Draco's Point of View
When I wake the light is bright in the window. Late morning. I try to sit up in the bed. But just when I find leverage with my elbow to push up, a searing pain sparks in my temples causing me to lie back down against the pillow again, flustered and sweating. I put my hand up to block the light coming in from a crack in the curtains and notice her silhouette sitting up on the windowsill, her feet almost blue with the cold.
I tried to clear my throat to speak but it's heavy. Instead, I block the light from my eyes and watch her. She's sitting, her eyes trailed towards the door but distant. Blinking far too slowly to be focusing on it. Her legs are crossed with her ankles pulled close to her. She's far away, conceptually. I've grown used to that frozen look on her face when she's lost somewhere in her mind or in her thoughts or perhaps even her memories.
After a beat when the haze in my head and over my eyes settles, I reach my hand out to touch her arm. I expect her to jump, shocked out of her daze by my sudden unannounced intrusion. But she doesn't. She takes a while for my hand to register on her arm before she turns her gaze slowly towards me.
"You're up," she says, trying to make her tone light and seemingly awake. But I can hear the unuse in her throat. Her eyes look alert as if she's been awake for a while, but she hasn't spoken until just now. How long has she been sitting up on the windowsill just staring ahead of her?
"What's wrong?" I croak, clearing my throat loudly. I try to sit up again but the pain in my head beckons me only as far as turning on my side towards her. I flinch.
"That potion that Tonk's gave you will have some serious withdrawals so don't try and move or get up for a while," she warns. But her usual authoritative tone isn't there. She would never miss a chance to be bossy.
"Granger? What's wrong?" I ask again, my voice weak against the pounding pain in my temples. I pull my arm back under the covers and grit my teeth together as it starts to burn. Her head turns away slowly, back towards the bedroom door and I notice I'm losing her attention again.
I reach my hand out again and hiss loudly as the edge of the duvet is pressed against the bandage.
"Granger?" I say, squeezing her arm gently.
"Nothings wrong," she says, mulling that word around in her mouth.
"Did I…do something?" I ask, unsure.
"No don't be silly," she answers, her voice distant.
Outside in the street down below our bedroom window where the muggles live, a door bangs loudly. I think it must be one of those 'jeeps' Granger had explained to me. Her attention snaps up and she slides quickly around on the sill and her hand finds the gap in the curtain easily, pulling it to the side. I squeeze my eyes shut against the intrusion.
"What are you doing?" I ask, throwing my arm over my eyes.
"They're home early today," she responds, puzzled. I notice she's wearing a T-shirt I had worn the night before I left to find Blaise.
"Who are you talking about?" I ask.
"The muggle man across the street and his daughter. I watch them a lot," she says nonchalantly.
"You watch them?" I retort, baffled. I turn to look at her. Her eyes confused and her disposition concerned as she turns her head to follow them better out the window.
"Do you ever wish you were a muggle, Malfoy?" Her question shocks me.
Being born a muggle, - a squib to magical parents was considered a curse when I was younger. I remember my father's friend Richard who stopped coming over once my father found out his wife was pregnant with a squib. He had been nice. He had shown me how to carve ridges into my broom to make it easier to grip on ascends. But when my father found out about the baby, Richard became a non-person. Not to be mentioned or talked about in the Manor ever again.
"No, I don't," I admit. Not in this lifetime anyways. She sighs loudly, still watching out the window.
"Do you?" I ask, wondering is this the reason for her dissociation. She doesn't answer me at first just continues watching them out the window.
"Granger?" I call, throwing my legs over the side of the bed.
"It just seems like they haven't a care in the world. Muggles. Their worries seem far less than what we're going through right now in the wizarding world," she elaborates.
"I guess it just seems that way because you're watching them for a moment. I'm sure they have their own issues," I explain.
"Actually, I've been watching this man and his daughter for a long time. I've grown accustomed to their daily schedule and how they usually leave their house and arrive home at the exact same times every day. Their routine is unfazed. Untouched by the war around us," she says, her tone flat and distant.
"Muggles have wars too Granger, you know this. Often, they've been far worse than any we've had."
"Hmm," she muses.
