CHAPTER 7: Truths

Hermione POV

Hermione lost herself in the moment. Never in a million years did she ever believe that she would be snogging Draco, and never did she ever think that she'd enjoy it. She didn't mind that Draco's hands were roaming over her body, exploring every curve and committing it to memory; it would be hypocritical of her, seeing as she was doing much the same. It felt like too soon when they broke apart, despite how Hermione was gasping for breath. Their eyes locked and it felt like an eternity passed between them.

"Why did you do that?" Hermione whispered, the tips of her fingers ghosting across her lips, as if trying to rid them of the tingle.
"This is probably the only chance I'll get to do such a thing," Draco murmured, gazing at Hermione hungrily - so much so that it took her a moment to realise what he meant. She beat Draco to the punch, saying the words that she knew he was thinking.
"This changes nothing," Hermione stated, numbness flowing through her body right to her toes. "We'd never work."
"Exactly," Draco whispered. His lips parted, words on the very edge of his tongue - was it foolish of Hermione to think it might have been an apology? - but nothing came. Draco turned away from Hermione and headed towards the door.
"Are you really not going to explain?" Hermione called after him, annoyance seeping into her bones. She may have already presumed Draco's reasoning, but she felt like she deserved to hear Draco say it aloud. He sighed heavily, resting his forehead against the door before turning around to face Hermione with cold grey eyes.
"What do you want me to say?" he demanded. "That I'm sorry? I can't. We both know what would happen if I even held your hand in the corridor. Maybe I shouldn't have kissed you, maybe I shouldn't feel anything, but none of that matters. You and I know that nothing can ever happen. Nothing."
"If protection is what's concerning you, Dumbledore can protect you," Hermione argued, but she knew it was a lost cause. Draco scoffed at the mention of the wizard.
"Dumbledore won't be around forever, Granger, and it's not just school," he sneered. "Muggleborn, pureblood. Golden trio, death eater. Light, dark. We're on opposite sides of a war, there's no point in denying. My parents - hell, the Dark Lord would kill me if I have one thought about you. It's just impossible. I thought you'd know that."

Hermione shook her head in disgust at herself. How could she have possible believed that a kiss with Draco Malfoy meant anything deeper? She was just a girl, and a muggleborn at that; she could never change something so deep-rooted as his beliefs with a stupid snog. Draco was right, she should have known better.

"Sorry to disappoint, then," Hermione said scathingly. "I'm clearly not as intelligent as you think I am."

Draco's face had returned to the impassive mask Hermione was so accustomed to seeing, and she knew the conversation was over. With a huff, Hermione stormed past Draco through the door, lingering in the corridor to glance back at Draco once more. Though his face had not changed, his eyes had followed her as she moved. Hermione deliberately locked eyes with him, sending him the coldest look she'd ever given anyone in her life.

"I'm sorry that I thought you were ever worth feeling something for," she said as the door swung closed.

Hermione's trek up to the common room was uneventful. Draco hadn't followed her (not that she'd lingered to find out if he would) and she'd seen nobody in the castle. Hermione almost desired a run-in with Peeves, if just so she had a reason to distract herself from her thoughts.

Going down to determine Draco's feelings for her was innocent enough. But then, he had to go and ruin all her plans by kissing her, and by God if that didn't flip her life upside down. In roughly three seconds he had her thinking that she was enough for him, that maybe they'd work out and things would be okay and maybe they could act upon their feelings in public. She'd actually considered the possibility that he'd do all that for her. And within one minute, he'd crushed all those fantasies. How stupid was she?

With a little trouble and a disapproving glare from the Fat Lady, Hermione pushed open the portrait and entered the common room. Seeing an elbow on the edge of an armchair, Hermione spoke.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, believing it to be Ginny, who had been waiting up each night until Hermione returned to stay updated.
"Talk about what?" came the unmistakable voice of Harry Potter. Hermione froze.
"Harry? What are you doing up?"
He shrugged. "I just heard some rustling down here, told Ginny to get to bed… What happened to you?" he asked, his eyes roaming over Hermione's appearance. Notably, her frazzled hair from where Draco had run his fingers, her untied dressing gown, runny nose, flushed cheeks. "Did someone attack you?"

Hermione scoffed and answered in the negative. That was something she should be worrying about - being attacked in the hallways, not worrying about how a stupid boy felt about her.

"You can tell me," Harry assured her. "Anything. You know that."
Hermione smiled. "Not this, Harry. You'd hate me."
"Do you really think that after everything we've been through together, I'd hate you because you told me something?" Harry asked dryly, leading Hermione to the couch. "Something so big it made you cry?"
With a shock, Hermione realised that a single tear had fallen from her eye. "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you," Hermione sniffed, wiping her face dry.

