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Songs of Regret	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 76454 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I also hold no rights to any of the songs mentioned. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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A/N: Oh dear....unhappiness warning...sorry...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Acid Pops.”
Draco huffed in the hall as he waited for the stone gargoyle to move and reveal the spiral staircase that led to the Headmaster’s office. He glanced down at the small parchment in his hand.
Mr. Malfoy,
Please see me in the Headmaster’s office immediately following the start of term feast to address a conflict in your class scheduling.
The password is ‘Acid Pops.’
Severus Snape
Head of Slytherin House
Draco frowned at the note in thought. “‘Class scheduling’? Really Severus? You couldn’t think of something that didn’t make me look like a complete moron?”
He could still feel the anger flitting in his stomach at the very recent memory of Zabini carefully leaning over to snoop out the contents of the note as Draco read it at the Slytherin table after Snape had thrust it at him. “They only do private class scheduling for students that don’t achieve a sufficient number of OWLs.”
Draco crumpled the note. The bastard had said it so smugly. Crabbe and Goyle had laughed. He’d thought seeking them out on the train was a good idea until he’d seen them again. Just the sight of them had torn open an emotional wound he didn’t even want to admit he had.
They were not his friends. Aside for Hermione, he had no friends here...though he hadn’t had any in the future either. Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini used to be his friends. They used to be his partners in crime. But in the end they had all stayed true to their Slytherin propensity for self promotion and turned on him. Though he supposed he’d come out the victor…none of them had made it to thirty.
“I’m not going to stay open all night,” the gargoyle droned breaking Draco of his musings. Draco scowled at the giant statue as he shoved the wadded note into his pocket. He ascended the stairs and pushed into the office without knocking.
Draco entered to find the office empty except for Hermione who was sitting in ‘her’ chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk. Her head snapped up at the sound of his entry, and Draco could see that she’d been crying. She gave him a sad smile.
“Are you here to ‘address a conflict with your class scheduling’?” he drawled in an impersonation of Snape. Hermione gave a small tired laugh.
“Is that what your note said?” she sniffled and shook her head. She held up her own note. “I’m here because ‘You have been given an opportunity to expand your course selection based on outstanding academic achievement,’” she quoted bitterly. She gave another small laugh that quickly grew into full blown laughter. Hermione flung the note onto the desk as she laughed and then placed her face in her hands. Her body shook as her stifled laughter turned into anguished sobs.
Draco went to her side and placed a hand on her head. Hermione flung her arms around his waist and buried her face into his stomach as he stood beside the chair.
“I don’t want to be here,” she muffled.
Draco closed his eyes and stroked her hair. “I know,” he answered flatly. And he did know; he didn’t want to be there either. From the moment he’d stepped off the train, he’d wanted to get right back on. Everything seemed to remind him of how shitty their situation was.
The night’s first torment came by way of their prefect duty of herding the first years toward the boats. They were so small, so young…and Draco saw Scorpius’s face on all of them. He’d stopped once to see Hermione standing still, staring longingly at the back of a small girl with curly red hair. The sight had stabbed him straight through the heart. It was his fault she’d lost her children. It was his fault she was hurting, that he was hurting, that his own son was gone.
Unable to stand the guilt, Draco had given-up attempting his prefect duties and trudged to the carriages only to have his blood run cold at the sight of them…or rather what was pulling them.
Thestrals. Goddamn fucking thestrals.
He’d seen them last time too having witnessed McClintock’s death, but this time…
Images of the dozens of deaths he’d been present for since then flashed across his mind as he stood before the grotesque skeletal horse harnessed ahead of the carriage. Albus falling from the tower…Professor Burbage crumpling onto his dining table… the unnamed Muggles disemboweled in the basement…Crabbe consumed in flame… bodies piled in the Hogwarts courtyard…the fleeing Death Eater felled by a stream of green light from his wand…
The last image stuck with Draco as he finally willed himself to climb into the carriage with an oblivious Crabbe and Goyle. He hadn’t exaggerated when he’d told Hermione he was a murderer. He didn’t even know the person’s name. He had simply pointed his mother's wand and Avada’d the bastard as he ran from the spot where a fellow student lay cold. It had been effortless. There was no inner struggle about right and wrong like there had been with Albus. For that random Death Eater the spell had rolled off his tongue as easily as a lumos. And that fact unsettled him worse than the act itself. Morally fucked-up.
