The snow fell lightly through the open window of Gryffindor tower and
Hermione Granger stared over the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry. She was all alone on Christmas Eve and it had to be the most
horrible feeling in the world. She had planned on staying at Hogwarts over
the Christmas break because her best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley,
were also supposed to be staying but then Ron's mum had invited the two
boys on a vacation to visit his brother Charlie in Romania and Hermione was
left utterly alone.
Hermione closed her window and stood up. "Even if I am alone on Christmas, I might as well eat," she figured and headed down the stairs to the Great Hall. Hogwarts was practically empty with only a few children roaming its large stone halls. Everyone had gone home for the holidays. Well, everyone but her. The tables in the Great Hall had been pushed to the side and a single table stood in the middle of the room, apparently the only one being used. Hermione sat down at the vacant table and a goblet of pumpkin juice popped up in front of her. She sipped it solemnly and took out her quill and parchment from her bag.
"Dear Harry and Ron, How are you? I just thought I'd drop you a note wishing you a Merry Christmas. Are you having fun in Romania? I'm sure you're taking lots of pictures for me like I asked (or at least now you are). I do hope you are having fun. Have a great vacation and see you in early January. Again, Happy Christmas. Love, Hermione"
"If I can't be there, I might as well send my best wishes for those who can," she sighed to herself and looked up from the letter. She gasped for air as her eyes met the cold blue-gray ones staring at her from across the table from her.
"Talking to yourself, eh, Granger? You know, that's not normal," Draco Malfoy sneered.
"Staring at people when they don't know you're there? That's sort of scary," Hermione folded up her piece of parchment and tucked it in her bag. "Are you here alone, too?"
"Besides you, obviously."
"No need to be rude about it," Hermione hung her head before gulping down the rest of her pumpkin juice. "Merry Christmas, Draco," she got up and left. She felt his eyes following her out of the Great Hall as she pulled on her cloak and walked outside.
She walked gently over the freshly fallen snow as if trying not to ruin the perfect blanket and sat down gently next to the pond and watched as the water rippled against the shore. A single teardrop made its way from her eye and she wiped it away forcefully. Hermione sat there, completely motionless until her Hogwarts-friendly watch told it her it time for dinner. She stood up reluctantly and walked back into the Great Hall where she took the first available seat, right across from Draco. His hand was rested palm-up on the table and Hermione saw cut marks characterizing his wrist.
"What are those?" Hermione asked tentatively. She wasn't sure, but for a second, she thought she saw a glimmer of fear in Draco's gray eyes. Then again, gray is a really easy color to misinterpret, she thought.
"I.tripped in the shower. Hit my arm on a razor blade. What's it to you?"
"Just curious," Hermione turned her attention back to the surface of the table.
"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Professor Albus Dumbledore entered the Great Hall cheerfully and took his place at the head of the table. Professors McGonagall and Snape followed him closely, both looking far less in the holiday spirit than the Headmaster. Dumbledore snapped his fingers and instantly a small feast filled the bowls in the middle of the table. Hermione helped herself to meager portions of everything, ate it slowly and then simply sat there, occasionally taking a sip of her drink to convince people she wasn't in a trance. Her mind couldn't stay in Hogwarts. It kept drifting off to her parents and to Ron and Harry and, every time she looked over at Draco, the cuts on his wrist. Had he been lying when he said they were an accident? It certainly didn't look like a slip on a razor blade.
Eventually the table cleared and with "Merry Christmas" called out behind them, everyone left. Still, Hermione sat there. At first she thought she was alone, but then she felt someone's eyes on her. She looked up and for the second time that day locked eyes with Draco over the table.
"Why are you still here?" she asked him suspiciously.
"Why are you?" he challenged.
"Thinking," Hermione looked back down at the table.
"I know you seem to think that no one else has the ability to think except for you, but I do have that right too and, even if I didn't, I could sit at the table."
"I never said you couldn't sit at the table."
"What the bloody hell are you so upset about? You've been moping around all day," Draco eyed Hermione.
"Tell me where you got those cuts and I'll tell you why I'm so upset." She was positive he wasn't going to answer truthfully; therefore, she wouldn't have to answer at all.
"I cut myself, happy?"
"What?" Hermione's face snapped up. "Why?"
"Release," he shrugged. "It's a way to get out anger frustration and disappointment," Draco replied in a monotone voice. "My God, doesn't anyone know about self-mutilation in this place. It's not all that uncommon."
"Draco.are - does - does anyone know?"
"Not until now," Draco pulled his robes further over his arms self- consciously. "Now what got you so down? Truthfully Granger, as if your face doesn't normally look deformed enough, do you have to add that grotesque expression?"
