Draco/Hermione fic: A Reason chapters 19&20
A Reason update
Chapters 19&20
Title: Harry Potter, I Love You
Author: Hafthand
Rating: PG-13 (I will be changing this rating to R or M whatever the new rating is. Just a warning)
A/N: First off, I want to thank Lorett first and foremost. She kindly betaed this chapter for me. I had a lot of trouble with the grief bits and she kindly stepped in and added her life experience to my humble words. A BIG THANK YOU to her. She is a doll, a star!
Also I must thank Mrs. Accio-Firebolt and Bloodrust for their kind e-mails and prodding to get this chapter written. Thank you ladies, without you this would have taken even longer.
Now I apologize for how long it took to get this chapter out. I do so hope it was worth the wait! Nothing major happens in this chapter, but the necessary continuation.
I suggest re-reading the last chapter or two since it has been so long!
RECAP: Ron dead, all grieving, Draco running from Hermione yet again, and Fred pulling Draco aside to speak privately!
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“Harry Potter, I love you!” came the proud pronouncement, his voice ringing out through the musty, smoke-filled pub.
Silence froze the pub. Not one person moved for a full five seconds after his announcement. Then suddenly, a great cheer shook the timbers of the pub as the two embraced each other as brothers.
“Alcohol truly is a gift from the gods,” Fred Weasley slurred to his companions as he watched Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, former enemies, holding each other tightly as tears streamed down their faces across the pub.
“Wish Ron could have seen this,” slurred an equally tearful Ginny Weasley from her seat on Remus Lupin’s lap.
“I have no doubt he would be weeping with joy,” Remus choked out, burying his head and his tears in Ginny’s wondrous hair.
Fred turned his heavy head to stare at his weeping sister and pained friend. Ginny’s glass was clutched loosely in her tiny hand, her eyes riveted to the scene in the front of the pub. Remus sat, his head hidden, his hands wrapped tightly around the oblivious redhead. At the mention of his brother’s name, he had momentarily felt as though he should have been feeling some sort of emotion other than blissful drunkenness, but it was fleeting and he focused on what was in front of him.
“Hey Ginny? Why you sittin’ on Senor Werewolf’s lap?” Fred asked quizzically, his face screwed up in concentration.
She turned and regarded him for the briefest of moments. Had Fred not consumed enough alcohol to kill an elephant, he would have noticed the momentary clearing in his baby sister’s eyes. The fleeting soberness; the cold pain of reality. But Fred did not see this. Ginny turned her eyes to the man whose lap she sat in and smiled slightly before she opened her mouth. “Why Draco and Potter hugging?” she asked her older brother.
Fred paused and turned his head towards the two wizards. His eyes grew small as he searched his befuddled mind for the events that had led up to this moment. “Yeah, why are they huggin?” Fred asked aloud, as his mind stretched.
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Flashback
Empty. Hollow. That is how he felt.
That is how he would always feel from now on. He didn’t see how he could ever feel any differently ever again; it just wasn’t possible. The pain had burned so strong that his body was now numb. He was oblivious to anything. The air was palpable with grief, you could feel it with every breath, in and out…anguish, sorrow, emptiness, death. Nothing would be the same. Everything had changed.
Fred stood staring at the dripping wet figure of Draco Malfoy before him. He didn’t know why he wished to speak with Malfoy privately except for the fact that it took him away from the kitchen.
The kitchen. His little brother’s current resting place. Ron. Blood. Pain. Blood. Loss. Body. Hurt. Tears. Weeping.
“STOP!” Fred finally screamed out loud.
He saw Malfoy step back at his outburst, his eyes darting uncertainly towards the doorway before falling back to him. Malfoy’s eyes locked guardedly on Fred’s and he settled into a silent stance.
Fred was grateful for his silence. He couldn’t take words right now. There had been too many already. He couldn’t bear any more.
“The advantage of having a large family is that you are never alone; you are always loved. There is always someone there for you,” Fred found himself saying. He didn’t remember deciding to speak and his words surprised him. From the raised eyebrow on his companions face, Fred has surprised him as well. But he had started and he wasn’t about to stop now. Something in Malfoy’s eye beckoned him to continue.
“Disadvantage to having a large family, when someone dies, the pain is multiplied by ten. Too many people saying ‘sorry’; too many people crying. You’d think with such a large family the loss of one could be hidden in the masses,” Fred spit out, his voice distant and hard. A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls
He allowed his eyes to travel down Malfoy’s lean body, until they rested on his hand where the dagger sat. He couldn’t steal his cold gaze from it; it glinted and shimmered in the firelight, mocking him in its easy, lethal grace. He snorted; it was so very, very simple looking. Yes, simple in its elegance, and elegant in its simplicity. Such a pretty thing.
Malfoy noticed Fred’s gaze and slowly raised the dagger between them. “Where did you get it?” Fred asked, his voice steel.
Draco squinted his eyes slightly and tore them away from the silver light playing on the edge of the dagger and brought them up to meet Fred’s once more. “I was just about to ask you the same thing Weasley,” Draco said, his voice also distant and hard.
Fred stood very still for a moment. When it was clear he would not speak until Draco had answered his question, Draco’s eyes grew very dark and he said one word. “Hermione.”
Ah yes, the root of it all. Hermione Granger. Suddenly Fred laughed out loud. One short, loud burst of laughter that felt as though it was being torn from his very body. He shook from the strain of releasing it and bit down hard on his cheek feeling as though his laugh had burned a path of fire from his stomach upwards and out through his throat. He felt sick.
He glanced at Malfoy and noticed the curious stare. “I’m not crazy Malfoy. Not yet anyway,” Fred muttered. “I realized something just now. You,” he said pointing his bloody finger at Draco to make his point, “and me are not so different.” He let the words drift slowly between them awaiting Malfoy’s response. A moment later he was rewarded with a simple grunt of acceptance from the wet ferret. A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls.
Fred sighed loudly and ran his bloody hands through his tousled red hair. He suddenly felt old, so very old. He turned and walked across the comfortable room to his father’s small collection of alcoholic beverages. Finding the Fire Whiskey, he turned to Malfoy and held up the bottle in question. Draco nodded and walked slowly towards him.
Fred filled two glasses, tipped back his head and let the drink burn it’s way down the path his laughter had created. He picked up Malfoy’s glass and glanced at it before pouring that down his throat as well. Fred didn’t even wince at the taste; he’d long since gone numb. He filled the glasses again and this time turned and gave Malfoy his share.
They raised their glasses to each other in mock toast and downed their poison. Fred noticed Draco still held onto the dagger.
“What will you do with it?” Fred asked while refilling their glasses. Soon they would empty the bottle.
Draco tipped his head back to receive the second drink before handing the glass back to Fred for more. He raised his blood-covered hand and stared at the offending object. “It was only ever meant to kill one person,” he heard Malfoy whisper.
“Yeah well, it never tasted her blood. Apparently it was meant for blood…a bit more pure,” Fred spit out, his words coming out harsh and pain filled.
He had by now finished the bottle of Fire Whiskey and was refilling their glasses with some Scotch. He expected Draco to continue talking, but was happy he didn’t. He watched over the rim of his glass as Draco hid the dagger inside his tattered robes. A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls.
“I fear there may not be enough alcohol in this house to suit our needs,” Fred spoke softly, suddenly breaking the silence, his mouth fixed in a smile that would never again reach his dead eyes. He was pleased to see the same look mirrored on Draco’s face.
“I think you are right Mr. Weasley. Perhaps we should find our succor elsewhere?” Draco asked, his voice laced with all the respect and superiority he had been bred into. Fred smiled again and patted Malfoy on the back.
“You read my mind,” Fred said. The need to escape this prison was too great. He needed out. Draco simply accepted Fred’s words and he was thankful the wizard never suggested he stay with his grieving family. Oh yes, it did appear that Fred and he were more alike than he would have ever believed. Death had always lurked in Draco’s eyes, now it took up residence in Fred’s.
Fred knew most of Draco’s secrets after their little chat back at the Manor. Now Draco was living Fred’s. Fred’s eyes flicked to the finished bottle of Scotch. He wanted to get out of here NOW. He wanted to be anyplace but here. Here, where reality was simply too much to bear. He wanted to be somewhere where no one knew him. Somewhere, where a person could look at him and not guess that grief was battling to conquer his soul. Somewhere, where he could pretend for just a few brief moments that his life was normal again. That he was still normal, that he still had his whole family with him. Somewhere, where no one would be able to see that he was threatening to die from the weight of guilt and horror that was slowly chocking the life from him with each breath he took…His breath that he would gladly trade for his brother’s. Breath that SHOULD have been his brother’s…He groaned, Fred needed to get out of here…A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls.
A shuffling behind them made the two young wizards turn sharply towards the doorway. They had been so wrapped up in themselves and their conversation that they had failed to notice some changes that had occurred in the room. As Fred’s lifeless gaze traveled the room, he wondered just how long the others had been there.
Remus Lupin was sitting on the floor against the wall, staring at the two with a far away, detached look. Ginny lay on the couch, her dress messed and flowing lazily around her. Her eyes were attached to the ceiling, but Fred knew his sister and he knew she had been listening. It appeared that it had been Harry Potter himself that had caused the slight rustling by the doorway. Fred thought he had never seen Harry so defeated, so small. Fred was relieved upon scanning the room to see George was not there. He couldn’t see George yet, then it would be REAL and Fred wasn’t ready for reality just yet….
Fred wondered at their presence. How long had they been in the room? Had they been listening or had they been too wrapped up in their own grief, their own pain. He sensed rather than saw Malfoy stiffen beside him at the sight of the others, his hand gripping the empty glass before him.
“Well?” Remus asked, suddenly breaking the stalemate. “Which pub?”
