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Chapter 11
Cause when I stop, my demons talk
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Opening Notes: CW for Panic Attacks, and Alcohol (but they are going to be drinking a lot in this fic, so practice self-care) This chapter is a little on the shorter side because I had finals this week. Hope you enjoy what happens this week. Also there's a flash back with graphic violence, gore, discussion of rape/torture, and death. As always, the flashbacks to the War are brutal.
I listened to Mothica- Everything at Once on repeat while writing this chapter. track/5ayBbdAswExnSnRifZBOUs?si=neZ5gxFBT6eX1YPaeIcIuQ
End Note: The song that Luna sings in the dungeon is "You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me" by Celestina Warbeck. It's sung in HBP. It's the second song we've seen Luna sing in the dungeon. Any ideas on why?
Thanks to the alpha/beta team for this chapter: Amebb42, SarahFraser, MegsIvy, JustAddJewelry, & bondgirltrb
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Hermione wasn't sure why Draco sodding Malfoy telling her that she was terrifying felt like a compliment, but it made her stomach flip. She bit her lip as she looked down into her rapidly emptying glass and wondered how she was here again: drinking with the Slytherins… and Luna. Harry and Ron would lose it if they could see what was going on with her right now. Ron would call it "fraternising with the enemy."
What would he say if he knew you'd kissed Theo Nott and loved every second, especially when he held your wrists that bit of control over you soaking your knickers? Or that Pansy Parkinson wants to be your friend? Or if he knew you were actually enjoying Draco Malfoy's company? Or that you were basically sharing a dorm with the three of them? He'd burst a blood vessel. Honestly, Ron's tendencies towards anger and jealousy were the most unattractive things ever.
She realised that she really needed to be grateful that she hadn't allowed herself to be manipulated into a relationship with him solely because it was the expected thing to do. So far, everything expected of her hadn't worked out very well.
She couldn't imagine that he or Harry would take the visual of Luna on the lap of Blaise Zabini, their tongues in each other's mouths, very well either. Hermione thought that they were an adorable couple. Their contrasting skin tones were so much less of an issue in the Wizarding World than they were in the Muggle one.
While being on different sides of the war was an issue that might be challenging, Luna had never worried what other people thought of her. Hermione, however, was willing to be supportive of her friend finding happiness, with whomever that might be. She hadn't received anything but courtesy from Zabini since they'd been back. He hadn't shared much in group therapy, but enough for her to realise that he was a good man who'd fought against the Death Eaters in the end.
And he was currently giving every indication of being head-over-heels in love with Luna or at the very least in lust with her. Luna and Zabini. She would never have bet galleons on that pairing, but they seemed well suited. Especially as she watched Luna nipping at Zabini's earlobe while he ran his hands through her loose blonde tresses.
Hermione's eyes ventured over to her dorm mates. When had she started to think of them that way? Theo was Head Boy, but Pansy and Draco…Malfoy? She really needed to decide how to think of him…it was so hard to think of someone as their surname when you'd seen them on their knees in front of their boyfriend, sucking on their cock. When you'd masturbated as you'd watched it too, her brain reminded her.
She wanted to groan as the image flashed in her mind, but refrained. She was sure her cheeks were pink.
Pansy and Theo were eye fucking each other, which now seemed a bit odd, despite the fact that they almost always were all over one another when the four of them drank. The way Pansy had just touched her and looked in her eyes had made Hermione…breathless.
Hadn't Pansy implied she was a lesbian during 'never have I ever,' or was it just that she'd only ever had lesbian sex? But they'd talked about her assault? Was she just not counting that because it was non-consensual?
That seemed much more self-aware and feminist than Hermione would ever have thought Pansy Parkinson could be. Hermione shook herself at that unkind thought. She didn't really know Pansy all that well, twenty questions aside.
But why were Pansy and Theo always touching? Theo was clearly a very sexual creature; what was his and Pansy's relationship, really? He'd said she wouldn't be upset about their kiss in Hogsmeade and it seemed that Theo had been telling the truth. Not that Hermione thought he'd been intentionally lying, but blokes seemed to have a very different idea of what was going on than their girlfriends did.
