HERMIONE
I scribble down words and numbers until my head spins; my eyes end up turning into slits as I try to finish the Transfigurations essay. I let out a tired laugh as Crookshanks prances past me, albeit silently to avoid the librarian's wrath.
I'm in the library, where the only company I have is a spider and some dust. The reason?
Head's common room: too uncomfortable. Scratch that, so awkward that I can't breathe sometimes. Gryffindor common room: too tense with Angela. I honestly never know what that witch is thinking - her pretty words and wide smiles reveal nothing.
And so I'm in the library, head bent and quill clenched. My stomach lurches and I realize I haven't eaten dinner. I almost briefly dismiss it, before I remember the harsh days when we ate nothing but mushrooms and berries. Ultimately, that played a large factor with Ron walking out.
I finish up the sentence, looking regrettably at the almost finished essay before taking the lantern and walking out. Madam Pince gives me an appraising look before letting me pass without comment.
I walk into the Great Hall, seeing that Harry and Ron have started eating dessert. I sit down next to them and nibble on some bread without really paying attention.
Ron smiles at me. My heart does a small skip, but that's it. I reassure myself that's it's just our love mellowing down into a more mature, stable, relationship, but I don't even believe the feeble lies I'm feeding myself.
When Harry looks at Ginny, there's a burning in his eyes. There's a love so strong and fierce that I know the fire will never burn out. When I look at Ron, I feel a tenderness that I have for Harry too. I love him; I really do.
But it's one of those first loves. First wild loves that burn bright and fast before dying out.
I force myself to think of something else, and end up with something more serious. I lower my voice so that the others around us can't hear. "Harry - Ron - did you hear about - " I begin.
Harry's face turns serious and his hand comes up in a reflexive movement to touch his scar. He's assured Ron and I several times that it doesn't hurt anymore, but old habits die hard.
"What?" says Harry.
"Nothing," I hurriedly assure. "Just something in the Prophet that's probably not true." I continue, absentmindedly fingering my plate. "They've rounded up several of the Death Eaters who tried to flee the country.
"Several of them surrendered and came back peacefully. Others fought. But they all ended up having a trial." I pause, watching him carefully. "All of them have been sentenced to life in Azkaban."
His face hardens and Ron looks down at his plate. I push on. "Do you - do you think that's fair - I mean, Azkaban is a terrible place... and even though the Dementors have been driven out.."
Ginny and Angela come in, apparently talking about something. I stop. "Let's just talk about this later," Ron says, casting a shifty look at his sister. I shrug.
We shift easily into another topic. But a faint sense of unease remains with me, and I can't figure out the reason of it.
"I have to finish my essay," I say eventually. I stand up, taking a treacle tart. Harry reaches out and looks disappointed when I wrap the last one in a napkin; I ignore him and wave goodbye.
When I say the password and walk in, the room is reflected in gray, not red. Confused, I hold my essay as I walk towards the fire.
What I see makes me stumble back in surprise.
The flames seem to have been frozen in time, and turned a gray, lusterless color. I see the individual embers suspended in air, the heat gone from the whole.
A chill runs through me, and I vaguely hear the quill falling to the ground from its position behind my ear. What magic would have occurred for this to happen?
I turn.
He stands there. He's holding a newspaper.
I give him and nod, and turn away, knowing that he'll respond in kind; we'll then ignore each other for the rest of the evening.
But he doesn't move.
My eyebrows raise. Then I hear him speak, something that hasn't happened since the last detention.
"They changed his sentence."
His voice is raspy from not talking for a long time. "Thirty years to a lifelong sentence." His face seems to crumple, eyes tightening. "As if my mother and I could handle any more." Draco laughs. No, Malfoy. "So all the other Death Eaters got life sentences - the Wizarding World obviously thinks it's fair for him to have the same."
I'm stunned. This is the longest speech I've heard from him since I stopped the dragon and we ended our friendship. He takes the silence for disapproval. His mouth presses together and he drops the newspaper on the ground, whirling away, before facing me again.
Draco's black cloak furls around him and he spits, "But that's the moral, isn't it.. Good guys win in the end, bad guys get punished so bad that they'll never get up again." I open my mouth, but nothing comes. I'm speechless. He stalks closer, silver steel eyes fixed on me. "Isn't it?" Something's pressing on my chest. To see him so vulnerable renders me unable to talk. "Isn't it?"