"No, I choose to look like hell, Malfoy. And to answer your first question, spending Christmas alone," Hermione blushed. Here Draco was admitting he was cutting himself for "release" and she was admitting that she was upset because she was alone on Christmas. "Doesn't that bother you?"
"No," Draco laughed. "It's better to be alone here than at home."
"Why?"
"Don't ask," Draco shot her a look that clearly said she was being particularly nosy, but it didn't stop her.
"Why are you so angry, frustrated, and disappointed?"
"Look, I really enjoyed this little heart to heart, but I prefer not to talk about me. I'm going to go back up to the common room. Merry Christmas, Hermione," Draco stood up and swept out of the Great Hall. Hermione sighed and looked at her watch, which told her she had two more hours until she had to be back to her dorm. She Stepped out of the entrance to the school and smiled as a snowflake landed on her nose.
She sat down on the front steps and watched the snow gently fall, thinking again about her family. The last Christmas they had together, they had gone outside to build snowmen. This Christmas, Hermione decided, I'll just build one myself. After about thirty minutes of work, a small snowman sat on the side of Hogwarts' entrance, guarding the castle. She laughed lightly at her deformed creation.
"May I ask what's so amusing, Granger?" a familiar voice came from behind her.
"Look around, Draco. No one is here to be fooled by your act and I'm not upset by it, so if you followed me to try to make my Christmas as horrible as yours, you might as well go back up to the Slytherin common room," Hermione spoke without ever turning around to face him. Something about his face intimidated her and she found herself much more confident when not forced to stare at it. "If you would stop spending so much time trying to make others miserable and looked around, you might see why I was enjoying my time to myself. It's Christmas and we're in one of the most amazing places on the earth. If you can't learn to enjoy that then go back up to your stone room and let me."
"How can you laugh at a snowman and act like I'm missing out on something?" he laughed snidely.
"It's not the snowman I'm laughing at, Draco. It was a laugh about this place and memories and.I don't know. It was a laugh showing how happy I was to be alive. You don't always need a reason to be happy."
"You're fooling yourself into thinking things are so much better than they really are, Granger," he said with a detectable hint of sadness in his voice.
"Maybe you're fooling yourself into thinking they're worse. Or maybe for you it actually is worse, but if you don't give things a reason to get better, they never will." Hermione stood up straight and walked up the steps to where Draco was. "To actually live is a choice. One I don't think you've made yet," she told him straight to his face and with that she went back into the castle.
Draco just stood there, staring at her back. He shook his head unbelievably and began walking up to his common room. Later that night, he picked up a piece of parchment and a quill and began expressing his emotions the only way he knew how. He wrote.
Something is wrong
With the sum of us
That I can't seem to erase
How can I be
The only one
Without a smile on my face
When now
You're laughing out loud
At just the thought of being alive
And I was wondering
Could I just be you tonight?
You show your pain
Like it really hurts
And I can't even
Start to feel mine
And I'm standing in place
With my head first
And I shake, I shake, I shake
And I see your progress
Stretched out for miles
And miles
And you're laughing out loud
At just the thought of being alive
And I was wondering
Could I just be you tonight?
This is the sound I make
These are the words I chose
But somehow the right thing to say
Just won't come out
'Cause you're laughing out loud
At just the thought of being alive
And I was wondering
Could I just be you tonight?
I was wondering
Could I just be you
Tonight. (Matchbox 20, "Could I be You")
"How could someone be so happy just to be alive?" he wondered aloud to himself later that night as he held a pair of scissors in his hand. "I can barely stand it." He slowly slid the blade against his skin. When he was done, three new cuts were present on his arm and blood was dripping into the towel wrapped around his wrist. Everything seemed to flow out of him with the blood. His worries, his hatred, his pain."What's the point, they all come back - "before the small hint of a conscience in Draco Malfoy could finish its thought, he passed out on the bed.
Draco's eyes fluttered open slowly and the infirmary slowly came into view. Draco's eyes protested the white room and tried to close, but he forced them to stay open, trying to take in his surroundings. The door across the room opened slowly and the moving mass of brown hair Draco had become far too accustomed to over the past week entered the room with a tray of food in her hands.
"You're awake," she doubled back, surprised. "I brought you breakfast."
A bowl full of what looked like white mush was placed in front of him and he looked at it disgustedly. "What is it?"
"It used to be oatmeal, but Madam Pomfrey did something to it. I think she added a potion to help build your blood count," Hermione walked over to the bed next to his and sat down.
"Why would I need that?" he felt stupid being in the infirmary and not knowing the reason and having Granger bringing him his meals like a house elf.
"Look at your arm," Hermione nodded her head in the direction of the bandaged knob on the end of his arm. "Your knife slipped a little too far this time." Draco could see that she was appalled by the entire situation, but what would she know? She grew up in a pampered life with the hero of the century as her best friends and the top grades in Hogwarts. No pressure at all.
