Consequences and Complexities | By : ckllsdam Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 16322 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and canon situations belong to the Harry Potter fandom and JKRowling. Plot and OCs are mine. I make no money from this work. |
Chapter 12 – Labors
As the rains of April gave way to the warmth of May, DracoDraco had finally pushed through enough of his pain and
guilt to see that the work he was doing was yielding some results. He hadn’t
had a violent nightmare in nearly two months, and he’d started to truly embrace
the idea that his accountability today was in rebuilding his own life and
finding ways to genuinely atone for what had been done by his hands in ways
that did not cause him to shoulder the blame for the heinous deeds.
The young man, however, was more conflicted than ever about
his feelings and reactions to one Hermione Granger. He’d finally admitted to
himself and his therapists that there had been a long-standing latent physical
and intellectual attraction to the young woman. One problem with that was the
additional thin layer of guilt that the realization caused – his fascination
with her had likely been the reason his crazy aunt had targeted her for so much
of his manipulated vitriol. Weeks earlier, he’d uncovered a memory of the wicked
witch using Legilimency on him during their so-called “lessons” after Hogwarts
had been shuttered; there was no telling how many times she’d performed the
spell on him nor what she’d seen during her forays into his thoughts and
feelings. As much as his brain knew he was not accountable or responsible for
the resulting violence against the girl, his heart still felt the remorse.
Draco’s latest meeting with Dr. Kate had added another layer
of complexity to what he’d been thinking and feeling. He’d returned to his
memories of that meeting often in the last several days, mulling over what
they’d discussed and what additional insight he’d gained as a result.
When Draco had settled
into his familiar seat near the expansive picture window, Dr. Kate was ready to
dive in with a set of questions and observations that she’d apparently been constructing
for a couple of weeks. He could feel her intense gaze and the air was heavy
with a sense of purposefulness.
“Draco,” she began
with a breath, “you have had a fair amount of difficulty with both me and David
in sharing things that you viewed as intensely personal. It’s clear that you’ve
relaxed some as we’ve come to know each other better, but you still
occasionally struggle with discussing intimate items. I’ve noticed that it’s
not just things related to sexual issues, but also topics that are related to
your deeper thinking and feeling. Would you say that’s a fair assessment?”
To his credit, Draco didn’t
avoid her eyes as he responded. “I would agree. I’ve always been a very private
person; my family has always been… circumspect in its expression of thoughts
and emotions. It’s what I was raised to do, to be.”
“So, why do you think
you were able to share so many of those intimate thoughts and experiences with
Miss Granger when you’ve been so reticent to express them with anyone else?” Kate
pressed.
Draco sat up a little
straighter in his chair as the force of her observation struck him. Why,
indeed? He opened his mouth, thinking to make some kind of response, but only
an unintelligible, strangled sound escaped.
“Draco?”
“I, uh, don’t…” he
struggled out.
“What about her, or
about how you feel for her, prompted you to be so much more open with Miss
Granger than anyone else in your life?”
“You’re relentless, Dr.
Kate, you know that?” Draco noted. “Explain to me how you came to this conclusion.”
He pinned her with a challenging stare, not ready to make an observation of his
own with regard to her confrontation.
“I didn’t. You did.”
“How do you figure
that?” he pushed back.
“You’ve told me at
least four times about ‘extremely personal’ or ‘intensely private’
conversations and situations you shared with her, most of them while you were
in the cabin under some terribly stressful conditions. But the rub, Draco, is
that you’ve been in similarly stressful situations with other people, including
our intense therapy sessions and the times you were interrogated while you were
still in school, and not been anywhere near as forthcoming as you were with
her. Speculate for me. Why?”
He tipped his head to rest against the back of
the chair, staring at the plain white ceiling that filled his view. The breath
he expelled through pursed lips was long and ragged. “I suppose I could blame
it on an effect of the potions I was fed which were apparently designed to keep
me as silent about my actions as possible, but I think that’s actually a very
small factor in the grander scheme.” He paused, closing his eyes briefly. “She’s
as persistent as you are,” he offered quietly. “She never gives up; that’s
something that I admire about her. She wouldn’t let me get away with not
sharing with her.” He sniffed amusedly. “I once likened her to a ‘dog on a
bone.’ She didn’t care for that much.”
