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Never Mine	By : RynStar15 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 21248 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters therein and do not make any money or intend any copyright infringement by placing them here.

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I got shakily to my feet before anyone came. No one could know the pain I felt, no one would understand. I clutched the cold stone wall and started forward on boneless legs. I knew I had to find Harry, to tell him, to warn him, but my aching heart was making it difficult for me to grasp the situation. A Ravenclaw girl hurried around the corner, her eyes down at a piece of parchment. She glanced up at me with a quick smile in greeting, but it fell from her face, the parchment forgotten at her side.
"Are you alright?"
Her voice echoed dimly in the hall and I nodded automatically, swallowing the bile that threatened. I hadn't even realized that I'd moved before the girl was rushing forth, her long, shiny black hair fanning behind her as my shoulder slammed into the wall. I turned my body so my back was pressing against the stone and the girl's hands gripped my shoulders. I opened my eyes and saw her lips dancing before me. She was saying something, but all I could hear was Draco's voice reverberating in my head:
"The Order doesn't need another hero, Granger."
...
Two months, three weeks and six days earlier...
When I opened my eyes the sun was streaming into the room. It provided no warmth.
It was early and the boys were still asleep beside me. Ron had an arm flung over his eyes to block out a patch of sun that was slatted across his face. Harry's glasses were askew so I reached over and gently removed them. He rolled onto his back at the disturbance, nearly knocking me off the twin sized mattress which offered little room to three teenagers. I slipped off the edge of the bed and plopped to the floor where I sat looking at the boys. How did I get so lucky? What did I do to deserve having them as friends?
Instead of contemplating further and growing sentimental, I stood up and closed the binds so the sun wouldn't bother them. Then I grabbed a change of clothes and hurried out to the bathroom where I took a long, hot shower and assessed my minor injuries. My right knee was purple and blue; my left elbow had the skin rubbed off. I had little cuts all down my leg from who-knew-what and sore ribs. That I knew what was from. George Weasley had been hurtled through the air and crashed into me, sending us both to the ground. We had laid there helplessly as he was in a Full Body Bind and too heavy for me to lift until Kingsley hefted him from me while battling an old Death Eater whose mask had fallen off. George had barely had time to apologize before he was throwing me back onto the ground to dodge a Killing Curse. I lost him after that.
I didn't look in the foggy mirror as I dressed. I didn't want to see if I looked like hell; if my eyes were swollen form exhaustion or if there was a bruise where Marcus Flint had punched me in the face. I didn't want to see the changes that had occurred in so few months.
When I entered the kitchen Mrs. Weasley was watching bacon flip itself on the stove while Tonks chatted happily as she buttered toast.
"Good morning, Hermione!" Tonks greeted, overly cheerful. Mrs. Weasley gave me a wan smile and nodded to the table where I supposed I was wanted. I sat and Mrs. Weasley hurried over with a steaming mug of tea and told me to drink it. I could taste the pain potion Mrs. Weasley had doused it with and smiled at her.
"Thank you. I feel much better, now." And indeed I did. A warm, soft feeling floated over my skin and into my sore muscles, soothing away the toil from the night before. "How long did I sleep?"
"Only a few hours, dear. I want you to go straight back upstairs after you get some breakfast in you," Mrs. Weasley proclaimed, bustling back into the kitchen to fill me a plate. Rather than argue, I decided to change the subject.
"How are Bill and Ginny?"
"They're doing just fine now. Of course Fleur is acting like Bill is moments from death, no matter what the Healer's say. Can't blame the poor dear, though, not in her state."
I nodded in understanding. The two had been married in July and announced the conception of their first child three weeks later. Ever since, Fleur had been extremely reluctant to allow Bill out of her sight and as she was no longer allowed on the battle field, she spent most of her time writing to Ginny at Hogwarts and knitting everything she possibly could. I had now received two scarves, a pair of mittens, four hats, and socks. Although I had no need for these items, I had to admit that her skills had far exceeded my own pitiful attempts. Thank goodness I had given it up. I was obviously not cut out to be a homemaker.
"And Remus?"
"Better," Tonks replied as she sliced the toast diagonally and dropped two pieces on the plate Mrs. Weasley held out. "He was able to get some broth down this morning and even said hello."
I didn't ask what had happened. I didn't want to know. I could piece enough together on my own by the brutality of his injuries. It seemed he had met his sire on the field.
They spoke of lighter things and I asked if we would be returning to Hogwarts on Monday and was given the affirmative. Neville wouldn't be returning until Thursday, however. I didn't ask why. The important thing was that he would be.
"And what about Malfoy? Draco? What will happen with him?"
The older women passed a look amongst themselves. "I figured it was you," Tonks said, looking back down at the eggs she was whipping. I wondered vaguely why she wasn't using magic. "He's at headquarters for the moment. We're not really sure what we want to do with him yet. Why did you send him?"