Draco now focused on the brunette hugging his middle. He wondered if she had killed anyone. He remembered seeing her run through the thick of the battle, jumping over bodies, ducking flying spells and debris, slashing her wand furiously. Draco furrowed his brow as he tried to recall hearing any music, but the only sounds he could remember from the fight were screams and roars and explosions and a strange steady humming that pulsed from the ground and hung in the air.
“I keep seeing their deaths,” Hermione whispered into his robes. “It takes me back…there.” She shivered forcefully.
“Do I need to prepare for an episode?” Draco asked calmly. Hermione pulled back and shook her head.
“No. I think I’m okay. It was a close call with those thestrals though,” she replied with a nauseous pout. “I never would have thought they’d be that…”
“Disturbing?” Draco suggested.
She nodded. “Yeah. They immediately conjured so many bad memories.”
“I never understood why they use those damned things here. Oh look, it’s so beautifully magical for the carriages to be ‘pulling themselves,’” Draco said sarcastically, “meanwhile all the unfortunate kids who’ve already been traumatized by death are crapping their pants the moment they step off the train.”
Draco plopped down in ‘his’ chair. “The first thing I’m going to do when I turn seventeen again and get full access to the vaults is buy this place a decent stable full of proper Abraxans.”
Hermione couldn’t help but smile. “Leave it to you to suggest the most ostentatious breed,” she ribbed.
“There is nothing wrong with wanting the best, Granger,” he answered with a wink. He held out his hand over his armrest. Hermione took it in hers and Draco leaned over to kiss her fingers. She hummed appreciatively.
Draco sat up straight. “What do you suppose is keeping them?” he asked casually as he rubbed his thumb over Hermione’s knuckles.
A low voice answered, “Confiscating dangerous artifacts.”
Draco and Hermione both turned to see Snape and Dumbledore entering the office. The elder professor took his seat behind his desk.
“Welcome back. I hope you had a pleasant holiday,” he said kindly.
Foregoing a greeting, Snape came around and flung a folded parchment at Draco. Seeker reflexes kicked in as Draco’s free hand shot out and caught the parchment midair.
“What’s this?” he asked frowning at Snape who had made his way to stand against the wall behind the desk beside Dumbledore.
Hermione didn’t need an answer to know what Draco was holding. Her eyes went wide and she snatched it from him. “Hey!” Draco started.
“Shut-up,” Hermione said as she eyed the parchment. Ignoring Draco’s raised brow, Hermione closed her eyes as she remembered the right words.
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
Draco leaned over to get a better look as words began to bleed into view over the parchment’s surface as Hermione spoke.
“What the hell is The Marauders’ Map?” he asked curiously. Hermione opened the map quickly and thrust it out for Draco to see. She jabbed a finger at the circle labeled Headmaster’s Office. Draco squinted at the words and then his eyes widened. He snatched the map back from Hermione and gawked at the small dots labeled with their names. He scanned the entire map to view hundreds of tiny dots flitting about, each with a corresponding name.
“This shows where everyone is in the school?” he said in awe. It was more of a statement than a question. “Where did this come from?”
“You confiscated this from Harry?” Hermione asked looking to Snape and Dumbledore.
“Obviously,” Snape answered coolly.
“A number of your memories revealed that Harry used that map to spy on Draco’s movements when he became suspicious of his Death Eater status,” Dumbledore said serenely leaning back in his chair and tenting his fingers.
“He did what!?” Draco asked crossly turning to Hermione. She ignored him.
“So far I’ve been lucky enough to steer Harry away from that suspicion this time around. He hasn’t shown any sign that he believes Draco to be up to anything other than his…normal antics,” Hermione finished delicately.
“Be that as it may, I think you’d agree that, for the time being, that map should stay here,” Dumbledore replied inclining his head toward Draco. Hermione nodded and shifted from the uncomfortable vibe radiating off the blond next to her.
“So what else did you get out of our memories? What’s the plan?” she asked firmly, anxious to get to the point. Dumbledore sighed slightly.
