Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun shone a bit brighter without all that black magic in the air. We won – this thought stayed in everyone’s head for a while. No more fear of being captured, tortured or killed. No more hiding and living in the shadows, life can finally be normal.

The death eaters were rounded up and locked in Azkaban. Their wands, overflowing with darkness, were snapped. They won’t take away lives, bits and pieces of souls. The footprints of evil were being erased. Dark magic shops closed their door forever. The families of death eaters were at risk, but the ministry of magic would do what is right. Now we didn’t need to look for witnesses – the whole world could testify. It’s like everyone could finally inhale after holding their breaths for so long.

Slowly but surely Hogwarts recovered too. Many witches and wizards came to help. We fixed and rebuilt the broken parts of the castle, stocked cupboards with supplies, brought life back inside. It was ready to welcome new and returning students. McGonagall was the new headmaster of the castle. We all knew she would take great care of the students. Laughter could fill the halls once again. Children will be safe in this new world we will create.

The hardest part was saying goodbye to our loved ones. The feeling of victory didn’t take away the pain. Tonks, Lupin, Fred, Colin, Snape… Endless thoughts and scenarios of “what if?” No one could replace them, and no one will. The only thing we could do is stay strong and let the memory of them blossom inside us. They wouldn’t be forgotten, not a chance.

Molly became quiet. George never left his room. Ginny hexed the gnomes in their garden every chance she got. Ron often went for walks, alone. Bill got caught up in growing his new family and fixing his old one. Charlie tried to be home as often as he could. Arthur worked hard, but even he couldn’t pretend like everything was fine. Nothing would cover up the gap Fred’s passing left. Fleur and I helped them around the house, making food and just staying close. Harry lost himself, drowning in his made up guilt. Why made up? Because no one blamed him. He saved the whole world, yet still it wasn’t enough. While everyone saw him as a hero, he saw himself as a villain. Like now, with Voldemort gone, he was the worst person ever. I tried to get through to him, help him, comfort him. He was having none of it.

“Did he calm down a bit?” I asked Ginny one evening.

Molly found Fred’s old sweater and bursted into tears. She wanted some time alone so I offered to make dinner.

“He still mostly talks about how he is to blame, what he could’ve done differently” Ginny was folding the rest of the laundry.

I let out a breath.

“He needs to move on” I concluded.

Ginny turned to me, almost offended.

“Would you get over someone’s death so quickly?” She raised her voice.

“That’s not what I mean” she was on her nerves all of the time and anything would tip her over. “Harry needs to understand that everything is in the past and he can’t change it. The longer it takes for him to understand that, the longer he won’t be able to get back on his feet.”

Ginny still seemed hurt, she avoided my eyes.

“Let me try to explain it – imagine that now he spends a year or two drowning in guilt. When that finally fades away, the grieving will start. He will relive the memories of those who passed and start to blame himself again. In that time about four years will pass and he still won’t be moving on. He won’t be able to focus on his job, his life, you and creating a family.” Those last words made her stop and think. “Ginny, I’m not trying to erase Fred. I just want for all of us to keep living. And Harry is at a stop right now, he isn’t moving forward, he isn’t living.”

She looked up at me with teary eyes. I went over and hugged her.

“It’s hard for all of us, but we need to stick together.”

Ginny nodded.

“You’re right. Sorry, I just feel so angry at the world.” She cried quietly into my sweater.

“And it’s okay to feel angry. Ginny, you are the bravest, the strongest girl I know. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t be vulnerable. We all are, that’s what makes us human.”

We stood there for some time. I held her in my arms, feeling like a big sister. The Weasleys have become my family, and I was so thankful to have them in my life.

“Let me finish dinner and then we can all eat” I said quietly while she let me go.

I went back to the pots and pans. I was here almost every day. The Weasleys needed support and I promised that I would do everything to help them. I shared the burden of loss, taking some weight off their shoulders. Ginny helped Harry, at least he let her in. He shoved everyone else out. Ron and Molly were exceptions. Molly was a mother figure for him and he didn’t think he could ever pay her back. With Ron they talked about the war, going over different plans and how they could have affected the ending. I thought differently, that’s why he resented me. I suggested not to get stuck in the past. All he heard was ‘move on, it’s over and you could’ve done better’.

So, I was there for everyone. I even started to get close to the other Weasleys. Bill acknowledged my thoughts and ideas. Charlie was just looking for someone to talk to. The Burrow was quiet. Even though about ten people were there every day, you could still think that no one was home. No laughter, no commotion, no steps and no conversations. I was there for everyone, but no one was there for me. Of course, I can’t complain. I wanted to do everything for those around me. But I still felt lonely on the inside. My parents came back, they listened, but they couldn’t really help me. I needed someone who lived through it. Someone, who knew, who saw. During the battle there was too much noise – now, there wasn’t any. The silence started to get to my bones and ringed in my ears. I just needed someone to talk to. But I won’t just go out of my way and complain. I won’t show it.

