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Chapter 8::
Heart Break

Nerves shook her as Hermione stood in front of the portrait leading to the Gryffindor common room. The moment she walked in, she knew she would be bombarded with questions concerning her collapse and why Malfoy was seen carrying her through the school. She'd managed to dodge that bullet once when Harry and Ron brought over her homework. They had, luckily for her, shown up with her assignments just five minutes after she fell asleep. Madam Pomphrey made them promise not to wake her up; another thing she'd eventually have to repay the witch for.

But, now here she was with her current dilemma. It was morning on a Saturday, which guaranteed that all her friends would present. Breakfast had just ended, so she knew there was no way out of this. If she didn't go to them first, they would eventually come to her later. So, with that thought, she said the password and walked into the common room with her head held high. However, the moment she was in the middle of the room, relief started to wash over her. The only person present in the common room was Harry.

"Harry?" She asked, walking towards the figure on the overstuffed chair.

Hearing his name, Harry turned around, trying to keep his messy hair out of his face.

"Oh, Hermione! I was wondering when you were going to be released from the hospital."

Hermione smiled as he enveloped her in a tight hug. Moments like these were the reason she loved her friends so much. Harry in particular. He just had this way of making her know everything was going to be alright when it so obviously wasn't. When he pulled back slightly, his hands remained clutched on her shoulders as he looked her up and down.

"Well," he said, once he was satisfied, "it doesn't look like you have anything damaged. Guess I won't have to kill Malfoy, after all."

The smile that broke across her face was so large that she could feel the skin stretch next to her ears. "No, Harry." She lightly patted the side of his face. "Killing Malfoy would not be a good idea."

"It might be," he pushed her lightly to the couch, "Unless you tell me what the bloody hell happened three days ago. Why was Malfoy carrying you to the hospital? Was he the one who made you collapse?"

Sighing, she couldn't stop chiding herself. There was no doubt in her mind that the rumors had gotten bad. Now she would have to go around reassuring everyone that Draco Malfoy did not harm her in any way. "No, Harry. Malfoy didn't do anything to me. All he did was help me when I was in a rough patch."

He nodded. "Then, you'd better explain this rough patch, Mione. I don't like being clueless when it comes to what is wrong with my best friend."

"I know." She took in a deep breath and told him the outlined version. "This last year has been really tough. I've been going on a rollercoaster of emotions and with all the worry about NEWTS this year, I guess I just snapped."

"Snapped?" His voice was disbelieving.

She nodded. "Yes, snapped. I just had an emotional overload and collapsed. I ran outside to get some air and Malfoy found me crying. He tried to convince me to go to the hospital wing and I yelled at him. I guess I just let it go too far and my brain just shut down. It wasn't that big of a deal."

He was silent for just a second. "You need to not lie to me." Hurt filled Harry's eyes.

Her heart stung at the sight. "I'm not lying to you." She was just not telling the whole truth.

"Fine, maybe lying is the wrong choice of words. But, I do know that you are hiding something from me."

"That's not really true."

"Yes, it is, Hermione. Since when have we not been able to tell each other everything?" The hurt became more pronounced.

"It's not that simple, Harry." Her voice slowly started to turn into a whisper.

"Hermione, it doesn't have to be simple. It can be the hardest damn thing in the world and I would still want you to tell me. So, please, tell me." His brilliant green eyes shone bright as he said this.

Hermione felt the immediate crush of guilt. She knew he would be able to take it, but that wasn't the point. The point was that she didn't want him to have to take it. It would cripple him and he would try everything he could to save her. She knew that he would risk everything; including his engagement. She couldn't let that happen, but she knew she would have to tell him eventually. The problem that now presented itself, was whether or not she was willing to tell him now. Maybe she was…

"Harry—" she started.

"Miss Granger?"

She turned her head, seeing Professor McGonagall standing in the portrait hole with her arms crossed. This didn't look good. "Yes, Headmistress?"

"I need to speak with you in my office at once." Her voice was short and to the point.

Clearing her throat, Hermione stood. "Professor, might I inquire as to why?"

