The Internal Devices

Chapter 34

"Get out, Granger." It was a low warning. She knew she was tiptoeing a line and didn't care. For some reason, she wanted so badly to infuriate him further. To expel some of her own uneasiness from the day by throwing it in his face. So she took another step in his direction, ignoring his request.

"Oh no, does the little snake need some alone time? Was the big adult meeting today too much for his delicate sensibilities? Oh dear...whatever shall we do?" She flung her arms widely as she mocked him.

"Get out," he growled.

"No." She replied stubbornly, creeping ever closer. This anger was intoxicating; it was far too soon to let go of it. She needed more, more, more. As she stepped ever closer, she watched the slivers of grey slide into place in his eyes, and she was suddenly burning inside. She clucked in prissy disapproval, a perfect imitation of Professor Mcgonagall as she pointed to his eyes. "Oh Draco, what would Theo think of you now?"

She watched the change come over him as if it were in slow motion. All at once, the straggling pieces of grey dissolved, leaving a vibrant blue. A vicious blue. And at once, she knew she had pushed him too far.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

The explosion of sound was so unexpected Hermione leapt back, heart-racing. She stumbled over the rug and fell onto the ground panting. The second Draco registered her terrified expression, he crumpled to the floor, hands fighting for purchase. He was shaking, and reached out for her vaguely, but didn't move any closer.

"Gods, Hermione I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he panted. All of Hermione's anger fizzled out. Usually, when she ran out of rage, she was left with an empty hollowness, but this time, that hole filled with overwhelming sadness. Sadness for him. She couldn't look away.

Draco shuddered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...I didn't mean to frighten you. I'm not him. I'm not him. I swear I'd never hurt you–"

"Draco." She tried to interrupt him, couldn't stand the raggedness in his voice, knew he was desperately trying to show her he wasn't Ron. But she knew that already.

"I'm not him," he raised his eyes pleadingly, still extending his hand, "I'm not him–"

"Draco, Draco I know. I know. It's alright. You only startled me." She crawled over to him, taking his cheeks in her hands. He continued to mutter the same words over and over, and she didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to stop this, how to fix them.

"I'm not him." His voice finally broke, and Hermione realized he didn't mean Ron anymore.

"I know you're not Theo," she whispered. His eyes shot up to meet hers, and his total despair hit her forcefully. His eyes were begging on their knees for a way to turn back time. They were cursing at the world for the lot he'd been given in life.

Draco murmured something so low she missed it. She gently asked him to repeat himself, and this time she understood. It should have been me.

Hermione sucked in a breath. "No, Draco, don't ever say that."

He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning his forehead on hers. "Don't pretend you don't wish he were here instead of me. I wish it too." She couldn't help it then. She closed the space between them, straddling her legs around his waist and crushing him in a hug. She felt him tense in surprise, but then he melted into her, dropping his chin on her shoulder.

"I miss him, Draco. I miss him terribly. Every second of every day I miss him, but never once have I regretted being here with you." He tried to interrupt but she covered his mouth with a hand. "The truth is, you make this so much easier. When I start being overcome with grief, I turn around and see you. Somehow, you make me feel like I'll be okay someday. So don't ever think I wish you weren't here, because I would be mourning just as much if it had been you I lost instead."