Fred felt the tension in him start to dissipate. Whether it was from Remus’s unexpected but welcome words, or from the consumption of so much alcohol he didn’t know or care. Fred sensed Draco relax next to him as well.
“I was thinking The Hag’s Bluff,” came Ginny’s defeated voice from the couch.
“Nah, too many wizards. I say we go to a muggle pub. Less questions,” Harry said, before he walked across the room and offered Ginny a hand up. She gracefully accepted and proceeded to smooth her green dress as her eyes darted towards Remus. The werewolf raised himself from the floor and approached the other two.
“Harry has a point. The alcohol is weaker, but considering our company,” and Remus pointedly looked at Malfoy and Harry before continuing, “I think a muggle pub is our best bet. Any suggestions?”
Ginny shrugged and Harry just stood there. ‘God how fast people change in the matter of hours. How the mighty are falling,’ Fred thought to himself. He felt Draco move beside him as the Slytherin placed his glass back on the shelf before turning to look at the group once more.
“I know a place,” Malfoy said, his voice soft, remote.
“Good. Let’s go before any one notices,” Harry growled, his eyes darting uncertainly towards the kitchen door.
“Should we get Hermione or George?” Ginny asked, though her tone indicated she didn’t care either way.
“NO!” Draco and Fred said forcefully and coldly at the same time. Fred glanced at Draco and wondered what had transpired to cause such an answer.
“Fine then. Malfoy, lead the way,” Remus said.
End flashback
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Fred’s head reeled as it all came crashing back. All the pain, the grief, the tears. His head was spinning and he felt sick. How could he have forgotten? Why had he forced himself to remember? His drunken ignorance had been wonderful. He felt suddenly warm and suffocated. He could sense Ginny and Remus looking at him. He watched Draco and Harry laughing at each other. He saw his glass fall to the floor and shatter into a million tiny, broken pieces.
“No,” he whispered, standing suddenly from his seat. The world spun and blackness took over.
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He felt his eyes peel themselves open before slamming shut again at the unexpected brightness. A groan escaped his lips and he had the sudden urge to throw up.
Suddenly, the night before, or what he could remember of it, came crashing back to him and his body shot up. He ignored the spinning, the nausea, the pain. The numbness he had felt earlier began to once again take hold of him. He sat still for a minute before he noticed his surroundings.
He was not alone in this room. Next to him slept the form of Draco Malfoy, his arm thrown across Fred’s stomach. His clothes were rumpled and his hair astray. He was snoring lightly. Across the room, slumped uncomfortably on the floor in the corner, lay Remus Lupin, his head thrown awkwardly back, his tattered robes wrapped around the sleeping form of Ginny Weasley. Neither snored. Both looked content.
Fred felt his heart constrict slightly at the seemingly peaceful people around him. What had he been thinking? How could he have allowed his baby sister to see him like that? How could he have allowed himself to take her away from his grieving family? With Ron de… a lump formed in his throat but he pushed it down.
It was his job now to watch after Ginny, the previous occupant of the position was no longer available. He shook his head slightly. Fine job he was doing so far.
He sat back against the headboard and wondered how he had gotten here. He had visited this flat enough to know where he was. A slight creaking at the door made his head snap towards the sound.
He watched as it slowly opened and the intruder of his thoughts pushed their way into the room silently. He watched her scan the sleeping forms of Ginny and Remus with a softness to her face. He saw her eyes get lost within herself as she took in Draco’s sleeping body. Then her eyes met his. He saw the pain in her. The utter feeling of being lost obvious to any who knew what to look for.
She didn’t seem shocked to find him awake. She forced herself to smile slightly as she approached the bed. He noticed she was carrying a bowl of water and a rag was thrown across her shoulder. An air of authority and a sense of mothering seemed to crackle around her. She looked beautiful.
“Well, how are you feeling?” her soft voice asked. She set the water on the bedside table and sat next to him, her weight shifting the mattress slightly. They both froze as Draco started mumbling in his sleep, the movement having interrupted his dreams. After a moment he fell silent again and snuggled deeper into Fred’s side.
“Considering I woke up next to Draco Malfoy, not too bad,” Fred said lightly, his playfulness sounding cold and empty to his ears. He knew Hermione had heard it, but she ignored it.
“Yes well, that would be enough to frighten anyone,” she said softly, a genuine smile appearing fleetingly on her lips. She took the towel from her shoulder and dipped it gently into the water. She took it out and held it in her hands, her eyes downcast as though she were unsure of how to proceed. After a moment she looked back up at Fred and began to run the warm towel over his throbbing head.
Her touch was warm, gentle, loving, everything he didn’t wish to feel. He wasn’t allowed to feel these things any more. It was his punishment, his fate. She made him want to open up, to grab her and cry endlessly into her shoulder.
Hey eyes gently watched him, allowing him time to sort himself. “How did we end up at Remus’s?” Fred asked, desperate to break the silence.
At his question she had to stifle a laugh. “Next time you lot plan on going out on the piss while your family sits mourning the death of a loved one, let someone know first,” Hermione said, no accusations in her voice. “Your mother was in a frenzy. Ready to send the entire Ministry looking for all of you. Arthur and Charlie had to hold George down till we could calm everyone down enough to think.”
Fred ignored the tightness in his heart at the mention of his twin. “Yeah well, didn’t mean to worry anyone. Had to get out you know. The house was stifling us,” Fred said. His eyes closed as she brought the warm rag to his eyes.
He heard her sigh before she spoke. “Yes well, I don’t blame you. Neither does your father, or Bill for that matter. As for the others, well, being angry at you at least helps them focus on something other then the grief.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Fred said quietly.
“Ah yes, sorry. How did you lot end up here? Well, Bill and I took it upon ourselves to locate you. Had to calm Molly’s nerves. She thought you all had gone after Voldermort yourselves. One look at the empty bottle in the living room and well, wasn’t to difficult to figure out what you had in mind. Bill figured you wouldn’t want to go to a wizard pub considering you were with Malfoy and Harry,” Hermione told him as she took the towel from his eyes. She brought her fingers to his cheek and caressed it momentarily before dropping it to her lap.
Fred opened his eyes slowly and looked around the room once more. “Speaking of Harry…” he let the question go unfinished.
At his words Hermione glanced quickly at Draco and smiled. “Harry is out cold on the couch. When Bill and I finally located you all at the pub you had just blacked out. Long story short, we thought it best to bring everyone here instead of your house. It was also necessary to uh, hmm- separate Harry and Draco. It seems they have overcome their differences,” Hermione said, trying to hold back her amusement.
Memories of Draco and Harry embracing came into Fred’s head and he smirked at the thought. “Wonder if they will still love each other when Harry finds out Draco slept with me instead,” Fred said.
Hermione let out a loud string of laughs, unable to hold it in any longer. Fred watched her with his dead eyes and noticed the vibrancy that surrounded her. He knew she needed this release. It would help her.
“Oh Fred,” Hermione said, her laughter dwindling. She looked into his eyes and her laughter died. “Oh Fred,” she repeated; only this time her tone was somber. “Did it help? Did running away and drinking it all away help?” she asked, sincerely wanting to know.
Fred didn’t answer. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about it. He was saved further questions by the groan that escaped Remus’s mouth across the room. They both turned to watch as the werewolf slowly woke. He stretched his neck and looked down at the bundle in his arms. He gently pushed Ginny’s hair away from her face and a smile appeared on the sad man’s face. Ginny’s eyes slowly fluttered open and she smiled up at his scarred face. They hadn’t noticed their audience. Hermione and Fred felt as though they were intruding.
They were all saved from further embarrassment as Draco began to wake up, his groans of discomfort piercing the silence and causing everyone’s eyes to fly to his body. “Oh Merlin,” they heard him mutter as he tightened his grip around Fred’s torso. He mumbled something into Fred’s chest that he was sure was ‘Granger.’
Suddenly laughter from three throats broke through the room and Draco’s eyes flew open. Fred watched as the Slytherin’s eyes traveled the length of the room finally resting on Hermione’s. “Hermione,” he whispered. Suddenly Fred felt Draco’s body stiffen. “Hermione!” Draco shouted as he realized that is was Fred he was snuggling with instead of the Gryffindor Princess.
They all watched as he flew out of the bed, his eyes looking everywhere other then at Fred. “What...huh…I mean,” Malfoy muttered as he tried to recall the previous night’s events.
“Don’t worry Draco,” Fred purred, “I was gentle with you.” The alarm that suddenly registered in the man’s eyes sent Ginny and Hermione into fits of giggles.
Draco glared at them momentarily before relief washed through his form. “Merlin Fred, that was cruel.”
“Yeah well, why pass up a perfect opportunity to torture you,” Fred said. He threw his legs over the bed and walked over to Ginny and Remus. He let his dead eyes meet the werewolf’s for a second before he turned his gaze to his sister. He didn’t say anything, he simply held out his hand to Ginny. He watched her hesitate before one side of the inner battle within her won out. She reached out and allowed her older brother to help her up.
“That him then?” came a voice from the doorway. They all turned to see Harry standing there wrapped in a pink, flowery blanket. His eyes were locked onto Ginny’s. Fred felt her grip tighten momentarily in his.
“Harry…” Ginny began, her eyes traveling between Remus and Harry, but let his name die on her lips.
Harry held his hand up. “It’s fine Gin. After all, I have me my own man who loves me,” he said as he winked at Draco before turning and leaving the room.
Fred watched as Malfoy went pale. Hermione stood and cleared her throat. “Look, get yourselves cleaned up. Bill went back to the Burrow last night to tell Molly and Arthur you were all okay. I made some food if you think your stomachs can handle it,” she said, her gaze finally landing guardedly on Draco’s. Unspoken words falling between them.