"You think that was an accident?" he chuckled. "God, Granger, you're not as smart as people give you credit for, are you?" He watched almost guiltily as Hermione's eyes went blank and a small drip of water passed almost unnoticed across her face. "What difference does it make to you? Why are you crying?"
"You could've died, Draco. Don't you see that? I know you don't think you're worth much, but to other people you are. No matter how rude you are to them, no matter how many times you put them down, people still care. I still care whether or not you take your own life because the life that was given to you is so full of opportunity and you just won't reach out and grab it. I want you to have that chance."
"Why do you bother caring for people who have made nothing but a negative influence on your life?" Draco snapped. "That's stupid. All you're doing is hurting yourself by being here, you see that don't you?"
"I care because if I don't, I'll end up like you; I'd be miserable, suicidal, and cold-hearted because I made the wrong decision. Compassion makes all the difference, believe it or not."
Draco was sitting there, staring up at her, trying to comprehend what she had just said when Madam Pomfrey came bustling in.
"Ms. Granger, what are you still doing in here? Mr. Malfoy needs his rest. Shoo, come on now," she hurried Hermione out of the door.
"Madam Pomfrey, could I just have two more minutes. Please? He's been resting for almost two days and I promise I'll leave after that," Hermione pleaded.
"Fine, but I'm counting the seconds," the agitated woman stalked back into her office. "Make it quick, Ms. Granger."
"Draco," Hermione began, "tell me what I can do to convince you to stop doing this. I'll do anything."
"Th -" Draco paused. "Keep caring. Then, I'll stop."
Hermione looked up, surprised. There was vulnerability about him lying there in the hospital bed, asking her to care. He seemed . almost humble when he admitted he needed someone. She smiled down at him, "Feel better, Draco. Merry belated Christmas, since you missed the real one." She walked into the hallway and closed the door behind her, now letting the tears fall freely.
Six days later, Harry and Ron returned to Hogwarts. Hermione was still acting strangely, but they barely noticed between all of their stories about dragons and Harry's going on about how he wanted a brother like Charlie. Hermione didn't really listen to half the things they said, but, as long as she threw in an occasional "yeah" or "that sounds like fun," they never noticed.
Classes picked up again two days later and Hermione was thankful for the distraction. She had cut her workload down a lot for her fifth year, so she got through her classes pretty easily except, of course, for the fact that Draco was in two of them. She didn't know what to do when Harry, Ron, and Draco starting throwing insults back and forth and she was supposed to care for both of them. Usually, she ended up in the middle and received a harsh comment from both sides, but she accepted it as the price to pay for compassion.
The quidditch season was almost over, much to Harry's dismay, and on Saturday the last game of the year was going to be played. Yet again, Gryffindor and Slytherin were going up against each other for the Quidditch Cup and both teams had been training like crazy, Gryffindor in the morning, and Slytherin in the afternoon. All of the players' nerves were high; people weren't eating and you could catch a few players training on their off days, zooming around the quidditch field like their lives depended on it.
"Harry," Hermione complained the morning before the game, "you have to eat. If not you're just going to get sick and have no energy and that's not going to do you any good." She picked up a bowl of cereal and held it out to him. "Finish this." Harry ate about half of the bowl and Hermione sat back and settled down, relieved he had at least eaten that much.
She looked across the Great Hall to where Draco was talking to the Slytherin captain and frowned. She didn't feel like she had been keeping up her end of the deal by caring for Draco very well. In fact, she hadn't said to words to him since the day in the hospital. Well, other than those said during a fight.
Ten minutes later, Harry and the rest of the Quidditch team left to get ready and soon after the rest of the school followed them and piled into the stands. Everyone was in high spirits for the big game; even Hermione was smiling as she took her place next to Hagrid and Ron.
Madam Hooch stepped onto the field and introduced the Slytherin team. The silver and green section of the stands cheered wildly while everyone else either sat perfectly still or booed, as usual when Slytherin played. When the Gryffindor team was introduced, however, the crowd erupted on three sides. The team members took their places and Hermione pulled out her omni oculars from the World Cup last year. She zoomed in on Harry, who was already watching the box at Madam Hooch's feet intently, and then on Draco, who sat upon his broom nonchalantly, not seeming to care about the game at all. "The story of his life," she mumbled to herself before moving her omni oculars back to Harry.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game began. The quaffle was thrown high into the air and Hermione lowered omni oculars so she could see what was going on with the quaffle. In ten minutes, the game was tied thirty-to- thirty and suddenly both Harry and Draco started on a breakneck dive toward the ground. They flew neck and neck until they evened out, level with the ground. Hermione watched amazedly at how gracefully each of them flew, even in the high-speed race that was going on. Then, for no reason, Harry's broomstick gave an unexpected jerk and it hit Draco's, throwing Draco to the ground. He landed on his neck and twisted abnormally on the ground.
