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Never Mine	By : RynStar15 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 21248 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter List
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The dark haired Ravenclaw skittered around the corner, running for help, and I closed my eyes to the anguish searing through my soul. Why was this so hard? Why did he have to be like this? Why did he have to be so stubborn? There had to be another way, anything else, but he wouldn't even try.
Why couldn't I be enough?
Harry had once told me to always do what is right, to follow your heart, even if it kills you. I lived by those words like a pledge and I sure as hell wasn't going to allow this blow to stop me now. But how could I possibly stand by those words now? How could I save the world and my heart when to save one would destroy the other?
…
Two months, three weeks and five days earlier…
I hadn't considered the impropriety of walking into an all but strange man's room in the middle of the night wearing nothing but a nightgown, but as I stared at the plain wood panel of Draco Malfoy's door, I sincerely began to doubt my impulsive decision. Tonks hadn't reacted when I'd passed her in the kitchen. She was on night watch and she'd done nothing more than raise her mug in greeting, her mousy hair falling over her shoulder as she gazed into her tea, deep in thought. I was more than a little relieved she didn't have a roving eye like Moody.
I debated about the knocking issue. What did it matter, really? He would probably just slam the door in my face the moment he realized who was behind it. I therefor decided to forgo etiquette and let myself inside.
The room was pitch black, the curtains drawn. Using the dim light from the hallway I started towards the bed in the left corner of the room, intending to see if he was awake. When the door snapped shut behind me I jumped and twisted around, but the darkness of the room swallowed my vision.
"Malfoy? It's me, Granger..."
He didn't speak, didn't make a single noise, so I started to reach for my wand to light it but a hand shot out of the black and grabbed my wrist, yanking me painfully back against a hard chest, my wand clattering to the floor in a yelp of pain. Fear snapped through me; not because I'd been so easily overpowered, but because Malfoy should have been in front of me, next to the door, not behind me.
"What are you doing here?" he snarled into my left ear, sending a delicious and wholly unwelcome shiver down my spine. He held my wand arm tightly above my head, forcing me back against his unyielding body to prevent my shoulder being from its socket, his other hand a vise around my upper arm.
"I came to see if you were awake," I answered lamely, cursing myself at how breathy I sounded. His lithe muscles thrummed with energy and I could feel the heat emanating into my own. It was quite unsettling, the reactions I had to him.
"I'm awake," he growled, his grip tightening ever so slightly, my body pressed firmly against his.
"I see." I told myself I wasn't afraid of him. In a battle, I could easily take him, I had easily taken him. In this position, however, he had the advantage. I was wandless and he was much larger than me, his hard muscles evidence to his strength. Would he really hurt me? The fact that I could not confidently answer that question made for no small amount of unease, but I refused to let him know.
"Mystery solved. Now, why don't you scurry on back to that little hole from whence you came and leave me the hell alone?"
"There's no reason to be angry, Malfoy," I said, attempting civility. "I only thought you might like some company."
"Are you truly so daft as to think I would want the company of a Mudblood?" he asked derisively.
"This Mudblood is the only person in this sodding world who is trying to help you, Malfoy! You should at least attempt to sound grateful!" I snapped, squirming in his hold in an attempt to extricate myself, but his hands only tightened.
"Grateful? For what, exactly? For not murdering me? For forcing me to spend hours in a Full-Body Bind on a dirty kitchen floor? For locking me up like a dirty rat? What exactly should I be grateful for, Granger?"
"Gee, Malfoy, I don't know, possibly for saving your life?"
He was quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room his shallow breaths floating against the shell of my ear.
"You can't save me, Granger."
The silence that followed these damning words was palpable. Icy fingers of trepidation clawed at the base of my skull. I clambered for something to say, but his cold voice shattered the intense moment.
"Now get the fuck out of my sight, Granger. If I ever see your dirty little face again I swear I will kill you where you stand!"
"No, you won't."
The grasp he had on my wrist tightened painfully and he yanked me about, slamming my chest into his. He towered over me, much taller than I had originally realized.
"What did you say?" His hot breath cascaded over my cheek, the sour smell of unwashed teeth filling my nostrils. I cocked my chin, refusing to be intimidated.
"You wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I?"
I felt the hot tip of my wand (wait, hadn't it been on the floor just a moment ago?) dig into the soft skin beneath my chin. It was too dark to see his face but I could feel the fury radiating off of him. For some insane reason, I did not worry. I didn't move to retaliate or even to protect myself, leaving my fate securely in his hands.