“Yeah, I could eat,” Fred said before he turned and left the room. He made his way through the hallway and found Harry sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes staring off into the distance, a single tear rolling down his face. Fred sat in the chair next to Harry as Ginny and Remus entered the kitchen. The table was piled with food but Fred thought it all looked like ash.
He heard the muffled voices of Hermione and Draco in the other room. He watched unfeeling as the others attempted to chew their food. He heard the rain pouring down. He felt the sudden urge to get revenge. Everything was different now. One quick action had taken away everything they had known. He wanted to kill them all, all those wizards who felt they could take away his world. Fred sat at the table contemplating how he would get his revenge as the others ate their lunch.
A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls.
Nothing had changed.
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A/N: Okay folks. That was the necessary Utility Chapter that needed to be written concerning everyone’s grief. I hope it wasn’t too boring for your taste. As for the next chapter, well it should be up in a few days, already have half written so no more waiting a month! Next Chapter: Hermione/Draco interraction!
Love, Ally
“Get up and dance - Get up and smile
Get up and drink to the days
that are gone in the shortest while
Oh get up and dance - Get up and smile
Get up and drink to the ones
who are gone in the shortest while
I sing my sorrow
Yeah I sing my sorrow”
-One For The Road by Ocean Colour Scene (one of the best songs written about grief, in my opinion.)
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Chapter 20: Fix You
Summary: Feeling even more guilty then usual, Draco watches as the dead get buried.
A/N: After a way too long hiatus I present the next chapter. Hope it lives up to your standards. A million thank you’s to LORETT for betaing!
SUGGESTION: you may wish to go back and at least read the last chapter or so seeing as it has been SOOOOOOO long!
Last time on ‘A Reason’:
Harry held his hand up. “It’s fine Gin. After all, I have me my own man who loves me,” he said as he winked at Draco before turning and leaving the room.
Fred watched as Malfoy went pale. Hermione stood and cleared her throat. “Look, get yourselves cleaned up. Bill went back to the Burrow last night to tell Molly and Arthur you were all okay. I made some food if you think your stomachs can handle it,” she said, her gaze finally landing guardedly on Draco’s. Unspoken words falling between them.
“Yeah, I could eat,” Fred said before he turned and left the room. He made his way through the hallway and found Harry sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes staring off into the distance, a single tear rolling down his face. Fred sat in the chair next to Harry as Ginny and Remus entered the kitchen. The table was piled with food but Fred thought it all looked like ash.
He heard the muffled voices of Hermione and Draco in the other room. He watched unfeeling as the others attempted to chew their food. He heard the rain pouring down. He felt the sudden urge to get revenge. Everything was different now. One quick action had taken away everything they had known. He wanted to kill them all, all those wizards who felt they could take away his world. Fred sat at the table contemplating how he would get his revenge as the others ate their lunch.
A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls.
Nothing had changed.
And now…………..
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It was raining. It seemed to always be raining these days. Draco attempted to remember when it hadn’t been raining. It didn’t matter. It was raining today, and today was something he sincerely wished he could just miss. Today was something he was not prepared to handle.
He had borrowed one of Remus’ tatty black dress robes and though it had started off too large for his frame, the rain soon plastered it to his pale skin in a sickening combination of velvet and wetness. Draco could barely remember the feel of silk and satin, the finest tweeds. No, they were distant memories now.
But it didn’t matter. None of that did.
He continued staring at the muddy ground in front of him hoping that the wind would go on blowing, drowning the sounds of sobs and words of farewell. This was not where he was meant to be. He did not belong.
But none of that mattered. He was here, now, and he wouldn’t leave until she did.
A slight movement to his left made him turn. Harry’s glasses were covered in large droplets of rain, shielding his eyes from the funeral before him. He hadn’t said a word all day. Hadn’t even looked at anyone all day. His pain was written on his face for the world to see. Like Draco, Harry had chosen to stand beyond the others, slightly removed from the mourning group. Draco looked up and thought that maybe ‘mob’ would be more the appropriate term.
An amazing amount of people had turned up to watch Ronald Weasley be buried. More than any of them had imagined. Draco felt a slight twinge as he thought of his own death. Would anyone even come? Would anyone even bury him? His gaze found its way to Hermione and he watched her, standing there next to George while holding Fred’s hand. You could tell the difference between the twins now. No one would ever mistake the two again. As he watched her, he thought that yes, someone would see him buried. Someone at least would care if he died.
As the rain continued to beat down on the beautifully carved casket, Draco’s gaze fell upon Bill Weasley, his savior from alcohol and affairs with Harry Potter. Draco thought back to yesterday when he had actually met the forceful wizard.
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(flashback)
The door closed as the others dragged themselves to the kitchen. Draco felt the pounding behind his eyes and thought that maybe this time he had indeed drank just a little too much. A small sigh from across the room brought his eyes shooting up to lock onto Hermione’s. He stood frozen as surely as if she were Medusa. ‘Maybe she is,’ he thought bitterly. She certainly turned his insides to stone every time her eyes met his and felt his flesh sear at her glance.
He swallowed audibly and watched as she smiled a small smile that did not reach her eyes.
“Certainly in love with a lot of people these days, aren’t we, Draco. One might think you had a problem with committing. If you’d be happier with Harry, you can have him. But I’m taking the dog and the Manor,” she told him in her most matter-of-fact tone.
For his part Draco stood with his mouth hanging open as a million memories flashed through his head.
(flashback within a flashback!)
He tore his mouth away from hers, his forehead resting against hers as he panted, his lungs screaming for oxygen. His mind still intoxicated with the taste of her and the feel of her hard-soft body beneath his. He leaned forward and placed a soft, almost chaste kiss against her hot mouth. “Merlin, I love you Hermione,” he whispered against her lips. She gasped.
Suddenly Draco’s eyes shot open. He saw her own eyes staring back at him in surprise and wonder. His words came crashing back into his now sober brain and his entire body stiffened.
“What?” Hermione whispered, her hands frozen in his hair.
(end flashback within a flashback!)
The memory smashed into his already aching skull and Draco Malfoy thought his luck had finally run out. “You remember that huh?” he asked quietly, carefully.
Hermione let out a short laugh. ˜It’s not everyday a man tells me he loves me,” she said softly, her eyes sparkling from grief or amusement, he couldn’t tell.
“Look, Hermione, what I said, it’s, I was, I am,” Draco tried to put his thoughts, his fears into words but found his brain was unable to make a connection with his mouth. Before he could make a fool of himself even further, she interrupted.
“Don’t,” she said, her eyes pinning him. “This has been a very trying couple of weeks, Draco and I am done with the secrets, lies, plots, and stolen moments. I am a smart witch. I know when a man is looking at me with more than lust in his eyes. And don’t you dare try and say you didn’t mean what you said. Neither of us is stupid. Don’t act like we are.”
“But I am, Hermione. Don’t you see that?” he asked, his voice pleading. “I’m stupid to think I could fit into this life you live. Stupid to think I could waltz back through the open door like nothing had ever happened. Stupid to think people would accept it. Even stupider to think no one would get hurt.” Draco took a deep breath, his words floating around the room making his head spin. “It doesn’t matter now anyway, Hermione. Don’t you see that? Whatever I feel, whatever I felt, I am too far gone. I’m flawed, broken, and because of this I have brought death to your lives and will probably bring my own before this is over. I have hurt you too much already, I think. To make you think I feel something; to hope you might return that, would just make things worse when the end comes.”
Hermione felt her breath rise up and down in her chest allowing his words to process. She remembered the impassioned and torn boy who had cornered her in the library, remembered the feel of his warm breath on her face. The pain in his eyes. The fear. She thought maybe he had always been broken, more so than the rest of them. He had never had anyone to pick up the pieces. Had never wanted anyone to, until he had tried to kill a girl so many years ago.
She reached out her hand as though to push back his pain from across the room. His eyes were furnaces of emotion, his body radiating the tension she knew he must be feeling. “Draco, please don’t push me away. Not anymore.” She took a deep breath and prepared her next words through a haze, not allowing her mind to linger on them. “Ron is dead, so many are already dead. We grew up in the middle of a war. No one should suffer that alone. Stop forcing yourself to. Let me help with the pain. Let me try,” Hermione pleaded, taking a step closer to him.
“You can’t fix this, Hermione!” Draco shouted his voice full of desperation and loneliness. “You can’t fix me! I’m broken. Hell we all are,” he spat, sitting down onto the edge of the bed, his hand running tiredly through his messy hair. “Sometimes people can’t go back to how they were. Sometimes it’s too late.”
Silence settled over the room. He couldn’t look up at her. She made him reveal too much, far too much. Hermione just stood staring at a point past him, her thoughts running too quickly through her mind to grab one. The silence stretched, twisted, threatened to break over them.
“Why did you come back, Draco?” Hermione finally whispered.
“You’ve asked me this already, Hermione,” Draco replied, his eyes still focused on the wonders of the Oriental rug at his feet.
“Yes, yes I have, but I want to hear your answer again,” she said firmly. Her body seemed to move forward of its own accord. She found herself standing before a broken creature. The woman in her wanted to gather him in her arms and never let go, not this time. She wanted to run her fingers through his silky hair kiss him and tell him they would all be fine. But she hadn’t allowed herself to be just a woman in a very long time. She couldn’t allow herself to be now.
Draco Malfoy was right. They were all broken, some more than others, but still broken. The war had made them all tired. She feared that at the end of it all, assuming she made it, she would be nothing more than an empty shell. Draco Malfoy very much feared he already was.
He took a deep breath to steady the dizziness the hangover and her presence were causing him.
