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Lessons and Obsessions	By : LennaNightrunner Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 85098 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: DISSOLUTION

It was so unlike Hermione to have skived off lessons that
when Ginny had heard as much in the Common Room she had immediately gone
looking for her. She found her in the seventh-year girls� dormitory sitting on
her four-poster and sorting a stack of books. There was a small beaded bag next
to her on the bed.

�I hear you�re leaving soon. Harry won�t let me go, of
course,� Ginny said in a tone that was half-annoyed, half-affectionate.

A nod was Hermione�s only confirmation as she packed a few
changes of clothing into the beaded bag.

Ginny sat down next to Hermione and put a hand on her
shoulder. �Are you all right?�

Hermione stopped packing the bag, but did not look up at her
friend when she spoke. �I�ve told Malfoy we�re
going.�

Ginny�s eyebrows knitted in concern. �What did he say?�

�Nothing helpful, of course,� Hermione said bitterly. �I was
stupid enough to tell him I loved him.�

Her hand gripped her friend�s shoulder as Ginny digested
this news. She couldn�t imagine making such a confession to Draco Malfoy. It had taken her long enough to work up the nerve
to say it to Harry, and she had had no fear that Harry wouldn�t reciprocate.

�What did he say?�

�He said that women are fickle,� Hermione replied with a
snort of disgust. �And then he told me that going to Azkaban would be like
going on holiday.�

Ginny sighed and looked away. What could she possibly say to
console Hermione? She had always thought that this relationship was certain to
end badly, but she also knew her friend well enough to know that Hermione was too loving a person not to be devastated.

�Is there anything I can do?� she asked tentatively after a
moment.

Hermione shook her head helplessly and looked around the
room for anything else she might need to bring with them.

�I�m going to miss you,� Ginny said quietly, and Hermione
looked up.

�Oh, Ginny, I�m going to miss you, too,� she said, and gave
Ginny a tight hug.

When she pulled away from the hug, Ginny smiled at her
friend and gripped her shoulder again. �Be safe.�

�We�ll try our best,� Hermione said with a sad smile. And before
Ginny turned to leave, she was back to packing books and clothing into the
beaded bag.

*****

A week later Ron and Hermione left Hogwarts with no
certainty that they would ever return. They set out through the passage beneath
the statue of the One-Eyed Witch and were out of Honeyduke�s
before the owners awoke. Even Ron didn�t look twice at the sweets this time,
and they apparated from Hogsmeade
to the forest where the Quidditch World Cup had been
held. They would meet up with Harry and go on together from there.

It was dawn when they arrived at the meeting place, and the
grass was wet with dew. Hermione�s head was abuzz with the effort of imagining
every possible danger that might lie ahead. Everything fell suddenly into
focus, however, when Harry emerged from the trees.

Seeing him again was shockingly surreal. It had been a year
since he�d left. How could it have been that long? His hair was messier than
usual, and his clothing was stained with dirt that he hadn�t bothered to
remove. He looked as if he had aged half a decade. It hadn�t dawned on her
until that moment that he was no longer a boy. None of them were children
anymore.

But his face lit up when he caught sight of them and he was
the same old Harry again, her Harry, whom she had missed more terribly than she
had realized. They ran to greet each other and Hermione reached Harry first. He
wrapped her in a tight hug and she was crying before she even understood why.
Her joy at seeing him again, her fear of what they faced, and the despair that
she had been forcing down since she had seen Draco for the last time were
rushing through her all at once and it was all she could to do keep standing.

Harry mumbled soothing words into her hair as her tears fell
against his shirt. A moment later Ron caught up with them and embraced them
both, one arm slung over Harry�s shoulder, the other
around Hermione�s waist. It seemed years since they had all been together, and
Hermione knew even as she cried so hard that it was difficult to breathe that
everything would be all right as long as she had her two best friends.

*****

It was a miracle that Draco finished out the final month of
school. The only reason he had stayed was because he had nowhere else to go.
Apparently he had managed to learn enough before she�d left to get him through
his end of term exams.