"No, you wouldn't. That's not what you want, that's not who you are. You don't want to hurt me any more than you want to be a Death Eater."
"Don't you dare presume to know what I want, Granger!" Malfoy roared, though I heard the quaver in his voice before he masked it with fury. "You don't know anything about me!"
"Maybe I don't, Malfoy," I challenged. "Or maybe I know a lot more than you think."
Without warning I was being shoved violently backwards until I crashed against the wall with a cry, Malfoy pressing himself roughly against me, yanking my hands above my head, easily overpowering my pathetic attempts to escape.
"You have no idea the things I've seen, the things I've done. I could render you so much pain you would do anything to make it stop." His face lowered to mine, our cheeks nearly touching as his lips came to my ear, his next word husky and full of dark promise. "Anything."
The tip of his nose caressed my jaw, his lips lightly brushing the sensitive skin of my neck making me shiver once more. My breath caught as he transferred both wrists into one hand, the other sliding languidly down my body, igniting it, his warm palm cupping my hip, clutching there. "Is that what you want?"
I couldn't think. My mind was whirling so fast it was impossible to cling onto one thought for more than a brief second. What did he think he was doing, pawing me like this? I bucked against him.
"Get your hands off me, Malfoy. You're despicable!"
"Is that what you really think?" he asked, his voice taking on a taunting manner and his hand moving further north up my side. I tried to wrench away but he held fast. We struggled for a moment and it was then that my heart started beating at an accelerated rate. When he suddenly tossed me roughly to the floor I scooted away, terrified, not only of him, but of my reaction to him. I jumped when something clattered to the floor next to me and I reached out, finding my wand lying inches from my hand. I grabbed it up and lit it to see Malfoy bearing down on me, his shadowed face a mask of hatred and fury.
"Get out of here, Granger, and don't come back. I don't want to see you ever again. Is that understood?"
"Why? Why are you pushing me away?" I ventured courageously. I cringed slightly when he dropped to his hands and knees over me, our noses nearly touching, his body trapping mine beneath it.
"Listen up, Mudblood, because I'm only going to say this once," he rumbled, mimicking my earlier words. "I didn't come here to be inducted into your little club so no, we are not going to be friends and no, I am not going to help you out, and fuck no am I ever, ever, going to allow these little midnight escapades to continue. Just leave. Me. Alone."
He stood quickly and walked back towards his bed and out of the little circle of light my wand cast. I sat up and wiped the dust off my palms before looking up in his general direction.
"So why did you come here, then?" I asked calmly, though I felt anything but.
"You know, Granger, I don't think that's really any of your business."
"I think it is. See, it is because of me that you are even here and with one word I can have you out on your arse. You're not exactly popular around here, I hardly think the decision would be met with much resistance. So, what's it going to be?"
"Honestly, Granger, I don't give a fuck what you do!" He strode forward just far enough so I could see his drawn features. He looked so much older than I remembered him. "Just get the fuck out."
I stood, pointing my wand into his face making him squint those smoldering eyes. "Make me."
His face contorted and he took two very swift steps until he had once again grabbed my arm and began dragging me towards the door. I twisted quickly in his gasp and pushed back, succeeding in making him stop.
"Do not manhandle me!" I snapped, slapping his arm. The light of my wand bounced around the room at my movements, creating eerie shadows that loomed from corners, though none were as menacing as the man before me. My words only seemed to incite him more and he gripped both of my shoulders, yanking me up so that only the tips of my big toes were on the floor and my face nearly collided with his. Stunned, my wand slipped once more to the floor and we were thrown into harsh contrast by the light from the ground. His features looked even more terrifying now.
"You think that's manhandling, Granger?" he sneered, his face twisting in demented glee. "I'll show you manhandling." He tossed me ruthlessly onto his bed and though I tried to fight him off, my efforts were less than useless. I knew I should be more worried, but something told me that I wasn't in any danger, although his actions might state otherwise.
His hands roamed my body roughly, grabbing, clasping, tearing. My body ignited under his touch and every nerve ending screamed to be touched just that way- again and again. It was the most erotic sensation I'd ever felt. I couldn't lift my boneless hands to stop him as confusion and shock and lust twisted my senses. Our panting breaths mingled and when he started tearing at my robes, I finally snapped out of the thrall he'd put me under and I smacked his hand away.
Then he slapped me hard, hard enough to yank me back to reality.