Draco was rolling his eyes at Blaise kissing Luna and Theo kissing Pansy's neck and purely by accident, their eyes met. His gaze was still a little hard at first, but it began to warm as their staring continued, neither willing to look away first.
His irises looked like pools of liquid mercury and his mouth looked so fucking kissable as he took a sip of his drink. Those rings on those elegant fingers were an absolute sin. A purr slipped from her lips at the thought of how they would feel against her skin… Wait? What?
She knew her new book from Cordelia said it was perfectly natural for a witch's magic to be attracted to more than one wizard or witch at a time, but Hermione had been raised in the muggle world. While poly relationships weren't unheard of, they weren't common practice. Especially not in the upper middle class where she'd been raised. This seemed bizarre to her. Why was she so drawn to the three of them? She needed to read more of that book.
"Well, I'm ready to head to bed," Luna laughed, rising from Blaise's lap.
"I'll walk you to Ravenclaw tower," Blaise responded, chivalrously, also rising.
"Goodnight Luna, Blaise." Pansy laughed using a sing-song voice as she shoved Theo away from her neck.
On her way out the door, Luna leaned back in. "Oh, I almost forgot. The naughtiest thing I've ever done. Draco Malfoy," he looked up, "it was agreeing to hide from the other people in the dungeons that you were the one smuggling us food and medicine. Everyone deserved to know who the hero was. I should have said, but I didn't because you asked me not to." And in the Luna way, she merely closed the door behind her, disappearing without ever saying goodbye.
Hermione was startled by the sound of a tumbler hitting the ground and her head whipped around, looking over to see Draco's head shaking and body trembling.
"No, no, no, no." He looked positively frantic, sweat breaking on his brow, gripping his hair with one hand. "I can't. I can't. I can't."
"Draco?" Theo tried to sit up from under Pansy, who seemed to be frozen in shock. Hermione shot out of her seat and was up, on her knees in front of him, before Theo could get off the couch. She gripped his hand and saw the terror in his eyes as they darted around the room.
"Draco?" Hermione asked in a low, non threatening tone, "Hey I need you here with me, Draco, I need you to come back to me. Give me your other hand, Draco, I'm here and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Let's do the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise Healer Cordelia taught us, alright? I'm going to do it with you, take a breath in. What are five things you can see? Come on, Draco, I need you to breathe." She tried to keep her voice calm and her own breathing measured to give him something to copy.
"Granger, I can't. I can't." His face seemed to collapse and tears ran down his cheeks as he shook his head. "I can't."
"You can and you will. Come on now, five things you can see."
With a ragged exhale, Draco said, "Y-Your hair, my sh-shirt." The little teardrops on his eyelashes were so distracting.
"You're doing so good Draco, just three more things." She whispered, squeezing his hands reassuringly.
Draco looked at his hands clutched in hers. "M-My rings. The hearth and my glass on the floo-or."
"Brilliant, you're doing so well." Hermione squeezed his hand she was holding and smiled. "Now four things you can touch. Keep breathing, okay?"
"A-alright. Y-your hands. My jumper, m-my hair on my neck, my heart beating." His breathing was starting to slow down a little and he was still holding onto her tightly. She wanted to look down at their joined hands or to glance over at Theo and Pansy, but she didn't dare break eye contact.
"Well done," she murmured as she squeezed his hands and let her thumb caress his face. "Now what are three things you can hear?"
"Y-your swotty voice?" Ah good, he was starting to get his snark back, that was a good sign. "The fire crackling. The wind outside the tower."
"Now Draco, tell me two things you can smell?" That appeared to be too much for him, as he shook his head repeatedly looking frantically over towards Theo and then back at her. A wild look in his eyes made her breath catch, his reaction was as if he was being cornered. Why on earth would smells cause such an anxious reaction, she thought.
"The fire, the fire whiskey, and I can taste the fire whiskey. I-I-I, have to go." He wrenched his hands away from her and vaulted over the back of the couch. It was as if he needed to get away from her specifically as quickly as possible.