Madam Hooch quickly ran onto the field and Harry landed next to Draco's broomstick and grabbed it with his empty hand, for in the other hand was the Snitch. Professor Snape stepped onto the field and put the limp body of Draco on a floating stretcher and led him up to, presumably, Madam Pomfrey with the guidance of his wand. Madam Hooch declared Gryffindor the winner of the Quidditch Cup and there was, again, an eruption of cheering from three sides of the field. Hermione was the only person in the Gryffindor stands who rushed down from the stands and to the castle; everyone else on the field was congratulating the Gryffindor team.
Hermione ran after Professor Snape's retreating back and caught up with them as Draco was turned into the infirmary. Professor Snape slammed the door in her face after he went in behind Draco. Hermione sighed and sat down next to the door, knowing that Snape's rudeness meant for her to leave them alone. After about an hour, both Snape and Draco walked out of the infirmary, Draco solemnly following Snape.
She stood up and Draco gave her a look that clearly said "not now."
"Is there a reason you have been sitting out here for an hour?" Professor Snape snapped at her.
"I just needed to talk to Madam Pomfrey and I didn't want to interrupt," Hermione lied. Behind Snape, Draco mouthed "I'll write you later."
"I guess I'll go in and talk to her now," Hermione ducked in the door and waited for Snape and Draco to leave before heading up to the library. For the first time since she took Muggle Studies, she went to section about emotions. She looked up depression and then self-mutilation. All of the books said the same thing. It's about release. It is an addiction. All you can do is love them and not push anything. "A lot of help you are," Hermione spoke to the book before putting it back on the shelf. She went back up to the Gryffindor common room where there was a party going on. Butterbeer bottles littered the floor and people were talking loudly. Hermione quickly congratulated Harry and went up to her dorm, uninterested in having anything to do with a party, especially over something that had hurt Draco.
She sat down on her bed and opened Incantations You Need to Know in her lap. Half way down the first page, a light tapping on the window interrupted her. She looked up to see a large brown barn owl holding a letter outside. She opened her window and it swooped down and left the letter on her bed before exiting.
Hermione,
Why were you for waiting for me after the game? Didn't you have celebrating to do? I was fine, just a torn ligament, but Madam Pomfrey fixed that. I was beginning to think you didn't care. I couldn't talk to you earlier because Snape was there.
Since I was in the infirmary the first time, my father put me into therapy. Mother's orders. I suppose he agreed because it would make him look like the arse he is if he didn't. He has to keep up that social image of being perfect, you know. I'm supposed to be on medication, but that is a crock. It's all an illusion. Just thought you should know that nothing was wrong after the game. Congratulations on Gryffindor winning the Cup, even if it was unfairly.
Draco Malfoy
Hermione took out her parchment and quill, eager to write back to Draco.
Draco,
Thank you for telling me that everything was okay. Of course I still care. I just don't know what to do when you, Harry, and Ron are bickering. How is therapy? Helping I hope. Why don't you take your medication? I know it seems stupid, but the doctor must've given it to you for a reason. I don't think Harry hit your broomstick on purpose, though I didn't get a chance to talk to him about it. Anyway, I hope you are doing well.
Hermione
Hermione got out of bed and went to send the letter to Draco. She ambled up to the owlry and tied the parchment to a school owl's leg. She then went back to the Great Hall since dinner was supposed to bestarting in twenty minutes. The Gryffindor table was still empty but Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin's were almost full. The party obviously hadn't ended yet. As she sat down, Harry and Ron walked in, talking excitedly. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Draco stand up at the Slytherin table and start walking towards them. She hopped up nervously and tried to reach Harry and Ron before Draco did, but it was no use.
"Knocked me off my broom on purpose, Potter? Knew it was the only way you could win?" The Great Hall went almost completely quiet and Draco's voice echoed off the walls.
"I don't know what happened, Malfoy. I lost control, but I didn't do it on purpose," Harry stared back at Draco, who was a good bit taller than him, with not a hint of fear in his eyes.
"Yeah right," Draco scowled. "Because of you, Slytherin lost the Quidditch Cup."
"No, you're wrong. You seem to think that you're better than anyone else, but you're so wrong. I'm better than you are. Face it," Harry practically yelled in his face. Hermione sat off to the side, watching nervously.
Draco laughed and lowered his voice so only Harry and Ron could hear, "Let's see. I challenge you to a duel on the last day of school in the astronomy tower. Midnight."
"Last time you challenged me to a duel, you didn't show. You chickened out and told Filch we were up there. How am I supposed to believe you this time?"
"I have something to prove this time. I will be there," Draco walked back to the Slytherin table and took his seat.