The older witch nodded her head stiffly. "It is pertaining to Mr. Malfoy. The Minister and I have heard rumors about him harming you Wednesday afternoon. If you don't come with me, he will be shipped to Azkaban to finish out the remainder of his sentence."

Hermione felt her heart give an unfamiliar jolt. Draco Malfoy hadn't done anything to her! And yet, here he was, about to be shipped to the worst place imaginable just because he helped her? No way! Turning back to Harry, she murmured an apology before following the Headmistress out of the room. As they walked through the halls, students were lined up against the walls watching her walk with the Headmistress to her study. Many of them were whispering amongst themselves, probably starting more rumors.

Sighing, Hermione couldn't stop thinking about how much she really hated rumors.

Anger was pulsating through every inch of Draco's body. All he did was try to help the stupid Hermione Granger and this is where it gets him. It gets him trapped between two Aurors and the Minister of Magic with a warrant for his arrest. Cramped and cranky, he fidgeted in his seat and tried to not look at any of the men sitting around him. Not only had they called him to the office, but they had literally pulled him out of his bed two hours before. And now, they were currently sitting in the Headmistress' office and waiting for her to come back with Hermione Granger. Growling lightly, Draco knew that all she would have to do was tell them the truth and he would be allowed to stay in school and away from Azkaban.

To be honest, however, that was the part that was worrying him the most. He wasn't overly sure that she would tell them the truth. The last time they had spoken, she didn't seem all too happy with him. He supposed that was his fault, for he was the one who kept pushing. Granted, it wasn't any of his business what was going on with her. Though, after what he saw the day he had rushed her to the hospital wing? Hermione Granger owed him some sort of an explanation. It couldn't honestly be that bad, anyway. What could be so wrong with the Golden Trio's brain that she had to keep it a secret?

"She's back." One of the Aurors, a burly looking man, said as he heard the staircase started to move.

Kingsley, the new Minister, fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, I know, Wilson. Thank you."

Draco tried to not laugh. They could all hear the bloody stairs; it wasn't like it was quiet. Just the mere fact that the burly man, Wilson, was so daft that he had to verbally announce the obvious was hilarious. It would seem that applying for the academy no longer required having brains. And if he had to be honest, that frightened him somewhat. These were the people that protected the wizarding world from evil. If they weren't smart, how were they going to protect a whole civilization of people? Bloody hell, Draco didn't think they could protect an owl. Snorting, he couldn't help but understand how Voldemort had managed to get as far as he did. If all Aurors were like this, it was no wonder evil almost won.

The sound of the opening door caught his attention, drawing him out of his thoughts. Sure enough, McGonagall walked in with Hermione Granger on her tale. It would appear that at the sight of the army they had sent to acquire Draco was one Granger liked. For the moment she met his eyes, her face paled, if it were even possible. She was already ghostly pale as it was. With shaking hands, Hermione sat in the only available seat at the foot of McGonagall's desk. Funnily enough, it was the one right next to Minister Kingsley.

"Hello, Hermione, how are you doing today?" The minister asked pleasantly.

She gave a small smile, "I'm doing pretty well, I must say, Kingsley. Yourself?"

"I'm doing well. It's been difficult trying to make time between Minister Duties and the Order." He gave her an encouraging smile.

Draco could see that he Kingsley didn't like making Hermione nervous. He got the feeling they were old friends. Somehow, that irked him. He wasn't really sure he liked all these random men being friends with Hermione. What was wrong with him!?

Hermione gave a nervous laugh, "Indeed. I'd imagine it would be very busy. How's Arthur doing?"

Kingsley laughed at a random thought that Draco didn't understand. "He is well. To be honest, the man is enjoying himself. Being the Head of the Department of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office is agreeing with him, I'd say."

"I'm glad." She smiled again before turning her eyes to the Headmistress.

"Now," McGonagall got down to business. "Miss Granger, you know why you are here, correct?"

"Yes, Professor." Hermione's voice shook with nerves. She really didn't want to be there.

"Can you please tell us what happened Wednesday night before you were admitted into the Hospital Wing?" The old witch asked, sitting straight behind her desk.

"Uh," Hermione stuttered slightly, which puzzled Draco. She's never been nervous about telling facts. "Well, where do you want me to start?"