When his hand touched Theo's door knob only then did he look back at her, a long lingering glance. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but then closed it again. And then he was gone. Hidden away inside Theo's bedroom, where he knew she wouldn't follow.
"Well..." Theo said, his mouth at her ear. How had he gotten so close to her without her realizing? "That wasn't how I was hoping tonight would end, but thank you. You didn't have to help him, so, thank you, Hermione."
"Psh," Hermione started, but was shocked into silence when she felt his breath below her ear in a way that made her nerves tingle.
"Goodnight Hermione," and with a quick wave of his wand, he sent all the drinking paraphernalia back to the kitchenette and grabbed a bottle of Firewhisky before disappearing into his room as well.
"At least he didn't leave me to clean up. That would have been the outside of enough," came Pansy's voice from behind Hermione, making her turn around.
The dark-haired young woman was watching Hermione with hooded eyes as she rose from her seat on the couch. She wrapped her long nailed hands around the neck of her wine bottle and took a long drink directly from it.
"Coming to bed with us, Hermione?" Pansy asked, her eyes roaming over the other girl.
"Um...no?" Hermione hated that her own voice sounded like a question. Shouldn't she be more sure that she didn't want to sleep in bed with the three of them…but if she did, would they cuddle her? She desperately wanted someone to hold her, especially after whatever that was that happened with Draco.
Pansy clucked her tongue and gripped Hermione's waist with her free hand, "maybe next time Golden Girl" and kissed her square on the mouth. A soft whimper escaped from Hermione as she leaned into the kiss. Pansy's lips were soft and she tasted like spice; wild, exotic. And just as Hermione started to lift her hand to deepen the kiss, it was over.
"Sweet dreams," Pansy breathed, just an inch away from Hermione's lips before retreating.
Breathless, Hermione exhaled, "Thanks," to an empty room, since Pansy had wasted no time following the boys. It took a few moments for Hermione to get her breathing under control and drag herself into her room to prepare for bed.
It was much later while she was laying under her plush scarlet comforter staring at the ceiling, that she realized that she'd used Malfoy's first name… out loud…more than once and in front of Pansy and Theo.
That had never happened before in his presence. Fuck.
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"What did you need to run back to tell them?" Blaise asked as they walked arm in arm through the darkened corridors.
"Nothing of serious consequence," Luna smiled up at him, "Just that I shouldn't have agreed to hide that Draco was our secret benefactor in the Malfoy Dungeons."
Blaise blinked at her in shock.
"Luna, that's certainly not a little thing." Blaise said, glancing over his shoulder from where they'd come, worried how Draco had taken Luna's announcement. His mind took off as he realized that what he had suspected all along was true, that Draco had done a lot more at the Manor to thwart the Death Eaters than people were aware.
"I know," Luna whispered, her voice airy and far away, "I've already put in my request to testify at his trial. The Wizengamot isn't anticipating what I am actually going to say, they believe I'm just going to be giving a victim's statement. Strange really, that they wouldn't want the truth to come out and I was approved as a witness for the prosecution instead of defense."
"Does Draco know about your plan to testify?"
"Of course not," Luna said, "Haven't you noticed? He still pretends like he's never met me before most of the time. This will make him acknowledge that I exist, even if it's hard for him. He needs to deal with his guilt. He did alot for me, but he couldn't save everyone that ended up in that dungeon. It weighs heavily on him." Luna tightened her grip on Blaise's hand. "The war made victims and monsters of us all. Did you know I killed two Death Eaters at the battle? I'm not even sure who they were. I may be a victim to the Wizengamot, but to the families of those men, I'm the villain."
"Considering Theo and Drake's fathers were pretty typical of Death Eaters, Luna, you may be a hero to their families after all. I don't think I knew of a single one that was a decent father… On second thought, however, maybe Rowle. His kids are in Slytherin and one is here. I heard her telling Millie that she misses him, but he's in Azkaban for life, not dead."
"I could see how a belief in Pureblood supremacy and the genocide of Muggles might not make someone very inclined towards abiding paternal affection."