“You’ve never
impressed me as much of a pushover, Draco. In fact, you can be rather
recalcitrant – almost stubborn in protecting yourself. How was she able to
break through those defenses?”
“I guess there was a
part of me that wanted her to know,” he hypothesized after a brief moment and another
deep breath. “And maybe I wanted to know what it felt like to be in her
confidence. Everyone else trusted her, so why couldn’t I do the same?” He
pushed out of the chair and stood staring out the window at the Boston Common
below. “She was always so incredibly smart and an adept problem solver. I guess
I had a little bit of hope that she might be able to help me when it became
clear that I had no idea what was causing my memory issues and headaches. I
could only pray that she’d be willing, especially
after everything I did to her.” His voice trailed off quietly as he admitted to
his therapist the things he never dared admit to himself before this moment.
“And how did you feel
when she did listen? When she was willing to help you?” Kate prompted. “No
editing.”
“Relieved. Grateful.
Hopeful.”
“Tell me more about
what that meant to you.”
“Even though I knew
she couldn’t run away from me while we were in the cabin, there was nothing
that prevented her from ignoring me, or refusing to interact with me. She did
just the opposite. She engaged me at every turn. While I was coming out from
under the potions’ influence, she was almost like a beacon, guiding me out of
the darkness. I’ve never felt so utterly connected to anyone in my life,” Draco
admitted. The distant quality in his tone betrayed the fact that he was
communicating more with himself than with the doctor. He finally turned away
from the window to face the woman again.
“When I realized that,
it turned every perception I had of the world upside down. It was like getting
hit full-force by a Bludger. When she had a dream
about the… the rape, it made me not want to live for another minute. How could
I have hurt someone so good, so kind?” He shook his head in disgust. “I felt
then that I didn’t deserve to… be there.”
“But you didn’t go
through with it, obviously. You’ve never been terribly specific about what
stopped you. Do you think you could share that now?” Kate gently probed.
“She did. She called
for me. She needed me. She asked me to stay. In that moment, I would have
refused her nothing, regardless of how painful or difficult it may have been
for me,” he confessed.
“So you set aside your
wishes to fulfill hers.”
“Yes.”
“That’s a pretty
selfless thing to do when you’re in such great pain. Why do you think you did
that?”
“In that moment, I
cared more about her than I did about me. Far more.”
“What was that caring
about?”
“I couldn’t let her
hurt anymore. I wanted to protect her. I felt so grateful for the help she’d
given to me, that there’s no way I would let her down. I was in awe of her
strength and courage, and I wanted nothing more than to make her pain go away.
If I could accomplish that by staying better than by leaving, the decision was
moot.”
“Was it only about the
guilt you felt? Or was there something else you identified?”
“The guilt was a big
factor, but there were other things too. I think I’ve always been in awe of
her; I just couldn’t admit that aloud to anyone. I know this sounds a little
strange, but the word that keeps popping into my head is ‘worshipful.’”
Draco felt color rise in his cheeks and turned away to face the window once
more. He gulped audibly before admitting, “I think it actually intensified
after she spoke for me at my trial.”
“That’s a pretty
powerful word, Draco. What does that feel like? Is it still an accurate term
for your feelings?”
“Powerful is a good
way to describe it,” he replied, laughing without amusement. “It kicks me in
the gut every day. Therefore, I’d say it’s still accurate.”
“What do you intend to
do about that?” she pushed.
“I have no idea. And,
truth be told, it scares me to death.”
Having replayed that conversation at least a dozen times,
Draco was still conflicted and had no idea what it really meant. He’d said the
words himself – Kate hadn’t led him anywhere – but the fact that he sounded
love-sick and besotted every time he spoke about Granger was tugging at him
constantly.
