"Harry, will you please just tell us what is going on?" Hermione said irritably as they hit the fresh air of the chilly afternoon.
"Yeah, you're starting to worry me here mate." Ron agreed, quickening his step behind the two, who were walking with purpose.
"I'm sorry…" Harry started, not quite sure where to begin.
"No, it's okay," Hermione glared at Ron for being so insensitive, and reached out a hand to rub Harry's shoulder sensitively, "should we go to the park?"
"Yeah, sure." Harry said sulkily to himself, hunching his shoulders against the wind.
The three walked on, an awkward silence surrounding them as they huddled against themselves in an attempt to keep in their heat.
"Do you want to sit down? I'm knackered," Ron said with a yawn as they entered the grassy area opposite the hidden entrance to the Ministry, and without even waiting for the other two to reply, the man set himself down on a nearby bench.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione sat on the other side of Harry, refusing to sit next to the redhead that continued to irritate her with every passing millisecond.
"Hermione, light a fire or something will you, it'd freezing." Ron muttered, without trying to hide his rudeness.
"Do it yourself, Ronald, or are you incapable of even lifting your wand? I'm surprised your arms haven't moulded over with lack of use." Hermione scoffed over Harry's shoulders, which were beginning to shake, unnoticed by the pair.
"Don't you start that again, you know bloody well I do a lot! A lot for you anyway! A lot for us!" Ron raised his voice, causing Hermione to stare, wide-eyed in shock.
"Oh, you worked while I was in school did you? Saved a bit to buy a house did you? Ah, that must be the reason why my parents bought it then!" Hermione laughed coldly, all colour draining out of her to match the greying sky.
"You know full well I gave them money! And I paid for food for weeks while you-"
"Don't you dare! Don't you dare! We had to go round to your mum's every other day because we couldn't affor-"
Suddenly there was a smash on the ground, and the pair stopped bickering instantly.
The two pried their eyes away from each other and glared down at the floor in anger instead.
On the ground lay the remains of what appeared to be a glass jar, which was shattered around Harry's feat. Neither of them had seen him stand up in rage, let alone see him charm a rock into the glass, ready to set a fire in it.
"Harry?" Hermione questioned worriedly, setting eyes on his wet cheeks, his shoulders still shaking with both anger and upset.
"I don't know what to do, and you two being off with each other seriously isn't going to help me. Can you please stop arguing for one minute, please?" He asked, pleading with them, and he sat back down at their nods of agreement.
"What's up?" Ron asked, his voice suddenly soft, as he watched Harry point his wand at the glass shards that repaired back into a jar instantly
"I don't actually know how to say this," Harry began, trailing off slightly as he passed the jar to Hermione to put a flame in, which she then passed to Ron who was acting the coldest.
"Ginny's pregnant." Harry breathed out in a sigh, his head back in his hands.
"What?" Both Hermione and Ron shouted at the same time, only the female voice sounded a lot more elated than Ron's.
"I know." Harry turned to the man on his left, satisfied with his reaction of negatively.
"I don't know whether to be more angry that you've slept with my sister, or that you've got her pregnant."
"Oh, come on Ronald," Hermione said irritably, "he's been married to her for four years; of course they've had sex!" If she wasn't so annoyed at the boy she may have giggled at the thought, but she herself had had sex with Ron on, shamefully, multiple occasions, and that thought was nothing to giggle at.
"Yes, but never before has the news been announced that he's got her pregnant!" He said defiantly, still staring at Harry in horror.
"It was news to me too, believe me." Harry said, looking even more stressed as he looked at Ron.
"How far gone is she?" Hermione asked, excitement growing back in her as she set her eyes back on Harry.
"A month, or two-I can't remember. I've been worrying too much?" Harry replied, running a hand through his thick and matted hair.
"Why?" Hermione questioned, shaking her head.
"I don't know how we're ever going to afford it, for one."
"Well, look at my parents for that one, mate, they had more than they could name and still managed, with you two on top! I wouldn't worry about money." Ron stated with a shrug, trying to comfort him.