“I’m still working on it,” he answered simply.
“You’ve had two fucking months, what do you mean you’re still working on it!?” Draco spat. Snape snapped his fingers loudly and Draco winced as if struck. He rubbed the side of his head and glanced at Snape.
“Sorry,” Draco said quietly. Hermione looked between Draco and Snape.
“What was that about?” she asked warily.
Draco shifted in his chair as he refolded the map. “Discipline… to remind me of the possible consequences of losing my temper,” he said quietly.
Hermione shot a glare at Snape. “Is that how you ‘train’ him?” she asked angrily. “You punish him like a dog?”
Snape raised both eyebrows at her. “Not quite,” he sneered. He snapped loudly and this time Hermione felt the effect…or rather saw it. An intensely clear image flashed behind her eyes. It was of Draco. He was dead; broken and strung-up by his tattered limbs, blood slowly dripping from long slashes down his body into a gigantic red puddle on the floor. The scene was so extreme it stole the breath right out of Hermione’s lungs.
As quick as the image came, it went and Hermione clutched one hand to her chest and placed the other to the side of her head. She turned her face to Draco. “He shows you images of your death?”
“No,” Draco whispered turning his gaze to the floor, “he shows me yours.”
Hermione looked back at Snape in fearful awe. His hard stare softened.
“I take no pleasure in reminding Draco of what is at stake,” he said calmly.
“So much at stake and yet you’ve brought us no closer to ending the threat than we were two months ago?” Hermione seethed. She was on the verge of losing it. The pain of seeing Rose’s face among those first years…the visions of her classmates’ deaths…now the image of Draco crucified…
She gave a small, desperately hollow laugh. “Why even bother bringing us here?”
“I am working on the plans, but I never said that I hadn’t made any progress, Hermione,” Dumbledore replied with an edge of annoyance.
“Well, we wouldn’t know that would we?” she snapped. The Headmaster bent forward and rested his forearms on his desk. He looked over his spectacles as he addressed Hermione again.
“I apologize for having to keep you at a distance over the holiday,” he said sincerely, “but I think you can appreciate how complicated this situation is. I have spent every waking moment of the past two months making arrangements and saving the lost.”
Hermione’s heart stilled. “The lost?”
Dumbledore nodded. “We brought you here for two reasons. To begin we thought the two of you would like to learn just how many lives your memories have already saved.”
“How many?” Draco blurted out.
“Twenty.”
There was silence then as Hermione and Draco both gaped at him. Dumbledore smiled. “I have not been twiddling my thumbs,” he said rather sanctimoniously.
Hermione shook her head. “But all those disappearances. Lupin said…”
“Exactly what he was told to say,” Dumbledore interrupted. “Everyone in The Order has been working overtime. I’m surprised you didn’t notice how often Molly and Arthur were out,” he said toward Hermione.
She blinked in thought. They had been out more frequently than she remembered them being the first time. So had Bill and Fleur. She shook her head again.
“But the bodies. They found Karkaroff and…”
“They found a body that looked like Karkaroff,” Snape interrupted this time.
“You really saved them? Mr. Ollivander, Florean Fortescue?” Hermione almost pleaded.
“All safe. Scattered across the globe in secure locations.”
Hermione slumped back in her chair and raised a trembling hand to her mouth.
“But why keep us in the dark?” Draco asked impatiently. “We could have helped.”
“You’re about to start helping,” Snape answered ominously. Dumbledore gave him a sideways glance and then inhaled deeply before looking again between the two young people before him.
“The second reason you’re here is to discuss why the plans have not yet been completed.” He paused as Draco and Hermione gave him their full attention. He cleared his throat. “We are missing a vital member of the team.”
“What do you mean?” Draco asked uneasily. He had a very good idea what Albus was about to suggest.
“We will need the legal owner of the Black family assets and property,” Dumbledore answered calmly.
“Harry?” Hermione asked quietly as Draco groaned. “But then why did you bother taking the map from him?”
Snape sniffed. “Potter’s mind is about as secure as a paper bag. We will not be revealing Draco’s identity to him yet.”