"He chose us," I said simply, skewering some scrambled eggs and popping them into my mouth. I chewed slowly. Swallowed. "I'll go see him. Talk to him."
"Hermione dear, do you really think that is the best idea?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice tight, her hands gripping the counter. "After all you children have said about him, after everything he's done, what he did to Ron, what he did to Dumbledore-"
"Mrs. Weasley, you know as well as I that he didn't do anything to Dumbledore. Snape did."
Silence filled the room until my fork clattered to the plate. "Thank you for breakfast. I'll be back in time to help with lunch."
Without another word, I walked forward to the fireplace and took the Floo to headquarters. Arthur and Kingsley had insured that this and Hogwarts were the only fireplaces that could make it into headquarters. When I landed, I found Mundungus Fletcher and Mad-Eye Moody sitting at the scrubbed wooden table, a mug of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey in the latter's hands.
"'Ere's my girl!" Mundungus slurred, slumped low in his seat. "How are ye, 'Ermione?"
"Shut your inebriated mouth, Dung," Moody growled. Apparently, his name fit him today. "What are you doing here, girl?"
"I came to speak to Malfoy- Draco." I kept forgetting that when speaking to Order members"Malfoy" usually meant "Lucius" not "sniveling 17-year-old."
"So, Nymphadora was right," Moody said, his fingers tapping the flask at his hip absentmindedly. "I'll be hearing about that for a while. Alright. Go on up. But he ain't spoke since he got here. Got your wand, then?"
I pulled it out from the holster at my hip and showed it to him. He nodded, Dung swayed, and I started forward.
"Constant vigilance. Don't say I didn't warn you."
With a quick nod I was finally able to escape. Moody hadn't said what room I would find Malfoy in so I started on the first floor and worked my way up. I finally found a locked door at the top, Regulus' old room. I unlocked it quietly and slipped inside.
He was sitting on the window sill, one knee propped up, an arm resting against it. The other leg dangled off the edge revealing a large gash down his thigh. When he turned to me the air caught in my chest and suddenly I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move. He was achingly beautiful, the now grey morning making his bright blonde hair stand out in awesome contrast to the bruises and blood on his pale face and dark robes. He said nothing. I said nothing. We just stared at each other across the room until I realized that my mouth was hanging slightly open and I closed it, embarrassed. I had to clear my throat before I could speak.
"I came to see how you were."
"Well, now you did. Feel free to tell all your friends that you did your humanitarian deed for the day."
He turned back to the window as if dismissing me, but I was unfazed. He had always been a condescending prat. It wasn't as though I expected him to be warm and fuzzy and grateful that I'd saved his pitiful life. He was still Malfoy, after all.
I stepped further into the room letting the door close behind me, but still he did not move. I ventured forward.
"Do you want me to look at that cut on your leg? It looks fairly deep."
He glanced at me then, a disgusted look on his face, before turning back to the miserable street scene before him, leaning against the dirty pane as if wishing he could simply melt through it in order to get away from me.
Ignoring his abysmal demeanor, I stepped forward and knelt by his leg, pulling out my wand in the process. I reached out my hand to move the material of his pants away when he snatched my wrist painfully.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Granger?" he snarled, his face contorted with fury. "Do you really think I'd let your dirty hands touch me? Do you honestly believe I want you anywhere near me? Get the fuck out!"
He shoved me back and I hit the floor hard, hissing in pain when my elbow met the brunt of my weight.
"What the hell, Malfoy?" I snapped. "I come to help you and this is how you thank me?"
"I don't need your help, Granger! I am not one of your charity cases! I don't need you to coo all over me and pretend like we're bosom buddies all of the sudden! You've done enough as it is."
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that he had been through a lot; he'd just left his parents (such as they were), his friends, the only life he knew, and come to a foreign place in the company of people who hated him, who fought against him. His decision couldn't have been an easy one and it would likely haunt him for the rest of his life, regardless of the fact that it was the correct one.
"Just let me look at your injuries and then I'll leave you be."
He was on his feet and pulling me up by the front of my shirt before I had time to gasp in fear. He lifted me until his face was barely a breath from mine, my feet dangling uselessly.
"Get this through your bushy head now, Granger," he growled through gritted teeth, his eyes blazing with ire. "I do not want, nor need, your help. Now get. The fuck. Away from me."
He released me and my feet hit the ground, jarring my bones. I brushed off the front of my shirt and turned to the door as if I hadn't a care in the world, as if he hadn't just threatened me. I took a few measured steps before turning on my heel.
"Petrificus Totalis!"
The spell hit him full in the chest, his brows raised in shock, and he went down with enough force to rattle the door in its frame. I sauntered over with an accomplished smile on my lips and crouched beside him, my face hovering above his.