“Hermione,” but Draco never had a chance to finish what he was about to say as a sharp knock was heard from the door. His eyes flashed momentarily and he leaned forward as though reluctant to give up their solitude. But Hermione knew the real world was waiting to take over again. Would she never get more than five minutes with him?
“Come in,” she said to the door.
Bill stood in the doorway his eyes taking them in with one quick, precise sweep. “Just got back from the Burrow. Thought you should know the funeral is tomorrow,” he said crisply, delivering his news in a swift, forceful way that made both Hermione and Draco feel as though a mighty wind had just blown through the room and left just as fast.
“Okay, Bill,” Hermione said, trying to keep a part of herself from really processing what he had said. “Okay. Did you tell the others”
“Yeah. Fred and Harry went back to help out and make amends for disappearing last night,” Bill answered, leaning his long, hard body against the door frame. Hermione sensed his weariness.
“Was she terribly upset? Your uh, mother that is?” Draco asked quietly, his question catching the other two off guard.
Bill took him in with that cold penetrating gaze before replying. “Yeah, had a fit she did,” he said, but then a slow smile spread across his face. “Did her good though, snapped her out of her feeling sorry. Made her focus on what needed to be done. Though I doubt Fred and Harry will escape her wrath. Think Ginny and Remus will be in for a bit too when they make their presence known later on,” Bill said and turned his head towards the kitchen. A look of curious protectiveness was now present in his eyes as though he was trying to process what to do about his little sister’s new relationship.
“You should leave it be, Bill. She’ll need him now more than ever,” Hermione warned.
Bill nodded once and then brought his gaze back to the other occupants of the room. I suppose you’re right, Hermione. You usually are. So, Draco Malfoy, Bill Weasley.” Bill introduced himself and held out his hand as he walked to stand in front of the rather haggard looking wizard.
Draco stared dumbly at the hand in front of his face. Surprised did not even begin to describe how he felt. “Never actually been properly introduced,” Bill explained, waving his hand in front of Draco’s stunned face.
Remembering his upbringing - and the fact that this man was offering him a gesture of goodwill, when only yesterday he had helped carry his Brother’s dead body home - Draco stood up and grabbed Bill’s hand in a strong grip. “Nice to meet you, Bill,” Draco said firmly.
“Never thought I would say this, but nice to meet you too,” Bill almost laughed while shaking Draco’s hand vigorously. Bill let go and suddenly his face became serious. “Now come on you two, a lot needs to be done today.” And with that he turned and left the room. Draco swore he could feel the blast of wind again. He decided Bill was a force. Simply that. The man swept into a room and swept back out. While in the room each look, each word had a power behind it. He had accepted Draco with hardly any explanation and Draco respected that. He decided he liked Bill Weasley.
“What are you smiling at?” Hermione asked from just below him. Draco looked down into her eyes.
“He is an interesting man,” Draco replied quietly.
Hermione allowed herself a soft smile and a nod. ˜Yes, yes he is.” She paused, “We aren’t done talking about this, Draco. Don’t think you get to escape this conversation. But right now we have to go plan my best friend’s funeral. You might think you don’t need me, but I need you right now. Do you understand? I can’t break down. I have to be strong for them, and I need you to help me with that,” she said in a firm voice. Draco felt his mouth open, but before he could get a word in, he felt her soft hand slide into his. She turned and left the room leading him to some unknown.
(End flashback)
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She hadn’t let go of his hand for the rest of that day. It had been a new experience for Draco, having to plan a funeral. Watching these people and realizing just how much Ronald Weasley had been loved. He was thankful that Hermione had continued to hold onto him, though he realized now that by the end of the day it had been him holding onto her.
Sudden movement brought Draco’s gaze back up to the funeral. People were starting to move away. It must be over. So lost in his thoughts had he been that he hadn’t noticed the proceedings. He watched as Hermione hugged both Molly and Arthur in turn before turning and burying herself in Fred’s arms. He watched as Harry stood slightly removed, just as he himself was, his eyes still focusing on nothing. Remus slowly made his way over to stand beside Draco, Ginny Weasley attached to his arm, looking at Harry in concern.
“He hasn’t said a word,” Ginny stated.
“No, not since yesterday morning at your flat Remus,” Draco answered, turning his gaze back to Harry.
“Maybe I should...” Ginny began to say, taking a short step toward Harry.
“Just let him be, for now,” Draco stopped her with his words, his eyes locking onto the youngest Weasley. She returned his stare and must have seen understanding there for she nodded softly and turned back to Remus, wiping some rain from her black robes. Draco understood what was going through Harry’s mind. He had been there himself once before. The Boy-who-lived would come back to them all when and if he wanted to.
Bill had joined their little gathering bringing with him Hermione. She too stood staring at Harry as though wondering if she should approach him but then thought better of it and turned back towards them.
“They’re all heading back to the house, to get out of the rain, eat some food. Your mum is worried she won’t have enough for everyone who shows up,” Hermione said to Ginny.
“I’m sure it will be sufficient. Not very hungry myself,” Ginny replied, her hand reaching out to clasp Hermione’s. Draco cringed at the show of affection; the show of mourning...It was all his fault.
He felt a presence behind him and they all turned to watch Fred walk up. His eyes locked onto Harry behind them and then moved to his sister’s. Draco watched as Ginny winced slightly at the lack of emotion in her brother’s eyes. He felt his heart clench. He turned his head slightly only to confront the gaze of Hermione. So many questions lived there, in her eyes.
He couldn’t hold it in any longer. All the guilt that had been eating at him as he had sat listening to the Weasley’s plan a funeral for one of their own, now pushed at his insides. The dead look in Fred’s eyes made him feel darker and dirtier then he had ever felt before in his life.
“It’s my fault Ron is dead. You all know it. If I hadn’t come Back...” Draco’s voice trailed off.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Fred said, his voice dead and his eyes deader. “If you hadn’t come back Ron would probably still be alive. Hermione would probably be dead though,” he said pointing a finger at the stunned witch. Draco’s head shot up. ˜You would never have gone to her flat and that wizard would have killed her. Then what? Huh?” Fred allowed his gaze to take them all in. “Who would have died then looking for revenge? Harry? Ron? Me?”
Fred took a step toward Draco. “Listen to me and listen to me well, Draco Malfoy. It doesn’t matter if you came back or not. People were going to die. People probably still will,” Fred almost whispered. Ginny shook her head as though to deny it, but her eyes held the truth. Remus reached out a hand to comfort her but drew it back unable to find comfort himself. Bill just stared at his brother, a hundred deaths playing before his haunted eyes.
“He’s right,” Harry spoke up startling the others. His voice was defeated, tired sounding. They hadn’t seen him approach. Harry took his glasses off and tried to clear the rain from them for the first time since they had arrived at the graveyard. His eyes still would not meet anyone else’s. “We can’t change it, any of it. It’s too late to fix the past.”
“I’m so sorry,’ Draco whispered, his eyes pools of self-pity and regret. A deep sense of failure and uncertainty began to envelop Draco. His eyes began to unfocus as his mind reeled at the reality of all that had occurred these past six years that had been directly related to him.
Suddenly Hermione walked up to Draco and a loud slap could be heard as her hand connected with his face. The rain making it sting that much more. Draco barely moved or blinked. He expected it. He felt he deserved it. His eyes finally came back into focus on her feet, the black of her shoes covered in brown mud.
“You look at me,” she said, “Look at me!” It was the pain in Hermione’s voice that made Draco look up at her. Her eyes were red and her hair was plastered in wet curls to her face. Her bottom lip quivered and her hands were balled into fists. She was beautiful.
“I have had it with your pity party. So what, you’re broken! We all bloody are. You are not weak! Don’t you dare start losing it now. Not after everything. I might not be able to fix you, Draco Malfoy,” Hermione spat out, “but damnit we are going to fix this.” She stood - her body quivering or shivering from the rain, it was unclear - her finger pointing down to Ron’s grave. “Do you hear me?” her words cold and carrying to the others as her eyes traveled to each of them. “We are going to fix this, even if we lose ourselves in the process. They will pay for what they have taken. We will make them pay.”
“They will wish they had never touched Ron,” Fred agreed quietly, though his words held such pain and anger.
“We’ll kill them all,” Harry laughed, his words holding a hint of madness in them. His eyes locked with Draco and Draco stepped back from the truth he found there. For the first time Draco Malfoy truly understood Harry Potter.
The man had nothing left to lose.
Harry had just buried his best friend. His mortal enemy had reappeared to take away the woman he loved. The only other woman in Harry’s life had found companionship in the arms of the only link to his dead parents.
Draco Malfoy realized that Harry Potter was utterly and completely alone.
And for the first time, Draco was scared of him.
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A/N: Well? I know I know. Dark and all. This was very hard to write after so long so please allow me to get back into stride! Okay I have a million thank you’s but due to the rumour going around about not be allowed to do that anymore I will just generally say how much I love all of you and thank you sooo much for sticking with me through this!
Also. The chapter format may be a tad confusing. But the first flashback, Draco-Hermione-Bill, takes off just after the last chapter when Harry, Fred, Ginny, and Remus leave the room after their drunken night out.
The flashback within the flashback is from the chapter: boulevard of Broken Dreams, when Draco runs through the mansion for a kiss and an I love you before he, Fred, and Remus take off for the fortress of evil.
Not much takes place in this chapter but it was necessary to have to funeral before I can move forward. A lot had to be said.