"Yeah, that's what Gin said." Harry agreed, allowing a small smile to the man.
"And you've got savings right? What your own parents left you?" Hermione chipped in, reaching over Harry to take the hot jar off Ron.
"Yeah…But it's not just that? I don't want Gin to lose her spot on her team, you know they don't let women play after giving birth."
"That's true." Agreed Ron, who was never actually a fan of female quidditch players until his sister joined Holyhead Harpies after finishing school, a position he was very keen on boasting about at parties.
"I'm sure she'll find something else she'll love?" Hermione tried, passing the jar to Harry.
"Is that it though? Is there something else?" Ron pressed on, sure that those couldn't be the only reasons why Harry seemed so stressed.
Draco felt the sun slowly sink into the ground, but he still kept walking. He didn't know his way around the city, but occasionally found a few stops he recognised from various infrequent days out when he was fortunate to come this way, but nothing noticeable. For a while, he tried to find The Leaky Cauldron, intending to head to Diagon Alley, but gave up after half an hour of blindly searching among street names and random strangers. He'd spotted a few wizards which he could see with hooded cloaks or wands pointed at the ground, but he didn't stop to talk to any of them, not wanting to gage conversation with anyone but his own thoughts. Yet, even them he didn't seem like talking to. You can get bored of yourself, and Draco knew that better than anyone, better than anyone would ever assume anyway.
It was now, as he was walking, lost on the busy streets of London, that Draco had that thought. The thought we all get from time to time, that Draco himself had had once before now, but had never yet felt the power of the question so strongly. Would anyone miss him if he was gone? He would be gone, eventually. Inevitably. Soon. But he could do it now; he could kill himself today before the tumour killed him tomorrow. And no one would know but the strangers that witnessed. However, the man was no fool and knew he was too much of a coward to do that. He had been in the face of death before, at the hands of one almost as murderous as cancer, but a miracle and sheer luck saved him from death. Sheer luck and love. Love he no longer possessed. Yet another emotion to be ticked off the list of things he couldn't feel.
His feet wandering about on their own, the man walked until he couldn't any longer, his breath ragged and his eyesight washed over as the images in front of him fogged in and out. He slumped himself on the floor, head in his hands as he allowed the wind to take control and tackle tears out of his eyes, with no energy left to fight them. Passers-by shouted incoherent words at him which he ignored, his mind too focused on regaining his breath, trying to numb the screaming pain in his head that enabled him to concentrate on anything but the cracks in the floor below him.
"How long have you been feeling like this?" Ron asked, a mixture of anger and relation pouring out of his voice.
"Not long, about a month? I think it will pass, but I just don't know." Harry answered meekly, embarrassed at himself.
"Have you told her?" Hermione flew another question at him, glancing a casual look at Ron.
"No." Harry told them honestly, standing up from the bench, his hands deep in his pockets.
"I think you should, mate, believe me, she won't want to find out when the baby is here."
"That's the thing-I don't even want the baby, I'm not ready to be a dad. Even though all I've ever wanted is a family, now it's come I'm...scared."
"But Harry," spoke Hermione softly, looking up at him as she lifted herself from the bench, "It sounds like you're not ready to be a husband either." She glanced again at Ron, the feeling of resentment coming back to her as Ron cowered under her gaze.
"It's not that-" Harry said defensively, staring back at Hermione before starting to walk further into the park, "I know I love her, I've loved her for years, don't get me wrong. I just don't know if I'll stop loving her."
"And you think you will?" Hermione spoke softly, her full attention on Harry as she tried to block out Ron from her vision.
"I don't know." He replied with a sigh, running his fingers through his thick hair.
"But, you just said that you're having doubts about staying with her?" Ron reminded him casually as he joined them, a feeling of embarrassment stirred inside him as he thought of Hermione.
"I guess I am, but I know I never will, I just feel like I'm lying to her."
"Hmm." Hermione muttered, trying to hold off a sarcastic comment as she glared sharply at Ron.
"Hermione, can I talk to you for a second?" Ron asked in response to her frequent snarls, stepping behind Harry to look at her directly.