It had taken him six days, but he’d finally had the nerve to
ask the burning question of himself: Have
I fallen in love with the one person I’ve hurt the most? The prospect was
beyond terrifying and utterly depressing. There was no way he wanted to doom
himself to a life of lonely pining for a woman who would never, under any
circumstances, return his affections. He’d been hiding from this for months,
but Draco knew in his heart that he truly did, as he’d told Dr. Kate, feel a
connection to Hermione Granger deeper than any he’d ever experienced. Whether
he’d ever feel that way for anyone else, he thought, was highly unlikely. The
fact that she was still the only star of his erotic dreams and unbidden
fantasies, despite having had the opportunity to meet a significant number of
lovely ladies – both witch and Muggle – was just another weight on the scale. He
was, in his desolate opinion, screwed.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The Doctors Roy had worked their way through the weekly
patient meeting, saving the Malfoy case for last this time. There had been some
rather significant breakthroughs and developments in the last couple of weeks,
and both therapists had agreed that they needed to be completely focused to
determine next steps in his treatment plan.
“Since I saw him last, let me fill you in on where we left
off,” Kate offered, knowing that her husband had read her notes, but wanting to
add the “flavor” of the conversation.
“Seemed like it was a pretty heavy session,” David observed.
“It was,” she agreed, taking a two-second break to sip at
her coffee. “He sounded defeated at points, but also a little relieved that he
was finally saying aloud what had been rolling around in his head for so long.”
“I know we’ve touched on it before, but do you have any
concerns about a fixation or obsession as a result of these new observations?”
David wondered.
“I don’t think so. Everything he says about her is based in
solid scrutiny, real interaction, and genuine response. Maybe a little
preoccupied, but that’s understandable given the circumstances. Why, do you see
a shift that leans that way?”
David shook his head. “No, I don’t see anything unhealthy.
Just wanted to make sure that you hadn’t noticed something I missed. My only
concern is that he may be struggling with admitting to himself the depth and
breadth of his feelings for this girl.”
“I’m certain that he is. If you could have seen his face as
he was talking about the level of intimacy he shared with her, you would have
seen an internal war being waged. I think one of the biggest issues is that he
doesn’t feel that he deserves the comfort of accepting his feelings. The guilt
he still shoulders over what happened between them is pretty stifling, even
with all the progress he’s made.”
“So where do we take him from here?” David wondered, seeking
her professional opinion and guidance.
“I don’t think he’s ready to put a label on what he feels
for her yet. He’s still overwhelmed. I think we need to keep working on helping
him release the guilt and finding his ‘atonement’ for the things he did. He’s
been talking more about that lately. He’s made a little progress with his
sexual identity, too. Still not quite at a ‘normal’ level for a man of his age,
but I think he’s stopped constantly denying himself regular masturbation,
although I have no illusions that it’s still a bit difficult for him to give in
to the impulse. The biggest problem there is that he seems to have only the one
stimulus of Miss Granger and he obviously struggles with the guilt bit on that.
I’ve made no progress on getting him to think about dating. In fact, he’s
outright refused to consider it.”
“That’s going to make it difficult to see real progress in
his sexual expression, obviously.”
“Yeah. How can I ever get him to
progress to partner exercises if he refuses to find a partner?” Kate scoffed.
“I know. How much further can you take his sexual education
and healing if he’s only willing to go solo – and even that is reluctant.”
Kate shook her head sadly. “Not too much. If the best I can
do is getting him to a point where he’s willing and able to create a healthy
sexual fantasy and masturbate to completion, I’ll consider it a reasonable
success. Giving in to spontaneous normal urges is as far as he’s gone so far. The
rest of it is a two-fold issue: one half is guilt and the other half is being
head-over-heels for this Granger girl. I’m convinced that he’d view dating
someone else as partly a betrayal of her, and partly a betrayal of his own
heart. With all the guilt issues he still has, I just don’t see it happening.”
“So we’re agreed. We both keep dealing with his guilt
problems and you work towards building capability for healthy sexual fantasy
and release. I just hope that something will break and he’ll think about
finding other companionship.”
“I hate to say it, but I think you’re asking for too much
where that’s concerned.” Kate closed her folder and stood to stretch her stiff
muscles.