His face fills with an inhuman emotion and he screams, "ISN'T IT?"
Malfoy storms away, leaving me standing in the freezing common room silently.
My eyes sting from salt. From tears. I've cried enough for a lifetime. But even though I think that, they still come.
I lean down and numbly take the quill. I cast one more look at the fire, beautifully and terribly frozen, and sit down at a couch. I unfurl the crumpled parchment and begin writing numbly.
The dispute of the fourth law made several wizards and witches leave the...
•D•R•A•M•I•O•N•E•
When I get my essay handed back, it's almost a fail. The Acceptable stares up at me and I grit my teeth. Every time I see him, it's a fresh reminder. A slap in the face.
I can't stop, though. I can't stop thinking about Malfoy.
The unfairness of it all makes me dot the i on my name ferociously. Ron gives me a side look, which I ignore.
Everything we've been through isn't enough. No, the universe has to make me miserable in the process.
If there's one good thing, it's that Angela seems to at least be treating me with a little more civilness.
I'm seized by a sudden inspiration. I care for Ron... I care for Dr - Malfoy...
"Ron," I say suddenly, turning to him. The buzz of the other people in the common room doesn't mask my voice, and he turns to me, albeit warily, eyeing the quill in my hand.
I hastily set it down onto the table and say quietly, "Kiss me."
I hear an intake of breath and a shuffling. Without looking, I know Angela's left. I ignore the opening of the door and focus my attention on him. I don't have time to worry about her right now.
Harry coughs. I've never been one to openly say things like that. "Don't start snogging each other in public," he says, sounding appalled. I ignore him.
"Hermione," says Ron, looking confused.
"Just - "
I lean forwards and press my lips to his.
Warmth blossoms in my chest, and my heart leaps. I move closer, wrapping my arms around him. Yes. Yes.
But besides the momentary heat filling my heart, and head, nothing else happens. The fire I have with him is almost akin of a hurricane to a wind.. An inferno to a candle.
Sadness fills me and somehow Ron can tell something's shifted in me.
We move apart and he looks at me uncertainly. "'Mione?" Ron says.
Harry's looking at me too, now. "Hermione - " he says, green eyes searching my face.
Momentary desperation fills me and I say, "What did you feel, Ron?"
Understanding dawns on his face and he scratches the back of his neck. "Hermione, you know that I love you" - at the look on my face, he relents " - all right, it was great, okay? I love everything about you. You're a great kisser." He continues, seeing the look on my face not leaving. "You're perfect, Hermione Granger."
His voice turns urgent, serious. "And, Hermione, whatever you hear, or believe, know that I will never leave you. I love you eternally. Forever."
I smile weakly.
He stands up and says, "I have to go see something."
I watch him leave the common room absentmindedly. Then my eyes widen.
Hermione, whatever you hear...
Whatever you hear...
I love you forever.
Forever.
"Angela," I whisper.
I look at Harry to see that he's talking to Ginny. Something floods into my fingers, icy and unforgiving.
I stand up and move out of the common room. I hear someone call my name, but don't stop.
I move faster, following the faint footsteps through the corridors. Finally, they fade away and I stop in a hallway of unused classrooms.
This can't happen. It won't. I don't believe myself.
A whisper.
A protest.
A sigh.
My eyes close almost completely, and I move towards the only classroom with a closed door.
With a shaking hand, I murmur a spell.
The door slams open.
Ron and Angela whirl around to see me standing there. Their hands are entwined.
"It's not what you think - " Ron's saying.
"Hermione, I'm sorry, it's not what you believe - " Angela's face is filled with remorse.
"Hermione, I swear, this isn't a - "
I walk away.
I hear footsteps and a hand grips my arm.
"Hermione, you do know that I love you - only you - "
I let out a laugh. "Oh, Ronald. Of all the lies you've spoon fed me... That's the one that I hate the most."
He stands there as I walk faster.
Then Angela's running up to me. "Hermione, I honestly - I am trying to be nicer - I didn't ask him this time, he just came up to me - "
I walk. And walk. I walk so fast that eventually I have cramps. I walk so fast that she ends up wheezing and getting stitches. I walk so fast that I end up at the Slytherin common room, then at the Ravenclaw entrance, then at the Head's common room.
Forever...
I love you forever...
Remember that.
I love you forever.
Forever.
Only forever never seems to last that long.
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If anyone's confused, please reread the chapter 'She's Different' to refresh your memory about Draco's father.
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