It was easy not to feel sadness or regret when one was so
full of fear and rage. The nightmares continued relentlessly, and now there was
no comforting bed to go to. There were times when he was at his most pathetic
that he wondered if he could sneak into her empty room to see if he could get a
better night�s sleep there. But he wouldn�t allow himself to sink that low.

He might�ve been more worried about her if he hadn�t been so
worried about himself. She had Potter, Weasley, and
the Order of the Phoenix to protect her. He had no one. He was too afraid to
write to his mother, and too proud to write to his father. If they were still
followers of the Dark Lord, and he was certain they were, then writing a letter
would be as good as signing his own death warrant.

He finalized his plans before their exam results were in. He
wouldn�t take the Hogwarts Express back to King�s Cross. If anyone wanted to
find him, that would be the logical place to try. He�d go to Hogsmeade Station with the other students and then apparate with his trunk. He had money and he had the skills
that had made him a Slytherin. He�d go into the muggle world if he had to. He could leave the country if
necessary. The Death Eaters would kill him if they found him, and the Order of
the Phoenix wouldn�t protect him again after what had happened when his father
had escaped from Azkaban.

He did not go to the end of term feast. He stayed in the
dormitory and finished packing his things. He had been putting it off and was
now the last of his housemates to pack. He finally opened his trunk and began
sifting through the detritus that had accumulated during the year: dirty
clothing, broken quills, spare parchment, and� a red and gold tie.

For a moment he had no idea how it had gotten there. Then it
came back to him all at once. She had come to the Room of Requirement to be
alone. She was crying. Weasley had told her he wanted
her. Draco, in a bought of insanity, had tried his hand at
selflessness and told her to go to him. She had seduced Draco. She
wanted him to punish her for hurting her friend. But she had chosen him. She
had chosen him over Weasley, and that fact had allowed him to become devoted to
her in ways that he had never thought possible.

And in her state of emotional turmoil she had forgotten her
tie.

He had meant to give it back to her. Now he never could.
Just holding it made him furious. He stormed over to the fireplace and was a
moment away from throwing it in before he changed his mind. The scrap of cloth
was the closest thing he had to proof. Proof that he had been
there first. She would go off and save wizardkind,
and in the process she and Weasley would certainly
reconcile. They�d get married and have a dozen children with bushy ginger hair and
Draco would become nothing more than an unpleasant memory.

His only consolation would be knowing
that she had given everything to him before she had even allowed Weasley to touch her. That he, Draco Malfoy,
had been her first choice. And he�d have the tie to remind him of that. He
wasn�t going to wait for her. He wasn�t going to pine after her. But he wasn�t
going to give her the satisfaction of pretending that it had never happened.

*****

Narcissa Malfoy
waited on Platform 9� until the very last student on the Hogwarts Express had
left with his family. Then she waited an hour longer.

She sensed her husband�s presence before his gloved hand
rested on her shoulder. She did not move. Her eyes stared blankly out at the
empty space where the train had been.

�He�s not here.�

The pain in his wife�s voice pulled Lucius�
features into an involuntary flinch.

�Come home, darling,� he said in a gentle voice.

Narcissa shook her head, her eyes
still firmly fixed on the steel tracks.

�We should get back,� he insisted more urgently.

Her eyes fell to the platform floor in front of her feet.
�No.�

�Narcissa��

She turned to face him and her eyes were angry. �You did
this, Lucius.�

He was taken aback. �I��

She continued without allowing him to interrupt. �You sent
him away, and we may never see him again!�

Lucius reached out to stroke his
wife�s cheek, but she batted his hand away in one swift motion.

He begged her to see reason. �Do you really think he would
be safe if he were home now? It�s bad enough that I failed to retrieve the
prophecy�that you took the protection of the Order of the Phoenix. What do you
think the Dark Lord does to a Death Eater who refuses to answer his summons?�

�We might have explained�� Narcissa
began weakly.