"Come away from the window Granger," I call, and she turns her head slightly but remains in her seat watching them.
"Are these thoughts coming up because I left?" I ask, raising from the bed shakily to sit on the armchair opposite her. I take her foot, balancing on the radiator and place it in the space between my legs on the armchair and slip the nearest pair of warm socks over her feet while I wait for her to answer.
"Yes and No. They came up more when you got back, and I saw the state you were in. All the blood on the floor and the way your eyes rolled back in your head when you collapsed. I was just angry."
"At me?" I inquire.
"No. I wasn't really angry at you. I was angry you disappeared without telling me, but I was just angry at all of this. The war and the wizarding world and I guess being part of it all. I was so upset I just thought that I wanted to be a muggle and join that man and his family and pretend that none of this was happening and that the war didn't concern me. I seriously thought about leaving. I thought about leaving Harry that night," she says, her voice growing quiet on the last sentence.
"I know that makes me a bad person," she adds, wiping the corner of her eye.
"Why would that make you a bad person, Granger? You don't think other people in this place have thought about leaving too? You're not the only one. Hell, I bet Potter has even thought about just grabbing his shit and getting out of here sometimes," I say, assuring her.
"Harry would never leave. It's not in his blood," she responds.
"You'd be surprised how much people can amaze you." She smiles down at me.
"When we were at the Manor, and I was getting Blaise out he spoke to me for just a few seconds before he left. He told me he was going to France because that's where his family had gone, and he asked me to come with him. At the time he understood why I couldn't leave but he said the offer is always open if I wanted to. If we wanted to go."
She stands up from the chair and makes her way towards the bed almost defiantly.
"Malfoy, no. It was just a fleeting thought you know I can't realistically leave," she argues.
"A fleeting thought that surfaces more often than it's hidden," I argue back. She sends a scowl at me over her shoulder.
"Let's just forget I brought it up."
"What do you think is going to happen when you leave again with Potter and his sidekick, huh? You think I'm just going to wait?"
She turns to face me, and I can see my misuse of words has caused concern.
"You wouldn't wait for me?" she asks, trying to hide the hurt in her tone.
"Not here. You must know that by now," I beg.
"That's in your head Malfoy. People here have learnt to accept you now," she retorts.
"They tolerate me here Granger and barely. It's only because you're here that they even pretend. What do you think will happen once you leave? You think I'm just going to sit in this room twiddling my thumbs for who knows how long?" I implore.
On some level, she must understand that no one in this house truly wants me here. The somewhat pleasant atmosphere in the house will completely dissipate once she leaves and I could rot away and die in this room before someone would even remember I was here.
"Where would you go?" she asks nervously.
"Ginny would be here," she adds quickly. "She likes you."
"I'm flattered. But I don't see me and the girl weasel painting each other's nails and swapping stories about Hogwarts while we wait for you and Potter to save the world," I answer sardonically.
"Don't be so ignorant, Malfoy. Ginny has always been very welcoming of you," she argues.
"Yes, when you're around. Granger, you don't see it because you've never been on the outside looking in. There's no one you've met who has ever not wanted you in their life," I explain.
"Well, your own actions put you where you are," she answers. I smirk half-heartedly.
The silence that follows fills the room as Granger raises both her hands, palm up in my direction.
"Draco, I'm sorry. That was really harsh I didn't mean that. I'm just stressed out," she explains hurriedly.
"You did and it's okay. You're not wrong," I answer. She comes back over to the armchair and sits awkwardly across my lap. I sit up and pull her into a more comfortable position with her head resting on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she whispers into my chest.
"Don't be," I answer, letting my head drift down into her thick curls.
"You can earn these people's trust in time, Malfoy. They're good people I promise you."
"That's not my concern. I don't care about earning their trust. I don't care about them, Granger. I only care about what you think of me. That's it," I explain. She sighs.
"But I care about them. They're a part of my life Malfoy. I imagine they always will be. At some point, you'll have to make nice with them. I want them to see you the way I do."
"And how do you see me?" I can't help but ask.
"As a good person," she responds. You might be the only one.