"You think that's manhandling? You know nothing, Mudblood! If it were any other Death Eater in this room you would have been on your back with your little cunt on display the second you walked in here!"
"But I didn't bring any other Death Eater here, did I?" I gasped, shoving at him, pushing him away from my treacherous body, kicking out at his chest and making him stumble back enough that I leapt to my feet. Malfoy went to grab for my wrists again to take control but I swung around his hands and shoved him again, his eyes darkening at my actions.
"You better watch yourself," he ground out.
"Or what?" I sneered condescendingly.
"Do you really think you want to find out, Granger?"
"What? Are you going to grab my breasts again? Go on, grab them! You think that scares me? You think you can intimidate me through sexual harassment? Thank again!" Then, for a reason outside my mental capacity, I hurled myself at him, jumped on him so suddenly it took us both to the ground with a loud bang and we wrestled for dominance which he won easily. I saw my glowing wand lying feet away as he pinned my wrists against the hard ground once again. His eyes bore down on me, so full of emotion it shocked me as nothing else from our encounter had.
"Why are you doing this?" he gasped, straddling my undulating hips as I tried to buck him off.
"Because, you arrogant prat, you think that you're the only one who's had it rough, the only one who knows what growing up in this war feels like, but you're not! You're no different from the rest of us other than the fact that you decided to join the other side! This is your last chance and if you're not careful, you're going to blow it, and then where would you be?"
"What the fuck do you care?"
"I care because I'm Hermione-bloody-Granger!" I screamed, accenting each word with another thrust to attempt to dislodge him, but to no avail. "Don't screw this up because you want to brood and be a testosterone driven arsehole! It's not worth it, Malfoy. Do you understand what would happen if you went back now?"
"Yes, I bloody well understand!"
"Then shape the fuck up before you screw up everything you've worked so hard for. You gave everything to be here, don't throw it away now!"
He rose swiftly at my words and lifted me by the front of my shirt, shoving me towards the door, his face hard, his jaw twitching.
"Get out."
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but he roared above me.
"GET OUT!"
I Summoned my wand from the floor and ran for the door, heeding him for once. I opened it and looked back, meeting his eye from where he stood fuming in the center of the room.
"You're not alone."
The look he gave me had me tearing down the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. I ran passed a questioning Tonks and straight into the fire. I didn't want the questions, the accusations. I only knew one place that would give me peace.
I went home.
…
When I woke, I reveled in the silence of the morning. The birds had flown south so their chirping did not disturb me; there were no sounds of Mrs. Weasley cooking, no snores from Ginny or Ron or even the soft breathing of my roommates. It was completely silent.
As soon as I realized this, I hated it.
It was the reason I chose not to sleep in the Head Dorm provided for me. The silence brought the nightmares to life. Even the quiet breathing or gentle rustle of blankets from my dorm mates was enough to yank me back to reality when my overly active mind tore through every brutal memory I owned. Now the empty room taunted me.
I sat up and drew back the curtains of my four-poster, grabbed my uniform from the trunk at the foot of my bed and hurried to the bathroom to shower. I refused to acknowledge the fact that there were now only two beds in the small room. I wondered, as the spray pounded down on me, when Lavender would return. Or if. Many students had left the school, unable to stand the absence of deceased companions or for the simple fact that their parents would not allow them to return. It seemed nearly every week another child was dragged from the Great Hall by an enraged parent. Last week it had been Seamus. Dean was quiet now.
When I'd finished readying for the day, I made my way down to the Great Hall where the small amount of people already up stared at me but said nothing. They would have all heard of the battle by now and of Parvati and Ernie and, yes, there their portraits hung next to other fallen comrades behind the teachers. Colin Creevey, Morag McDougal, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, Millicent Bulstrode, Harold Dingle and Stephen Fawcett. All had fallen in the last three months. Their pictures, smiling and happy, hung heavy as the black drapes behind them on my heart. I averted my eyes and smiled meekly at the few companions at the Gryffindor table. I had just begun to pick at my breakfast when the doors to the Great Hall burst open drawing every gaze in the room to the two men who had made such a commotion. Two pairs of eyes targeted my table and finally fell upon me. Two terrified faces melted to relief as Harry and Ron hurried forward to lean menacingly over the table in front of me.
"Where have you been?" Ron snapped, his full weight on the table as if to get a better look at me.
"Here, obviously," I answered, snatching a blueberry smoothly off my fork with my front teeth. "Why don't you two sit down and eat some breakfast?"
