as she dropped to her knees, sobbing. Oh, how she had MISSED this stick of wood. She had missed holding pure power in her hand. She had missed the strength and security she felt with it in her grasp. She had missed her magic. And she sobbed desperately as these feelings flooded her once more. Nothing else existed in this moment. Nothing but this reunion.

:Draco:
Draco stood in the doorway, watching, feeling as though he were intruding on an extremely personal and private moment. He watched the fragile witch hold her wand reverently, as if it would disappear at any moment.

Never in all the years he had known her, had he seen Granger shed a tear. She had always been a strong, formidable witch. She had always held her head high. She always had a clever comeback to his childish taunts. She had always seemed so fearless. And now here she was, clutching her wand, on her knees, falling to pieces before his very eyes. Wailing pitifully, rocking back in forth.

Not knowing what else to do, Draco pulled her door shut gently. He walked to his room slowly, feeling helpless, and wondering once more what events had broken the unbreakable Hermione Granger.