Author's Note: Sorry it's been a month, loves. So sorry! Writer's block hit me hard. Please forgive me! :)
You say you wanna stay by my side, darlin', your head's not right.
See, alone we stand, together we fall apart,
Yeah, I think I'll be alright.
I'm working so I won't have to try so hard; tables, they turn sometimes.
No, I ain't wastin' no more time.
- Someday, The Strokes.
Everything's a mess.
Everything is absolutely a mess.
Draco lays on the hospital bed, sleeping softly while my minds unsettled and filled with dread. I don't even feel like I'm streaming any sort of sense to the world right now. I'm just transfixed staring at him, trying to forget how his face looked before he collapsed onto the cold floor.
Madam Pomfrey told me he experienced a severe panic attack, Harry's shouting overwhelming him to the point where he couldn't handle the thoughts running though his head.
Ginny is silently sobbing in the corner, her muffled cries bringing me some life again for a moment. Luna is patting her back, I can't thank her enough. She made sure Draco was conscious while I lost myself at Harry.
I guess he and Ginny had been having problems ever since I started seeing Draco, because that's all he would talk about. How Draco was going to hurt me, how he already was. How reckless I was being.
Ron had gotten over me since that night at the club, after realizing that he is actually a catch to girls. But he went on the hate train with Harry, constantly insulting me apparently, constantly being around my classmates that had nothing nice to say and spurring their hatred further.
It was the last straw for Ginny when he didn't let it go. When Harry saw Draco with no vengeance or anger in him, nothing but pleading in his eyes, and tore him down anyways.
She dumped him.
I can't fathom it. I can't – I can't believe –
Ginny separate from Harry? They're so in love, this isn't right.
I just feel so responsible for tearing a rift between all my friends, but I'm so angry at them that right now I don't even care. That's a lie, I do care. I wish I didn't. Harry is obviously suffering about something deeper-seated, Ginny is really perceptive about things like that when it comes to him. But he was too stubborn for too long.
Ron hasn't bothered to come check in yet, and Merlin knows what kind of berating Harry is receiving right now from McGonagall. After Ginny informed him 'it's over`, he freaked. Pointed the finger at me, yelled some more at Draco, who wasn't even awake, and generally scared me to death.
I'm done crying for now, honestly. I'm so numb.
It's like I can't be content with anything. An hour ago everything was perfect. Alone, Draco and I become so intimate, so personal. Never again do I want to think about what he's done, he's clearly broken about it. All he's trying to do now is relate to me, which is actually really sweet seeing as we're so different on the outside.
Images of us in the library a few weeks ago come flooding back. Talking about my head versus my heart. We're already in too deep. Hearing him tell me how much he loves me in the bath was enough to let me know that my decision wasn't a mistake. I knew in my mind that it wouldn't go well, but my mind was wrong. My teetering faith in Draco: is he worth it, is this worth it? , a constant strain on me. I've decided to ease that tension; I'm really happy with him, despite all of this.
I merely thought that my friends would stand by me, like they promised. Have I abandoned them too?
I wouldn't have if they'd just given my judgement a chance.
Ginny's still here, though. More loyal than the rest. I can't expect her to choose sides, but I guess after that episode, she has.
"Hermione dear, I know you are upset, but the Headmistress has requested you go to her office immediately." This comes from Professor Sprout, oddly enough.
She's popped her head into the ward, sympathetic. Nodding to her, I give Ginny a glassy gaze from my chair across the room. Ginny gives me a thumbs up, having halted her sobbing from the interruption, and gives me what can only be a very sad attempt at a smile.
I don't feel like speaking, so I get up with one last glance at Draco before trailing Sprout to McGonagall.
"We'll stay here," is what Ginny states to me before I'm off. "We'll watch him."
Affection expands through my already worried body, feeling now even worse that she's willing to guard somebody I love and she doesn't, for me. Luna for once in her life is not perpetually content, a detail that worries and grates me more than Ginny's distress. If her intuition is one of trouble to come, it has to be right.
For now, I wipe the slate that is my five-track mind, to focus on the task at hand. The reason behind Professor Sprout's appearance is becoming clear immediately as we saunter through the halls. Whispers are shed all around us as we walk to the tower from the first floor, some of my classmates yelling at me for information.
"Did Ginny really dump Harry?" Parvati asks in a shocked voice.
"Hermione, Hermione! Did Malfoy lose his memory?" Seamus chimes in. "That's what Lavender said!"
I shrug them away, ignoring everybody, Professor Sprout follows suit in an attempt not to rouse them. They continue their thoughts in stage-whispers, too much of a bombardment for me to ignore.
"Did he really collapse?"
"Yes, I heard Harry yelled at Draco. What did Malfoy do!?"
"I think they fist-fought."
"Draco was flirting with Ginny before the music performance, Harry was pissed!"
"I heard Ginny was livid with Harry because he wouldn't leave Hermione alone!"
"Really? I thought they weren't speaking?"
"Look, there she is! Hermione?"
"Do you really love him, Hermione? You said you loved him, that's what Ron said to Lavender!"
"Hermione!"
Tears are threatening to break my steely resolve, all these assumptions already burning their way down the grapevine. Professor Sprout, bless her heart, now does all she can to waive them away. Instructing them to go to their dorms or the library. After excruciating minutes filled with mocking, crude remarks, inquisition with genuine concern, and diluted heavily with angry accusations that I'm the cause of Harry's relationship failing, we get to the griffin.