David placed his hands on the knots in her shoulders and
began kneading away her tension. “As much as I hate to admit it, I think you’re
right.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Lucius Malfoy was on a mission, determined to find his wife
and granddaughter on the massive Malfoy property without resorting to the help
of a house-elf. Having not found the pair in the baby’s bedroom or playroom,
the family patriarch searched his wife’s sitting room, the family dining room,
the solarium, the library, the kitchen, the yellow parlor, the blue study, the
west patio, the front portico, and the arboretum - all in vain. He was seconds
away from relenting to the idea of elvish aid when he
heard the unmistakable sound of a baby’s giggle quickly followed by his wife’s
own trilling laugh. They appeared in the doorway of his study less than a
minute later, the child tugging on her grandmother’s grey pearl necklace with a
tiny fist.
He stopped his pacing to greet them, arms outstretched to
take the six-month-old Louisa as she practically leapt from her grandmother’s
hold at the sight of her Pépčre. He nuzzled the baby’s cheek with his straight,
Roman nose and inquired of Narcissa with a bit of impatience, “Where the devil
have you two been? I’ve spent the last forty minutes looking all over the
bloody house for you!”
“Language, dear,” she scolded. “It’s such a beautiful day
that I took her out for a walk in the orchards. Everything is blooming and the aromas
are heavenly. We were getting some fresh air,” Narcissa replied while reaching
over to remove the white eyelet sunbonnet that was tied under Louisa’s slightly
chubby chin.
Lucius tapped the baby’s nose with a finger and made silly
noises that vaguely resembled French endearments. “That’s lovely, but leave me
a note next time you disappear for so long,” he grumbled mildly at his wife.
“Well, we’re back now. What had you in such a state to find
me?” She attempted to reclaim the child from her husband’s arms and was
rebuffed with a twist of his torso.
“You had her all morning. It’s my turn now.”
“Oh, Lucius, for Merlin’s sake, she’s not a toy to be
shared.”
“Of course not. She’s a joy to be treasured, as I’m doing right
now.” He sat in one of the large cordovan leather armchairs near the tall,
narrow windows and bounced the baby on his knee, earning more giggles from the
tyke as his reward. “The solicitor called over the Floo this morning, and he
says that everything is settled.”
A flash of sheer delight crossed Narcissa’s face and she
exclaimed, “So soon? I feared it would take many months to get everything
accomplished.”
“Apparently, we aren’t the first to request such an
arrangement. While… unorthodox, it is not unprecedented. If it were, we’d have
had significantly more difficulty in achieving our aims.”
Narcissa chewed slightly at the inside of her lower lip. Her
husband noticed.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now, Cissy. It’s a little late for that,” he chided.
“No, no. Not cold feet. I just hope that they’ll come to
realize that everything we’ve done is for everyone’s best interest. I know it’s
a little high-handed on our part, but...”
Lucius interrupted, “But, nothing, Cissy. What’s done is
done, and if anyone’s upset over it, we’ll ask forgiveness later. Always better
than asking permission, in my opinion. We’ll just manipulate, cajole, encourage
and intervene as we normally would, and no one will be the wiser until all the
dust has settled. We’re an old family. It’s what we do,” he concluded, thinking
that would put an end to the discussion.
“What deadline did you finally set?” Narcissa inquired after
a moment’s silence.
“Louisa’s fifth birthday.”
“And if things aren’t… settled by then?”
“I have other… remedies at my disposal. But I’m quite
confident that none of those will be required. Their own actions are quite
telling, if you look beneath the surface.” On seeing his wife’s quirked brow,
he amended his statement. “Fine, well beneath the surface.
Very deeply buried. And definitely
more one-sided than shared. The good news is that we have four and a
half years to work on it. It’ll be fine,” he stated, though the conviction in
his tone was not unwavering.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“Draco should be here in less than ten minutes, so you two
had better finish getting dressed if you want to get to the park on time,” Kate
Roy admonished her habitually lackadaisical sons. “If I didn’t know better, I’d
think you’d rather stay inside in front of the television all day.”