NEXT UP: Chapter 21: Silent Revelations (already finished! woohoo)
A little interlude and then...No more playing around. The battle is on and someone, if not everyone is going to pay. Let the action begin and the running away stop. Plus, does Hermione finally corner Draco and get a bit more out of him than excuses? (hmm just smile)
Love, Ally
‘Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try To fix you’
-Coldplay
Chapters 19&20
Title: Harry Potter, I Love You
Author: Hafthand
Rating: PG-13 (I will be changing this rating to R or M whatever the new rating is. Just a warning)
A/N: First off, I want to thank Lorett first and foremost. She kindly betaed this chapter for me. I had a lot of trouble with the grief bits and she kindly stepped in and added her life experience to my humble words. A BIG THANK YOU to her. She is a doll, a star!
Also I must thank Mrs. Accio-Firebolt and Bloodrust for their kind e-mails and prodding to get this chapter written. Thank you ladies, without you this would have taken even longer.
Now I apologize for how long it took to get this chapter out. I do so hope it was worth the wait! Nothing major happens in this chapter, but the necessary continuation.
I suggest re-reading the last chapter or two since it has been so long!
RECAP: Ron dead, all grieving, Draco running from Hermione yet again, and Fred pulling Draco aside to speak privately!
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“Harry Potter, I love you!” came the proud pronouncement, his voice ringing out through the musty, smoke-filled pub.
Silence froze the pub. Not one person moved for a full five seconds after his announcement. Then suddenly, a great cheer shook the timbers of the pub as the two embraced each other as brothers.
“Alcohol truly is a gift from the gods,” Fred Weasley slurred to his companions as he watched Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, former enemies, holding each other tightly as tears streamed down their faces across the pub.
“Wish Ron could have seen this,” slurred an equally tearful Ginny Weasley from her seat on Remus Lupin’s lap.
“I have no doubt he would be weeping with joy,” Remus choked out, burying his head and his tears in Ginny’s wondrous hair.
Fred turned his heavy head to stare at his weeping sister and pained friend. Ginny’s glass was clutched loosely in her tiny hand, her eyes riveted to the scene in the front of the pub. Remus sat, his head hidden, his hands wrapped tightly around the oblivious redhead. At the mention of his brother’s name, he had momentarily felt as though he should have been feeling some sort of emotion other than blissful drunkenness, but it was fleeting and he focused on what was in front of him.
“Hey Ginny? Why you sittin’ on Senor Werewolf’s lap?” Fred asked quizzically, his face screwed up in concentration.
She turned and regarded him for the briefest of moments. Had Fred not consumed enough alcohol to kill an elephant, he would have noticed the momentary clearing in his baby sister’s eyes. The fleeting soberness; the cold pain of reality. But Fred did not see this. Ginny turned her eyes to the man whose lap she sat in and smiled slightly before she opened her mouth. “Why Draco and Potter hugging?” she asked her older brother.
Fred paused and turned his head towards the two wizards. His eyes grew small as he searched his befuddled mind for the events that had led up to this moment. “Yeah, why are they huggin?” Fred asked aloud, as his mind stretched.
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Flashback
Empty. Hollow. That is how he felt.
That is how he would always feel from now on. He didn’t see how he could ever feel any differently ever again; it just wasn’t possible. The pain had burned so strong that his body was now numb. He was oblivious to anything. The air was palpable with grief, you could feel it with every breath, in and out…anguish, sorrow, emptiness, death. Nothing would be the same. Everything had changed.
Fred stood staring at the dripping wet figure of Draco Malfoy before him. He didn’t know why he wished to speak with Malfoy privately except for the fact that it took him away from the kitchen.
The kitchen. His little brother’s current resting place. Ron. Blood. Pain. Blood. Loss. Body. Hurt. Tears. Weeping.
“STOP!” Fred finally screamed out loud.
He saw Malfoy step back at his outburst, his eyes darting uncertainly towards the doorway before falling back to him. Malfoy’s eyes locked guardedly on Fred’s and he settled into a silent stance.
Fred was grateful for his silence. He couldn’t take words right now. There had been too many already. He couldn’t bear any more.
“The advantage of having a large family is that you are never alone; you are always loved. There is always someone there for you,” Fred found himself saying. He didn’t remember deciding to speak and his words surprised him. From the raised eyebrow on his companions face, Fred has surprised him as well. But he had started and he wasn’t about to stop now. Something in Malfoy’s eye beckoned him to continue.
“Disadvantage to having a large family, when someone dies, the pain is multiplied by ten. Too many people saying ‘sorry’; too many people crying. You’d think with such a large family the loss of one could be hidden in the masses,” Fred spit out, his voice distant and hard. A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls
He allowed his eyes to travel down Malfoy’s lean body, until they rested on his hand where the dagger sat. He couldn’t steal his cold gaze from it; it glinted and shimmered in the firelight, mocking him in its easy, lethal grace. He snorted; it was so very, very simple looking. Yes, simple in its elegance, and elegant in its simplicity. Such a pretty thing.
Malfoy noticed Fred’s gaze and slowly raised the dagger between them. “Where did you get it?” Fred asked, his voice steel.
Draco squinted his eyes slightly and tore them away from the silver light playing on the edge of the dagger and brought them up to meet Fred’s once more. “I was just about to ask you the same thing Weasley,” Draco said, his voice also distant and hard.
Fred stood very still for a moment. When it was clear he would not speak until Draco had answered his question, Draco’s eyes grew very dark and he said one word. “Hermione.”
Ah yes, the root of it all. Hermione Granger. Suddenly Fred laughed out loud. One short, loud burst of laughter that felt as though it was being torn from his very body. He shook from the strain of releasing it and bit down hard on his cheek feeling as though his laugh had burned a path of fire from his stomach upwards and out through his throat. He felt sick.
He glanced at Malfoy and noticed the curious stare. “I’m not crazy Malfoy. Not yet anyway,” Fred muttered. “I realized something just now. You,” he said pointing his bloody finger at Draco to make his point, “and me are not so different.” He let the words drift slowly between them awaiting Malfoy’s response. A moment later he was rewarded with a simple grunt of acceptance from the wet ferret. A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls.
Fred sighed loudly and ran his bloody hands through his tousled red hair. He suddenly felt old, so very old. He turned and walked across the comfortable room to his father’s small collection of alcoholic beverages. Finding the Fire Whiskey, he turned to Malfoy and held up the bottle in question. Draco nodded and walked slowly towards him.
Fred filled two glasses, tipped back his head and let the drink burn it’s way down the path his laughter had created. He picked up Malfoy’s glass and glanced at it before pouring that down his throat as well. Fred didn’t even wince at the taste; he’d long since gone numb. He filled the glasses again and this time turned and gave Malfoy his share.
They raised their glasses to each other in mock toast and downed their poison. Fred noticed Draco still held onto the dagger.
“What will you do with it?” Fred asked while refilling their glasses. Soon they would empty the bottle.
Draco tipped his head back to receive the second drink before handing the glass back to Fred for more. He raised his blood-covered hand and stared at the offending object. “It was only ever meant to kill one person,” he heard Malfoy whisper.
“Yeah well, it never tasted her blood. Apparently it was meant for blood…a bit more pure,” Fred spit out, his words coming out harsh and pain filled.
He had by now finished the bottle of Fire Whiskey and was refilling their glasses with some Scotch. He expected Draco to continue talking, but was happy he didn’t. He watched over the rim of his glass as Draco hid the dagger inside his tattered robes. A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls.
“I fear there may not be enough alcohol in this house to suit our needs,” Fred spoke softly, suddenly breaking the silence, his mouth fixed in a smile that would never again reach his dead eyes. He was pleased to see the same look mirrored on Draco’s face.
“I think you are right Mr. Weasley. Perhaps we should find our succor elsewhere?” Draco asked, his voice laced with all the respect and superiority he had been bred into. Fred smiled again and patted Malfoy on the back.
“You read my mind,” Fred said. The need to escape this prison was too great. He needed out. Draco simply accepted Fred’s words and he was thankful the wizard never suggested he stay with his grieving family. Oh yes, it did appear that Fred and he were more alike than he would have ever believed. Death had always lurked in Draco’s eyes, now it took up residence in Fred’s.
Fred knew most of Draco’s secrets after their little chat back at the Manor. Now Draco was living Fred’s. Fred’s eyes flicked to the finished bottle of Scotch. He wanted to get out of here NOW. He wanted to be anyplace but here. Here, where reality was simply too much to bear. He wanted to be somewhere where no one knew him. Somewhere, where a person could look at him and not guess that grief was battling to conquer his soul. Somewhere, where he could pretend for just a few brief moments that his life was normal again. That he was still normal, that he still had his whole family with him. Somewhere, where no one would be able to see that he was threatening to die from the weight of guilt and horror that was slowly chocking the life from him with each breath he took…His breath that he would gladly trade for his brother’s. Breath that SHOULD have been his brother’s…He groaned, Fred needed to get out of here…A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls.
A shuffling behind them made the two young wizards turn sharply towards the doorway. They had been so wrapped up in themselves and their conversation that they had failed to notice some changes that had occurred in the room. As Fred’s lifeless gaze traveled the room, he wondered just how long the others had been there.
Remus Lupin was sitting on the floor against the wall, staring at the two with a far away, detached look. Ginny lay on the couch, her dress messed and flowing lazily around her. Her eyes were attached to the ceiling, but Fred knew his sister and he knew she had been listening. It appeared that it had been Harry Potter himself that had caused the slight rustling by the doorway. Fred thought he had never seen Harry so defeated, so small. Fred was relieved upon scanning the room to see George was not there. He couldn’t see George yet, then it would be REAL and Fred wasn’t ready for reality just yet….
Fred wondered at their presence. How long had they been in the room? Had they been listening or had they been too wrapped up in their own grief, their own pain. He sensed rather than saw Malfoy stiffen beside him at the sight of the others, his hand gripping the empty glass before him.
“Well?” Remus asked, suddenly breaking the stalemate. “Which pub?”