"Harry," Hermione rushed up to him. "Don't go. It's too dangerous. You could get hurt or get in trouble or both."
"Hermione, we've been though this before. I'm going."
Hermione closed her window and stood up. "Even if I am alone on Christmas, I might as well eat," she figured and headed down the stairs to the Great Hall. Hogwarts was practically empty with only a few children roaming its large stone halls. Everyone had gone home for the holidays. Well, everyone but her. The tables in the Great Hall had been pushed to the side and a single table stood in the middle of the room, apparently the only one being used. Hermione sat down at the vacant table and a goblet of pumpkin juice popped up in front of her. She sipped it solemnly and took out her quill and parchment from her bag.
"Dear Harry and Ron, How are you? I just thought I'd drop you a note wishing you a Merry Christmas. Are you having fun in Romania? I'm sure you're taking lots of pictures for me like I asked (or at least now you are). I do hope you are having fun. Have a great vacation and see you in early January. Again, Happy Christmas. Love, Hermione"
"If I can't be there, I might as well send my best wishes for those who can," she sighed to herself and looked up from the letter. She gasped for air as her eyes met the cold blue-gray ones staring at her from across the table from her.
"Talking to yourself, eh, Granger? You know, that's not normal," Draco Malfoy sneered.
"Staring at people when they don't know you're there? That's sort of scary," Hermione folded up her piece of parchment and tucked it in her bag. "Are you here alone, too?"
"Besides you, obviously."
"No need to be rude about it," Hermione hung her head before gulping down the rest of her pumpkin juice. "Merry Christmas, Draco," she got up and left. She felt his eyes following her out of the Great Hall as she pulled on her cloak and walked outside.
She walked gently over the freshly fallen snow as if trying not to ruin the perfect blanket and sat down gently next to the pond and watched as the water rippled against the shore. A single teardrop made its way from her eye and she wiped it away forcefully. Hermione sat there, completely motionless until her Hogwarts-friendly watch told it her it time for dinner. She stood up reluctantly and walked back into the Great Hall where she took the first available seat, right across from Draco. His hand was rested palm-up on the table and Hermione saw cut marks characterizing his wrist.
"What are those?" Hermione asked tentatively. She wasn't sure, but for a second, she thought she saw a glimmer of fear in Draco's gray eyes. Then again, gray is a really easy color to misinterpret, she thought.
"I.tripped in the shower. Hit my arm on a razor blade. What's it to you?"
"Just curious," Hermione turned her attention back to the surface of the table.
"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Professor Albus Dumbledore entered the Great Hall cheerfully and took his place at the head of the table. Professors McGonagall and Snape followed him closely, both looking far less in the holiday spirit than the Headmaster. Dumbledore snapped his fingers and instantly a small feast filled the bowls in the middle of the table. Hermione helped herself to meager portions of everything, ate it slowly and then simply sat there, occasionally taking a sip of her drink to convince people she wasn't in a trance. Her mind couldn't stay in Hogwarts. It kept drifting off to her parents and to Ron and Harry and, every time she looked over at Draco, the cuts on his wrist. Had he been lying when he said they were an accident? It certainly didn't look like a slip on a razor blade.
Eventually the table cleared and with "Merry Christmas" called out behind them, everyone left. Still, Hermione sat there. At first she thought she was alone, but then she felt someone's eyes on her. She looked up and for the second time that day locked eyes with Draco over the table.
"Why are you still here?" she asked him suspiciously.
"Why are you?" he challenged.
"Thinking," Hermione looked back down at the table.
"I know you seem to think that no one else has the ability to think except for you, but I do have that right too and, even if I didn't, I could sit at the table."
"I never said you couldn't sit at the table."
"What the bloody hell are you so upset about? You've been moping around all day," Draco eyed Hermione.
"Tell me where you got those cuts and I'll tell you why I'm so upset." She was positive he wasn't going to answer truthfully; therefore, she wouldn't have to answer at all.
"I cut myself, happy?"
"What?" Hermione's face snapped up. "Why?"
"Release," he shrugged. "It's a way to get out anger frustration and disappointment," Draco replied in a monotone voice. "My God, doesn't anyone know about self-mutilation in this place. It's not all that uncommon."
"Draco.are - does - does anyone know?"
"Not until now," Draco pulled his robes further over his arms self- consciously. "Now what got you so down? Truthfully Granger, as if your face doesn't normally look deformed enough, do you have to add that grotesque expression?"
"No, I choose to look like hell, Malfoy. And to answer your first question, spending Christmas alone," Hermione blushed. Here Draco was admitting he was cutting himself for "release" and she was admitting that she was upset because she was alone on Christmas. "Doesn't that bother you?"
"No," Draco laughed. "It's better to be alone here than at home."