�We could say nothing now that would stay the Dark Lord�s
hand if Draco were to fall into his grasp,� Lucius
said firmly. �Be glad he hasn�t come home. He�s safer away from us now.�

Lucius reached out his hand again
and Narcissa allowed him to press it against her
cheek. The leather was smooth against her skin, but cold. She longed for the
warmth of his skin, but she would not seek affection from him in public. She
did not want to go back to a home where Death Eaters came and went as they
pleased, and the Dark Lord watched over all and they were least favored among
his followers.

�And if he�s with the Granger girl?� Narcissa
asked tentatively as her husband�s hand fell. �What then?�

�Then we shall see him soon enough.�

Narcissa was chilled by the note
of foreboding in her husband�s voice, but she nodded her understanding slowly.
He held his arm out as if they were at a ball and he was her escort. She rested
her hand on his forearm with the grace that age had only increased, and they apparated from the empty platform.

*****

Harry sat at the entrance to the tent and listened to the
rain pattering on the canvas roof of their temporary home. It was his turn to
keep watch. Every now and then he turned his head toward where his friends
slept soundly on a nearby bunk. They had shared one of the small beds for
nearly two weeks now. Every time he watched them sleep Ron�s arm was around Hermione�s
waist, as if he were afraid that if he didn�t hold onto her he�d lose her.

Ron and Hermione�s newfound closeness made Harry miss Ginny
even more terribly than he had when he was alone. He thought about what it
would be like to have her there with them now, curled up sleeping in his bunk,
keeping it warm until his watch was over. But at least he knew that she was
safe. She had made it home without incident and was now protected by the Order
of the Phoenix, at least for the summer. Who knew if Hogwarts would even be
open come September?

He was happy for his friends, though. He was glad that they
had each other. It had been a long time coming, and he had expected them to end
up together. Ron and Hermione had gone through a lot while Harry had been gone.
He had been worried that their friendship couldn�t survive it. Instead, it had
eventually brought them back together. Harry hoped that that was for the best.

Someone stirred behind him and Harry looked over at the
nearest bunk. Hermione opened her eyes and looked at him. Harry�s
shift was over. Hermione carefully extricated herself from Ron�s embrace and
stepped out of the bed. She shivered and pulled a nearby blanket around her,
then picked up her wand and moved to sit next to Harry.

�Your turn to sleep,� she said quietly as she laid a hand on
his shoulder.

�I�m not tired yet,� Harry said honestly and looked at her.
�Can I sit with you for a while?�

Hermione smiled a sleepy smile. �Of
course.�

She sat with her arms crossed and resting on her knees and
laid her head against his shoulder for support as she tried to shake off sleep.
Harry slung his arm around her shoulders and they sat in silence for a few
minutes, listening to the rain.

�Are you all right?� Harry finally asked, because he didn�t
know when he�d have another chance.

She didn�t answer immediately, but her hand fell between
them and he covered it with his.

�I�� She cleared her throat audibly. �I miss him.�

Harry knew how much it must have cost her to admit that. She
hadn�t mentioned Malfoy since Harry had revealed that
he knew about their relationship in his letter. He didn�t know what to say, so
he said nothing.

�I don�t know what�s happened to him,� she said with a hint
of fear in her voice. �He made it sound as if he�d be killed if he went back to
the Death Eaters.�

�Vol�You-Know-Who,� Harry corrected
himself irritably, remembering that the name was now cursed, �doesn�t take
kindly to deserters.�

Hermione made a pitiful sound against Harry�s
shoulder and he quickly tried to reassure her. �He�ll be all right, Hermione.
If there�s one thing Malfoy knows how to do well, it�s get himself out of a bind. I�m sure you�ll see him
again.�

She shook her head. �No.�

�Why not?�

�Whatever it was, it�s over.� Her expression was one of
resolve. �I�m�I�m with Ron now. I can�t ever see Dr�I can�t ever see him again.�

Harry was silent. He felt profoundly sad for his friend. It
was clear to him now that she had cared for Malfoy
far more than she would ever admit. But she was probably right: seeing him
again could only hurt her now. There was no chance of reconciliation there. Now
all they could hope for was that Hermione�s growing relationship with Ron would
ease the pain of what she�d lost.