Fred felt the tension in him start to dissipate. Whether it was from Remus’s unexpected but welcome words, or from the consumption of so much alcohol he didn’t know or care. Fred sensed Draco relax next to him as well.
“I was thinking The Hag’s Bluff,” came Ginny’s defeated voice from the couch.
“Nah, too many wizards. I say we go to a muggle pub. Less questions,” Harry said, before he walked across the room and offered Ginny a hand up. She gracefully accepted and proceeded to smooth her green dress as her eyes darted towards Remus. The werewolf raised himself from the floor and approached the other two.
“Harry has a point. The alcohol is weaker, but considering our company,” and Remus pointedly looked at Malfoy and Harry before continuing, “I think a muggle pub is our best bet. Any suggestions?”
Ginny shrugged and Harry just stood there. ‘God how fast people change in the matter of hours. How the mighty are falling,’ Fred thought to himself. He felt Draco move beside him as the Slytherin placed his glass back on the shelf before turning to look at the group once more.
“I know a place,” Malfoy said, his voice soft, remote.
“Good. Let’s go before any one notices,” Harry growled, his eyes darting uncertainly towards the kitchen door.
“Should we get Hermione or George?” Ginny asked, though her tone indicated she didn’t care either way.
“NO!” Draco and Fred said forcefully and coldly at the same time. Fred glanced at Draco and wondered what had transpired to cause such an answer.
“Fine then. Malfoy, lead the way,” Remus said.
End flashback
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Fred’s head reeled as it all came crashing back. All the pain, the grief, the tears. His head was spinning and he felt sick. How could he have forgotten? Why had he forced himself to remember? His drunken ignorance had been wonderful. He felt suddenly warm and suffocated. He could sense Ginny and Remus looking at him. He watched Draco and Harry laughing at each other. He saw his glass fall to the floor and shatter into a million tiny, broken pieces.
“No,” he whispered, standing suddenly from his seat. The world spun and blackness took over.
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He felt his eyes peel themselves open before slamming shut again at the unexpected brightness. A groan escaped his lips and he had the sudden urge to throw up.
Suddenly, the night before, or what he could remember of it, came crashing back to him and his body shot up. He ignored the spinning, the nausea, the pain. The numbness he had felt earlier began to once again take hold of him. He sat still for a minute before he noticed his surroundings.
He was not alone in this room. Next to him slept the form of Draco Malfoy, his arm thrown across Fred’s stomach. His clothes were rumpled and his hair astray. He was snoring lightly. Across the room, slumped uncomfortably on the floor in the corner, lay Remus Lupin, his head thrown awkwardly back, his tattered robes wrapped around the sleeping form of Ginny Weasley. Neither snored. Both looked content.
Fred felt his heart constrict slightly at the seemingly peaceful people around him. What had he been thinking? How could he have allowed his baby sister to see him like that? How could he have allowed himself to take her away from his grieving family? With Ron de… a lump formed in his throat but he pushed it down.
It was his job now to watch after Ginny, the previous occupant of the position was no longer available. He shook his head slightly. Fine job he was doing so far.
He sat back against the headboard and wondered how he had gotten here. He had visited this flat enough to know where he was. A slight creaking at the door made his head snap towards the sound.
He watched as it slowly opened and the intruder of his thoughts pushed their way into the room silently. He watched her scan the sleeping forms of Ginny and Remus with a softness to her face. He saw her eyes get lost within herself as she took in Draco’s sleeping body. Then her eyes met his. He saw the pain in her. The utter feeling of being lost obvious to any who knew what to look for.
She didn’t seem shocked to find him awake. She forced herself to smile slightly as she approached the bed. He noticed she was carrying a bowl of water and a rag was thrown across her shoulder. An air of authority and a sense of mothering seemed to crackle around her. She looked beautiful.
“Well, how are you feeling?” her soft voice asked. She set the water on the bedside table and sat next to him, her weight shifting the mattress slightly. They both froze as Draco started mumbling in his sleep, the movement having interrupted his dreams. After a moment he fell silent again and snuggled deeper into Fred’s side.
“Considering I woke up next to Draco Malfoy, not too bad,” Fred said lightly, his playfulness sounding cold and empty to his ears. He knew Hermione had heard it, but she ignored it.
“Yes well, that would be enough to frighten anyone,” she said softly, a genuine smile appearing fleetingly on her lips. She took the towel from her shoulder and dipped it gently into the water. She took it out and held it in her hands, her eyes downcast as though she were unsure of how to proceed. After a moment she looked back up at Fred and began to run the warm towel over his throbbing head.
Her touch was warm, gentle, loving, everything he didn’t wish to feel. He wasn’t allowed to feel these things any more. It was his punishment, his fate. She made him want to open up, to grab her and cry endlessly into her shoulder.
Hey eyes gently watched him, allowing him time to sort himself. “How did we end up at Remus’s?” Fred asked, desperate to break the silence.
At his question she had to stifle a laugh. “Next time you lot plan on going out on the piss while your family sits mourning the death of a loved one, let someone know first,” Hermione said, no accusations in her voice. “Your mother was in a frenzy. Ready to send the entire Ministry looking for all of you. Arthur and Charlie had to hold George down till we could calm everyone down enough to think.”
Fred ignored the tightness in his heart at the mention of his twin. “Yeah well, didn’t mean to worry anyone. Had to get out you know. The house was stifling us,” Fred said. His eyes closed as she brought the warm rag to his eyes.
He heard her sigh before she spoke. “Yes well, I don’t blame you. Neither does your father, or Bill for that matter. As for the others, well, being angry at you at least helps them focus on something other then the grief.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Fred said quietly.
“Ah yes, sorry. How did you lot end up here? Well, Bill and I took it upon ourselves to locate you. Had to calm Molly’s nerves. She thought you all had gone after Voldermort yourselves. One look at the empty bottle in the living room and well, wasn’t to difficult to figure out what you had in mind. Bill figured you wouldn’t want to go to a wizard pub considering you were with Malfoy and Harry,” Hermione told him as she took the towel from his eyes. She brought her fingers to his cheek and caressed it momentarily before dropping it to her lap.
Fred opened his eyes slowly and looked around the room once more. “Speaking of Harry…” he let the question go unfinished.
At his words Hermione glanced quickly at Draco and smiled. “Harry is out cold on the couch. When Bill and I finally located you all at the pub you had just blacked out. Long story short, we thought it best to bring everyone here instead of your house. It was also necessary to uh, hmm- separate Harry and Draco. It seems they have overcome their differences,” Hermione said, trying to hold back her amusement.
Memories of Draco and Harry embracing came into Fred’s head and he smirked at the thought. “Wonder if they will still love each other when Harry finds out Draco slept with me instead,” Fred said.
Hermione let out a loud string of laughs, unable to hold it in any longer. Fred watched her with his dead eyes and noticed the vibrancy that surrounded her. He knew she needed this release. It would help her.
“Oh Fred,” Hermione said, her laughter dwindling. She looked into his eyes and her laughter died. “Oh Fred,” she repeated; only this time her tone was somber. “Did it help? Did running away and drinking it all away help?” she asked, sincerely wanting to know.
Fred didn’t answer. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about it. He was saved further questions by the groan that escaped Remus’s mouth across the room. They both turned to watch as the werewolf slowly woke. He stretched his neck and looked down at the bundle in his arms. He gently pushed Ginny’s hair away from her face and a smile appeared on the sad man’s face. Ginny’s eyes slowly fluttered open and she smiled up at his scarred face. They hadn’t noticed their audience. Hermione and Fred felt as though they were intruding.
They were all saved from further embarrassment as Draco began to wake up, his groans of discomfort piercing the silence and causing everyone’s eyes to fly to his body. “Oh Merlin,” they heard him mutter as he tightened his grip around Fred’s torso. He mumbled something into Fred’s chest that he was sure was ‘Granger.’
Suddenly laughter from three throats broke through the room and Draco’s eyes flew open. Fred watched as the Slytherin’s eyes traveled the length of the room finally resting on Hermione’s. “Hermione,” he whispered. Suddenly Fred felt Draco’s body stiffen. “Hermione!” Draco shouted as he realized that is was Fred he was snuggling with instead of the Gryffindor Princess.
They all watched as he flew out of the bed, his eyes looking everywhere other then at Fred. “What...huh…I mean,” Malfoy muttered as he tried to recall the previous night’s events.
“Don’t worry Draco,” Fred purred, “I was gentle with you.” The alarm that suddenly registered in the man’s eyes sent Ginny and Hermione into fits of giggles.
Draco glared at them momentarily before relief washed through his form. “Merlin Fred, that was cruel.”
“Yeah well, why pass up a perfect opportunity to torture you,” Fred said. He threw his legs over the bed and walked over to Ginny and Remus. He let his dead eyes meet the werewolf’s for a second before he turned his gaze to his sister. He didn’t say anything, he simply held out his hand to Ginny. He watched her hesitate before one side of the inner battle within her won out. She reached out and allowed her older brother to help her up.
“That him then?” came a voice from the doorway. They all turned to see Harry standing there wrapped in a pink, flowery blanket. His eyes were locked onto Ginny’s. Fred felt her grip tighten momentarily in his.
“Harry…” Ginny began, her eyes traveling between Remus and Harry, but let his name die on her lips.
Harry held his hand up. “It’s fine Gin. After all, I have me my own man who loves me,” he said as he winked at Draco before turning and leaving the room.
Fred watched as Malfoy went pale. Hermione stood and cleared her throat. “Look, get yourselves cleaned up. Bill went back to the Burrow last night to tell Molly and Arthur you were all okay. I made some food if you think your stomachs can handle it,” she said, her gaze finally landing guardedly on Draco’s. Unspoken words falling between them.