"Now, while you're listening like a good little ferret, I'm going to tell you this once and only once. You are here under the hospitality of my side which, by your choice, is now your side. So, I suggest you learn to watch your fucking mouth and show a little gratitude or your ass will be so full of Death Eaters you'll be vomiting the Dark Mark. Got it? Good."
With that said I went forth healing his wounds deftly. I wouldn't put myself with Madame Pomfrey's ability, but I hadn't had anyone complain thus far. The gash on his leg knitted itself together and the bruising and swelling on his face and ribs went down. I had to hold my breath the entire time I worked on his ribs because his smooth, ripped chest made my belly do flip-flops. Goodness, the boys didn't look like this...
My eyes fell to the long, thin scar that ran from under his left nipple to the top of his right hip, evidence of Harry's misjudgement. My jaw tightened and my eyes met the silver ones below me, his gaze, though frozen, was deafening. I looked away quickly with the realization that he had as many reasons to hate and distrust us as we did him.
When I'd accomplished all I could, I siphoned the crusted blood and cleaned the wounds, his hair, and his clothing, mending the tears. I looked into the grey depths and could feel the palpable hate pouring out of them and through my body. I tapped his cheek as one would a good child and stood. When I got to the door I flicked my wand and lifted the spell. Malfoy roared instantly and dove towards me. I ducked from the room and slammed the door with a grin as he screamed in rage. I jogged down the stairs and passed the two men sitting at the table without a word. Moody chuckled and I knew he had seen what had happened. I tossed the green powder into the flames and stepped in and I heard him rumble "Atta girl" as I was whisked away.
I kept myself busy the rest of the day, helping Mrs. Weasley feed the Order and family members, soothing Fleur, and the worst part:
Alerting the families of the dead.
I asked to go to the Patil house alone. I spoke to Parvati's stricken parents and explained that we had yet to find Padma. It was all I could do not to cry, but I swallowed it back and told the grieving couple where they could go for help and support and that we wouldn't stop looking until we had found Padma and the others that had been stolen away from the field of battle. I didn't tell them that it was likely she had been taken by the Death Eater's as a plaything. She was beautiful, Pureblood, young. Chances were we'd never see Padma again.
I was back in time for dinner and the boys finally came down, Harry taking me into a long embrace. I led them both into the kitchen, where we filled our plates and took them up to the drawing room, seeking solitude. I informed Harry quietly about Parvati and Ernie while Ron sat silent, picking at his food. Harry took every death hard and most of the Order wished I wouldn't divulge such information. But I told them that Harry, Ron, and I didn't keep secrets. We could confide anything to each other and we trusted each other to be there when others wouldn't.
Then I told them about Malfoy.
"WHAT!?"
My ears were ringing from this dual exclamation and I stuffed my fingers in them and rubbed. "Was that completely necessary?"
"Hermione, are you DAFT?" Ron shouted from where he sat half a meter from me on the couch, mashed potato spraying from his mouth.
"Not the last time I checked," I responded calmly, wiping bits of gravy from my shirt with a napkin.
"Hermione, what were you thinking?" Harry snapped, his spoonful of peas hovering halfway off the plate. "You know we can't trust Malfoy!"
"No, in fact we don't know that, and if he chooses to come to us, who are we to say no? He chose to leave behind his family, possibly putting them into danger by his actions. The least we can do is give him the benefit of the doubt."
"Benefit of the doubt?" Ron roared. "He nearly bloody killed me last year!"
"You know very well that poison was not meant for you," I replied coolly. "I understand that he has made many mistakes, but shouldn't we take this as an olive branch?"
"He can't stay at headquarters," Ron stated matter-of-factly, completely ignoring my words. "He'll betray us all!"
"Oh, Ronald, honestly!" I sighed, tossing my napkin onto my untouched meal. "He can't leave his room let alone the house! Besides, even if he did manage to escape, he can't tell them where we are anyway, he's not a Secret Keeper. He wanted to come to our side, he wanted to defect. Have you two ever thought for one moment that he didn't want to be a Death Eater?"
"No," they responded simultaneously. I rolled my eyes.
"Try to put yourself in his shoes, would you? Harry, what happened to you being sympathetic to his plight when you saw him on that tower? Did he seem like a cold-blooded killer then?"
"He may not have killed Dumbledore," Harry muttered. "But he didn't stop it either. He could have come to our side then, Dumbledore gave him the choice, but he didn't. He chose to be a Death Eater instead. He lost his chance."
"And people only ever get one, do they?" I snapped, my anger mounting. I couldn't believe these two. Then again, I should be used to this by now. They never changed, always bullheaded. But how could they be so thick all the time?
"Some people," Harry mumbled, not meeting my eye.
Tired of the constant barrage of immaturity, I excused myself and headed to my room. Sinking onto my bed, I thought about Malfoy's predicament. Had he changed? Had he finally realized the consequences of his actions and was willing to help us to amend for them? What had happened to him since that fateful night on that tower that had led him to choosing our side?