"I must go see Professor Sinistra now, sorry dear. Good luck." She marches off, and just now I realize my pulse is going three times its regular speed.
I go up with the password: "Godric's Sword."
Standing on the moving steps, waiting for them to rise up, I'm emotionless as I enter the doors with a very weak knock. Harry is there, barely placated, clearly told not to utter a word to me by the way he looks at me both apologetic and scathingly.
"Miss Granger," McGonagall begins softer than usual. "I know you're in no mood, but I have no idea of exactly what just happened in that hallway. Potter here is too distraught for me to comprehend him."
Awkwardly I go to sit next to Harry, feeling like I'm next to a stranger, not wanting to recall the events.
"He is under the impression that you and Mr. Malfoy were in the Prefects bathroom together. This is against school rules, and could be grounds for expulsion, I hope you are aware." I let my face stay in the same distant manner it's been in, refusing to let my insides spew out like I want them to. I can't believe he told her.
"Now, we have no proof of anything, just that your hair was wet….Boris the Bewildered, who is the portrait guarding the bathroom, has assured me you and Draco never passed him. In fact, he has never seen Mr. Malfoy go in at all though he has the privilege. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt this time as there is no hard evidence, no witnesses. You wouldn't do something so foolish, would you? Be aware that this is a serious accusation and it won't be taken lightly."
"Thank you," I say, relieved for a millisecond. "What is it you want to know, exactly?"
"I want to know what made Potter say such terrible things to Mr. Malfoy. I only caught the end bits."
"He has a better understanding of that than I do, Professor," I reply with venom I think she is surprised to hear.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because Draco didn't do anything to provoke Harry."
He's about to interject, but McGonagall holds a hand up and looks back at me.
"Surely something must have happened, if not today."
"I'll be blunt, Professor. I don't know if you've been aware, or frankly care, but Draco and I have been dating now since break. It wasn't a silly rumour from the Prophet. Harry has chosen to react to this by being utterly disdainful and unbearable towards me, same with Ron. I've attempted being diplomatic, but have otherwise soent all my time with my boyfriend over my friends because of the lack of civility. They don't fancy the arrangement, I gather."
"And?" she reiterates, not getting the point. "Would that not be the reaction you expected?"
"It was. However, Draco has given them plenty of reasons to show that he is not the same boy as a year ago. It isn't as shallow as him not being nasty, and it wasn't just me pushing him to act that way. They refuse to accept or acknowledge his change. So I guess then, that Draco behaved the exact opposite of how Harry wanted him to, hoping that he was right and that I'd dump him. That's what he 'did'. When I did not go to the Quidditch match this afternoon, boiled blood and thoughts of us being intimate spurred Harry to affront Draco to an extent of which I've never seen. He verbally abused him in a far more personal and vicious way than I thought he'd be capable of. And he pushed him. Very hard."
Harry stirred the pot by nearly getting me in academic trouble. If he expects me to be gentle, he's gone off his rocker.
"Is this true, Potter?"
Harry, through growling protest, shakes his head yes. McGonagall sighs.
"Did Mr. Malfoy actually say anything to you that was hurtful? Or push you, hit you?"
"Well he said he loved Hermione, and that made me physically ill."
"Potter!" she barks, but he just sits there stubborn and bitter, making me more perturbed. "This is unacceptable, you're adults. Now, Miss Granger, If you don't mind, what does 'plenty of reasons' mean?"
"He was trying to make amends; he is trying. Really hard. I know he feels irreversible guilt about last year, about his family. Which is progress because his pride has been abandoned, something reprehensible for a Slytherin pureblood. He can't apologize for this stuff, can he? It's not enough. He can only take action and move forward. There's no more insults, no more crass. He showed us some of his most personal memories through a pensieve his family owns to try and win the Weasley family over. They invited us over for dinner to talk. He's shown more maturity than I must admit I would ever give him credit for. And somehow I'm supposed to be out of my mind because I care for him?"
McGonagall is watching me wordlessly, I can tell she doesn't know what to make of my impassioned campaign for Draco Malfoy, the snobby kid who used to loathe me.
"Look, I get that this is so off, it appears mental that I'd ever even talk to him. I just think all this is fuss is unwarranted."
"It's not, I'm only helping you! You're only with him because he's made you feel bad for him. You want to fix it, solve his problems for him," Harry mutters. "You're kidding yourself."
"How dare you!" I fight very hard the urge to slap him in his face, clenching my fists instead.
"Potter, that is inappropriate," and her stern expression shuts him up momentarily. "I've been keeping watch on him, and Theodore Nott, for any sort of conduct that would indicate that they should be thrown out. So far, nothing. They've been just as traumatized as everybody else by what took place last year, regardless- " she stresses as Harry means to interrupt her. "Regardless of whether or not they or they or their parents were good people. Sides are non-existent, Potter. Surely you've realized people can be both kind and mean. I am sympathetic to the fact you're having trouble adjusting to this, but this is Miss Granger's life. You cannot interfere when it's not your concern."
"But it is my concern! She's my mate, how am I supposed to go mind my business when –"
"Potter, you are distraught. You've just had a terrible experience. But unless you want to mend things with both Miss Weasley and Hermione, you must stop becoming fixated on the idea that Draco is out to get you and your friends. Now what is the real problem underlying to this?"
"What d'you mean, real problem?" He is quite offended, crossing his arms petutlantly.
"Clearly you're using Mister Malfoy as a tool for taking out your frustrations, but what's the matter?"
