A Hundred Storms

Chapter Twenty-Five: Stand by You

And when...
When the night falls on you, baby
You're feeling all alone
You won't be on your own
- I'll Stand by You, by the Pretenders

Hermione shot up from her position on the ground with her wand in hand. "Malfoy?"

"Ten points to Gryffindor," came the sarcastic reply. Draco stood about ten feet away, his robe wrapped around him and his own wand gripped tightly at his side.

Hermione lowered her wand slightly, mentally berating herself for her lack of caution. "How long have you been there?" she asked.

"Long enough," came Draco's reply. "Please explain why you're talking to a slab of stone."

Hermione finally lowered her wand completely and even placed it back in the pocket on the inside of her robes. "I came out here for peace and quiet," she finally replied.

"No chance of that," came the smart remark.

"Obviously," Hermione replied shortly. "Why can't you just leave me alone? As you can see this is a private moment."

"A mad moment, maybe," Draco retorted. "Really, Granger, why are you speaking with intimate objects as though they can hear you?"

Hermione fully relaxed and turned back towards the tomb. "Maybe it's a muggle thing," she said softly. "Speaking to the dead. It's comforting. There was no one else around to listen."

Draco took the few steps forward and stood beside her. "No one to listen?" he asked. "You must be mental. Potter was up there with the female Weasley, not to mention Longbottom. You should have plenty of people to talk to that actually have the capacity of talking back."

"Maybe I don't want them to," Hermione said softly. "Talk back. Sometimes all you need is someone to just listen."

"Do you still need someone now?" Draco replied quietly.

Hermione continued staring at the tomb. "I don't know what I need."

"I was ready to be very angry with you," Draco continued the conversation. "I arrived back after my visit with mother, which was enlightening, by the way. "I walk into the common room and everyone said you were in your room. After pounding on the door for awhile and Potter breaking down your sound defense charms we realized you were not there. Potter checked the library and returned with no luck. I said I'd try to find you myself."

"How did you find me?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious.

"Not a clue," Draco said truthfully. "I figured from Potter's failed attempts at locating you that you were nowhere you normally would be. That led me outside."

"How astute," Hermione commented.

"I just didn't think you would be out here chatting with rubble," Draco continued. "Are you feeling well?"

Hermione smirked slightly. "Not even remotely," she said. "But no worse than usual. I told you. Maybe it's a muggle thing. Speaking with the dead can be cathartic."

"Cathartic," Draco echoed. "Bloody morbid."

"Maybe to you," Hermione sighed and looked back at the tomb. "It's quiet out here. Restful. The castle was too...close. I felt like I had to get outside."

"Do you think you might be running away form something?" Draco asked mildly.

"Possibly," Hermione admitted. "Harry's on my tail now. He's not going to leave things be until the Maliceptor is taken care of."

"Always the hero," Draco said without much malice.

"It's who he is," Hermione replied softly. She turned back to the tomb. "I'm not going to apologize for telling Harry about you."

Draco's face remained impassive. "I didn't expect you to," he said.

"And you just wouldn't listen earlier," Hermione said even more quietly.

Draco turned and studied her profile. "I'm not going to pretend I understand what you and Potter have," he said. "I would be a fool to try."

"An understanding," Hermione lifted her chin slightly and turned to meet his eyes. "I meant what I said. Harry is my family. As much as I love Ron, love his family, Ginny...it has always come down to Harry and I. We understand one another. We love one another. When there was no one else in the world...there we were. Together. That doesn't mean we're in love with one another. It's just as strong, of course, but it's not the same."

"You speak of love as though you know what it is," Draco observed, abet warily.

"Everyone knows what love is," Hermione countered. "Yourself included. You feel it. You would die or kill for it."

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Kill?" he asked cautiously.

Hermione nodded soberly. "Absolutely. Without question. If I had doubts before...they are gone."

Draco studied the girl in front of him and wondered how the conversation took such a sharp turn. He had every intention of marching up to her, possibly paralyzing her, and then verbally assaulting her about her epic amount of foolishness. All the anger melted away when he heard her words, so soft in the cool night.

"You've changed, Granger," he finally said after a few moments had passed.

Hermione gave him a troubled smile. "If you're only realizing that now, Malfoy, you have not been paying attention."

Draco leaned down and kissed her swiftly, almost shyly, on her lips. Hermione looked up in surprise.