McGonagall raised her eyebrows, "Just start at the beginning."

Hermione was afraid she would say that. "Alright. Well, I was in the common room working on assignments and talking to Ginny. She told me some good news and I got really excited. When Ginny left however some other things crossed my mind and I just felt like I couldn't take it anymore. That was when I started feeling like I needed some air."

Draco sat back and listened. He could tell that there was something underlying beneath her story that she didn't want them all to know. He wondered if anyone else would catch on.

"I ran outside and just started to cry uncontrollably. That's where Draco Malfoy found me. He tried to convince me to go to the hospital but I refused and just told him to go away. That's when I started feeling a little light headed and just collapsed. The next thing I knew it was Friday morning and I was in a hospital bed." She let out a loud breath of air. One that, Draco suspected, she had been holding onto.

"I see." McGonagall turned to the Minister. "What do you think, Minister Kingsley?"

Kingsley rubbed his chin as he thought. What he said was enough to make Draco's heart stop beating. "From what Hermione has told us, it would appear that she had been cursed." He turned to Draco. "Did you place her under a curse, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco's mouth fell open. "What? Of course not! Why would I do something like that?"

Kingsley shrugged, "To find favor in the eyes of the Ministry? Saving one of the people who are responsible for the fall of the most evil wizard of all time is big news. Many would do it without thinking twice."

This couldn't be happening to him! Draco was shaking his head furiously before the Minister even stopped. "No! That's not true! I wouldn't deliberately hurt someone for attention!"

All of the people in the room turned and gave him that look. The look Draco recognized as one given to someone who just told a big fat lie. Eyes growing wide, he tried to fix what he was trying to say. "No! I mean, yes, I would have done that before the war. But, I swear that I wouldn't do something like that now! Granger, help me out here!"

Hermione just stared at him, not really seeing him or hearing him at all. Her thoughts were her own and obviously far away from here. It would appear that he would end up going to Azkaban with or without her help.

Hermione stared at the scene before her in fear. From the moment Kingsley voiced his concern, Hermione knew that this was going down the wrong tunnel. Draco Malfoy didn't do anything to her except be friendly. Well, as friendly as he could possibly be. If she didn't come clean about why she collapsed he could very well spend time in Azkaban. Was her cancer so secretive that she would let an innocent person go to hell for no reason?

That answer was easy enough for her to answer.

"Minister?" Her voice was quiet.

Kingsley turned to Hermione, "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I know Draco didn't do anything to me."

He gave a sad smile, "I appreciate that you have a kind heart, but there are few things that can cause a witch or wizard to collapse and I do not believe an overload in emotional baggage is one of them. There is no other explanation that I can see."

"But, you see, Sir," she cleared her throat with a nervous cough, "There is another explanation."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes? And that would be?"

Hermione sighed and looked him in the eye, "Kingsley, you know me. You know that I wouldn't lie, correct?"

He nodded his head.

"Right. May I ask one simple request?"

He nodded his head again, this time with his chin resting on his hand.

"What I'm about to say is very delicate. I don't want people to know yet. Not before I tell my friends. So, can I please tell Professor McGonagall and Draco alone? Professor McGonagall can tell you whether or not it'll require Draco going to Azkaban." There, she said it. She just hoped he would respect her wishes. McGonagall she trusted. Kingsley she trusted too, but there were ears all over the ministry and the last thing she needed was for it to be picked up by the Daily Prophet.

"Miss Granger, you know this is against regulation." He started.

She nodded, "I know, Minister."

Sighing, he stood and motioned for the Aurors to join him, "I will grant your request this once. Don't expect it to happen again, understood?"

Hermione gave him a grateful smile and watched him walk away. When the door was shut and a silencing charm was in place, she turned to face the confused Malfoy and the concerned McGonagall. "This is going to be hard to explain. Merlin, this is going to be hard to even say."

The Headmistress dropped her stern look and allowed the concern she was feeling to wash over her face. "What is it, Miss Granger?"

Draco just raised an eyebrow and leaned forward.