Harry glares at me, daring me to repeat what Ginny did. Because I know it's the truth. He wants everything to be like it was last summer, when we were happy altogether. Guilty, I know he is, that he didn't try to resolve the tension between Ron and I sooner. That perhaps if he made more effort I'd have lost my virginity to a Gryffindor and not his 'mortal enemy'.
Right now, I don't care about his shame. I was never mad at him for that, I never expected him to want to leave the Burrow when he actually was happy. Genuinely fine.
But the switch into the past? It's not happening, and never will.
"Look, Professor. I think this is something you and he can talk about without me. He's not going to be honest if I'm here. I gave you my piece."
"Don't be rude, Miss Granger." Her brow is furrowed at me, curious as to why I'm out of my usual character of politeness.
"Please believe me, it's true. I reckon he blames me for, well, what happened between he and Ginny," I state glumly.
Then the worst thing that could ever happen does. Tear drops glisten in his green eyes, and before I can apologize, Harry is crying. Stifling sobs that are too loud not to be heard, he buries his head in his hands.
McGonagall flops her head back onto her chair in resignation. "Alright, you can go. If you see Professor Sprout, please ask her to send up Mister Weasley if she sees him. Or if you see him, the same."
"Thanks."
Fat chance I'm going on a manhunt for Ron. I zoom out of there, really unsettled, but thanking my lucky stars that there's no evidence against me, or Draco. The last thing we need is to deal with getting kicked out of school.
As I make my way back to the Hospital Wing, still getting questions fired at me because I was only gone about 10 minutes, I find it empty. Trepidation filling my senses, I check my watch as I reach Draco on his cot. It's 6:50.
Sunday is an early night for everyone in the castle.
"I'm sorry dear, but I'm afraid we're closing up for the day." Madam Pomfrey is close to the entrance, I didn't notice her at first, filling up water for a third year Hufflepuff with a fever. He's the only other patient besides Draco. "I had to send Luna and Ginny out."
"Do you know where they went?"
"They requested I tell you to go get some rest, Ginny would be waiting for you when you returned. Mister Malfoy is going to be fine, Hermione," she says sincerely and firmly. "He was much worse at the beginning of term. There's no physical damage on him, so he should be up and about for classes."
I exhale, trying to quell my anxiety down, her words unfortunately comfortless. I don't want to wait.
"Okay, thank you Madam Pomfrey."
Leaning in, I kiss Draco on the forehead, and then run a hand through his hair slowly. He doesn't stir.
Our gracious nurse doesn't say anything to me as I do these things, and tactfully leaves me alone as I exit very weepy.
Solace is not found as I reach the common room, and to my dismay several people are crowded around Ginny, pestering her for information while she sits completely impassive on an armchair. I almost succumb to screaming at all these insensitive idiots into oblivion, maybe punch them, but decide instead on yanking her by the arm to drag her into our dorm.
Quips of conversation about Ron are all I hear when we get there, Lavender is gushing to Parvati. Again, I feel like I want to lose it on her; what a terrible human being. She goes dead silent when she see us, both pained and tired, and frowns. 'Secretly' rolling her eyes at the fact she has to move locales to talk about boys.
"I'm so sorry about what happened," Lavender says to Ginny, and to her credit, she does say it with sincerity. Parvati puts a hand on her shoulder, and nods sympathetically. Ginny doesn't reply, she hates people feeling bad for her. We could trade, because I don't, and nobody says anything to me.
When they leave, Ginny lays back on her sheets, staring at the ceiling.
"I don't want to talk about it. I've said all I need to right now."
Getting up to go to my bed, I pull off my shirt, tie, and skirt, falling into it without grace. Wishing I didn't have to stay quiet as i'm restless.
"Remind me to thank Luna," is what she tells me last, and I promise I will. I owe her it too.
We lay there then, not bothering to discuss anything else because I know it will be pointless. Certainly hours go by, not sure how many. I drift off into uncomfortable sleep eventually.
Waking up to the realization that I'm tearing somebody I love apart from their friends is actually a worse feeling than knowing said friends will probably hate me forever. That said friends include Potter and can ruin my life if they feel so inclined doesn't even faze me anymore.
Which means a) I'm maturing, b) because I care about somebody's feelings more than myself, and c) fuck.
Drowsy is the overwhelming feeling I have as I notice I'm in the Hospital Wing. Ugh.
I vaguely remember being dragged in here after having the worst anxiety I've ever experienced, and lots of yelling. Recalling the events, I wonder who is dead or alive. I wonder what happened afterwards. If Hermione finally broke and I'm alone again, if Potter spontaneously combusted.
I contemplate the endless options as I escape my confinement, taking heed when I pass Madam Pomfrey's office, where she also sleeps in case of an emergency. Strolling back to the dungeons, I'm surprised to find Nott awake when I get to my bed, and inwardly curse that I'll have to make awkward conversation.
His outburst at me has not been forgotten.
"Fuck mate, you're in one piece?" is his first response as I slump onto the mattress. I pause for a second before discarding all my clothes, fearing what will come next.
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"
My body tenses trying to prepare for the reply.
"God damn, everyone was in an uproar all day. It was almost equivalent to when Potter released that article in the Quibbler. Rumours been spreading that you and Hermione fucked in a bathroom somewhere, that Potter yelled at you, you lost your memory, you fist fought, you collapsed from some kind of spell or attack, and a bunch of other more extreme shit that likely is fake. Nobody knows what really happened because everyone involved fucked off. But Ginny dumped him, that much is certain. He was bawling in the hallway, I saw him; so was she."