Then again, why was I so worried about it? Was he what Malfoy had claimed? A charity case? And why couldn't anyone else recognize the horror he must have been through? Could no one imagine how hard it must have been for him to leave his family behind? The turmoil he'd gone through last year when appointed his abhorrent task?
Maybe that was why I was able to connect with him. Straight after Dumbledore's funeral, I had gone out and seen my parents for the last time. A quick Obliviate! and I was suddenly an orphan. I would probably never see them again, but at least this way I knew they were safe. I made their new house in Australia Unplottable and put defensive wards up, just in case. No one was going to touch them.
Not as though I credited that as anywhere nearly as wrenching as Malfoy's situation. What had he been through? How must he have been brought up? I shuddered imagining being raised by psychotic Death Eaters. If anyone needed a helping hand, it was him. Despite the cruel words, the hard exterior, I couldn't hate him. When Harry had told everyone about Malfoy being forced to kill Dumbledore, my heart had melted and all the awful things he'd done seemed to come into focus. He was simply lashing out, as any person in his station would do.
Deciding I could brew no more on the situation, I started in on Charms homework. Battle or no, it was still due on Monday. I hadn't gotten far before the boys shuffled in looking significantly repentant so I smiled and ushered over. They were, after all, just boys.
As we settled into the three-foot essay, I realized Harry had been still for several minutes with his quill to the paper, doing no more than creating a giant ink splotch.
"Harry?" I asked quietly. He looked up, his eyes haunted. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Ron looked up from his book, glanced at me, then at harry, his pink lips slightly parted. Harry stared at us for a moment, dropped his quill, and rubbed his hands on his jeans.
"It's true, Hermione. It's just like I said."
I couldn't move, I was frozen. The look on his face...
"We can't kill him, I can't kill him. We haven't done enough."
"Harry, mate," Ron said, his voice low. "We've done everything-"
"It's not enough. I can't kill him. I tried. I used the Killing Curse over and over and nothing!" Harry smashed his fists down on the parchment before him, the sound causing me to jump in my wound-up state. "He just won't die! We did what Dumbledore told us to do, we got the fucking Horcruxes! We did everything!"
I wanted to go to him but I couldn't. All I could do was stare at him and wonder why he had to take this burden, though the answer was obvious. Because he was the only one who could.
"All those missions, all this time, all those people and still, it will never end!" he cried, his voice cracking in defeat.
"Harry," I whispered into the stale air of the room. "It's only been a few months, we can't give up hope. We'll figure this out."
"Figure out what, Hermione?" Harry thundered, his cheeks pink with emotion. "There's nothing more to figure out! He's invincible!"
"He's not invincible," I said soothingly. "He's not immortal. If you remember correctly, you are the one who made sure of that. We can beat him, Harry. We just need to figure out what it is that we need. We won't stop, not until it's over."
"I just," he sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging against the weight of his burden. "I just want this to end. I want my life back. I don't want to wake each morning wondering if we'll be called to another battle, if I'll lose more people I care about before the day is over. I don't want to have to wonder during Potions if I have to be kidnapped by Death Eaters so they can take me to Voldemort so I can see if he'll die this time. I don't want to have to face him down again until we know for sure that I can take him. Because if he kills me, then what? Where will that leave all of you?"
"He won't kill you." I stated earnestly. How did I sound so calm? "I know you're tired. We all are. But we're all in this with you. We'll do what we have to do for however long it takes us. We'll make it through this because we have to win. There is no other choice, Harry. We have to win."
He looked at me then, finally, his eyes almost pleading. At the resolute look on my face he sighed, nodded.
"Yeah. Yeah, we do."
I reached out my hand and he took it. I gave it a small squeeze and smiled when he pushed my thick hair out of my face. I broke the contact before I allowed emotion to take hold. "Now get started on that paper. I'm not doing it for you again."
The night wore on like so many others. When Ron asked me for the third time how to spell the name of "that guy who poisoned a lamp post" (Vlamir Hornezcheskley, was it really that hard?) I kicked them both out and crawled into bed. But still, I didn't sleep. Ginny had ended up staying at St. Mungo's another night because Mrs. Weasley thought she needed more "rest" and the room was so quiet and empty and lonely. I wondered what Malfoy was doing, what he was thinking, if he had as much trouble setting aside the horrible images of war as I did.
As the night pressed around me and curiosity tore at the fibers of my mind, I swung my legs out of bed and slipped down the stairs before I could consider the intelligence of my split-second decision. Questions heaped upon each other until I felt like a dam ready to burst and I would never get any rest until they were answered.
That being said, it made all the sense in the world to pay Malfoy a quick visit.
...
XOXO
RynStar15
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Never Mine