"No, I'm talking to Harry." She growled, ignoring his request with a turn of her cheek.
"Hermione, I'm okay. I just wanted to tell you about the baby," He stopped and looked at her, before carrying on, "The rest...the rest I need to figure out for myself."
"But-" Hermione began to argue, wanting to help Harry aswell as not being alone with Ron.
"But you and Ron need to talk," Harry came in before she had a chance to carry on, "I want my best friends back." His voice was calm yet pleading, giving the sense that Ginny wasn't the only thing troubling him.
"Okay, fine." Hermione folded her arms across her chest with a huff and turned to Ron.
"Thanks mate." Ron mouthed to Harry, before watching him walk away, and finally turned towards the rather angry looking Hermione.
Picking himself up with a groan, Draco pressed one hand to the wall in order to steady himself, his new jeans scraping the brick with force.
He could feel eyes on him, but carried on ignoring them. Running his hands through his hair, the man put one foot in front of the other and opened his eyes to see the unfamiliar path that he must follow. He didn't know why he had to carry on walking, with his vision still obscured by his migraine and his breath still short, but something was guiding him to nowhere and for some reason, he decided to follow the pull.
Marching on, using all his will power that he didn't know he possessed, and using all the energy he had within him, Draco carried on walking. Hands deep in his pockets, he glided through the streets with an uncertain ease, stopping only to dodge the way of passing vehicles.
It wasn't long before his feet grew tied again and his lungs forced him to stop. Spotting a grassy area that was mainly empty, probably due to the dismal weather, he crossed over and found a bench under a low hanging tree, which provided some shade from the passing wind.
"So what's this all about?" Hermione demanded once the silence grew around them, the absence of Harry to drive the conversation milling between them.
"You bloody know what this is about." Ron snarled, lodging his hands deeper into his pockets, so that his shoulders hunched over slightly.
"No, I don't Ronald," She snapped, taking a step towards him, "You haven't spoken to me in months! Why would you want to talk to me now?"
"I haven't come to you? Why is it always me that has to do the running around for you?" The man growled back, taking a step away from the angry woman.
"Ha, that's rich!" Hermione shouted, turning heads of strangers towards them, "Less than a year ago I'd fall asleep to the sound of your voice on the other end of the phone, with-with butterflies in my eyes and lights in my heart," She stumbled on the words, unable to keep the emotion from her voice, "but now you don't even have the decency to come to me yourself, Ron. You have to do it through Harry."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked, both confused and ashamed.
"It's just cowardly Ron, using Harry as a way to talk to me." Hermione dropped her head, looking at her fingertips.
"Don't call me a coward!" The man shouted, taking a step towards her with a pointed finger, "You know bloody well that isn't true."
"Yeah?" Hermione challenged, her voice raised and high, "then why did you have to wait until Harry was upset in order to talk to me?"
"But we're not talking, are we? We're screaming at eachother, like we always do!" Ron snarled, ready to walk away.
"You know why we're not talking Ron, you know why you haven't slept in my bed for a year? You know why? How dare you suggest I don't have the right to shout at you! To be upset!"
"What do you want me to say to that?" Ron questioned, his tone high as he fought back tears that always threated to spill whenever he thought about what had happened, "You know that it was a mistake!" He took another step towards her, his arm outstretched ready to take her hand, only to get a cold shoulder instead, "and it was our bed." He added sourly in response, knowing that there was no way to win her round now.
"I don't fucking care whose bed it was, and I don't care if it was a mistake or not," Hermione screeched, her voice cracking as she searched for the words, "the point is, is that it happened." She took a step away from the man, not wanting him to see the tears that had sprung into her eyes, blurring her vision.
"How can I ever make it up to you?" Ron pleaded, following quickly in her footsteps.
"I don't think you ever can." Hermione didn't even turn around, but quickened her step away from him, her hand pressed firmly to her cheek, wiping away the tears.
"I miss you."
She heard Ron shout after her, he didn't seem to be following, but she didn't slow down her pace until she had rounded the corner.
"What the-Draco?" Hermione's voice was shrill and sharp, ringing into him.