"What?" I flip myself up as fast as possible, jaw hanging open. His eyes are wide like mine.
"You didn't know?"
"No, I bloody didn't know! I was in the Hospital, stupid."
He rolls his eyes.
"Obviously, but why? Weren't you awake at all? It's been like 12 hours."
"No, I wasn't," I bite defensively.
"So what the hell happened then?"
This is ridiculous. I don't have any patience for this.
"Potter yelled at me, said some really horrible things, and then pushed me. I know he was taking his anger out on me, he was frustrated about Granger dating me, and he and Ginny were obviously not in a good place. He wanted it to be like it used to, the three amigos plus girlfriend. But now I'm in the picture, and it's left a bad taste in his mouth. And I told him I knew it." I slump back onto my pillow, and even though I wasn't very tired, I know now for sure I won't be able to get back to sleep.
"What are you going to do?"
"What do you mean?" I ask, riled by his tone.
"You'll be Public Enemy #1, won't you?"
"I wasn't already?" I almost chuckle with malice.
He looks at me seriously. "Maybe, but it's only elevated now. I heard Seamus Finnigan cussing you out, about how it's your fault Potter and Ginny split up."
I groan, getting my frustration out. By bellowing like a child.
"I don't care! It's not my fucking fault, is it? I've been nice, I've tried. What more is there I can do? Hermione's already going to be off her rocker because she'll blame herself."
"I don't know," he retorts quietly, shifting in his sheets.
"Why are you even still awake?" I mutter, fighting the urge to smother my face with a pillow and scream til my lungs burst. It's imminent that I'll get beaten again. This time I'm fighting back, fuck it all.
"Dunno. Couldn't sleep. Guess I've been used to you being here. Was wondering if you were alright," he says detached. Like it was a hard thing to admit.
Instead of feeling touched, I scoff. "You were wondering if I was alright? Well I'm not. Clearly, I'm not. I was, up until after the stupid Quidditch match."
"Why so mad?" he questions me sensitively, surveying me as if I'm in the wrong.
"If you cared you could've bothered to come see me," I explain to this daft roommate of mine.
"I didn't think you'd want that! But thanks for getting angry, you fucking tool," he grunts crossly. "I've been feeling kind of bad about what I said to you, but you act so indifferent towards me now."
"Yeah, because I was trying to forget about it," I mumble, pushing my head under the covers and lying on my belly, so I can softly pound my forehead onto the headboard..
"Well it's like it doesn't matter to you at all. What I said. And if it didn't affect you, how I feel doesn't too, because maybe I was wrong about us being friends. I was damn upset then. Yet you said you thought we were mates, and now here you are uncaring about what I have to say."
Are you fucking kidding me?
"I'm uncaring because you called me a fucking user. You tore me to shreds, didn't you? And you meant it , don't lie and say you didn't. Perhaps you didn't mean it all as strongly as you said, but there you have it, you still did. Don't expect me to be sympathetic to how you feel when you didn't extended me the same courtesy. Friend."
"I tried to apologize and you wouldn't have it!"
"Because it felt like you would only say it so I wouldn't sneer down my nose at you!" I yell, fumbling my way out of my blanket. He looks just as pissed as I do, but I'm not affected. "We're one and the same, Nott. We have one girl in our lives who likes us, and everyone else doesn't. When I had nobody, I attempted to make nice the only way I could with you. Maybe I was an asshole, but it wasn't all intentional. Any reconciliation I had tried to make then with you was gone when you didn't control your fucking mouth."
"Oh, fuck you! Millicent was right about you. You'll never change," he spits, and I'm so overwhelmed by rage, I actually have to tell myself to breathe. My heart is pounding. I can hear, nay feel, the beat speed up.
I can't be here right now.
"This whole thing isn't about you, you tosser. I'm sick and tired of everyone making every little thing about them, and i'm sick and tired of not being left alone. Like I'm always the villain, when - ahhhh."
Not giving it any thought, I jump out of bed and hastily pull on my school sweater with slacks. My wand is snatched before I'm out the door again, and I don't dignify Theo with a reply when he asks me where I'm going.
Pacing in the common room, I'm feeling trapped. These walls are closing in, and it's eating me alive as to what happened today. I am desperately wanting to speak to my girlfriend, for information and comfort, but I can't for another 5 hours.
If I go outside and get caught…it's just more trouble than it's worth risking. Besides, she's probably in her room. There's no way I'm going to be able to concentrate on reading, or school. Now it's Monday and I'm going to have a new pile of homework anyways. So I park myself on a sofa and stare at the embers in the fireplace, watching the tiny activity in the Black Lake.
All night.
I'm completely exhausted by the time the first of the early birds arise, some second years, and they eye with me a mix of disdain and morbid fascination. I can't even be bothered to tell them off.
Re-entering the dorm is not an option, so I just sigh and make my way to the Great Hall, at 6:45. There's no food there yet, obviously, they serve it at around 7:15 and even that's premature. I'm literally the only one in here as I try to camouflage into the ugly wooden benches, putting my face down so I don't have to look at anybody entering.
Time passes as slowly as it did when I was on the sofa, and as I can hear clanks and gentle morning whispers pass between happy peers, tired peers, I actually envy them because of the normalcy they seem to live in.
Eventually, my arms become asleep from lying my fat head on them for so long. When I do finally decide to take a shot at toast, the room is uncomfortably three quarters full. I'm saved after one more moment however, because I see her come in.