"I'm grateful my mum managed to stay neutral during this war and evaded the Death Eaters. She has a lot of horror stories about people she knew dying in the first Wizarding War, so her goal was to keep us out of it and safe. She's also married to a Half-blood these days, but we don't flash that around. It's just not anyone's business."
"Have you still not heard from her?" Luna asked, looking at him in concern.
"No."
"You should talk with McGonagall. She'll be able to help you."
Blaise looked down at the little witch on his arm, with her wide and inviting eyes looking up at him. How much could he really say to Luna about his mother? Could he really trust her with the darkness that pervaded his family life? Would it be too much for her if she knew?
"There are things going on that my mother would not appreciate attention being drawn to. She might just be…busy." Blaise attempted to sound confident, but he was terrified at heart.
When he'd left his mother, she'd been contentedly drinking wine with his stepfather on the patio. Watching the sunset above the vineyard, she'd been happy. And Stefan…well he'd been the best stepfather Blaise had ever had. Certainly he treated his mother well. He was easy going and wealthy, kind and eclectic, as likely to discuss tattooing as Italian medieval history. "I just really hope that she and my stepfather are alright," Blaise exhaled. Maybe that wasn't the whole truth, but it was some of the truth.
"I hope so too," Luna said, letting her hand rub circles against his arm.
As they approached the portrait outside Ravenclaw tower, Blaise leaned in and gave Luna a chaste kiss goodnight. His lips lingering on hers for just a moment longer than polite society would have found acceptable. He pulled back and looked her in the eyes trying to tell her how he felt about her without words, as he didn't even know the words to use.
"Sometimes you don't need to be a perfect gentleman, Blaise Zabini." Luna smiled up at him, leaning in to give him another peck on his lips. Every fiber of his body screamed at him to drag her off somewhere, claim her, make her his.
And Blaise, who had never felt possessive of a woman in his life, knew that he was completely gone for Luna bloody Lovegood. She was the maddest, most beautiful, most creative, unique and fantastical creature he'd ever been lucky enough to touch. How he wanted to get on his knees and worship at her altar. He knew from Daph that he was just as good as Pansy, not that he'd ever share that bit of knowledge aloud. He'd prefer to keep breathing and Pansy's love of blood play was enough to give him a healthy fear of his friend. Although not a big enough fear to avoid fucking her ex-girlfriend. Luna may have been another ex-girlfriend of Pansy's, but with her, it felt entirely different. She was not just another meaningless conquest.
"Sometimes, someone deserves a gentleman who treats them like they deserve," he said, trying to mask how nervous he was.
Luna sighed and reached up to kiss him one last time, nipping lightly on his lower lip as she pulled away. "And sometimes, someone deserves a passionate shag." And then she was gone after answering the portrait's riddle.
"I don't want you to think that you are just a shag," Blaise whispered into the empty hallway, before turning and walking back to his room in the dungeons.
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Flashback
Malfoy Manor
Early January 1998
"You charmed the heart right out of me. To my whole life you hold the key," Luna sang at the top of her lungs, Please Merlin and Morgana let him hear, let one of the house elves hear and tell him!
"You cast your spell and suddenly I cannot forget you!" The bloody body of the blonde witch on the ground at her feet shuddered as the unconscious girl heaved, blood splattering the stones near her mouth.
The witch was nearly covered in blood. It drenched her long ragged skirt, it oozed from cuts and slashes all over her body and on top of that she was covered in bites, the teeth marks of men and wolves. If she survived this, she'd be a werewolf. Her survival did not look good.
"This feeling's utter bliss yet something seems amiss like a Dementor's Kiss!"
The echo of the dungeon door slamming and the heavy footfalls of someone running down the stairs, the sharp jangle of glass potion jars hitting each other made Luna wince. Hopefully none of the jars broke in his haste.
Black-clad and panting, Draco Malfoy skidded to a halt in front of the cell door, "What's happened?" He asked, hands shaking as he put the key in the lock and opened the door. "Are you alright?" His eyes ran over the blood all over Luna's hands and knees, as he pulled the door closed, not bothering to lock it; there was nowhere to run, as Luna was well aware.