“Molly, dinner’s ready” I said through the open door.

She was sitting on the grass, clutching the sweater in her hands to her chest. She wept every day, and every day it didn’t get easier seeing her like this. I went over and helped her get up. Her eyes were red from tears, dark circles under them. She had nightmares every night. Arthur stayed up with her, and went to work with no sleep. I sat her down at the table and put a bowl of hot soup in front of her.

“Eat it, while it’s still warm, okay?” I said in a soft voice and was about to walk away when she grabbed my hand.

“How could I ever thank you for everything you do?” Molly looked at me.

“No need for that, I’m happy I can help,” I said as I caressed her hand and went to pour another bowl. “Ginny, get Harry and Ron” I asked and walked up the stairs.

Charlie and Arthur were at work. Bill and Fleur were at their home. That only left us with…

“George, can I come in?” I knocked on the door. I heard a faint approval and walked in.

The room was a mess, but George didn’t allow anyone to touch Fred’s things. He wanted them exactly as he left them.

“I brought some dinner,” I handed him the bowl.

“Thanks,” he took it, “You’re so kind to come here every day and help.”

“That’s the least that I can do,” I said and sat on his bed next to him.

He started eating in small sips.

“Does it ever get easier? Grieving?” He asked after some silence.

“I’m not sure, I guess it depends on you how you let it affect you” I answered.

“How am I supposed to live when a literal half of me is gone?”

I took a breath.

“I would make sure that you made that half of you proud. Live, like he wanted you to live.” I looked at him.

His whole face was red, eyes tired. He looked straight in front of him.

“George, I know it’s hard… But, as painful as it is, the world didn’t stop spinning. So why should you stop?”

He swallowed and froze.

“Fred wouldn’t want you to stop. You know it.” He turned to look at me.

“And what if I don’t feel strong enough to move again?” His voice cracked.

“That’s what family and friends are for. To help you, to support you.”

I looked around and noticed some of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes candy on the floor.

“He wouldn’t want you to close the shop. He would want for you to keep joking with the customers, inventing new candy. He would want for you to be a part of the family you’re in.” I turned back to him, his eyes were glued to the candies on the floor. “He would want you to keep going. Wouldn’t you want that if the roles were reversed?”

I could see his thoughts running.

“I would,” he said quietly.

“So do it for him. Not Ron, not dad or mum. Do it for Fred.”

He nodded. I patted him on the shoulder and started walking towards the door.

“Hermione,” I turned around, “Thank you. You have no idea what difference you’re making for us all.”

“You’re my family, and I would do anything it takes for you,” I smiled and walked out.

Kingsley took charge in the ministry. As the new minister for magic he helped the wizarding world pick up the scraps and put ourselves back together. He even offered me a position, saying that it would be an honor to work with someone so smart ant talented. I was flattered, but didn’t take the offer. My goal didn’t change – I wanted to finish my studies at Hogwarts. That meant a seventh year there. Ron and Harry weren’t coming back, so I was all alone. I would still see some fellow gryffindors and Ginny, but it wouldn’t be the same. The war made us all grow up fast. It felt like our priorities and responsibilities were forcefully put in place and action. Now, that we can take a breath, we weren’t capable of going back and learning some things from the beginning. We can just work on ourselves and hope for the best.

It was the end of July. One more month until going back to school. My parents were forgiving. Of course, they didn’t support my decision about their safety, but that was all in the past. At first, they were skeptical about my return, but when I explained that it’s safe, they were rooting for me again.

So, that was basically my routine. Stay with the Weasleys, help at home, spend time with my parents and repeat.

Ron was a separate subject. And, to be honest, I was so lost in our relationship. We weren’t a couple, but we had some feelings for each other. We experienced some romantic moments, shared a kiss or two. Our hands always found a way to the others palm. And when he felt overwhelmed he would lay in my embrace. And when he felt angry I would hold him back and he would listen. And when he needed to talk, I would be there to hear what he had to say. And when he couldn’t sleep I would sit beside him, silently watching as he played chess. But at the same time we were always at each other’s throats. Shouting and arguing was frequent, yet I was the one who always had to step down. He didn’t really comfort me, he wasn’t there when I cried at night. He didn’t know me that well. He admitted that he felt something for me, that I’ve become more beautiful, that I was all grown up. He liked some of my qualities, but that wasn’t enough. I tried to get things moving, but it felt more like friends than lovers. The worst part is that I needed someone beside me, someone I could trust. Someone who cared about me and thought I was enough. Ron was the closest and the only option. No other boys around me. Harry was with Ginny. George wasn’t my taste. Neither was Ron, but I could’ve made it work for the sake of not being alone.

While I held Ron through his worsts, he held Lavender. She survived the war, but was badly injured. Ron visited her often. A few times a week. Even though they broke up, the feelings didn’t seem to die. He felt sorry for her. Don’t get me wrong – I did too. But with him it was different. He sat at her bedside, sometimes even missing time with his family. And when he’d come back, he always said: “sorry, but you know she’s just a good friend.” So was I, Ron, so was I.