"Why?"
"Don't ask," Draco shot her a look that clearly said she was being particularly nosy, but it didn't stop her.
"Why are you so angry, frustrated, and disappointed?"
"Look, I really enjoyed this little heart to heart, but I prefer not to talk about me. I'm going to go back up to the common room. Merry Christmas, Hermione," Draco stood up and swept out of the Great Hall. Hermione sighed and looked at her watch, which told her she had two more hours until she had to be back to her dorm. She Stepped out of the entrance to the school and smiled as a snowflake landed on her nose.
She sat down on the front steps and watched the snow gently fall, thinking again about her family. The last Christmas they had together, they had gone outside to build snowmen. This Christmas, Hermione decided, I'll just build one myself. After about thirty minutes of work, a small snowman sat on the side of Hogwarts' entrance, guarding the castle. She laughed lightly at her deformed creation.
"May I ask what's so amusing, Granger?" a familiar voice came from behind her.
"Look around, Draco. No one is here to be fooled by your act and I'm not upset by it, so if you followed me to try to make my Christmas as horrible as yours, you might as well go back up to the Slytherin common room," Hermione spoke without ever turning around to face him. Something about his face intimidated her and she found herself much more confident when not forced to stare at it. "If you would stop spending so much time trying to make others miserable and looked around, you might see why I was enjoying my time to myself. It's Christmas and we're in one of the most amazing places on the earth. If you can't learn to enjoy that then go back up to your stone room and let me."
"How can you laugh at a snowman and act like I'm missing out on something?" he laughed snidely.
"It's not the snowman I'm laughing at, Draco. It was a laugh about this place and memories and.I don't know. It was a laugh showing how happy I was to be alive. You don't always need a reason to be happy."
"You're fooling yourself into thinking things are so much better than they really are, Granger," he said with a detectable hint of sadness in his voice.
"Maybe you're fooling yourself into thinking they're worse. Or maybe for you it actually is worse, but if you don't give things a reason to get better, they never will." Hermione stood up straight and walked up the steps to where Draco was. "To actually live is a choice. One I don't think you've made yet," she told him straight to his face and with that she went back into the castle.
Draco just stood there, staring at her back. He shook his head unbelievably and began walking up to his common room. Later that night, he picked up a piece of parchment and a quill and began expressing his emotions the only way he knew how. He wrote.
Something is wrong
With the sum of us
That I can't seem to erase
How can I be
The only one
Without a smile on my face
When now
You're laughing out loud
At just the thought of being alive
And I was wondering
Could I just be you tonight?
You show your pain
Like it really hurts
And I can't even
Start to feel mine
And I'm standing in place
With my head first
And I shake, I shake, I shake
And I see your progress
Stretched out for miles
And miles
And you're laughing out loud
At just the thought of being alive
And I was wondering
Could I just be you tonight?
This is the sound I make
These are the words I chose
But somehow the right thing to say
Just won't come out
'Cause you're laughing out loud
At just the thought of being alive
And I was wondering
Could I just be you tonight?
I was wondering
Could I just be you
Tonight. (Matchbox 20, "Could I be You")
"How could someone be so happy just to be alive?" he wondered aloud to himself later that night as he held a pair of scissors in his hand. "I can barely stand it." He slowly slid the blade against his skin. When he was done, three new cuts were present on his arm and blood was dripping into the towel wrapped around his wrist. Everything seemed to flow out of him with the blood. His worries, his hatred, his pain."What's the point, they all come back - "before the small hint of a conscience in Draco Malfoy could finish its thought, he passed out on the bed.
Draco's eyes fluttered open slowly and the infirmary slowly came into view. Draco's eyes protested the white room and tried to close, but he forced them to stay open, trying to take in his surroundings. The door across the room opened slowly and the moving mass of brown hair Draco had become far too accustomed to over the past week entered the room with a tray of food in her hands.
"You're awake," she doubled back, surprised. "I brought you breakfast."
A bowl full of what looked like white mush was placed in front of him and he looked at it disgustedly. "What is it?"
"It used to be oatmeal, but Madam Pomfrey did something to it. I think she added a potion to help build your blood count," Hermione walked over to the bed next to his and sat down.
"Why would I need that?" he felt stupid being in the infirmary and not knowing the reason and having Granger bringing him his meals like a house elf.
"Look at your arm," Hermione nodded her head in the direction of the bandaged knob on the end of his arm. "Your knife slipped a little too far this time." Draco could see that she was appalled by the entire situation, but what would she know? She grew up in a pampered life with the hero of the century as her best friends and the top grades in Hogwarts. No pressure at all.
"You think that was an accident?" he chuckled. "God, Granger, you're not as smart as people give you credit for, are you?" He watched almost guiltily as Hermione's eyes went blank and a small drip of water passed almost unnoticed across her face. "What difference does it make to you? Why are you crying?"