A duet of “No, Mum!” was the clear reply to her challenge.
“We were watching the baseball game on replay. The Sox
against the Yankees. And it’s because you wouldn’t let us stay up last
night,” Thomas accused.
“Yes, young man, because after the rain delay, the game
didn’t start until after 9:30. If you recall, you were actually fast asleep on
the sofa by then, so don’t blame me for your sleepiness,” she reminded him.
“And you saw the score on the news this morning, anyway.”
“But knowing they won isn’t enough! I have to see what
happened!” Thomas explained with eager passion.
She shook her head in resignation. “God, I’ve spawned
another Red Sox fanatic, so help me.” She guided the two boys into their rooms.
“No arguing. He’ll be here any minute.”
As if on cue, the Floo roared with green flame to announce
their sitter’s arrival. Draco brushed a light dusting of soot off the shoulders
of his light blue pullover and from the top of his head. “Hey, mates!” he
called out, “where is everyone?”
David Roy came around the corner from the family room to
greet his patient. “Hi there,” he offered with a smile. “Kate’s corralling them
to finish getting dressed. They were stuck in front of the television watching
baseball… again.”
Draco smirked in acknowledgement. “Nothing unusual about that,”
he observed. “Am I still taking them to the park for their Little League game
today?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan. If they can get their little tushies in gear,” he affirmed. “Hey you two!” he called
out, “Draco’s here and you need to leave in the next five minutes if you want
to make your game on time.”
Smiling at the normalcy of it, Draco dropped into an
armchair by the hearth to await his charges. Something in his expression,
however, gave his therapist reason to pause.
“What?” he prompted.
“Huh?” came Draco’s inarticulate
response.
“You’re troubled about something.”
“No… not really,” he defended, “Just still thinking about
our session last night. As you well know, it was… one of the most intense ones
we’ve had, and I was up late, stewing over it a bit.”
“Oh. Okay. Not surprising. We did cover a bit rockier ground
than we have in a while,” the therapist acknowledged wryly. “Was there
something in particular that… kept you up?”
The younger wizard’s face twisted as he tried, with minimal
success, to avoid a smile. “Good question. I’d have to say so. We talked about…
her for an hour. Of course I had an
unsettled night.”
“Well, to be fair, we talked about your feelings about her.
There is a little distinction.”
“Not enough of one to matter,” Draco muttered under his
breath. “Couldn’t get her out of my head – not that that’s so unusual – but
when I did finally fall asleep, well, I think you can guess what my dreams
were.”
“Fair enough; I understand. Would you like to talk to Kate
about that?”
Draco shook his head. “No. I’m, uh, fine. There was no…
stress over it. I just need to process what we talked about a little more.”
David grasped Draco’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.
“You’re doing fine, you know,” he reassured. “You’ve had a couple of big
breakthroughs in the last few weeks. You’re bound to need some time to adjust to
new perceptions and feelings. Give yourself a little credit, and a little
break.”
Conscious of the fact that his two young pals were nearby,
Draco was euphemistic as he spoke. “If we’d had this conversation six or eight
weeks ago, Doc, we’d be talking about lots of cold water and self-denial. I
know I’ve made progress, and I, uh, feel good about that… in an emotional way,”
he hastened to add. “It’s, uh, not an everyday thing, but I’ve learned that
there are some things that I thought were harmful to my emotional intelligence
are in fact ways to heal and, someday, create connections. The inverse is also
true. Things that I thought were good for me – like self-denial – were actually
making many of my problems worse. I never understood until a very short time
ago how much damage was really done by what happened to me during those five
years. I’m starting to comprehend that now.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Angry and resentful. But I also
recognize that the people who did those things to me can’t ever hurt me again.
They’re dead. I’m not going to waste my energy on them. Sure, I’m cheesed off,
but I want to focus my efforts on learning to be a good person and how to build
the connections I want in my life. I won’t let my anger at my late aunt and
uncle subvert the progress I’ve already made and I surely won’t let them
influence my life beyond the harm they already caused. If I don’t let it go,
they still win, and I won’t have it,” Draco ended firmly.