"Shh, Draco, I'm okay. I'm not hurt. It's her," Luna said, moving to the side so Draco could see the mauled girl that Greyback had roughly thrown into the cell a little less than an hour ago. His breath came out in a hiss as he finally noticed the crumpled form on the ground.
"Bloody hell," he exhaled, roughly falling to his knees and pulling out the jars. He pulled out a rag and a bowl and conjured water into it. "Luna, help me," he commanded with an edge of desperation to his voice.
She worked silently after settling the girl's bloodied head in her lap, lifting her shoulders a bit off the cold stones and rinsing the blood and filth off her as Draco rubbed dittany over the ragged cuts on her torso. Sweet Circe, they weren't just cuts. They were claw marks. As she wiped and rinsed, wiped and rinsed, Luna imagined that she was anywhere else, rather than kneeling on the filthy floor of Malfoy Manor, rinsing blood from the pale skin of a dying girl. The bowl next to her was red with blood and she dumped it towards the drain, and Draco refilled it with a wandless Aguamenti, not even looking away from the flesh where he was rubbing in the dittany paste, his fingers red with a mixture of the paste and blood.
His face hardened as he lowered the torn remains of the witch's top and cursed when he saw the shredded remains of her breasts.
"I'm not sure dittany will be enough, Luna," he rasped into the cold of the cell. Luna shuddered at the violence that had been done to the woman in her lap and stroked her blood-matted hair, wiping more blood from her face.
"She hasn't regained consciousness the whole time she's been here with me," Luna told him, biting her lip and trying not to cry. Draco looked at the bleeding witch in desperation, and then he slowly lifted her skirts and saw the bloody ruin of her womanhood. Luna swallowed her own vomit and watched as the one Death Eater she had come to trust and rely on, sat back against the wall, his arms across his knees and looked down at his blood-drenched hands.
Luna wasn't surprised when he began to sob silently. This was the third witch in as many days that Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood were going to have to watch die. She knew he'd stay there with her until the witch passed and then take her to be buried on the estate. She'd asked him the first couple times. She didn't need to ask anymore. She just wondered how many more times the two of them would have to do this.
Luna stroked the forehead of the dying woman as she bled out on the cold floor, watching the stranger's life's blood meandering through the cracks and crevices towards the grate in the floor, and looked over at Draco.
He looked like he was dying just like the girl on the stones, only his death was going to take a lot longer, a painful loss of his humanity by slow degrees.
She hoped they both made it out of here alive, and that after the war they could be friends. He really looked like he needed a friend right now.
Her tears rolled down her cheeks and upon falling , made tracks in the remaining blood on the blonde's face. Luna's's tears and the woman's blood mixing together like a cocktail of sorrow and pain.
Draco Malfoy was her only ally in this pit of despair. His cage may be gilded, but he was as much a prisoner here as she was, she thought, as she listened to the slow death rattle of breath and felt the heart beat beneath her fingers stutter and then finally stop.
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Sunlight was filtering into Theo's room and the glare seemed to be right over Draco's eyes. Growling, he rolled over and stared into the brightest, deep sapphire eyes that he'd ever seen, making him groan internally knowing that if Theo was awake, they were going to have to talk about last night.
"Good morning starshine." Theo's warm smile was like an embrace and made Draco feel a bit more at ease. "Feeling better?"
Draco shook his head, "Did you give me dreamless sleep?" he asked, knowing that Theo and Pansy had given the potion to him numerous times in sixth year.
"And a calming draught. I didn't think you needed more firewhisky. You were crying pretty hysterically by the time I got into the room."
Covering his face in embarrassment at his lapse of control, Draco sighed, "My occlumency hasn't been working as well as it used to."
"Well, you aren't supposed to be using it like that anymore anyways. Cordelia said there are consequences of using it too much. You need to be working on the exercises she's given us."
"I suppose." Draco reached out and ran a finger along Theo's cheek and jaw, "But if I had been better with my shields, we could have had a much more enjoyable end to the night."
Theo scoffed and rolled his eyes before giving Draco a stern look. "I don't care about sex as much as I care about you being okay. Isn't that why we are all here? To deal with the war, with how it broke us?"