They sat begrudgingly and I offered them a tray of biscuits. Harry took one and set it on the gold plate in front of him while Ron took three and immediately reached for the marmalade, ignoring the fact that he had to practically lay in a first year's lap to get at it.
"Hermione, you shouldn't have left without telling anyone. We were all worried sick," Harry said, trying to catch my eye, but I refused to meet it. I knew I shouldn't have disappeared without telling anyone at the Weasley's, but after my interaction with Draco I had felt so raw that I couldn't stomach returning.
"I didn't mean to alarm anyone."
"Why would you leave in the middle of the night like that?" Harry drilled, his face full of hurt and confusion.
"I couldn't sleep," I stated simply.
"And you couldn't come to me and Ron?"
"Yeah," Ron said, stuffing four slices of bacon into his mouth at once. "Thince wen arwee no' goonuff 'oo elp yoo backoo eep?"
"Why don't you swallow that half-masticated swine and speak like the evolved being you are supposed to be?" I snapped disgustedly, dipping my knife into the butter dish in front of me before handing it to Dennis with a smile and smearing it on my toast.
"Since when are we not good enough to help you back to sleep?" Ron said around a much smaller bite. I supposed if I could understand him and not see his food, it was good enough. "I mean, it's not like you've never had trouble sleeping before. You always come to us."
"Well, last night I didn't want company," I explained rather lamely. It was partly true. After my little rendezvous with Malfoy all I had wanted was a little peace and quiet. I had gotten it in my Gryffindor sanctuary.
"Then what were you doing with Malfoy last night?"
I paled and looked up into Harry's accusing stare. I sighed. "Curiosity. I thought I might be able to bring him around, you know? There has to be a reason he joined our side."
"Hermione, you had a wand to his throat. I don't think there is much he wouldn't agree to in that situation," Harry said exasperatedly.
"It's true. You can get pretty scary," Ron agreed.
I was about to say something but Harry cut me off before the words got to my mouth. "Hermione, you're trying to find something good where there is none. I love that about you, that you can see the good in everything. But there is none in Malfoy. He's a bad egg, inside and out. It doesn't matter anymore that his parents brought him up that way. He is a grown man capable of making his own decisions. He made the wrong ones. Now, he has to face the consequences."
"And what makes him any better than any other Death Eater out there? I don't see you bringing home every one you encounter on the field," Ron accused before shoving an entire pancake into the black hole of his face. I gently laid down my fork, folded my hands and looked up at them.
"Because I know he can be better than that."
They both sneered and I continued eating. "Now, if you please, I'd like to change the subject."
It was silent for a moment while Ron slathered ketchup on hash browns and Harry drummed his fingers on the wooden table. Finally, he spoke up.
"Hermione, are you alright?"
I looked up into their concerned faces and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
"Tonks said you saw Ernie go down. And we know you spoke to the Patils."
I clenched my jaw and suddenly the food before me made me want to gag. I had to swallow several times before I could trust my voice.
"Hermione?"
"It's nothing new. Don't treat this like it's anything different."
"Why would you talk to the Patils yourself? You know we're not supposed to-"
"I just felt like I owed it to them, alright? I've only lived in the same dorm with her for nearly seven years. It was the least I could do for them."
I set down my fork gently and willed my stomach to calm. I remembered her stony face, pale against the dewy grass. I remembered the horror in Ernie's eyes as he realized a split-second before the spell hit him that he was going to die. I thought of what I would think in that last moment, knowing that the inevitable was going to take me in its grasp.
"I'll see you in Charms," I said and grabbed my book bag. I swung the heavy satchel onto my left shoulder and hurried out of the Great Hall without glancing back at Harry or Ron. I had to tell myself several times to slow down, to not look so horrified. I had to force my lips into a tight semi-smile as I remembered the Head Girl badge gleaming above my right breast. I had to show a good example. If I worried, then the younger ones would as well. I was supposed to keep up morale, pretend that nothing was happening. So what if the Head Girl and The Chosen One and the Gryffindor Keeper disappeared for a few days every couple of weeks? What did it matter when everything here was safe and warm and pleasant? It was the only sanctuary these kids had and I'd be damned if I ruined it for them.