Hermione almost tried to think of a reason for him to not hear this. Each time she tried, she came up empty. He deserved to know, damn it! The poor bloke nearly went to Azkaban Prison because he had tried to help her. The least she could do was tell him why.

Taking in a deep breath, Hermione resumed her chair and prepared to tell the long story of her life over the last year. "It started a few weeks after the war. I was celebrating with my parents."

"I remember those days." Draco said with a grimace, "Every bloody person was celebrating then."

McGonagall turned her stern eyes on Draco. "Language, Mr. Malfoy. And might I ask you to not interrupt again?"

"Sorry, Professor." He murmured, sitting back and crossing his arms.

Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "Right. Well, I was home with my parents when they told me I was due for my annual checkup. They're muggles, you see, so they still believed in a doctor's visit the muggle way. I was in much too good of a mood to argue with them, so I went. Unfortunately, it lasted much longer then I thought it would."

Draco noticed her body started to shake. Her eyes were brimming with tears as her knotted her hands together in nerves. Or possibly pain, he was unsure.

"Everything was fine until he noticed this bruise on my forearm. I just assumed it was left over from the war, so I told him I simply must have bumped it. He still seemed skeptical, so he ordered me a blood test. When it came back, it wasn't good." Hermione stopped to catch her breath. This was much harder then she thought it would be.

McGonagall sat up straighter, "What is it, Hermione?"

Draco raised an eyebrow; Hermione this time, not Granger. He had never heard the old Professor call a student by their first name in all his years at this school. He turned his eyes back to Hermione face. She was in obvious turmoil and he felt himself cringe at the sight. It was almost painful for him to see her like that.

Hermione felt the tears fall down her face before she could reach up and wipe them back. Trying to see through the thick tears filling her eyes, she let out a heartbreakingly sad smile. "I have cancer."

Draco's heart froze; he could no longer hear it beating. Cancer? No, that's not possible. Witches and wizards never got cancer. With all of the potions and spells they had around today it was almost impossible for anyone to have it. Sure, some were diagnosed with it, but they were given a potion and poof. They were better in seconds. Why, then, was this so hard on Granger? Certainly she must be taking some form of a cure!

McGonagall's face froze with her eyes wide in shock. "Cancer? What form?"

"Leukemia, Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia, to be honest." Her voice was soft, scared almost.

The headmistress nodded her head. She had heard of that before. "I see. This is what caused your collapse then?"

Hermione nodded and didn't speak. She seemed too busy trying to stop the tears from flowing.

Draco watched her, completely stunned. Out of everything he thought was wrong with her this was not even on the list. He had never heard of anyone living with cancer before and he wasn't sure what to think.

So, with his voice slightly stretched, he asked the question he was sure McGonagall was forcing herself not to ask. "Are you on any kind of treatment? Potions even?"

Hermione turned her dull, sad eyes on him. She smiled a little, "No. I'm not."

"Why not, dear?" McGonagall asked, looking about ready to jump out of her seat to comfort the young woman.

Hermione, letting out all of the air in her lungs, closed her eyes for a moment. This was always the hardest part to say. The pity that always flew into their eyes made it worse. She already knew she was going to die. Why did everyone have to make it worse for her?

"Granger?" Draco asked, his hand reaching out to sit on top of her knotted hands.

She opened her eyes and met his grey ones.

Hermione could see the concern there, hidden behind curiosity. "Yes?"

"Why aren't you on any treatments?" His voice was quiet, comforting. Draco never knew he could be comforting.

"I've stopped responding to treatments, Malfoy. There's nothing else anyone could do." She said, never taking her eyes off his.

Draco knew what that meant. He knew that she wasn't going to survive this cancer. He knew and yet he didn't want to know. He wanted her to be okay and he bloody well didn't know why! The next question he was going to ask he didn't want answered. But, he had to know. For some reason unbeknownst to him, his heart felt odd and desperately needed to know.

Looking to McGonagall, he saw the question in her glistening eyes as well. They both wanted to know. "How long?" His voice came out rough, almost as if he were choking.

And he felt like he was.

Looking into his eyes, Hermione said, with every ounce of certainty, "Less than two years."

For the first time in his life, Draco felt the first surge of heartbreak.