"You could've died, Draco. Don't you see that? I know you don't think you're worth much, but to other people you are. No matter how rude you are to them, no matter how many times you put them down, people still care. I still care whether or not you take your own life because the life that was given to you is so full of opportunity and you just won't reach out and grab it. I want you to have that chance."
"Why do you bother caring for people who have made nothing but a negative influence on your life?" Draco snapped. "That's stupid. All you're doing is hurting yourself by being here, you see that don't you?"
"I care because if I don't, I'll end up like you; I'd be miserable, suicidal, and cold-hearted because I made the wrong decision. Compassion makes all the difference, believe it or not."
Draco was sitting there, staring up at her, trying to comprehend what she had just said when Madam Pomfrey came bustling in.
"Ms. Granger, what are you still doing in here? Mr. Malfoy needs his rest. Shoo, come on now," she hurried Hermione out of the door.
"Madam Pomfrey, could I just have two more minutes. Please? He's been resting for almost two days and I promise I'll leave after that," Hermione pleaded.
"Fine, but I'm counting the seconds," the agitated woman stalked back into her office. "Make it quick, Ms. Granger."
"Draco," Hermione began, "tell me what I can do to convince you to stop doing this. I'll do anything."
"Th -" Draco paused. "Keep caring. Then, I'll stop."
Hermione looked up, surprised. There was vulnerability about him lying there in the hospital bed, asking her to care. He seemed . almost humble when he admitted he needed someone. She smiled down at him, "Feel better, Draco. Merry belated Christmas, since you missed the real one." She walked into the hallway and closed the door behind her, now letting the tears fall freely.
Six days later, Harry and Ron returned to Hogwarts. Hermione was still acting strangely, but they barely noticed between all of their stories about dragons and Harry's going on about how he wanted a brother like Charlie. Hermione didn't really listen to half the things they said, but, as long as she threw in an occasional "yeah" or "that sounds like fun," they never noticed.
Classes picked up again two days later and Hermione was thankful for the distraction. She had cut her workload down a lot for her fifth year, so she got through her classes pretty easily except, of course, for the fact that Draco was in two of them. She didn't know what to do when Harry, Ron, and Draco starting throwing insults back and forth and she was supposed to care for both of them. Usually, she ended up in the middle and received a harsh comment from both sides, but she accepted it as the price to pay for compassion.
The quidditch season was almost over, much to Harry's dismay, and on Saturday the last game of the year was going to be played. Yet again, Gryffindor and Slytherin were going up against each other for the Quidditch Cup and both teams had been training like crazy, Gryffindor in the morning, and Slytherin in the afternoon. All of the players' nerves were high; people weren't eating and you could catch a few players training on their off days, zooming around the quidditch field like their lives depended on it.
"Harry," Hermione complained the morning before the game, "you have to eat. If not you're just going to get sick and have no energy and that's not going to do you any good." She picked up a bowl of cereal and held it out to him. "Finish this." Harry ate about half of the bowl and Hermione sat back and settled down, relieved he had at least eaten that much.
She looked across the Great Hall to where Draco was talking to the Slytherin captain and frowned. She didn't feel like she had been keeping up her end of the deal by caring for Draco very well. In fact, she hadn't said to words to him since the day in the hospital. Well, other than those said during a fight.
Ten minutes later, Harry and the rest of the Quidditch team left to get ready and soon after the rest of the school followed them and piled into the stands. Everyone was in high spirits for the big game; even Hermione was smiling as she took her place next to Hagrid and Ron.
Madam Hooch stepped onto the field and introduced the Slytherin team. The silver and green section of the stands cheered wildly while everyone else either sat perfectly still or booed, as usual when Slytherin played. When the Gryffindor team was introduced, however, the crowd erupted on three sides. The team members took their places and Hermione pulled out her omni oculars from the World Cup last year. She zoomed in on Harry, who was already watching the box at Madam Hooch's feet intently, and then on Draco, who sat upon his broom nonchalantly, not seeming to care about the game at all. "The story of his life," she mumbled to herself before moving her omni oculars back to Harry.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game began. The quaffle was thrown high into the air and Hermione lowered omni oculars so she could see what was going on with the quaffle. In ten minutes, the game was tied thirty-to- thirty and suddenly both Harry and Draco started on a breakneck dive toward the ground. They flew neck and neck until they evened out, level with the ground. Hermione watched amazedly at how gracefully each of them flew, even in the high-speed race that was going on. Then, for no reason, Harry's broomstick gave an unexpected jerk and it hit Draco's, throwing Draco to the ground. He landed on his neck and twisted abnormally on the ground.