The man awoke instantly from his low state of consciousness, his head jerking up at the recognition at his name,
"What?" He slurred, his eyes still half closed.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione said, panicking as she stepped towards him, quickly wiping the water from her cheeks, "Are you alright?"
"W-What?" Malfoy questioned again, oblivious to the sight of himself, slumped against the bench with his hair tangled over his sweaty forehead, his eyes half rolled back to suggest a state of drunkenness. If Hermione didn't know better, she would have presumed he was just that, drunk.
"Are you alright?" She asked again, kneeling down in front of him, a hand on the bench arm as she looked at him closely.
"Yeah…No…I don't know…" Malfoy trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper as the unbearable feeling of sadness took hold of him once again, brimming over to barely keep the emotion off his features.
"How have you got here? It's miles away from the hospital! How was the appointment?" She threw questions at him as she stood up, looking down on his unwavering stare with worry.
"I walked?" He said it sarcastically; his voice sounding some-what normal again, which he was thankful for; obviously he had walked-but the fact scared him a little. He didn't even realise he was walking, or that he had stopped.
"How was the appointment?" She asked again, keen to keep conversation light as she allowed her mind to wander how he had got there.
"Same as always." He snapped, feeling no reason why he should talk to her.
"Right…"
Taking Draco's cue, Hermione said no more, leaving the silence strong between them for some time. Hermione looking down at the pale and stressed state of the venerable man, who she still had memories of hexing her. Although she felt awkward, Hermione didn't sit down, believing that her unbound stare from above would prompt him to say more than a few words, but her efforts seemed fruitless.
"You look like my doctor." Draco said suddenly, his gaze still fixed straight ahead, but by the split second look on his face, he was just as confused as Hermione that he had said it.
"Great?" She asked, trying hard to keep the sarcasm as she looked down at him.
"She's blonde though, with straight hair…" He added as an afterthought, his eyes breaking from their trance for a fleeting moment as he looked at Hermione, who turned herself around and sat down next to him, brushing down her skirt as she sensed an opportunity to keep him talking.
"What did she say today?"
"Little more than usual," He sighed with his eyebrows raised, "except that I have less than a month," Hermione gasped, shocked, unable to know what to say-for once.
He didn't say it with much emotion, but the way his shoulders sagged at the words gave Hermione a feeling there was more to his coldness than he was letting on.
"So you'll have your spare room back in a few weeks." He continued after Hermione failed to speak.
"What?" She gasped again, "I've said, that's no worry, none at all; I've actually got quite used to the company." She was talking nonsense, nothing that would make his words mean any less, but the sentence just rolled out of her before she had a chance.
"Well I guess you'll just have to get used to it again then." He sighed deeply, and silence ensued between the two again.
Hermione shifted in her seat, fidgeting with the folders in her arms as she heard Draco suddenly start to cry.
Loud sobs emitted from within him, coming without warning or intention, yet sounding like they had been trapped inside bursting to come out. He gulped down a lump in his throat that he didn't know had arisen, breathing in a sharp breath that he didn't know he was holding. He let out stuttered breaths, heaving in noisily as his shoulders shaked beyond his control. Using the hem of his jacket sleeve, he wiped at his nose and cheeks, trying to rid himself of the non-stop liquid travelling down his face.
All humiliation he had was masked by the overwhelming feeling of sadness; right now, he didn't care that a woman he had only been calling by first name for a week was sitting right next to him, trying to ignore him, and nor did he care that he was totally exposed to crying in front of muggles and wizards alike. He had finally recognised where he was, his destination being just outside the Ministry of Magic. It must have been a coincidence that his feet had led him here, but he didn't have it in his heart to care.
All the thoughts, all the feelings that he had had throughout the past few days- the past few months even-flew past his mind and jumbled inside his brain, whizzing in and out, screaming louder and louder until he forgot the reason why the tears had even started.
His sobs continued to grow louder, with his shuddery breathing more and more rapid until he managed to gain control. He'd tried with little success to steer himself, to stop the pent up emotion from escaping him and brimming over, but it had took a long while before it happened. His useless brain wouldn't let him stop when he wanted. Not that it would let him to anything he wanted to nowadays.