And she's very unhappy.
Her face contorts into some kind of emotion resembling relief when she notices me, a small favour I really do appreciate. People are whispering about her as she passes them, but she disregards them to come and sit beside me. So quietly that if I was facing another way I wouldn't have heard her.
"Hi," she says.
I study her, purple circles under her eyes, clothes not as pristine. Her hair is in a messy braid, and I can tell she didn't care at all about how she looks.
"Hey."
"Are you feeling okay?"
She skims my hand with her fingers, and I grab them to rest my head on top.
"No," I reply honestly. "Woke up at 1 am to go back to my room and have Theo yell at me."
"About what?"
"How I wasn't sympathetic to him asking me what the matter was. I asked him why he was awake, which he was, and then he explained to me a bunch of crap that happened I'm sure you already know about. It's almost as if he expected me to be touched he was thinking about my welfare."
"Draco, he was trying," she says exasperated, but I'm not letting blame fill me in the way she can usually make me feel.
"I know he was, but then he went on about how I've been acting all aloof around him, like I don't care, and it's because I've been attempting to get over what he said. Move past it. Stupid prick," I whine to her.
"Did you tell him that? And are you?" she questions with a worried face.
"I did tell him that. And I was until he said that Millicent was right and I'll 'never change'. Just, agh. I can't win." I take a deep breath and Hermione pats my back soothingly.
"Why aren't you wearing a dress shirt or tie?" she asks suddenly, bewildered. "Or socks?"
"I'm not losing it. Yet. I got so furious I had to exit the premises. I couldn't sleep any longer so I sat in front of the fireplace. Didn't feel like going back up before I got here."
"Why?" Her voice sounds so dead, so defeated, I want to kill somebody or weep at it. "Why so furious?"
"Because I knew I'd wake up and you'd be like this, blaming yourself for everything, and then I'm going to have more and more shit yelled at me for who knows how long because everyone is going to think I'm the root cause for the ending of Saint Potter and his Lover."
She's shocked silent for a minute.
"But it's not your fault."
"Of course it's not, but it feels like it. And I hate that it actually affects me."
"It just means you care. Look – I – god, I don't know," she stutters as she sees my expression. Then she heaves a great sigh.
"Are you alright, then?" I bid her, exasperated. "I reckon not."
"No, I have no idea what I'm going to do."
The story of last night spills out from under her lips, licking me in all the most uncomfortable places. Potter endlessly sour all the time I've been holding Hermione's hand, Weasley slagging me off to whoever would listen to him. Ginny all the while was in the middle, attempting at indifference. The tension of not exploding at Granger and I must have been mounting for Potter, as surely he promised to behave and yesterday proved he couldn't.
All the time she relays her worries, I'm idly twisting a knife between the crevices of my fingers. Trying to be calm by keeping its balancing act going at the knowledge that everyone around me thinks I'm responsible for this. I will not let it drop as I feel shame swallow me whole at the idea of Ginny sobbing under a sheet all night. Of people glaring at Hermione menacingly when she was trying to be ignored or people hounding her for answers. I keep it together until she tells me, "I think Harry is upset because of the Battle," and then it clanks out of my grip onto the ground.
"What do you mean?" I question darkly, my knuckles tight, temper threatening to be gone again.
"I've been trying to figure out why exactly he's been so angry," she utters silently, pleading with her eyes to listen. "He ignored me before this, but I've noticed in the past few dyes he's really lost it. The anniversary of the battle is a week away. And also, Dumbledore's death is only about a month away now too, isn't it. I don't know if the school is going to do something to commemorate it or what, but it's awfully close. I think just looking at you evokes the bad memories, and you're the only one he can point blame at here."
Her eyes are apologetic, and I don't want to blow up at her for telling the truth. But it's awfully discerning, isn't it?
"Lovely."
I guess I haven't been keeping track of the date, the days seem to mold together now, they don't seem an eternity to last in this giant pit of shit we call an institution.
"I'm going to try and talk to him. Or Ron. Anybody. He needs to snap out of it, he's reverting to how he was a few years ago. During fifth year. He deserves to be happy," she whispers, and with my emotions calling in to question my sanity, I feel like bawling and shouting.
She's the victim here, and she wants to instigate the resolve still.
"I thought he was pissed because he wants it to be the quartet of Gryffindor's, merrily in tune with each other, like it was last year," I feel myself spit spitefully. To which Hermione visibly shrinks.
"I think it's everything," she mumbles. Her vulnerability softens my demeanour, it's my weakness.
"Well do what you must, though my opinion is that you deserve better. But what do you want to do now? Lay low for today? Forever? Be separate?" Break up, is what my mind suggests, thinking with a terrible sinking feeling that if this keeps going she's definitely going to.
"I suppose that you should be separate from me, if I am going to raise the white flag," she sighs.
"Okay," I concede, heart falling a bit at the notion of being solitary. "Just know right now if one more person bitches at you and I'm present, I'm not being nice. Not even sure if I could handle them if they targeted me."
"Alright," she groans, an argument not even worth it.
I know were both at our wit's end.
She holds my hand for a very long time, until we're nearly late for our respective lessons, and only when most are scrambling not to be tardy does she grant me one kiss. It's short, but somehow it conveys some kind of hope to me that it'll all be well in the end.
Or maybe I'm batshit insane and I'm reading too much into what mashing of lips mean. Optimism is not a trait I inherited.