“You know, Draco, out of all the things you and I have
discussed in the past year, that may be the most
emotionally mature and insightful thing I’ve heard you say. You should be very
proud of how far you’ve come.”
“Thank you, Doc. I feel like I’m doing better. There’s…”
Whatever Draco might have said was interrupted by the
arrival of Daryl and Thomas, dressed in their little baseball uniforms and
gloves and bats in hand.
“Hi, Draco!” Daryl greeted at
nearly full volume. “We’re ready to go now.”
“I can see that. We should be on our way so we don’t keep
your teammates waiting, then,” Draco said, taking the two light jackets that
Kate handed to him. To her, he stated, “Based on last week’s game, we should be
back about an hour before you. Do you want me to feed them lunch, or should we
wait for you?”
“I’ll leave it up to you. If you’re back by noon and haven’t
heard from us, feel free to make something for the three of you. There are cold
cuts in the refrigerator and pre-made burgers in the freezer if you want to
toss them on the grill on the patio. I’ll leave some money on the table if you
decide you just want to order something in. I just want to warn you that my
meeting might run a few minutes long today because it’s a new patient, so there
will be extra paperwork to do. I hope that won’t create any conflict,” she
added uncertainly.
“None at all. I don’t go in until
the evening shift tonight, so we’re fine,” Draco reassured her.
“Great. Thank you. Once again, you’re a life-saver!” she
enthused, patting his forearm with her hand.
Draco smiled. “No, Doc, I think that title belongs to you
and your husband. Now we all need to get our rears in gear or every one of us
will be late for our obligations.” He turned to the boys, instructing, “March,
men!” while ushering them out the back door with a wave to their parents.
“You heard?” David probed.
“Mmmhmm,” she affirmed.
“And?”
“Our work appears to be paying off,” she noted, a bright
smile lighting her face.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
While Draco enjoyed being with the boys in nearly every
circumstance, their baseball practices and games were rather lower on the list
of preferred activities, not because he didn’t enjoy or understand the game, on
which the Roy family had fully schooled him, but because there was little he
could do but watch from the hard, metal bleachers. There had been more than one
occasion when he’d wished he could cast a cushioning charm on the virtual
torture devices. At least the discomfort distracted him from his thoughts for a
while.
The first half-hour was easy; he watched as the boys did
some basic calisthenics and warm-ups. The next half-hour was decidedly more
challenging. Skill drills were deadly boring, except to the individual player
or two who was involved at the moment. Lots of standing around meant nothing to
see. Nothing to see meant that the brain had to do something. That meant thinking. Unfortunately, there was a lot to
think about.
The previous evening’s session with Dr. David was very fresh
in Draco’s mind, and it had been a humdinger. He’d left feeling like he’d been
spun-dried in one of those Muggle machines for wet clothes. They had started
with a recap of what he’d last discussed with Dr. Kate and the discussion had
mushroomed from there, fueled by all the thinking that Draco had done in the
six days since. If he was honest with himself, Draco had to admit that the bulk
of the drama was his own miserable fault. He’d just had to blurt it out…
“But the problem is
that I just can’t stop thinking about her. And I don’t want to stop thinking
about her. It’s one of the very few things that bring me comfort, and joy. It
makes me feel whole, like something about my life matters. I love that I think
about her. I love her!” he’d announced before he even realized what had come
out of his mouth.
“Well. Now. That’s something to talk about, isn’t it, Draco?” Dr.
David had pronounced.
And they had, for the
remaining forty-five minutes of his appointment. Once he’d started, his
confession was like an avalanche that couldn’t be held back. Dr. David had
sprinkled a periodic prompting question now and then, but largely it had been
Draco, just pouring out what had been brewing in his heart and soul for many,
many months, maybe even years.