Theo's eyes shiny with unshed tears and Draco felt a pain flare in his chest. "Theo, I'm here to try to prove that I don't need to go to Azkaban. This is a requirement." Draco explained, trying to keep his voice even.
"So you don't want to get better? To heal yourself?" Theo snapped, pulling back, swiping at the tears that were still steadily falling down his face.
"Of course I do, Theo, but I'm just," Draco rolled back onto his pillows and closed his eyes, "so fucking broken."
"We'll put you back together, Drake, trust me," Theo whispered, pulling himself closer and wrapping his arm around Draco's waist, the dampness from his tears wetting his skin. Draco gathered Theo to his chest and Theo rested his cheek against Draco's sectumsempra scars, his thumb making soothing circles on Draco's side. "We're all broken, but we'll all knit ourselves back together."
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Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she stuck her head out of her door to find the dorm empty. She was not entirely ready to face the ramifications from the events of last night, so she slipped from the room long before anyone else awoke. She was thankful as she entered the Great Hall to drink coffee in the relative silence of the post-dawn and ponder what was happening between herself and her roommates.
Drinking her coffee, Hermione couldn't stop staring at the Slytherin house tapestry on the wall. It was as if it held the answer to why Malfoy would be so afraid of Luna telling people that he had helped her in the dungeon. Draco sodding Malfoy had helped Luna in his family's dungeon and she'd promised not to say anything. Hermione thought back to Shell Cottage after her rescue. Luna always looked thoughtful, but she'd been positively introspective there, often looking completely lost in her own world.
Why didn't he want anyone to know? Had he been worried at the time about being caught, being labelled a blood traitor? Why would he still want to keep this secret when it could help keep him out of Azkaban?
"I know many of you engage in negative self-talk, and today we are going to start the process to address this issue." Cordelia smiled, as their morning therapy began. "The first thing that we need to do to understand this concept of Cognitive statements that the little voice makes about who you are and what's going on in your life." Hermione nodded as she held her journal in front of her, taking notes of what the healer was saying.
Cordelia continued, "There are ten big distortions that can occur: An all or nothing train of thought. Seeing life and events in black and white instead of in the many shades of grey. For example: I'm a bad person. All Slytherins are evil. Therefore, my whole family is evil and I am too." Cordelia looked kindly at Theo and Draco as she said the last bit. Hermione watched as Theo's smile turned brittle and his dimple disappeared, his mask sliding into place. "Those are all examples of all or nothing thinking."
"The next type of distortion is overgeneralization. Extending a negative thought so it reaches even further into your sense of self or self worth. An example of this would be, I never do anything right. Hermione was furiously writing, knowing that she didn't want to forget a single detail. After last night when Draco had his panic attack, she wanted to make sure she was prepared for any future incidents.
"Third, we have the mental filter. This is when you filter out all the good things in life to solely focus on the bad. An example of this would be something like; I didn't contribute enough to the war, or my contributions didn't make a difference." Hermione nodded along as her eyes flickered up. She'd had those thoughts, remembering all the faces of those who'd died and thinking if she'd done more they could have been spared. The memory of Teddy growing up without his parents or Lavender bleeding out on the Hogwarts stones haunted her.
"The next distortion is called disqualifying the positive. When you believe a good or positive thing 'doesn't count' toward your larger pattern of failure and negativity. For example, What I did to help others could never be enough to outweigh all the bad I contributed to." Hermione's eyes flickered over to Draco, who was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest looking up into the sky. She knew that today would resonate with him the most, being the only child marked as a Death Eater.
Cordelia's voice broke Hermione out of her thoughts as she continued, "Then we have the distortion of jumping to conclusions. This is when you extrapolate an even bigger and broader negative thought from a small negative experience. This could be something like, he said he didn't want to go out with me. Therefore, I must be an unlovable person." Ron left me and didn't want me. Noone will want me. Well, Pansy and Theo seemed to be exploding that conclusion.
Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about being pursued by a witch and a wizard simultaneously. The tight grip of Theo's large hands on her wrists, the softness of Pansy's lips and the silver and black of Draco's rings as she clutched at his shaking hands all flashed before her eyes. Malfoy. Malfoy's rings. You aren't on a first name basis with bloody Malfoy, even if you did help him with a panic attack last night. She was nibbling on her quill, destroying it, making her curse under her breath as ink spilled over her hands.
Not again, Merlin, maybe Cordelia will be able to help with my chewing on quills problem. Or perhaps if I could enact some of these fantasies…no, no, can't think about Theo, Pansy, or Malfoy like that. Now is not the time.
Maybe if she'd read her book on magical attractions this morning before the group, these baser needs would be better contained. As it was, Hermione couldn't help but be a little sad that Malfoy hadn't looked at her once all morning.
"Magnification or minimization," Cordelia's voice rang out, pulling Hermione back to the task at hand, "this is when you exaggerate your own mistakes. Or when other people's accomplishments or happiness minimise your own accomplishments and others' flaws. Example: Everyone saw me mess up at the Quidditch match, while Susan had a perfect night on the pitch." Hermione grimaced, knowing this was a train of thought that she often fell down. She was always comparing her failures against other's successes. How could a Muggleborn ever stack up to the privileges and successes of her Pureblood classmates, even the Halfblood students, besides Harry, had all started miles ahead of her.
"Emotional reasoning, where you assume your negative feelings reflect the truth of a situation. Example: I felt embarrassed, therefore I must have been acting in an embarrassing manner.
"Should statements, beating yourself up for not doing things differently. An example would be that I shouldn't have shared that with them. I shouldn't have let them in." Again, Hermione felt this particular hitting too close to home. She often wore the weight of any conflict between herself, Ron, and Harry the most. Placing the blame when realistically it wasn't hers to carry anyway, even in this most recent instance where their conflict was entirely his fault.
"Labelling and mislabeling means to use a small negative event or feeling to give
yourself a huge, general label. An example would be something like ``I forgot to do my Potions essay, I'm a total idiot." Okay, maybe this one wouldn't be too bad for Ron to deal with occasionally…
"Personalization, when you make events that aren't personal, personal. An example would be ''The dinner party was bad because I was there." Harry did this all the time, he was constantly blaming his presence for all kinds of things that weren't his fault. Cedric Diggory's death was one of the most glaring examples.
Cordelia clapped her hands together, gathering everyone's attention again. "Journal prompts!" She exclaimed, earning a groan from Dean and Theo. "Today we are going to explore some of the ideas around cognitive distortions, but related to a time recently when you had some big feelings. I know that many of you are struggling with managing your emotions right now. So what happened to make you feel sad, anxious or upset? I want you to write down your exact emotional response to certain events that happened recently or during the war. It could be something you witnessed, or something you were directly involved in. Did it make you feel angry? Sad? Were you frustrated that you couldn't do more? Or maybe you were left feeling hopeless?" She said, as she did some fast wandwork and with a pop, everyone now had a clipboard to set their journals on.
"Writing it down will help you recognize it the next time these events come up. Whatever it is, what is the first thought that comes into your mind when you reflect on this particular event? Most of the time, this initial thought will be your automatic thought, and we want to cultivate being able to remove responsibility off each of you. Because, this happened to you all, against your will. And none of you are responsible for what has happened."
Hermione tried to sneak a look at Draco Malfoy, whose blonde hair was in his face as he stared at his hands. And she wondered what he was going to be writing for his entry. Would he be open? Would he share what exactly had triggered his meltdown last night?
The panic and fear in his silver eyes had been so real. She'd never expected to see him so vulnerable. He'd certainly never expected her to see it either. She wished he'd just look at her, at least once. Biting her lip, Hermione began working on her own entry.
A couple days ago, there was an article in the Daily Prophet…
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Granger had spent most of group therapy either staring at him, biting her lip, or chewing on her quill like it was a sugar quill. Occasionally, she'd managed to do a combination of the three. The way she bit her lip did things to him, just as it always had. Merlin, how he wanted to walk over and kiss her, putting that mouth to better use. She had a bad habit of bleeding her bottom lip when she was too anxious. He'd seen her do it more than once, and he hated to see her hurt and know he couldn't soothe her.