Two heavy knocks bang at the door before the girl weasel bursts into the room with no regard for privacy and makes her way over to us on the armchair. She grabs Granger's arm and pulls her up from my embrace.
"Mione quick!" she shouts pulling her. I grab onto Granger's hand, a little concerned.
"Seamus and Dean are back from Plymouth, finally!" she exclaims. I let Granger's hand go when I realise it's little cause for the ostentatious concern the weasel is making. Granger fixes her sock jumping on one leg as she's pulled out of the room. I stare a little ahead as I listen to the sounds of glee and comradery in the foyer downstairs. A thought occurs to me then. One that is perhaps cruel to even play out but one that might show Granger what it would be like for me if I was to stay here, in Grimmauld Place without her. One that might actually get through to her.
Their sounds of laughter and excitement paint a picture of the scene before I even round the corner at the top of the landing. I hesitate at the edge and glimpse down the stairs to see everyone huddled around Seamus and Dean. I have not seen either of them since Hogwarts not that we were in any way close back then. But it's been a long time since I've seen anyone who wasn't in Slytherin.
Mrs Weasley hurries off out of sight. Probably to the kitchen to put on some food for our new guests. I watch as Seamus gesticulates frantically below, bellowing out a story of their trip to Plymouth. In the back of my mind, I wonder did they notice the death eater base there. Letchworth's gang works out of the area but it's mostly a farce. They only do menial tasks and it's to draw attention away from their real workings in the city nearby. That information hadn't seemed pertinent until it just occurred to me. Perhaps it's something I should tell Granger. That's if she chooses to speak to me after this scene I'm about to cause.
"I've missed you, Hermione," I hear Dean say as he folds his arms around her effortlessly. I watch the faces of her friends; how none of them flinch at their expression of friendship and their closeness. No one bats an eye when he touches her. But they look away when I do. I wonder does she ever notice these small changes in the people around her. I guess not. She's never lived in a world where you must scrutinise your 'friends' to figure out which one might be the rat. She lives in a world of comfort and trust and a part of me envies that greatly. Envies the fact that she has a place in this world that is constant, and she can always return to. Perhaps the real envy comes from the fact that I am not a constant in that world. She can always choose to return to it with or without me. These people around her will always be a constant in her life whereas I am the invariable.
My rounding of the corner was fortuitous, merely happening by the weakness of my body from blood loss. I step forward harshly to stop myself from falling. A movement I hadn't been aware of until my foot hit the top of the landing hard and announced my presence. I left my wand on the bedside cabinet because I wanted to make a scene; not a deadly one.
It all happens very suddenly after my footfall against the landing announces my presents to everyone downstairs in the foyer. Seamus moves first although I had expected Dean to react much quicker. I had always regarded him as rather swift and Seamus slower and more sluggish. But he turns like a bullet, pushing Potter through the open door into the dining room. I hear Potter hit the ground and almost smirk to myself before I feel the tip of a wand press hard into the skin just below my jaw.
"I've been waiting to see you scumbag," Seamus whispers low from the step just below me. The crowd downstairs seem to react as if their time has slowed compared to the clock Seamus and I are attuned to. They rush to attend Potter and I watch over Seamus's shoulder at Granger's reaction. The only one I really care about. She's slower to react, still engaged in pleasantries with Dean.
"Look at me when I speak to you, you piece of shit. How did you find this place? Are there more of you? Are you here for Potter?" Seamus howls, pressing harder into my neck with his wand. I keep my hands still by my side, regardless of how close he is to piercing my skin. With his other hand he pushes hard on my chest and his hand slides a little on the material and I feel some of the cuts on my upper abdomen open and the rivulet of blood slowly start. I meet his gaze for a moment. His expression askance as he furrows his brows together in disgust.
At the sound of his last shout, the crowd downstairs turns in our direction and finally, Granger sights me standing on the stairs. She pushes away rapidly and takes the stairs three at a time before she's standing alongside Seamus.
"Stay back Hermione. We don't know what he has planned," he whispers low towards her.
"Seamus it's okay," she says reaching towards his wand and moving it away from my neck. I drop my head not realising how much Seamus had been pushing up with his wand, so my gaze was almost to the roof.