So, instead of going straight to the library, I slipped into the prefect's bathroom which was blessedly empty. After placing locking and silencing charms on the door, I dropped my bag and fell to my knees on the cold tile. I hugged myself and rocked, my breath coming in pants. I felt the tears that wanted to fall but I knew they wouldn't. It's not that I didn't have reason or a want to, it's that I simply couldn't. I'd tried, really, I had. But it never worked. Once the Battle of Hogwarts had ceased and Dumbledore's funeral was over, I found that there was nothing worth crying about anymore. This war was here, it was real, and it would take us all if we couldn't keep our feet on the ground. So, although I was scared nearly every second of every day and death was a constant worry in my mind, although I'd had to make some of the hardest decisions of my life and changed in ways I could never comprehend, I knew that someday, from our sacrifice, I would be able to cry again like that hurt little girl had when she'd seen Ron kiss Lavender for the first time.
I sat for a few more minutes and worked on my breathing which Mrs. Weasley had been stressing for Fleur. I found it really helped sometimes. Once I had my act together again, my frayed nerves patched, I splashed cold water on my face, sneered at the giggling mermaid in a portrait over the massive tub, and made my way to the library. I only had ten minutes before class started, but I knew the boys would be there to collect me. I hurriedly threw some papers about on a table and shoved my nose into an Ancient Runes book seconds before I heard their low tones. I didn't look up until Harry lowered my book.
"C'mon," he crooned, taking the book from me, marking my spot and shutting it. "We're going to be late. Don't need Flitwick deducting points."
I nodded and we made our way to the tiny professor's classroom. We arrived just in time to hand in our papers and settle down before the bell struck.
My hand wrote the notes, but my mind wandered as it was prone to do these days. When the lecture finished, we practiced producing wine, my eyes rolling at the few students who snuck sips, my hand coming up to knock the goblet out of Ron's hand when he tried as well making Harry roar with laughter.
When the class ended, we went to Transfiguration where McGonagall droned on about the importance of remembering tails when transfiguring animals. Then we practiced that. Then we had a break in which we started on McGonagall's essay about transfiguring moving objects. Then we went to lunch. Then I went alone to Ancient Runes where we translated an ancient Arabic text and met the boys for a quick study break before dinner. Then I studied while they went to Quidditch practice and I dried their robes when they came in wet. Then we worked some more on McGonagall's essay until I tired of their complaining and went to bed where I tossed and turned for hours before giving up and drinking a Sleeping Draught I'd mixed in the prefect bathroom two weeks ago.
And so it went for the next week. Just like the others. The classes changed, the lessons progressed, but I hardly noticed. I lived for the moment the owls would swoop in in the mornings and I could skim the Daily Prophet for news. I had started to take the Evening Prophet as well so I would wait anxiously for that every night. Any note we received made our hearts drop until we could see Mrs. Weasley's loopy writing or Hagrid's choppy scrawl. We knew if we saw Lupin's neat and precise letters that something was wrong.
And every day we waited. And every day it didn't come was another weight added to our shoulder. It was only a matter of time.
The weekend approached slowly. When the fumes from the Numbing Draughts subsided and the last stragglers ambled out of the potions classroom on Friday afternoon, I took a deep breath and bathed in the relief that I had a whole weekend to catch up on sleep and homework.
"You coming?" I heard Ron call from the doorway. Harry was out in the hallway already, looking back at me. I nodded and grabbed my textbook off the scarred table before following the two down the cold corridor.
"You think they'd put up some Warming Charms or something," Ron complained. There was a smear of soot on his cheek from when he'd accidently exploded his potion by putting in the Puffer quills too early. I licked my thumb and reached up to wipe it off. His cheek turned pink where I'd rubbed and soon his ears followed suit.
"Thanks," he mumbled. Harry gave me an odd look but I just shrugged. It was only a bit of dirt, after all.
"Hermione, you've been awful quiet this week," Harry said as he ladled gravy onto his potatoes five minutes later.
"I've been busy," I replied somewhat truthfully.
"Hermione, I think we know you a little better than that," Harry said, a small frown on the corner of his lips. I should have known they would notice my odd behavior, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't concentrate on my work, I didn't have the energy or the will to play chess with them in the evening or talk about mundane things such as Professor Slughorn's next club meeting. All I could think about was the war, what was happening, who was dying and why I was stuck in this school where I was of no help to anyone. I truly did believe that the more I learned, the more useful I could be, but it just seemed so meaningless to go through the motions day after day.
And Malfoy. He'd been on my mind far more than was tolerable. What was he doing? Was he alright? Was he alive? We he being treated well? Was he scared? Was he ill? Certainly when I'd seen him on the field, past all the injuries, he'd looked horrid. Pale, gaunt, tormented. The hard muscles that had rippled against my back the night I snuck into his room told me he had probably been training hard. And I could only imagine what for.