He shook himself. It was not Draco Malfoy's duty to see to the safety of Hermione Granger. But sweet Circe, how he wished it could be.
Madam Pince greeted him cheerily as he entered the library that day. He didn't think he would ever get used to her change in demeanour, as he had spent too many years having her watch him with narrow eyes as he touched her books.
As he passed with a friendly wave, he wondered if his mother was having success with the book drive that they had discussed in their last couple of letters. He looked forward to surprising the normally dour librarian with new books.
His thoughts were interrupted as a familiar voice rang through the library. "Hello, Madam Pince, is there anywhere you'd like me working today?" Not with me, not with me…Draco begged in his head.
"If you could join Mr. Malfoy," of course, "he's working in the seventh century history section. I'm certain he could use your help today, if you wouldn't mind."
"Certainly…" Was that hesitation in her voice?
Draco didn't hear any more conversation, only the echoing of footsteps walking towards him. Keeping his head down, he didn't see when she joined him, but he felt her. It was as if she were the sun and he was a planet, helpless but to always gravitate towards her and bathe in her warmth.
"Hello, Draco." She said, again addressing him with his first as she had the previous night.
"Granger," he drawled, hoping to sound unaffected by her.
They worked in companionable silence, neither one wanting to break the spell they both seemed to be under.
She was efficient as she repaired the books he sent towards her. Her spellwork was perfect, as always. "How are you feeling?" Her voice, small and timid, after an hour had passed.
"I'm sorry?"
"After last night, and then group this morning. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright…" She trailed off. Draco looked over, her wand frozen over whatever book she had been in the middle of repairing.
"It's just, I can't stop thinking about you, Malfoy. I know we aren't friends or anything-" Draco cut her off as he stood and moved over so that he was standing over her.
Leaning forwards, Draco was hovering, his lips just over hers so that he could drink her breath in like elixir. "Is that what you think, that we aren't anything?" He asked as he watched as her pupils dilated with desire, her breath quickening. So it wasn't just Theo and Pansy that she wanted. He couldn't believe the possibility that she really wanted him.
"I didn't want to assume…" she trailed off as he leaned in ever so close, basking in the scent of her. And just as he was about to bridge the formerly uncrossable chasm and finally put his lips to hers, a soft gasp behind him caused her to turn, her eyes widening with shock.
"Oh don't stop on my account." Theo drawled, grinning from ear to ear as he leaned against a bookcase. Arms crossed over his chest, so that his biceps were straining the cotton of his tee.
For just a second, Granger leaned into him, letting her silk like skin brush against his. With an exhale that sounded relieved to have made contact with him, she looked up at him, large doe eyes shining with regret of being interrupted. Her shoulder touched his chest, sending shockwaves of desire through him and he fought the urge to grab her and force his mouth onto hers.
Force her to the table, rip her knickers off, sink inside of her. Maybe she'll fight back, but you can take her. Her body will open to you. She can be all yours, at last.
Draco tried to banish the darkness he felt rising inside of himself, the desire for violence, but the ragged exhale of his breath against her ear set her off. He could see as the realisation of what had almost happened settled over her.
"I-I have to go," she said, looking at him with eyes no longer full of desire, but full of surprise as she jumped from her seat and ran from the library.
At least she hadn't looked at him with repulsion at the end, although he wouldn't blame her if she had. Thank Salazar that Granger was no legilimens, she would never be able to look at him again if she saw how he wanted to take her. He sank into his chair and dropped his head into his hands, a harsh sigh coming from his lips.
"Well that seemed to be going well," Theo said cheerily, "I think next time…"
"Theo," Draco whimpered, cutting him off. "I think some of the occlumency side effects that Cordelia talked about might be happening to me."
In an instant, Theo was down on his knees in front of Draco. "Are you okay? Do we need to get Pomfrey? Cordelia?"
Draco felt the unbidden tears run down his cheeks, "No, no. I just, I just need you."
"I'm right here, dragon, and I'm not going anywhere."
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