“Then how is he supposed to work with us?” Hermione rubbed her temples at the prospect of a ridiculously convoluted plan. “Explain the plan as it stands right now.”
“The three of you will meet here with us several times a week for ‘special lessons,’” Dumbledore began leaning back again. “I will place glamours to alter Draco’s appearance and voice. The changes will not be as potent as your appearance modification, but they will be effective enough to keep his identity from Harry. As for the ‘lessons,’ to start, I would like to strengthen Harry’s mind. Draco will teach Harry Occlumency until he gets a better handle on blocking his connection to Voldemort. After that we will advance to retrieving the Horcruxes.”
“Umm,” Draco piped up, “I’m not a bloody professor.”
“You are the strongest Occlumens here,” Dumbledore said firmly.
“I’m not doubting my Occlumency,” Draco said affronted, “but didn’t Severus already try all that and get nowhere? What makes you think I’d do any better? Potter and I aren’t exactly mates.”
“Hermione will be there to act as a mediator. I suspect Harry will be much more amenable to the lessons with her presence and encouragement,” Dumbledore answered looking back to Hermione.
“More amenable you mean than he was when he was forced into slapdash lessons with a man that resented him?” Hermione snarked. Snape glared at the ceiling while Dumbledore merely chuckled.
“Point to you, Hermione. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, isn’t it?” Dumbledore said lightly.
“Let’s hope that your foresight is too,” she replied austerely.
The Headmaster nodded once in agreement. “Right then. The Order and I will continue to attempt to save as many as we can while Draco teaches Harry, and when he’s ready we will put into motion the plans to destroy the remaining Horcruxes. Are we all agreed?”
“Do we have a choice?” Draco huffed.
“You always have a choice,” Dumbledore replied seriously.
“You’d think so,” Draco said quietly, rubbing his left forearm. He gave the old professor a penetrating stare.
Dumbledore simply stared back and repeated, “Are we all agreed?”
Draco exhaled loudly and gave one reluctant nod. And when the Headmaster turned to Hermione she assented with her own silent nod.
“Good. We will meet again tomorrow evening, right after dinner. Harry will be joining us. If anyone asks what you are up to, you were asked to take part in a trial of an advanced course by the Board of Governors based on your exceptional OWL scores. Now, go get some rest. Severus will escort you back to your dorms,” he finished as he stood and motioned for them to leave.
“Oh, and Draco…”Dumbledore called out just as they reached the door with Snape at their heels. Draco paused and looked over his shoulder at the old man.
“I think a dozen Abraxans would be sufficient.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione waited until Snape and Draco were a good way down the hall before she muttered the password to the Fat Lady. Heart heavy, she stepped through the wall as the portrait swung open.
Draco hadn’t said a word to her the whole way from Dumbledore’s office to the Gryffindor common room entrance. He’d stayed on the opposite side of Snape as they walked and didn’t even spare her a glance when they’d turned to leave. She might have attributed his avoidance to his spy acting, but when his hands remained down at his sides as he walked away, she knew he was really upset.
As she entered the common room she could hear Harry and Ron talking quietly. Damn it. She’d hoped they hadn’t waited up for her. She was in no mood to talk…to lie.
“Mione!” Ron called when he noticed her walk in. “What did Professor Dumbledore say about your classes? Is he advancing you to Seventh Year,” he joked. Hermione looked at him and forced a small smile.
“I’m going to be taking an extra course with him a few nights a week,” she answered simply.
“Wow, what will you be learning?” Ginny asked turning in place on Harry’s lap to face her. Hermione stared at the three of them sitting so happily together in front of the warm fire and felt her resolve crumbling.
“Hermione what’s wrong?” Ginny asked furrowing her brow. Hermione didn’t answer as she turned and headed to her dorm. “Hermione…”
“I’m tired,” she called shortly over her shoulder as she ascended the stairs. The fire suddenly extinguished within the fireplace causing Ron, Harry, and Ginny to jump in surprise.
“What the hell was that about?” Hermione heard Ron ask quietly just before she was out of earshot.
When she entered her dorm she barely kept it together as Lavender Brown smiled at her from her perch at the end of her bed as she talked to Parvati Patil who was sitting on the floor painting her toe nails. Hermione dove onto her four poster and hastily pulled the curtains closed. She yanked out her wand and cast the most powerful silencing spell she knew.