Because whilst Ginny was wonderful, Harry was her best friend, and if Hermione couldn't tell Harry about a stupid crush, then what could she tell him?

"It all started when I couldn't sleep one night..."

Draco POV

Draco returned to the Slytherin common room long after Hermione left him in the kitchen. He was trying to convince himself that he'd done the right thing for both of them, that his actions would protect them in the future; each thought was countered by Hermione's saddened face, when she said they'd never work. It made Draco feel guilty, and he resented her for it.

Couldn't she see that he was doing the right thing? Yes, it hurt, and yes he absolutely should not have kissed her (but it was so worth it), but Draco knew that his actions today would benefit them in the future. Right?

Hermione wouldn't leave his mind. An overwhelming wave of guilt washed over Draco. He really shouldn't have led her on. Though, he reasoned, it was Hermione's fault for jumping to conclusions. He'd never given any indication that he wanted anything more.

Despite his very convincing reasoning, the nagging feeling of guilt wouldn't leave Draco. He decided that, at the very least, he had to apologise to the girl. He had to make it up to her somehow. There was no way he could live with this feeling. Draco resolved to do it before the Christmas holidays began, which left him a little over two weeks. It wasn't the longest timeline ever, but Draco was a Malfoy, and it was time to act like one. He could do anything he put his mind to.

Hermione POV

Somewhere during the retelling of the hectic journey that had been Hermione's life, the tears steadily began to flow. It felt so good but hurt so much to let out everything she felt. The growing pile of Kleenex tissues was whisked away with a wave of Hermione's wand.

She finished retelling her tale and let Harry sit for a few moments in silence whilst he gathered his thoughts. As Hermione had predicted, Harry was angry, but she appreciated the effort he was taking to not show it.

"I suppose that you can't trust Slytherins," Harry said at last, staring into the depths of the fireplace. Hermione snorted. "Really though, Hermione. Why him? He's scum and cruel, and haven't I been saying all year that he's a death eater? Why didn't you -"
"I don't need a lecture from you, Harry," Hermione interrupted quietly. "I know who he is."
Harry had the grace to look abashed. "I'm sorry. I know he hurt you, but… Really. You're the last person I'd expect…"
"It's like I said," Hermione sighed. "It was like another universe in the kitchens. Just two strangers occasionally bumping into one another. The rest of the world didn't matter, it was almost… well, it was like a fairytale, really. A bit magic."

Harry looked slightly sickened.

"I don't know why he was civil to me at the start," Hermione continued, ignoring Harry's antics. "He just was, and I went with it. And here we are."
"Yeah, here we are," Harry agreed grumpily. "With you crying over a Slytherin and him gloating."
"I don't think he's gloating," Hermione said, but she wasn't sure she believed that. Harry could be right, there was no way to tell. But some instinct in her stomach was telling her that she was right.

Harry sighed loudly, taking Hermione's hand in his own and rubbing circles into the back of it with his thumb. "I don't know what to say, 'Mione," he admitted, making her smile.

"I don't want you to say anything," she assured him. "I just want you to know that I'm not being silly. He felt something for me too, I'm certain of it. I'm not asking you to put your past with him behind you, but I will ask you not to judge me too harshly. And," Hermione added as an afterthought, "Please don't tell Ron."
Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I won't tell him," he promised.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, Harry still absentmindedly playing with Hermione's hand whilst he thought. Hermione knew he wasn't quite done speaking yet, even if he didn't know it himself, and she was happy to wait it out, her thoughts wandering to the one event she really shouldn't be thinking of - but one more time couldn't hurt too much.

"You never really know what Slytherin's are up to," Harry said quietly, dropping Hermione's hand in favour of rubbing his scar. "So as much as I trust your judgement, I still don't believe that all of Malfoy's intentions were as pure as you make them sound. And, as much as I hate to admit it, he was right in denying you what you want. The school would turn against you. Voldemort would kill you. Plus a whole lot more unforeseen consequences." Harry looked at Hermione apologetically, noticing the slight furrow of her brow. "It sucks, but he's right. I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, Harry," Hermione said softly. "It's just a crush, right? It'll go away soon enough."
"Yeah," Harry murmured, his thoughts clearly travelling elsewhere. He quickly pulled himself back. "Anyway, you should get to bed. You look exhausted and we have classes tomorrow."
"Same to you, Harry," Hermione smiled.

They exchanged their goodbyes pleasantly but once Harry's back was turned, Hermione dropped her mask. She was not as calm about the situation as she wanted Harry to think. It did hurt her, and it hurt her a lot. She had high doubts that her feelings would disappear as quickly as she desired, if at all.

Hermione got into her warm bed and closed her eyes tightly. She would allow herself one more night of thinking about things that could have been. Her thoughts were safe, and the world would not burn if she indulged just a little. Everything would return to normal tomorrow.