"You still haven't told me what this is yet," she whispered up at him.

Draco smirked. "Always looking for the answers, aren't you, Granger?"

Hermione shook her head as though to clear it. "We just haven't really had time to discuss things," Hermione said more firmly. "Between the fighting and the attack-"

"Not to mention all the avoiding you were doing," Draco interrupted. "Can't forget that."

Hermione flushed. "That, too," she admitted grudgingly, "Which I apologized for."

"I remember," Draco reached out and gently brushed back a lock of Hermione's hair. "I was very angry then, too. And then suddenly I wasn't. You seem to have a very strange influence over my mood, Granger."

"A positive one, I hope," Hermione said, keeping her eyes on his. "How was tea with your mother?"

Draco blew out a quiet breath. "Enlightening, to say the least. Unfortunately not the enlightenment I was looking for. Mother is reaching out to her sister, Andromeda, and her...what would you call it...grand-nephew? Ted? Professor Lupin's son?"

Hermione gaped at him. "Teddy? Your cousin Tonks. Her son. With Remus."

Draco finally looked at the tomb. "I never really met her. You seem well versed in my family tree."

"Pureblood genealogy is fascinating," Hermione said easily, regaining her ability to speak in full sentences. "Nearly every family is connected in some way. Honestly I can't believe the old families have managed to keep marriages between Pureblood only families for so long. You're going to have to start importing new blood from the States before long."

"You think?" Draco turned to her with a smirk on his face. "Wonder if I could special order a bride?"

Hermione smacked him lightly on the arm. "Pig," she said halfheartedly.

Draco playfully rubbed his arm where she hit him. "Or maybe I'll broaden my horizons. Throw tradition to the wind."

"Go slumming?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

Draco glared down at her. "Don't say that," he said sharply. "There is nothing slummy about you."

"That's nice to here," Hermione admitted. "I keep waiting for you to say 'gotcha' or something similar."

Draco stiffened. "You'll never trust me, will you?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't even trust my own shadow."

"But Potter and Weasley are the exception." Draco accused.

"Harry," Hermione said without thinking. "Not Ron."

Draco pounced. "Why not Weasley?"

Hermione closed her eyes and mentally smacked herself. Not many people knew of the fallout between the three friends. The whole ordeal reflected poorly on Ron's character and Harry and Hermione cared too much for their red headed friend to allow the slander that was sure to ensue if the knowledge became public.

She stared down at her hands. "He abandoned us, abandoned me."

Draco remained impassive. "I thought you broke it off with him?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "I did. Because of what he did. I had to. I shouldn't be telling you this."

"Quite alright," Draco said sarcastically. "As I have no idea what you're going on about anyway."

Hermione took a deep breath to keep her temper in check. "Do you understand what a Horcrux is?" Hermione asked him.

"Everyone knows what a Horcux is after the last year," Draco scoffed. "Much to the dismay of the ministry," Draco added.

"Be that as it may," Hermione said evenly. "You may know what it is, what its purpose is. But," Hermione stopped and drew a shuddered breath. "You have no idea what it does. When we had the locket, before Ron and Harry could destroy it, we had to take turns guarding and wearing the thing. It took the shape of a simple necklace, but the piece of soul inside was very much alive. It whispered things to you, soft words only you could hear. It knew your deepest fears and fed on them until you could feel yourself going mad. Then it was someone else's turn to wear it and the cycle would begin again."

Draco remained quiet for a minute before asking, "What did it whisper to you?"

Hermione looked up at him. "Mudblood," she said softly. "Swine. Pig. It told me I belonged in the dirt and mud from which I came. I was befouling Salazar Slytherin's locket and it didn't belong around my filthy neck. My friends would die because of me, defending what I was. My parents would be horrified of what their daughter had become. I disgusted the wizarding world. I terrified the muggle world. It didn't matter what I accomplished or learned, I'd never belong. I was alone. I-" Hermione's breath hitched and she held back a sob under the full moon. So many whispers. So many whispers had made it true to her.

Draco reached forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Shhh," he rubbed her back and she slowly wrapped her arms around his torso. "It sounds like a Boggart," he mused quietly. "It was just a mental Boggart and everyone knows Boggarts are ridiculous."

Hermione allowed herself a small smile into his chest. Draco Malfoy was trying to cheer her up. She found it both strange and wonderful to be held and comforted by this man she used to loathe.