Madam Hooch quickly ran onto the field and Harry landed next to Draco's broomstick and grabbed it with his empty hand, for in the other hand was the Snitch. Professor Snape stepped onto the field and put the limp body of Draco on a floating stretcher and led him up to, presumably, Madam Pomfrey with the guidance of his wand. Madam Hooch declared Gryffindor the winner of the Quidditch Cup and there was, again, an eruption of cheering from three sides of the field. Hermione was the only person in the Gryffindor stands who rushed down from the stands and to the castle; everyone else on the field was congratulating the Gryffindor team.
Hermione ran after Professor Snape's retreating back and caught up with them as Draco was turned into the infirmary. Professor Snape slammed the door in her face after he went in behind Draco. Hermione sighed and sat down next to the door, knowing that Snape's rudeness meant for her to leave them alone. After about an hour, both Snape and Draco walked out of the infirmary, Draco solemnly following Snape.
She stood up and Draco gave her a look that clearly said "not now."
"Is there a reason you have been sitting out here for an hour?" Professor Snape snapped at her.
"I just needed to talk to Madam Pomfrey and I didn't want to interrupt," Hermione lied. Behind Snape, Draco mouthed "I'll write you later."
"I guess I'll go in and talk to her now," Hermione ducked in the door and waited for Snape and Draco to leave before heading up to the library. For the first time since she took Muggle Studies, she went to section about emotions. She looked up depression and then self-mutilation. All of the books said the same thing. It's about release. It is an addiction. All you can do is love them and not push anything. "A lot of help you are," Hermione spoke to the book before putting it back on the shelf. She went back up to the Gryffindor common room where there was a party going on. Butterbeer bottles littered the floor and people were talking loudly. Hermione quickly congratulated Harry and went up to her dorm, uninterested in having anything to do with a party, especially over something that had hurt Draco.
She sat down on her bed and opened Incantations You Need to Know in her lap. Half way down the first page, a light tapping on the window interrupted her. She looked up to see a large brown barn owl holding a letter outside. She opened her window and it swooped down and left the letter on her bed before exiting.
Hermione,
Why were you for waiting for me after the game? Didn't you have celebrating to do? I was fine, just a torn ligament, but Madam Pomfrey fixed that. I was beginning to think you didn't care. I couldn't talk to you earlier because Snape was there.
Since I was in the infirmary the first time, my father put me into therapy. Mother's orders. I suppose he agreed because it would make him look like the arse he is if he didn't. He has to keep up that social image of being perfect, you know. I'm supposed to be on medication, but that is a crock. It's all an illusion. Just thought you should know that nothing was wrong after the game. Congratulations on Gryffindor winning the Cup, even if it was unfairly.
Draco Malfoy
Hermione took out her parchment and quill, eager to write back to Draco.
Draco,
Thank you for telling me that everything was okay. Of course I still care. I just don't know what to do when you, Harry, and Ron are bickering. How is therapy? Helping I hope. Why don't you take your medication? I know it seems stupid, but the doctor must've given it to you for a reason. I don't think Harry hit your broomstick on purpose, though I didn't get a chance to talk to him about it. Anyway, I hope you are doing well.
Hermione
Hermione got out of bed and went to send the letter to Draco. She ambled up to the owlry and tied the parchment to a school owl's leg. She then went back to the Great Hall since dinner was supposed to bestarting in twenty minutes. The Gryffindor table was still empty but Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin's were almost full. The party obviously hadn't ended yet. As she sat down, Harry and Ron walked in, talking excitedly. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Draco stand up at the Slytherin table and start walking towards them. She hopped up nervously and tried to reach Harry and Ron before Draco did, but it was no use.
"Knocked me off my broom on purpose, Potter? Knew it was the only way you could win?" The Great Hall went almost completely quiet and Draco's voice echoed off the walls.
"I don't know what happened, Malfoy. I lost control, but I didn't do it on purpose," Harry stared back at Draco, who was a good bit taller than him, with not a hint of fear in his eyes.
"Yeah right," Draco scowled. "Because of you, Slytherin lost the Quidditch Cup."
"No, you're wrong. You seem to think that you're better than anyone else, but you're so wrong. I'm better than you are. Face it," Harry practically yelled in his face. Hermione sat off to the side, watching nervously.
Draco laughed and lowered his voice so only Harry and Ron could hear, "Let's see. I challenge you to a duel on the last day of school in the astronomy tower. Midnight."
"Last time you challenged me to a duel, you didn't show. You chickened out and told Filch we were up there. How am I supposed to believe you this time?"
"I have something to prove this time. I will be there," Draco walked back to the Slytherin table and took his seat.
"Harry," Hermione rushed up to him. "Don't go. It's too dangerous. You could get hurt or get in trouble or both."
"Hermione, we've been though this before. I'm going."