Granger steps up on the step beside me so that she's looking down at Seamus. She speaks clearly and calmly to him, but he doesn't take his eyes off me. I stare back at him. She speaks but I notice that he's become aware of the easiness at which she stands beside me. At that moment I feel like taunting him. I brush my hand against her wrist and again she doesn't move or react, and he sees it all. I keep my eyes away as to hide my intent behind the movement.
"Your chest," Granger's voice breaks through and I look down, noticing the blood has started to seep through my t-shirt.
"It's nothing," I note, looking below to the foyer as Potter brushes off the back of his trousers as he rights himself, bearing the brunt of the accusatory questions from Dean.
"Seamus, come down and we'll speak," Potter calls from the foyer.
"Seamus really we'll explain everything, okay?" Granger says as she takes a tissue from her robe pocket and pats gently at my blood-stained t-shirt. This action doesn't appease her, so she takes out her wand and mutters a quick cleaning spell to vanish the now-drying blood, but it doesn't stop new rivulets from appearing and staining the t-shirt.
"We'll have to speak to Tonks about the cuts," Granger declares, somewhat unsatisfied that her spell didn't fix the situation. Her head is just below my chin as she stands on the step below me, mumbling spells to try and stop the bleeding. Seamus stares at her unbelieving and something about that aghast expression makes me enraged. I try to slow my breathing, reticently. Not wanting Seamus to know he's made me this furious.
I want to ask him if the scenario is so crazy that it warrants that level of incredulous. Is it so crazy that I would be here in this place with Granger? Is it so much to think that she would ever worry about the blood I spill or speak to me in that familiar, caring tone? That she would waste that tone of voice on someone like me. She notices the heavy rise and fall of my chest and lifts her head to look at me with an expression akin to concern, exuding this comfort she seems to radiate everywhere she goes. Am I not deserving of that in their eyes? I savour the look she gives me, hoping she'll still allow it after this scene. I lean down and press my lips to hers, feeling them freeze against mine before there's nothing but air as she's dragged about a foot away by Seamus, almost sending both of them falling down the stairs.
The two new guests stare with their mouths hanging open, astonished at what has just transpired. I brush the back of my hand against my lips and turn towards Granger. Her expression is bewildered and I'm grateful. It's better than anger.
"What the actual fuck is going on here?" Dean calls up at us. The weasel takes off towards the kitchen as Potter steps around the group to the front.
"Probably not the best time for that right now, Malfoy!" He argues. I shrug my shoulders ready to be done with the scene I've caused. I've done what I needed to. The desired reaction was acquired.
"Is somebody going to answer him?" Seamus yells. "What the fuck is going on here? Somebody better fucking answer me before I start hurling spells in all directions!" Seamus calls deafeningly this time.
"Seamus Finnegan! Don't be cursing in this house like that! I'll send an owl to your mother and let her know the kind of language you're using," Mrs Weasley calls from the kitchen. Seamus doesn't react.
"Why don't we all put our wands away and we can talk in the dining room," Potter says, mediating the situation like the fucking leader he's always trying to be.
"I'm fine right here talking," Seamus argues.
"Seamus, please. Let's just go into the dining room and I can explain everything, okay?" Granger says hurriedly trying to turn Seamus away and lead him back down the stairs.
"You can explain? I want this asshole to explain why he felt like he could just kiss you like that!" Seamus exclaims piercingly. I hear some doors opening, creaking around the house as other guests try to listen in on the commotion happening downstairs. Potter notices too and glares at me.
"Wait," Seamus hisses, his wand rising to point at me. He turns it swiftly towards Granger and I take a step forward furious, extending my arm towards the wand to grab it. He quickly pulls it out of reach and turns it promptly back at me.
"Now, why would he react like that when I pointed my wand at you?" he asks Granger. Her eyes dart nervously between the faces of her friends downstairs.
"Unless…" Seamus continues as his wand moves slowly back towards Granger. I take another step towards him as he slowly pieces the puzzle together. As I said before, not particularly the brightest.
"Are you fucking him?" he asks Granger. The foyer is silent, and I hear a door slam somewhere far off in the distance.