There was nothing more Harry could say. He gave Hermione�s
shoulder a squeeze and stood. She smiled sadly up at him and then turned her
gaze toward the night, her wand grasped firmly in her hand.

It wasn�t until Harry pulled the blankets up over himself
that he discerned the soft sound of her crying, muffled by the falling rain.

*****

Draco shut his window against the sounds of an impromptu
concert being held in the town square that the row of small flats bordered. The
muffled chattering in country French could still be heard through the glass,
but it was a slight improvement. He would have much rather resided in Paris, but
he couldn�t be assured of his safety in a city where so many witches and
wizards�many of whom would recognize the Malfoy heir
on sight�resided.

He had contemplated living in a remote magical community that
would be the French counterpart of Hogsmeade or Godrick�s Hollow, but thought better of it in the end. Even
in the country he might be recognized. In the end he had decided that the only
way to ensure that he would not be found was to go to a muggle
village in the countryside. And after a few months it wasn�t so bad. He found
that he could get away with using simple spells within his flat. He was out of
the jurisdiction of the British Ministry of Magic, and the French ministry was
fairly lenient about regulating magic in such remote parts of the country.

Draco had emptied his personal vault at Gringotts
directly after apparating from the train so that his
purchases couldn�t be tracked. His supply of gold, now long converted into
francs, had lessened considerably, but he still had a few months before he would
need to think about stomaching the prospect of seeing employment in a muggle shop. In retrospect his decision to live in the
country was wise in another way: it was much cheaper than living in Paris.

His flat was stone and chilly at night even in the spring.
Draco pulled a jumper over his head�navy and white sailor-striped: the only
pattern that seemed to be available in the country�and sat down at his
caf�-sized dining table. The morning�s copy of the Daily Prophet lay next to an
empty whiskey glass. It cost extra to get the Prophet delivered outside of the
country, but it was a necessary expense. He needed to know what was happening
at home. Even now the chill of fear sat in the pit of his stomach as he read
until he was certain that the paper contained no news of her injury of death.
He hated that he still cared enough to worry.

He hadn�t allowed himself to read the front-page article
yet. He had been pacing through his flat all day with that sick feeling
knotting his insides and the glass of whiskey in his hand. But now he couldn�t
put it off any longer. He removed the cap from the half-empty bottle and filled
the glass again. He took a generous sip before he let his eyes take in the
words that had plagued him all day:

WAR ENDS: POTTER VICTORIOUS

Draco paused and took a deep breath before forcing himself
to delve into the article.

It was made known
early this morning that You-Know-Who�s reign of terror has been ended at last,
and that he has gone for good. Dozens were killed on both sides in the final
battle that took place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during the
better part of last night.

Those who witnessed
Harry Potter face the most powerful dark wizard of our times reported that it
was a sight to behold, and that it ended with a finality that left no doubt
that You-Know-Who would not be able to return as he did after he was thought to
be dead eighteen years ago. Potter himself assured the battle�s survivors of
this fact before Ministry Aurors escorted him and the
rest of the injured to St. Mungo�s Hospital for
Magical Maladies and Injuries just before dawn.

The list of casualties
has not been compiled yet, but our readers will be glad to know that Harry
Potter�s school friends Ronald Weasley and Hermione
Granger�

His heart lurched in his chest and hot relief rushed through
him, augmented by the slow burn of the whiskey.

�were
among the survivors. �It could
have been much worse,� Headmistress Minerva McGonagall told one of our
reporters, �but we are saddened by every loss, and it will take time for the wizarding community to recover from this tragedy.�

The mediwitch in charge of Potter�s care has declined to make a
statement on the status of his health so far other than to assure the public
that he is certain to fully recover in time.

Draco didn�t need to finish the article. From there it
looked as if it recapped the events of the war and speculated about the days to
come. He had learned what he wanted to know. He set the paper back on the
table. After draining his glass of whiskey, he sat down at his desk and picked
up a quill.

Dear Mother, he
began.

It was time to go home.

*****

A/N: Don�t just sit there; go on to the epilogue! :)
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Lessons and Obsessions