"It was a horrible object," Hermione shivered as she remembered how alive it felt on her skin. "But it seemed to affect Ron the worst. It fed on his insecurities until he just exploded one day. He left us for a time. He claimed to regret it as soon as he left but couldn't find his was back because of the wards we used. I cried for weeks, even after he came back."

"That's why you broke it off?" Draco inquired gently.

"That wasn't the only reason," Hermione objected. "I wouldn't punish him over a single transgression. It was a mistake. We've all made them. He was my first love, but we just hurt each other too damn often and too damn much. That's no way to live. That's no way to love."

Draco stayed silent for a few moments, content to keep holding on to her for as long as she would allow him before he said, "I told my mother about you."

This time it was Hermione's turn to freeze. "What did she say?" she heard herself ask before she could process the implications.

"She told me to be careful," Draco smirked into Hermione's hair while still holding on to her. "She feels you are a political force to be reckoned with and I should watch my step when it comes to your affections."

Hermione dropped her arms from around his waist and stepped back half a foot. "What does that mean?" she inquired cautiously.

Draco tilted his head slightly to the side, taking in Hermione's new and slightly defensive posture. "She's afraid that if I insult you or if I misstep and treat you poorly you could have my probation suspended and send me back to Azkaban," Draco answered truthfully. "I told her you were not malicious enough to think of it in the first place."

Hermione was speechless. "Does she-what?" she sputtered. "Does she think I would blackmail you into dating me or-?"

Draco tried not to laugh outright at Hermione's indignant glare. "She was thinking more along the lines of monetary gain," he clarified, not hiding the fact that he was enjoying Hermione's flustered expression.

"That's horrible!" Hermione declared angrily.

"That's Slytherin," Draco pointed out. "She's not insulting your character, quite the opposite really. She's simply pointing out means she might have used to obtain her ends or seek revenge. My mother was in Slytherin too, of course."

Hermione gaped at him, unsure if she should feel insulted or if she had just indirectly received a compliment from the Malfoy matriarch.

Draco reached out and lightly touched her arm. "It means my mother wants to meet you," he said quietly.

Hermione looked over his face doubtfully, searching for any indication he was joking. She didn't find one.

"I'm not really sure about that," Hermione said steadily. "Where would we meet? In the parlor where I was tortured? I'm sorry Draco but that memory is still too raw. Don't ask that of me."

Draco had flinched at her words. "If it's a matter of location we could meet elsewhere," he told her stiffly. "We have other homes besides the manor you were brought to. We could even go out to a restaurant if you prefer."

Hermione looked out to the darkness that surrounded them, studiously avoiding his gaze on her. "I don't feel comfortable meeting your mother yet," she confessed.

"What's wrong with my mother?" Draco asked with an edge of hurt in his voice.

Hermione quickly shook her head back and forth. "It's not what's wrong with her," Hermione said tiredly. "It's what's wrong with me. I'm held together with Spellotape and Dreamless Sleep potion right now. I seem to go from one crisis to another and too much has happened already. I need time to properly mend..." Hermione trailed off and looked up at him. She brought her hand up to his face and traced the scar that cut through his light eyebrow, barely noticeable until you got as close to him as she found herself. "You're helping," she said in a whisper. "But I still need time."

Draco looked down at her and met her eyes as his expression softened. "I could afford to give you anything in the world, and that's all you ask for?" he asked her softly.

"Well," Hermione pretended to muse. "I wouldn't say no to a few more of these," Hermione reached up with both hands and pulled his head down to her level, her request obvious. Draco then found something else he could give her.

(A/N) I've been working on this chapter for a month. Can I just say this was incredibly frustrating? I'm really not happy with it, but there's some lines in there I feel are important to the story. I hoped to shed a little light on as to why Hermione fell "out" of love with Ron...her logical brain running at full speed as it does. This scene isn't over, but it felt like a good place to cut and hopefully regroup. My biggest stuggle is keeping them in character, so if you have any constructive criticism I do want to hear it! Or if you just want to review, that would be great too ;) Please tell me how I'm doing! You know nothing makes a day brighter than seeing review alerts in my email :) Big thanks to Lookitslaurie, who has been helping me shine this bad boy up for Hawthorne & Vine. Until next time, please review and/or find me on tumblr as arielxwriter.