“Yeah, I could eat,” Fred said before he turned and left the room. He made his way through the hallway and found Harry sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes staring off into the distance, a single tear rolling down his face. Fred sat in the chair next to Harry as Ginny and Remus entered the kitchen. The table was piled with food but Fred thought it all looked like ash.
He heard the muffled voices of Hermione and Draco in the other room. He watched unfeeling as the others attempted to chew their food. He heard the rain pouring down. He felt the sudden urge to get revenge. Everything was different now. One quick action had taken away everything they had known. He wanted to kill them all, all those wizards who felt they could take away his world. Fred sat at the table contemplating how he would get his revenge as the others ate their lunch.
A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls.
Nothing had changed.
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A/N: Okay folks. That was the necessary Utility Chapter that needed to be written concerning everyone’s grief. I hope it wasn’t too boring for your taste. As for the next chapter, well it should be up in a few days, already have half written so no more waiting a month! Next Chapter: Hermione/Draco interraction!
Love, Ally
“Get up and dance - Get up and smile
Get up and drink to the days
that are gone in the shortest while
Oh get up and dance - Get up and smile
Get up and drink to the ones
who are gone in the shortest while
I sing my sorrow
Yeah I sing my sorrow”
-One For The Road by Ocean Colour Scene (one of the best songs written about grief, in my opinion.)
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Chapter 20: Fix You
Summary: Feeling even more guilty then usual, Draco watches as the dead get buried.
A/N: After a way too long hiatus I present the next chapter. Hope it lives up to your standards. A million thank you’s to LORETT for betaing!
SUGGESTION: you may wish to go back and at least read the last chapter or so seeing as it has been SOOOOOOO long!
Last time on ‘A Reason’:
Harry held his hand up. “It’s fine Gin. After all, I have me my own man who loves me,” he said as he winked at Draco before turning and leaving the room.
Fred watched as Malfoy went pale. Hermione stood and cleared her throat. “Look, get yourselves cleaned up. Bill went back to the Burrow last night to tell Molly and Arthur you were all okay. I made some food if you think your stomachs can handle it,” she said, her gaze finally landing guardedly on Draco’s. Unspoken words falling between them.
“Yeah, I could eat,” Fred said before he turned and left the room. He made his way through the hallway and found Harry sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes staring off into the distance, a single tear rolling down his face. Fred sat in the chair next to Harry as Ginny and Remus entered the kitchen. The table was piled with food but Fred thought it all looked like ash.
He heard the muffled voices of Hermione and Draco in the other room. He watched unfeeling as the others attempted to chew their food. He heard the rain pouring down. He felt the sudden urge to get revenge. Everything was different now. One quick action had taken away everything they had known. He wanted to kill them all, all those wizards who felt they could take away his world. Fred sat at the table contemplating how he would get his revenge as the others ate their lunch.
A fire crackled somewhere in the background. Thunder was rolling in the distance. Weeping seeped through the thin walls.
Nothing had changed.
And now…………..
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It was raining. It seemed to always be raining these days. Draco attempted to remember when it hadn’t been raining. It didn’t matter. It was raining today, and today was something he sincerely wished he could just miss. Today was something he was not prepared to handle.
He had borrowed one of Remus’ tatty black dress robes and though it had started off too large for his frame, the rain soon plastered it to his pale skin in a sickening combination of velvet and wetness. Draco could barely remember the feel of silk and satin, the finest tweeds. No, they were distant memories now.
But it didn’t matter. None of that did.
He continued staring at the muddy ground in front of him hoping that the wind would go on blowing, drowning the sounds of sobs and words of farewell. This was not where he was meant to be. He did not belong.
But none of that mattered. He was here, now, and he wouldn’t leave until she did.
A slight movement to his left made him turn. Harry’s glasses were covered in large droplets of rain, shielding his eyes from the funeral before him. He hadn’t said a word all day. Hadn’t even looked at anyone all day. His pain was written on his face for the world to see. Like Draco, Harry had chosen to stand beyond the others, slightly removed from the mourning group. Draco looked up and thought that maybe ‘mob’ would be more the appropriate term.
An amazing amount of people had turned up to watch Ronald Weasley be buried. More than any of them had imagined. Draco felt a slight twinge as he thought of his own death. Would anyone even come? Would anyone even bury him? His gaze found its way to Hermione and he watched her, standing there next to George while holding Fred’s hand. You could tell the difference between the twins now. No one would ever mistake the two again. As he watched her, he thought that yes, someone would see him buried. Someone at least would care if he died.
As the rain continued to beat down on the beautifully carved casket, Draco’s gaze fell upon Bill Weasley, his savior from alcohol and affairs with Harry Potter. Draco thought back to yesterday when he had actually met the forceful wizard.
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(flashback)
The door closed as the others dragged themselves to the kitchen. Draco felt the pounding behind his eyes and thought that maybe this time he had indeed drank just a little too much. A small sigh from across the room brought his eyes shooting up to lock onto Hermione’s. He stood frozen as surely as if she were Medusa. ‘Maybe she is,’ he thought bitterly. She certainly turned his insides to stone every time her eyes met his and felt his flesh sear at her glance.
He swallowed audibly and watched as she smiled a small smile that did not reach her eyes.
“Certainly in love with a lot of people these days, aren’t we, Draco. One might think you had a problem with committing. If you’d be happier with Harry, you can have him. But I’m taking the dog and the Manor,” she told him in her most matter-of-fact tone.
For his part Draco stood with his mouth hanging open as a million memories flashed through his head.
(flashback within a flashback!)
He tore his mouth away from hers, his forehead resting against hers as he panted, his lungs screaming for oxygen. His mind still intoxicated with the taste of her and the feel of her hard-soft body beneath his. He leaned forward and placed a soft, almost chaste kiss against her hot mouth. “Merlin, I love you Hermione,” he whispered against her lips. She gasped.
Suddenly Draco’s eyes shot open. He saw her own eyes staring back at him in surprise and wonder. His words came crashing back into his now sober brain and his entire body stiffened.
“What?” Hermione whispered, her hands frozen in his hair.
(end flashback within a flashback!)
The memory smashed into his already aching skull and Draco Malfoy thought his luck had finally run out. “You remember that huh?” he asked quietly, carefully.
Hermione let out a short laugh. ˜It’s not everyday a man tells me he loves me,” she said softly, her eyes sparkling from grief or amusement, he couldn’t tell.
“Look, Hermione, what I said, it’s, I was, I am,” Draco tried to put his thoughts, his fears into words but found his brain was unable to make a connection with his mouth. Before he could make a fool of himself even further, she interrupted.
“Don’t,” she said, her eyes pinning him. “This has been a very trying couple of weeks, Draco and I am done with the secrets, lies, plots, and stolen moments. I am a smart witch. I know when a man is looking at me with more than lust in his eyes. And don’t you dare try and say you didn’t mean what you said. Neither of us is stupid. Don’t act like we are.”
“But I am, Hermione. Don’t you see that?” he asked, his voice pleading. “I’m stupid to think I could fit into this life you live. Stupid to think I could waltz back through the open door like nothing had ever happened. Stupid to think people would accept it. Even stupider to think no one would get hurt.” Draco took a deep breath, his words floating around the room making his head spin. “It doesn’t matter now anyway, Hermione. Don’t you see that? Whatever I feel, whatever I felt, I am too far gone. I’m flawed, broken, and because of this I have brought death to your lives and will probably bring my own before this is over. I have hurt you too much already, I think. To make you think I feel something; to hope you might return that, would just make things worse when the end comes.”
Hermione felt her breath rise up and down in her chest allowing his words to process. She remembered the impassioned and torn boy who had cornered her in the library, remembered the feel of his warm breath on her face. The pain in his eyes. The fear. She thought maybe he had always been broken, more so than the rest of them. He had never had anyone to pick up the pieces. Had never wanted anyone to, until he had tried to kill a girl so many years ago.
She reached out her hand as though to push back his pain from across the room. His eyes were furnaces of emotion, his body radiating the tension she knew he must be feeling. “Draco, please don’t push me away. Not anymore.” She took a deep breath and prepared her next words through a haze, not allowing her mind to linger on them. “Ron is dead, so many are already dead. We grew up in the middle of a war. No one should suffer that alone. Stop forcing yourself to. Let me help with the pain. Let me try,” Hermione pleaded, taking a step closer to him.
“You can’t fix this, Hermione!” Draco shouted his voice full of desperation and loneliness. “You can’t fix me! I’m broken. Hell we all are,” he spat, sitting down onto the edge of the bed, his hand running tiredly through his messy hair. “Sometimes people can’t go back to how they were. Sometimes it’s too late.”
Silence settled over the room. He couldn’t look up at her. She made him reveal too much, far too much. Hermione just stood staring at a point past him, her thoughts running too quickly through her mind to grab one. The silence stretched, twisted, threatened to break over them.
“Why did you come back, Draco?” Hermione finally whispered.
“You’ve asked me this already, Hermione,” Draco replied, his eyes still focused on the wonders of the Oriental rug at his feet.
“Yes, yes I have, but I want to hear your answer again,” she said firmly. Her body seemed to move forward of its own accord. She found herself standing before a broken creature. The woman in her wanted to gather him in her arms and never let go, not this time. She wanted to run her fingers through his silky hair kiss him and tell him they would all be fine. But she hadn’t allowed herself to be just a woman in a very long time. She couldn’t allow herself to be now.
Draco Malfoy was right. They were all broken, some more than others, but still broken. The war had made them all tired. She feared that at the end of it all, assuming she made it, she would be nothing more than an empty shell. Draco Malfoy very much feared he already was.
He took a deep breath to steady the dizziness the hangover and her presence were causing him.