I'm surprised, as the day goes by, that I last as long as I do.
Every single professor comments on how I'm improperly dressed. Every single student, knowing I won't fight back, berates me for being a many number of colourful things; A bastard, pureblood scum, vile, life-ruiner, ugly wanker, terrible human being, etc.
Several people shove me or 'accidentally' trip me. They have the sense to bugger off Hermione when I'm in the same room, because even if I am away from her, I'm surely creepy in the way I play watchdog. At lunch we both head to the library and sit across from each other in different workstations. To start to review NEWT schedules that were just handed out. Or at least she does; fighting exhaustion, I'm counting down the seconds til I can go back to bed.
But no, of course we can't get off scot-free. Of course it is with the final block of the day, where I almost made it, and my anger is pent-up from hiding it, that I am challenged with fight or flight. I believe Hermione and I have become accustomed to being shunned for a month. Having people voice themselves to us their honest, inward revulsion is jolting.
Like they've all turned into Loony Lovegood, but far nastier.
It's an odd chain of events that spirals into madness. Where the last straw is thrown into the trash. Picture this, if you will:
An unfortunate looking Charms lesson where it's all the wrong people. Flitwick is oblivious with his grating squeak, but thankfully, I delusionally thought, it was theory and no practice. A lecture draws no attention to me or my lady. It goes by in a pace much like the rest of the periods did, excruciatingly slow. I tally all the dirty looks I gather from the day to grand total around 137, an exercise to distract me from the hatred.
Saint Potter and his comfort crew are all together as the bell rings, the Gryffindor boys and several stragglers. Hermione, who has managed to grin and bear it like a star, motions to me to come to her. Rookie mistake.
I knew what it was for, McGonagall handed us our performance review during music. Though she's graciously waited to open the envelope, she needs to know if our efforts were fruitful now; I could tell she was torn on whether she could resist. So sitting on a bench down the hall, we examine it, thinking that everyone might be eager for dinner and leave us be. Wrong.
It doesn't matter that we were about a ludicrous metre away from each other, the fuse for the bomb was that I happened to smile the same time she did. Because guess what? We got all Outstanding's. From McGonagall, that's a fucking hard feat, even if I'm with Hermione. O for effort, skill, improvement, making no mistakes; everything. Our essay was detailed enough that McGonagall wasn't lost learning about a Muggle band. Our performance was the 'most passionate', the best in the advanced section.
Didn't feel like I've ever succeeded like that before, and damn it feels good to know I could do it.
I'm oddly overcome with a wave of attachment to Hermione, as thinking about our assignment triggers the whole experience of us and how she's changed me, what we've done together.
Yet still, I decide I can only grin my sentiments to her; is that a crime?
Having Lavender Brown whine out a "HOW DARE YOU FLAUNT YOURSELF IN FRONT OF HIS FACE?" confirms me that yes it is. Snapping to the present, the delirious happiness that was briefly shining on Granger's face burns out into shock. Flaunting what is a mystery. Our relationship?
But it doesn't stop there. Timing is a heartless cunt.
No, Lavender is, I think.
Potter halts, and Weasel looks just as speechless as Hermione. But he's holding her hand, the fool, a member of the party. I don't hand out any sympathy to people who spread lies and have continual bad taste, and I don't have the patience.
Hermione is about to respond, mouth quivering, unnerved about what to say. She was really upset this morning, but it's spiraled into self-loathing because of all the insults by the way she's carrying herself.
"I – I'm not sure I know what you mean," is the feeble rebuttal. Even the usual suspects like Finnigan, who would usually snort in derision, don't. This is too serious.
And I know I'm not ready for this confrontation as I spot Ginny coming round the corner to go to the Great Hall, everyone's backs turned. She looks affronted at the scene, but decides she's going to be an idiot instead and keep going in the same direction out of some sort of twisted dignity.
I suppose dear Ronald has been mouthing off to his new lover all day, as surely his sister cannot be to blame, and Lavender is incensed to defend poor Harry, who looks like he's going to hurl.
"Oh, I think you do," she cackles fiendishly.
"We're just sitting on a bench to look at our marks," I sneer, and these are the first words I've spoken all day to anyone but Hermione. "Is that offensive?"
Weasley intends to start in on me, but surprisingly, Potter mutters a quick 'don't' and he complies reluctantly.
"Yes it is, actually. You two cause a break up and have the audacity to sit here and eye-fuck each other like nobody else matters."
I swear to Merlin, if she wasn't a 'delicate' woman.,,
"The audacity? We haven't been together all day, you swot. I think you can lay off and quit stirring up drama you so desperately want to be a part of," I jab acidly, to which she has barely a reply. "This isn't about you, so maybe you stop having the audacity to pretend like you care."
"How dare you, you –"
"They didn't cause the break up, Lavender. I ended it because he did. Now fuck off and leave them alone."
Like a rehearsed play, everyone on their feet spins round. Ginny is seething, pointing the finger at Potter who doesn't know how to react to this ruckus.
"Ginny?" Lavender cries. "It's not his fault, he's so distraught over you. About them."
All I can think is shut the hell up, but I sit still and watch it all unfold. Does this girl have to butt in everywhere?
"Doesn't mean he's innocent."
"But – honey, you're delusional, can't see straight. You're so upset over him, we saw you crying."
Grotesquely, she finds it okay to run for a hug, but Ginny is not having it.