A cry…a wail…then sobs erupted from Hermione’s throat as she curled-up on top of her sheets and let the emotions of the day take over. Her body actually hurt with their intensity. Suddenly she felt something pummel into her and she screamed in alarm. She scrambled upright, cast a quick lumos and blinked her teary eyes to see a large, orange squashy-faced cat bristling at her.
“Crookshanks!”
Hermione hurled herself at the cat and grabbed him up into a tight hug that had him puffing his tail and extending his claws into her shoulder.
“Oh, Crooks…it’s so good to see you again. Mum and Dad sent you?” God bless them.
She relaxed her hold on the animal and he shook dramatically in her lap. Hermione lay back down again and hoisted Crookshanks onto her chest where he settled down and began to purr. Tears continued to leak out of her eyes as she stroked his soft fur.
“I feel so alone, Crooks,” she whispered. “And the only person that understands what I’m going through is too busy having his own pity party to remember to care. Why must I always fall in love with selfish arseholes?” She sighed loudly. “Well, at least you’re here to listen to me.” Hermione lifted her head slightly to look down at Crookshanks who was now sleeping contentedly.
“Figures,” she muttered plopping her head back down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You could have at least bid her good night,” Snape said quietly as he strode towards the Slytherin dungeons.
“It’s not a good night,” Draco replied coldly.
“Perhaps not, but that doesn’t give you cause to make it worse for her.”
Draco scowled. “You show her a grisly image of my death and you think my not saying ‘good night’ is going to be the worst thing of the night for her?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. Let her suffer then. Serves her right for betraying me like that with Potter,” he snarled. Snape stopped and quick as lightning cast a silencing spell before grabbing Draco by his collar. He slammed him up against the stone wall of the hall and sneered in his face.
“Stop this. Do you have any idea how fucking lucky you are?” Snape spat. “Do you realize how rare it is to find a Gryffindor that actually forgives? I insulted Lily one time. ONE TIME and she left me. You’ve been a disgusting little shite to Hermione for years and she still runs into your arms. And you have the gall to say you hope she suffers for something she did with Potter twenty years ago!?” Snape shook Draco with every word he spoke.
Draco trembled as Snape yelled at him. He’d never seen someone so mad in his entire life. Snape’s fury was truly frightening, but Draco was too stubborn to back down.
“She didn’t just spy on me with him…she fucked him, Severus! She fucked Potter. And now I’m being forced by that doddering old fool to go make nice with him! Then in the meantime I must slither down into the dungeons alone while she’s up in a tower with him!”
“So you thought you’d ignore her and give her a reason to run to him?”
Draco looked away as he felt tears threaten to fall. “What would you know?” he asked, grasping at straws.
Snape’s voice lowered a whole register. “What would I know about loving a Gryffindor that has been with a Potter? What would I know!?” He released his grip on Draco’s shirt with a final shove. “I know that if you don’t knock this the fuck off you’re going to get her killed.” Snape raised his hand up next to Draco’s face and snapped his fingers.
“Don’t,” Draco cringed as the image forced its way into his head. He cursed ever agreeing to let Severus hypnotize him to accept the images despite his Occlumency whenever he snapped.
Snape didn’t relent.
*SNAP* Hermione was hanging from a tree.
*SNAP* Greyback was tearing out her throat.
*SNAP* She was naked, bloodied and brutalized on the floor.
“Stop, st…stop,” Draco now sobbed against the wall. Snape lowered his hand and looked unsympathetically at him.
“Remember how you feel right now, the next time you want to know ‘what I know.’ My image is real…and my image will never go away,” Snape choked as a single tear escaped his eye. He turned dramatically in a whirl of black robes and stalked away, leaving Draco in the dark, deserted hallway.
Draco’s legs gave out and he sunk to the floor against the wall. He sniffled miserably for a few moments as he waited for the intensity of the horrible images to fade. With a shaky hand he pulled his mirror from his pocket.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered pitifully to the black picture before slowly standing and walking the rest of the way to his dorm alone.
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Songs of Regret