He knew Hermione had noticed his sobbing; it would have been hard for her not to have. But to Draco's upmost thanks and approval, she did not say a word, but continued to look down at the files on her lap, shifting the papers awkwardly from time to time.
It was only when the sobs had decreased and his breathing steadier, did the woman finally turn to him,
"Draco, what's wrong?" She asked softly, her voice rasped like silk as she threaded the question through the air, genuinely worried as she tried not to look upon his face.
"I…don't…know." He answered between sobs, which were starting to die down now.
"There must be something wrong? For you to feel like this?" She kept her voice light and soft, treading carefully in order to get some sort of answer out of him.
"It's stupid." He hiccupped eventually, after some pause as he contemplated his answer.
"Nothing's stupid if it makes you sad." Hermione's voice cracked slightly as she tried to hold back emotion.
Normally, Draco would have snarled at a comment like this, and at her starting to cry, but right now all he wanted to do was actually tell someone, in order to clear the mess in his head.
"I guess it's a lot of things," He started, and Hermione let out a silent sigh of relief as she turned fully to watch his face as he talked, knowing that she shouldn't stop him,
"Part of me just wants to live, to be okay and to not know what the future holds-but part of me wants to just get this over and done with. My life has never been an overly happy one; I can probably count on one hand the amount of moments that have actually made me genuinely happy. Not that I remember any of them. And now I can't even have any more of them…
"I just feel trapped, trapped within this illness that's eating away at my memories and my life, leaving me lost to the point I can't remember key moments of my life. Every day I wake up and check if I'm alive, and it's only when I swallow the first tablets that I realise I am, and I realise that I'm not even that happy about it," He bowed his head and sighed heavily before continuing, "I just feel alone,
Draco looked up to see Hermione looking both shocked and confused, as well as a sure struggle to keep herself from crying.
"I'm not lonely, I'm alone," he reassured her, "I just feel like I have no one in this but me. I can't trust any of these people because they don't know me. I keep nearly talking about floo powder or pumpkin pasties to random muggles that ask me random questions like 'how are you feeling today?' The same as I bloody felt last time you asked, only this time I have less time to live,
He paused for breath, but Hermione didn't interrupt-knowing he was on a tangent of speaking thoughts as they came to him, thoughts that had obviously been bothering about for some time, thoughts he had never shared with anyone else before her. The thought gave her chills, but she didn't question this decision.
"And they keep telling me that in order not to be alone in this, then I should go to some fucking 'We're All In This Together' cancer bollocks in some random church where you can all 'support' eachother through this 'hard time', The man used his index fingers to quote sarcastically, spitting out the words with sheer disgust,
"So what, I'm not the only fucking one with cancer, but that doesn't make this any less easy."
"You're not alone in this, you need to know that. You're not-" Hermione told him anxiously, unable to keep her tongue as his words cut through her like knives, spilling empathy from her.
"What else do I need to know?" He snapped, fed up with all the rules.
"Draco..."
"No, Hermione. I keep being told by people how to think, how to feel, what to do. What if I want to feel alone? What if I want to think on my own? But I can't think. I can't fucking feel because I have a big great lump growing inside of my brain, with no way out."
"Yes you can, Draco, you're still human. No matter what happens, you're still human."
"I don't feel fucking human, Hermione," He spat out her name, twisting the syllables as a way to use it against her, "And I don't need you to feel anything for me because I'm going to die. I don't even need to feel anything because I'm going to die."
Hermione chocked back the tears and said no more, instead choosing once again to sit in silence as she listened to the breaths of Draco Malfoy rise and fall beside her. Silent tears found their way down her cheeks, leading a soft trail through her already stained makeup.
What could she do? A man couldn't die feeling like this. No one should ever feel like this. Yet, there was nothing in her old Standard Book of Spells that told her about human emotions. Nothing ever would.
If only there was something real she could hold onto, something to give him to make everything alright.
If only there was a cure.