“I wasn’t supposed to
be fascinated by her. It was all wrong. Totally contrary to everything I’d ever
been taught. But I was. I especially remember watching her in third and fourth
year, wondering how she could do so many things so well. And noticing when she
started to not look like a little girl anymore. I know it sounds trite, but her
eyes were windows to her soul, and I wanted to look inside and find out what
that picture was really like. I think she was the first girl whose eye color I
really noticed. It was the same shade as the fine brandy my father liked to
drink after a really special meal. Why did I notice that?” Draco had sprung
from his chair and was pacing the room like a caged tiger. “I used to tease her
about her bushy hair and then she did something different – I haven’t a clue, I
don’t know – but it really wasn’t bushy so much as curly. It looked so soft.
More than once I had to remind myself that I couldn’t touch it as I passed her
in the corridor or in the Great Hall. My hands would twitch with the effort. Is
that sick?” he pleaded.
“No, Draco,” Dr. David
had assured him, “but it certainly sounds like genuine attraction.”
“I fought it; I know I
did. My family, my friends would never have approved of my being… attracted to
a Muggle-born witch. I knew it would create nothing but grief. I know I tried
to push her out of my head, but I don’t think it worked. Then, in fifth year,
everything changed. You know that I still can’t recall very much detail about
that year, or the four after it. As we’ve talked about many times, I’ve been
told about some of the things I did, and the very idea of those things makes me
want to vomit. I know I tried to hurt her, to kill her even, but maybe there
was something inside me that remembered what I’d thought and felt about her
earlier. That wouldn’t let me go that far in finishing her off. Now I know from
the memory I had a few weeks ago that, when my aunt was ‘training’ me, she
discovered my feelings for her, and it enraged her. I’m now quite certain that
Granger was specifically targeted not because of her relationship with Potter,
but because of the way I felt about her. That idea makes me ill. If it’s true,
then on some level, everything that happened to her was my fault, because I
wasn’t strong enough to either let my feelings for her go or hide them
sufficiently.”
“Draco, there is no
fault or blame to be had in being attracted to someone or loving someone,
particularly when both people are single and available. Your insane aunt and
uncle are the only people who deserve blame. They took a good, pure emotion
from you and twisted it beyond recognition. There is no level on which you can
legitimately or logically blame yourself for what happened.”
“But it’s not logic
that’s involved here, Doc. It’s my heart, and hers. I’d give everything I have,
including every last breath in my body, to make it up to her. But there’s no
way I can ever expect – or even hope – that she’d let me into her life enough
to make the kind of amends that she deserves, and that practically kills me.”
Draco dropped onto the chair and buried his face in his hands.
“Why do you think
that’s so, Draco?”
“What possible reason
could she have for allowing me anything beyond a nod on the street?” Draco
asked incredulously. “I raped her. I beat and tortured her. I tried to kill her
three times. She’ll never be able to forget those things.”
“No,
probably not. But it seems
pretty clear that she’s forgiven you. You said it yourself: she’s incredibly
smart. She knows exactly who was responsible for the attacks on her, and it
wasn’t you. You were the weapon, but you weren’t the assailant. What if she’s
even smarter and kinder than you think she is?”
Draco choked out a
sound of disbelief. “Not likely. I’m well aware of the depth and breadth of her
better qualities.”
“Humor me. Let’s say
she’s truly as compassionate, caring and intelligent as your heart and soul
wish her to be. Couldn’t that woman find it in her heart to let you in, even
just to accept your sincere remorse?”
“I, I just couldn’t
let myself hope for that,” Draco whispered.
“Why
not?”
“Because if I failed
in even gaining that, I’d have nothing left to cling to. The hardest thing I’ll
ever admit to you or myself is that she feels like my only lifeline. She’s the
reason I want to be a better person, a better man. She’s the one to whom I most
want to atone. She’s the one who sets my blood on fire. My soul aches to
connect with her. I have no right to feel that way, but I do.”
Draco was roused from his memories by the sound of the crack
of bat against ball. The abbreviated five-inning game had begun. He watched
from the bleachers and cheered as Thomas scooped up the ball hit along the
ground between second and third base and made an accurate – if marginally too
slow – toss to the first baseman. The runner was safe, but the defender had
made his best effort. It was a lesson that he thought he might take to heart.
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