“Hermione,” but Draco never had a chance to finish what he was about to say as a sharp knock was heard from the door. His eyes flashed momentarily and he leaned forward as though reluctant to give up their solitude. But Hermione knew the real world was waiting to take over again. Would she never get more than five minutes with him?
“Come in,” she said to the door.
Bill stood in the doorway his eyes taking them in with one quick, precise sweep. “Just got back from the Burrow. Thought you should know the funeral is tomorrow,” he said crisply, delivering his news in a swift, forceful way that made both Hermione and Draco feel as though a mighty wind had just blown through the room and left just as fast.
“Okay, Bill,” Hermione said, trying to keep a part of herself from really processing what he had said. “Okay. Did you tell the others”
“Yeah. Fred and Harry went back to help out and make amends for disappearing last night,” Bill answered, leaning his long, hard body against the door frame. Hermione sensed his weariness.
“Was she terribly upset? Your uh, mother that is?” Draco asked quietly, his question catching the other two off guard.
Bill took him in with that cold penetrating gaze before replying. “Yeah, had a fit she did,” he said, but then a slow smile spread across his face. “Did her good though, snapped her out of her feeling sorry. Made her focus on what needed to be done. Though I doubt Fred and Harry will escape her wrath. Think Ginny and Remus will be in for a bit too when they make their presence known later on,” Bill said and turned his head towards the kitchen. A look of curious protectiveness was now present in his eyes as though he was trying to process what to do about his little sister’s new relationship.
“You should leave it be, Bill. She’ll need him now more than ever,” Hermione warned.
Bill nodded once and then brought his gaze back to the other occupants of the room. I suppose you’re right, Hermione. You usually are. So, Draco Malfoy, Bill Weasley.” Bill introduced himself and held out his hand as he walked to stand in front of the rather haggard looking wizard.
Draco stared dumbly at the hand in front of his face. Surprised did not even begin to describe how he felt. “Never actually been properly introduced,” Bill explained, waving his hand in front of Draco’s stunned face.
Remembering his upbringing - and the fact that this man was offering him a gesture of goodwill, when only yesterday he had helped carry his Brother’s dead body home - Draco stood up and grabbed Bill’s hand in a strong grip. “Nice to meet you, Bill,” Draco said firmly.
“Never thought I would say this, but nice to meet you too,” Bill almost laughed while shaking Draco’s hand vigorously. Bill let go and suddenly his face became serious. “Now come on you two, a lot needs to be done today.” And with that he turned and left the room. Draco swore he could feel the blast of wind again. He decided Bill was a force. Simply that. The man swept into a room and swept back out. While in the room each look, each word had a power behind it. He had accepted Draco with hardly any explanation and Draco respected that. He decided he liked Bill Weasley.
“What are you smiling at?” Hermione asked from just below him. Draco looked down into her eyes.
“He is an interesting man,” Draco replied quietly.
Hermione allowed herself a soft smile and a nod. ˜Yes, yes he is.” She paused, “We aren’t done talking about this, Draco. Don’t think you get to escape this conversation. But right now we have to go plan my best friend’s funeral. You might think you don’t need me, but I need you right now. Do you understand? I can’t break down. I have to be strong for them, and I need you to help me with that,” she said in a firm voice. Draco felt his mouth open, but before he could get a word in, he felt her soft hand slide into his. She turned and left the room leading him to some unknown.
(End flashback)
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She hadn’t let go of his hand for the rest of that day. It had been a new experience for Draco, having to plan a funeral. Watching these people and realizing just how much Ronald Weasley had been loved. He was thankful that Hermione had continued to hold onto him, though he realized now that by the end of the day it had been him holding onto her.
Sudden movement brought Draco’s gaze back up to the funeral. People were starting to move away. It must be over. So lost in his thoughts had he been that he hadn’t noticed the proceedings. He watched as Hermione hugged both Molly and Arthur in turn before turning and burying herself in Fred’s arms. He watched as Harry stood slightly removed, just as he himself was, his eyes still focusing on nothing. Remus slowly made his way over to stand beside Draco, Ginny Weasley attached to his arm, looking at Harry in concern.
“He hasn’t said a word,” Ginny stated.
“No, not since yesterday morning at your flat Remus,” Draco answered, turning his gaze back to Harry.
“Maybe I should...” Ginny began to say, taking a short step toward Harry.
“Just let him be, for now,” Draco stopped her with his words, his eyes locking onto the youngest Weasley. She returned his stare and must have seen understanding there for she nodded softly and turned back to Remus, wiping some rain from her black robes. Draco understood what was going through Harry’s mind. He had been there himself once before. The Boy-who-lived would come back to them all when and if he wanted to.
Bill had joined their little gathering bringing with him Hermione. She too stood staring at Harry as though wondering if she should approach him but then thought better of it and turned back towards them.
“They’re all heading back to the house, to get out of the rain, eat some food. Your mum is worried she won’t have enough for everyone who shows up,” Hermione said to Ginny.
“I’m sure it will be sufficient. Not very hungry myself,” Ginny replied, her hand reaching out to clasp Hermione’s. Draco cringed at the show of affection; the show of mourning...It was all his fault.
He felt a presence behind him and they all turned to watch Fred walk up. His eyes locked onto Harry behind them and then moved to his sister’s. Draco watched as Ginny winced slightly at the lack of emotion in her brother’s eyes. He felt his heart clench. He turned his head slightly only to confront the gaze of Hermione. So many questions lived there, in her eyes.
He couldn’t hold it in any longer. All the guilt that had been eating at him as he had sat listening to the Weasley’s plan a funeral for one of their own, now pushed at his insides. The dead look in Fred’s eyes made him feel darker and dirtier then he had ever felt before in his life.
“It’s my fault Ron is dead. You all know it. If I hadn’t come Back...” Draco’s voice trailed off.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Fred said, his voice dead and his eyes deader. “If you hadn’t come back Ron would probably still be alive. Hermione would probably be dead though,” he said pointing a finger at the stunned witch. Draco’s head shot up. ˜You would never have gone to her flat and that wizard would have killed her. Then what? Huh?” Fred allowed his gaze to take them all in. “Who would have died then looking for revenge? Harry? Ron? Me?”
Fred took a step toward Draco. “Listen to me and listen to me well, Draco Malfoy. It doesn’t matter if you came back or not. People were going to die. People probably still will,” Fred almost whispered. Ginny shook her head as though to deny it, but her eyes held the truth. Remus reached out a hand to comfort her but drew it back unable to find comfort himself. Bill just stared at his brother, a hundred deaths playing before his haunted eyes.
“He’s right,” Harry spoke up startling the others. His voice was defeated, tired sounding. They hadn’t seen him approach. Harry took his glasses off and tried to clear the rain from them for the first time since they had arrived at the graveyard. His eyes still would not meet anyone else’s. “We can’t change it, any of it. It’s too late to fix the past.”
“I’m so sorry,’ Draco whispered, his eyes pools of self-pity and regret. A deep sense of failure and uncertainty began to envelop Draco. His eyes began to unfocus as his mind reeled at the reality of all that had occurred these past six years that had been directly related to him.
Suddenly Hermione walked up to Draco and a loud slap could be heard as her hand connected with his face. The rain making it sting that much more. Draco barely moved or blinked. He expected it. He felt he deserved it. His eyes finally came back into focus on her feet, the black of her shoes covered in brown mud.
“You look at me,” she said, “Look at me!” It was the pain in Hermione’s voice that made Draco look up at her. Her eyes were red and her hair was plastered in wet curls to her face. Her bottom lip quivered and her hands were balled into fists. She was beautiful.
“I have had it with your pity party. So what, you’re broken! We all bloody are. You are not weak! Don’t you dare start losing it now. Not after everything. I might not be able to fix you, Draco Malfoy,” Hermione spat out, “but damnit we are going to fix this.” She stood - her body quivering or shivering from the rain, it was unclear - her finger pointing down to Ron’s grave. “Do you hear me?” her words cold and carrying to the others as her eyes traveled to each of them. “We are going to fix this, even if we lose ourselves in the process. They will pay for what they have taken. We will make them pay.”
“They will wish they had never touched Ron,” Fred agreed quietly, though his words held such pain and anger.
“We’ll kill them all,” Harry laughed, his words holding a hint of madness in them. His eyes locked with Draco and Draco stepped back from the truth he found there. For the first time Draco Malfoy truly understood Harry Potter.
The man had nothing left to lose.
Harry had just buried his best friend. His mortal enemy had reappeared to take away the woman he loved. The only other woman in Harry’s life had found companionship in the arms of the only link to his dead parents.
Draco Malfoy realized that Harry Potter was utterly and completely alone.
And for the first time, Draco was scared of him.
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A/N: Well? I know I know. Dark and all. This was very hard to write after so long so please allow me to get back into stride! Okay I have a million thank you’s but due to the rumour going around about not be allowed to do that anymore I will just generally say how much I love all of you and thank you sooo much for sticking with me through this!
Also. The chapter format may be a tad confusing. But the first flashback, Draco-Hermione-Bill, takes off just after the last chapter when Harry, Fred, Ginny, and Remus leave the room after their drunken night out.
The flashback within the flashback is from the chapter: boulevard of Broken Dreams, when Draco runs through the mansion for a kiss and an I love you before he, Fred, and Remus take off for the fortress of evil.
Not much takes place in this chapter but it was necessary to have to funeral before I can move forward. A lot had to be said.
NEXT UP: Chapter 21: Silent Revelations (already finished! woohoo)
A little interlude and then...No more playing around. The battle is on and someone, if not everyone is going to pay. Let the action begin and the running away stop. Plus, does Hermione finally corner Draco and get a bit more out of him than excuses? (hmm just smile)
Love, Ally
‘Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try To fix you’
-Coldplay