I realized the boys were staring at me, waiting for an answer, waiting for me break down, to finally snap about what had happened all those months ago, the thing we never spoke of, the one thing I refused to acknowledge. I scrambled for anything to tear our minds away.
"I'm just preoccupied. N.E.W.T.s will be here before you know it and-"
"Hermione, they're ages away!" Ron cried, for once with an empty mouth. "It's not even December yet!"
"It will be soon enough! And then after break we will be on the near-side of the end of term and we won't have properly studied and then they'll be handing out the exams and then where will we be?" Why did they never worry about these things? They were very important! Even if I was just using this as an excuse not to talk about my mental wanderings, I was still very passionate about my academics. They were the key to our future, after all!
"You worry too much," Ron snorted with an eye roll, forking a boiled potato and eating half of it in one go. I turned away, disgusted.
"Ron, mate, we need to get going. I scheduled and early practice tonight, remember?" Harry reminded a few tense minutes later, wiping his hands on his napkin.
Ron grumbled. "If Romilda could make a goal once in a while we wouldn't need to have an extra-long practice every week."
"She's gotten loads better," Harry defended as the two of them stood. They started out before Harry stopped and turned to me.
"Go get some rest, will you? You have all weekend to do your homework." The look in his eye had me smiling.
"Alright. I could use the extra sleep. You two have a good practice, try to keep warm. And Ron, lay off Romilda. I know last year was embarrassing for you but it's no reason to spurn her for it."
Ron turned beet red and Harry grinned at me. I subdued my laughter and watched their crimson robes sweep out of view. Once I was sure they had left the building, I grabbed my things and ran up to Professor McGonagall's office with no intention whatsoever of keeping my word to Harry. I whispered the password "Lemon Drops" in honor of the former headmaster and scurried up the steps. I knocked quietly and was greeted by the stern face of my mentor.
"Miss Granger? Is something the matter?"
"No, nothing, professor, I just wanted to use the fireplace, if I may."
"What in the world for?" she asked, stepping aside to let me into the warm office.
"I-er…left a book at headquarters and was hoping to retrieve it," I lied lamely, not even sure why I felt the need for the ridiculous falsehood.
"And you couldn't ask Remus or Molly to send it to you?" she inquired, a thin eyebrow rising as she pursed her lips.
"Oh, alright," I sighed. The woman never did believe any of my ridiculous fibs. "I was hoping I could talk to Mal-er-Draco."
She stared at me a long moment and it looked as if she were chewing her tongue. "Mr. Malfoy has not as yet been cooperative. It might be in his best interest if you were to persuade him otherwise."
I nodded understandingly and at the wave of her hand, threw the green powder that was situated in an ornate box on top of the mantle into the flames. I stepped in and endured the spinning to land in the kitchen of headquarters. Brushing off soot, I looked up to see Lupin and Kingsley in much the same fashion as I had found Dung and Moody, though less inebriated and less, well, moody.
"Hermione, what are you doing here?" Lupin questioned concernedly, rising to his feet, his chair legs scratching against the ground. "Is everything alright? Is Harry-?"
"Harry is just fine. Off to Quidditch practice," I answered with a bolstering smile. Poor Lupin worried over his godson far too much. He had taken Sirius' request to heart.
"Then why-?"
"I, er, came to see Draco."
Kingsley leaned back in his chair but his calm expression never changed but for a slight rise of the eyebrows. Lupin, however, did not hide his shock.
"Hermione, are you sure? Tonks told me when you were here last time the two of you fought and you ran out rather quickly…"
"We had a small row, I'll admit," I understated, barely suppressing my wince at the memory. "But I believe I can be of help to him. Remus, you of all people know what it's like to be judged by those who have branded you. He just needs some understanding."
Whatever argument he'd been about to broach wilted away beneath my words. His face softened. "You always were able to see into the true heart of people. If you see something in him, then something there must be." He sighed defeatedly. "Alright, go on. But if I don't hear from you in twenty minutes I'm coming up. If he hurts you-"
"He won't. I'll see you in twenty, then." I nodded to Kingsley, who had silently watched the exchange with a bemused expression on his dark face, and started up the stairs. I stood outside Draco's door and recalled being in a similar situation not a week ago. Wondering if I was finally truly and completely mental, I took a deep breath and knocked.
…
XOXO
RynStar15
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Never Mine