In the scene I imagined in my head before I created it, I didn't envision Granger receiving the blunt end of the blow.
"Please let's just talk in the Dining room," she persists, trying to move him down the stairs.
"No Hermione. I want to know if that's what going on here!" he shouts, and she flinches a little at his tone. I take another step down.
"Take another step, please Malfoy. Give me a reason to hex you," Seamus warns, and I pause on the step, three above him.
"Hermione, is it true?" Dean asks baffled. She fumbles with her words for a second and observing her is almost as painful as watching Seamus wave the wand in her direction.
"Go upstairs Malfoy," Potter suddenly calls and moves towards the staircase. He grabs the wand from Seamus's hand and pulls him down the stairs.
"Everyone into the Dinning room now," he orders. I don't wait for the crowd to move as I turn on my heel and make my way back towards the bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
It feels like mere seconds before the door is swung open again and I feel the confusion radiating from Granger. The comfort taking a break for the present time.
"Please explain to me what that was about?" she calls, covertly. A wave of anger hiding behind her tone. I turn around and lean down close to her face, surprising her.
"10 seconds and then you can be angry," I whisper as I press my lips to hers softly. She fights for a few seconds before she softens gradually. I hold her face gently, stroking her cheek trying not to imagine what it would have been like if a death eater had been the one pointing their wand at her and not someone she trusted. I break the kiss and turn to sit on the bed, ready to take whatever she's got.
"Okay, proceed," I comment. Her anger returns as she paces in front of me.
"Was that about possession?" she asks.
"Possession?" I question.
"Yes, to show Seamus and Dean that I wasn't available or whatever you want to call it. Was that jealousy or some weird guy thing?"
"Am I not allowed to kiss you, Granger?" I argue.
"You know that wasn't the time or place for that. They didn't even know," she says.
"So, let me get this straight. I can only kiss you at a certain time or in a certain place?" I argue back. If Seamus hadn't looked at our situation like it was the most difficult concept to grasp, then perhaps I wouldn't be as angry as I am.
"I'm not going to argue if you're going to just deflect, Malfoy. I must go downstairs and explain to Seamus and Dean the entire situation now," she explains.
I step up from the bed.
"You said I should stay here when you're gone, Granger. I wanted to show you a real-life scenario of why that would never be possible. That's what just transpired on the staircase. A situation that I would have to face alone every other day while you would be gone. I just wanted you to understand how improbable it would be. The idea of me staying here," I explain.
"And the kiss? Was that really necessary to make your point or did you just want to say fuck you to the entire situation while it was already in the gutter?" she chastises. I nod my head in acknowledgement a couple of times.
"It wasn't premeditated, no," I say.
"You say you can't stay here because situations like that would occur while I was gone. But have you ever stopped to ask yourself what role you play in that chaos? Was there a way in which you could have made the situation easier for everyone involved? You argue all the time that you're not welcome here and I get that, really, I do. I understand where you're coming from but at some point, Draco, you have to ask yourself are you playing a part in out-casting yourself. You can't expect trust. It has to earned."
"I told you I don't give a fuck about those people I-
"And I told you that I do. They are a part of my life Malfoy. An extremely important aspect of it. We come as a package deal. If you want me in your life, you're going to have to learn how to get along with them. Because there's no you OR them. There's never going to be a point where I'll pick either you or them. It's not an option so don't try and pose that question to me," she argues.
I hear the muffled sounds of Potter and the others talking nosily in the dining room. Granger sighs when she hears the level at which Seamus is shouting.
"I guess you saying that you would never choose between us and saying I have to accept that you're a pocket deal with them kind of sounds like you've already decided who you would choose anyway, doesn't it?" I ask.
A part of me knows that it was the wrong thing to say even as the words were coming out. I think about how easily she hugged Dean. How Seamus was outwardly concerned for her safety when she approached me, and no one questioned his concern. It wasn't suspicious to anyone why he would feel that concern for her. Jealousy can make us say things to the people we love that we could never expect to even think about. I stare down at my feet to avoid whatever expression is on her face. Her tone is flat when she responds.
"Grow up Malfoy while I go downstairs and clean up the mess you've made of all this."