"Yes, I am, actually. Upset that is, my brain is in perfect condition. Get him to apologize to me and to them and maybe we can 'hug it out'.," she bites. "Your new boy toy is pretty guilty too, in case you were wondering. Just because he's suddenly into you again, doesn't mean you have to go along with every little word he says. Use some fucking common sense."
"What the fuck, Ginny?!" Weasley shouts.
I like Ginny more and more by the day.
"You're the one who's been agreeing with everything Harry has said about Draco and then going round to tell other people who aren't involved. When he hasn't done anything bad. Maybe he's not shown you anything to make him trustworthy, but obviously Hermione is happy. You keep ruining it by tearing her apart with your stupid selfishness, making her feel bad. Malfoy hasn't done shit at all when he damn well could by now from your actions. And you think they are the bad guys? Open your fucking eyes! Just let it the fuck go! Stop clinging on to what has been. You put me in the middle, were bitter all the time expecting me to be content! If you're going to start a war, maybe next time treat me well and don't ignore me if you'll make me pick a side. I can't believe you!" she screams.
Potter is really looking jumpy now. "Ginny, I – " he begins, but her stone-cold gaze cuts him off.
"No, I told you time and time again what was wrong and you didn't listen!"
"Are you insane? What is your problem!?" Weasley barks when he notices his crestfallen friend.
"YOU ARE!"
Losing herself, she just stomps the ground and stalks away again, flicking her hair when she passes Potter, and leaving us for fodder with a gang of roused lions.
"See what you've done?" Lavender growls to Hermione, and now I realize she harbours deep seated jealously towards Hermione's unwanted popularity and is using this for revenge whether she knows it or not.
"She hasn't done anything, you complete idiot! Didn't you listen to a word Ginny said, or are you like Potter and ignore her too?"
"Draco, no," Hermione commands me, holding my raising arm; my verbal slip up riling the boys.
"OI! Lay off him and her, you corrosive sorry excuse! You're the cause of all Harry's suffering and you still think it's alright to exist!" Weasley says.
"No, he's not to blame, Ron. If you could just try, try to be nice, this would – "
"It's not even Malfoy's fault, Ron," chimes in Thomas, whose suddenly his friend now? "It's hers. She's smart and knew what would happen, didn't you Hermione? Still decided to date him, didn't you? Guess he must be good under the sheets , huh? Buys you nice things?"
Oh hell, no.
One look at her face and I'm standing up, ready for it.
"Don't you blame her for this, Thomas. Don't ever use that tone towards her again, or talk to her like that! She's the only person who's tried to make it work and gets the short end because you all hate me."
"Don't tell me what I can't do, you disgusting sack of dung," he retaliates through gritted teeth. "What are you going to do about it?"
"I am bloody well tired of being a doormat. Ignoring you hasn't done anything, maybe a little action will shut you up."
"Action?" Longbottom rings in from the back, scoffing. "Go ahead and try. I think I'll really enjoy this."
"You're the most cowardly guttersnipe I've ever come across," Weasley laughs. "You really want to hit us without hiding behind your wand?"
Provoke and I will react. It's been a long time coming. Only this time, it's damn well personal. No Crabbe or Goyle to intimidate, no father as a threat, I pick my wand up and drop it.
"Yeah, I really do."
Fist to skin leaving him no time to prepare, Weasley's nose is bloody from my punch. Lavender shrieks with concern, Hermione with what's to come. While I get the insane compulsion to grin very wide.
Holy fucking hell, that was well deserved. Payback, if it's broken.
Honestly, I might be out of my mind because now he's blind with rage and has swiped my jaw. But I feel no pain. Nothing.
"You call that a hook?" I choke out in hysteric laughs, momentarily pausing him at the sight of me with blood streaking my skin, pouring down my chin, and I don't even waiver. "Pathetic."
Surely disturbing, I must appear. I want to break down and chuckle at myself, and this whole dismalscenario.
"Well come on then? Who's next? I've nothing to lose by this, do I? You'll loathe me in the morning whether or not I do something."
Longbottom has been aching to get me forever, and I see the on switch change as he decides he'll man up. Going in for another blow, Potter stops and pulls him back by his shoulders.
"Just leave him. Not worth it."
"Oh, now you want to be sensible Potter? After all that rubbish?"
He stares at me with such loathing, that i'd be long dead if looks could kill.
"Please, Draco, enough. Let's go," Hermione wants to pull my arm away desperately, but I sense this isn't over. "This isn't how I wanted this to be, Harry. I never did."
"Well why did you let it then?" Weasley snarls. But before I attack him, Granger interjects.
"Harry, I know why you're angry, and I know Draco is the person who you can take it out on and have it be justifiable. But you need to stop. It's gone too far. I understand that you're unhappy with me but I never for a second wanted you to stop being my friend. You and Ron both promised after that initial Prophet mess that you would see what he's like now. For me. You forgot that on break Draco was tolerable once we got to school. Because your past interactions distort your view of him now, you refuse to see him now. And the Gryffindor horde here reinforces to you what to make of him based on l-lies."
The angry peers look suddenly remorseful, her wobbly voice perhaps showing she's sincere.
