The Dark Side (A Dramione Story)

Chapter 18

Overcome by panic, sheturned back towards the way she had come, her hand outstretched for the handleof Draco's bedroom door. But then she heard something else. Although it was stifled by the walls between them, she could hear that the person outside was sobbing.

Her curiosity trumped her fear, so she slowly turned and continued down the hall towards the common room door. When she reached it, she rested her ear against the cold stone and called out with a quivering voice, "Who's there?"

"Mione?" The intruder exclaimed, sounding relieved. The nickname, pronounced in such a disheartened tone, made her eyes prickle with tears. She unlocked the door and saw a harrowing figure crumpled in a ball on the floor, his sobs making his body convulse horrifyingly.

"Oh, Ron," she murmured, bending down to pull his hands away from his face, noticing that his breath reeked of alcohol. "What's the matter? Please come inside, talk to me."

She lifted him up to his feet, a feat that proved quite difficult due to the shakiness of his legs. He leaned all his weight on her as she shuffled into the common room and towards the lounge, holding onto her as though he was drifting in the middle of the ocean and she was the only life raft for miles.

"Ron," she said as they sat, "please tell me what's gotten you into this state, I can't bear to see you like this."

"I love you, Mione," his voice was slurred, but intoxication couldn't quash the sincerity of his words.

"I love you too, as my friend. Like I love Harry and Ginny."

"No," He said, the heavy conviction in his voice making him suddenly seem sober. "We're meant to be together, I know it. You know it, Mione, I know you do." He was looking into her eyes with such intensity that it felt like fire, burning her from the inside. But it wasn't the romantic kind of spark that you feel for the one you love, it was an agonising blaze that made her remorseful heart feel as though it would explode. His pain was laid bare for her to see, and she could no longer ignore the fact that she had hurt him beyond repair.

The truth was that Hermione had been the one to break it off, it certainly hadn't been a mutual decision. It was part of the reason she had locked herself in her bedroom at The Burrow all summer, she couldn't stand seeing his crestfallen expression he wore for days and then weeks after the deterioration of their relationship. The guilt had constantly gnawed at her stomach; she abandoned him just weeks after his brother had died, for her own selfish reasons. She just didn't see a future with Ron, and didn't want to carry on pretending otherwise.

This was how she had tried to justify her actions, but her efforts were in vain. Seeing Ron now made her hate herself for what she had done. After all her talk about moving forward from the war and sustaining peace instead of devastation, here she was wreaking more damage.

"I can't be with you Ron, we just weren't meant to be together. I'm unbelievably sorry for hurting you. But you have Lavender now, she's perfect for you, and she loves you so much."

"How can you say that?" His voice broke, and she felt her chest grow heavy with self-reproach. "You're the one who is perfect for me, if I'm not with you I don't want to be with anyone. I need you."

She began to shake her head but he placed a hand on each of her cheeks and held her still, his eyes locked on hers. He moved slow, slowly enough for her to pull away, but she didn't. His lips gently pressed against hers and while she didn't kiss him back, she didn't move away. But then his hands moved to her hair and his kiss became more urgent, again clinging to her as if she was the only thing keeping him alive.

She pulled her face away now, gasping. What had she done?

As she slid along the couch to put some space between them, she averted his eyes from him as she didn't want to see the heartbreak on his face. Instead her gaze drifted around the room, quickly falling on a figure leaning against the wall in the hallway, watching them.

Draco.