"You've treated me like I'm nothing, and because of that and your inability to just let it be, Ginny couldn't stand you anymore. Why are you turning into someone so spiteful when you don't have a reason to act that way? The past is over. Look at yourself now, and compare yourself to Ginny. She did try for me. Besides Luna, she's the only one. You think I spend too much time with Draco? Well he's the only one who makes the effort to be with me. And I don't condone him hitting you, but to be honest, up until this afternoon I wanted to smack you both too. There's only so much you can take before you fall off the rails. Draco didn't deserve what happened yesterday and you know it. I had every intention of coming and discussing all this like we used to, like friends. I felt responsible for your break up, and I meant to resolve it. But I can see now you aren't ready for it. I just wanted to help. I laid low without him, without any comfort or guard today, to wait for you. I would've waited alone for weeks til you were ready, and you know what? So would Draco. For my sake and my well-being. And that kind of expense is why he's now better than both of you in my eyes, and why I will reside with him now. Waiting for you to come to me."
She has succumbed to tears again, Potter and myself included. His are probably out of sadness and realization that this is hard for her to say, and that she means it.
But I'm close to crying because she's truly chosen me; I did it. I won out even though I fucked up badly right now. So brave and resilient, if it's possible, I just fell harder for this girl.
And the fact that she stood up to them is so baffling to everyone, they are completely paralyzed by this speech. Nobody has a response, so she's motioning me to follow her. We quickly move in silence outside. She needs fresh air and peace; and once she breathes in deeply, she makes her way to me and buries her face in my chest.
No sobbing, I think there's nothing left.
"I love you so much, Hermione."
Her hands on my sweater folds tighten while I wrap my arms around her, squeezing tight.
"I'm sorry," she murmurs into me, but I shush her as delicate as I can.
"Don't be. I'm sorry I lost it. I was out of my head. I just – "
"You couldn't handle it, I know," she cuts me off, looking up at me. "It's fine, Ron was being – just, I don't want to think about it all."
I wait for her to start talking again as she retracts her body and travels down the pathway to giant stones on the hill above Hagrid's hut.
Gingerly settling herself against one of them, I drop down beside her to face the expansive grounds, impassively watching deer dart in and out from the forest.
"I love you too, by the way," she tells me as she realizes she can snuggle in closer here. "I made the right decision. They can come to me first, because I know they'll be serious about this when they do. I just hope it's a shorter wait than the last time, and I hope Ginny can forgive him. She can tough it out like the best, he must have really fucked it.."
Though I don't say it aloud, I truly do admire her optimism in her friends. The fact that she's still open to them apologizing and reconciling almost straight away. I think Potter doesn't realizes all he has to do is say 'I was wrong' to get the wheel going. That's what I did, after all, and look where it got me.
I'm also amused at her unusual cussing.
"Are you okay, by the way? You're really dripping with red. Here let me – "
And I just let her talk, do what she has to, because I know she just wants to let it all out. Say her thoughts and reassure herself without me agreeing. She cleans my face, and tries at my clothes.
"Thanks," I lean in to kiss her.
Remembering how to smile too, she returns the gesture and the passion we threw aside for a night heats my fingertips and relights within her. Touching the nape of her neck and the hair on her head is enough to set me off on a relentless frenzy of snogging. No protests come back to me, she grabs my head and furiously tugs at my hair. Swiftly she ends up on my lap while I lean back to support her. Her straddling me plus the infinite smooches she grants cause my insides to stir.
Without warning, she gets off me to stroke me with vigour, and I moan without even caring who hears it. I wasn't expecting this, but I need it. I fucking need her. While she kneels and undoes my zipper for better access, I snake my hand under her skirt to to rub her through her panties simultaneously.
"Oh!," she groans in surprise. "Keep going, keep going please."
I melt my lips to hers again as she begs me. It's so sexy when she pleads, I crave such closeness she does. Furiously it seems we're trying to make each other wet and hard, our mouths refusing to separate, waiting to see who will give in first.
"Take off your pants," she beseeches me, and I comply as fast as possible while she slips off her underwear.
I don't even get my legs free as she sets herself on me, pumping up and down on my cock immediately. Taking all of her frustration out on me, it seems, and I'm in heaven right now as a result. She pins my wrists to the ground to go her exquisitely fast pace, and I buck my hips up to match. The combination of her pleasured whimpers with filling her so deep and my arousal from how sudden and dangerous this feels makes this experience not long enough.
She cums quite quickly, and quite long, causing me deep gratification while promptly making me get off too. I actually have to stop her hips moving as she's kept on riding me. Right after I cum I'm too sensitive, but she's got me so horny I'm still up for the ride if you will.
"I needed that," she pants after a sheepish apology to wanting another round. Collapsing beside me, I gather my trousers up and grab her into my body.
"I'm good for another go if you give me a minute."
Hermione lets out a long needed chuckle and rests her head on my shoulder.
"Maybe," she muses. "That was liberating, I think I might be alright to go inside later actually."
"Use me anytime, honestly. I don't mind. Angry? Frustrated? Call me. Middle of the night, 8 in the morning. I will find you," I tell her shamelessly and she giggles again, a beautiful sound.
"I love you."
"And I you, lovely. Crazy day, huh? Now it doesn't seem so bad."
"Still is for me, but I think you can make it better. At least temporarily."
The next two hours are dedicated to lying in the setting sun discussing everything that doesn't involve Potter and Weasley, with spontaneous blowjobs and fucking included.
Nightfall occurs, forcing us back in, and I leave her to go to the dungeons with an empty stomach, a full heart, and tired eyes. I almost let slumber take me immediately, but let myself go with the knowledge that just a few hours alone with Hermione can make me calm and ready for the next day of shit. She sends me off with a smile.
I'd do this forever if I had to, and I think she would too. It's worth it.
The fact she is still with me is baffling, but I guess for once in my sorry life, I am doing something right.