One night he came back late again. The others were already in their rooms, preparing for sleep.

“You’re still here?” He asked when he came in.

“I was just finishing cleaning up,” I answered, “I’ll be on my way soon.”

He nodded and sat down at the table.

“Can we talk about something?” He seemed down.

“Of course,” I said and leaned back on the kitchen countertop. “Is everything okay?”

He wasn’t fast to speak.

“There’s this situation and I’m not sure how to act on it.” He said slowly.

“I’m listening” I encouraged him.

He looked at his hands.

“Lavender needs a medical procedure. But she’s too weak to wait for new organs to grow, so they turned to the muggle ways. Something called donors?” He raised his head and our eyes met.

“Yes… A donor is a person who gives blood, cells, tissue, or an organ for use in another person” I looked at him incredulously, “Where are you going with this?”

He nodded his head as he turned away. It seemed it was uncomfortable for him to talk about this.

“These donors should be a match to the person in need.” He slowly said. “And I am a match for Lavender” he lifted his eyes once again.

I stood there, shocked.

“Ron, weren’t you the one who despised muggle doctors for ‘cutting people up’?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“You can’t be serious” I said more to myself.

“They are professionals, and Lavender wouldn’t need to wait.” He tried to justify everything.

“Ron, how many times have they done this? Do you think enough to do everything without a single risk?” I was mad, “Do you understand, that Lavender wouldn’t be the only one at risk? You would be too.”

“I trust healers, they know their job.” He started to talk faster and angrier.

“When it comes to transplants it doesn’t only depend on the doctors. When they make something regrow it automatically grows to be a part of you. A transplant is putting a foreign body inside yours and hoping that it will work the same. Why do you think many casualties happen? Because a patient’s body doesn’t accept this foreign organ. And it’s a risk for you, since your body has to adjust to living without something.”

Ron sat silently, with his head low while I moralized.

“Ron, if she waits, everything can be safer for the both of you” I walked to him and put my palm on his.

But he took his hand away and stood up in front of me.

“And why should she wait if she can use that time for actual living?” He said to my face in a non-friendly tone.

“Because we have more time than chances.” I looked straight at him. I felt hurt that he didn’t quite understood the importance of this. “Ron, your family is going through a tragedy, how do you think it will affect them? Even if you do survive you’ll have to stay in the hospital for a long time. They need you now more than ever, healthy and by their side.” I pleaded.

“I could be in two places at ones: by their side and by Lavenders side” he concluded.

“Ron,” it was hard to hear what he was saying, “Family should be more important to you now.”

“And why do you get to decide that for me?” He asked, “Lavender is a good friend of mine who deserves more than she has. You have all of us by your side, Hermione, and she has basically no one. Her relationship with her parents is bad. She has two friends. And you have plenty. Why do you want to take that away from her?”

His words couldn’t be further from the truth. I looked at him with teary eyes, waiting from him to say that he didn’t mean any of it. But his eyes showed only determination.

“You’re right, you are the one to decide what to do,” I said as I walked around him.

I took my sweater and head to the door, but my hand froze on the handle.

“But it will be me who will have to comfort them” I said and left into the cold night.

I came back home and collapsed on the floor. The Weasleys’ life was broken, and I tried to glue the pieces back together. But Ron didn’t think that it needed so much care, he’d rather care for his own things. He thought that, because his family had me, he didn’t need to play his role of a loving son and step up for them. He didn’t think that it was wise considering my words. He and Harry lived in a world of their own. They didn’t see the full picture, they didn’t want to.

But hearing Ron speak like that it broke my heart. It gave me the evidence to put the pieces in place. He only saw me as an object worthy of respect only when he needed someone. While I tried so hard to put any negative feelings behind and accept the best of him. I opened up, left room for new feelings even though it was crowded inside. But I was taken as a babysitter, a person who carries all the burden. But what am I supposed to do when I finally learned to love him? When a piece of my heart belongs to him in a way he could never understand? It’s not destiny, it’s an attempt to live. During all our school years he gave me mixed signals. I was the one who had to figure his puzzles out, while he jumped through the options of his feelings for me. One day he loves me and the other – not anymore. How pathetic. How childish.

The more time passed, the more I understood that not all things were going good. During the war the outside and the inside were broken, smashed and tortured. How come when there’s peace on the other side of the widow I still feel fighting inside? I broke down with everyone, but now, I can’t seem to get back up. I spend so much time worrying about everyone else, building up the life of today and tomorrow, but I don’t know how to fix myself. Father used to say “when you grow up you will understand”. Haven’t I grown up? Because I don’t understand anything at all…

Now I’m like ice. I’m strong and confident when others lean on me. I know I need to keep them up. But when I’m all alone I start to melt. I melt into a puddle on the floor with no strength. I can’t seem to hold myself up. My instincts tell me to close up, go away. How can I, when so many people need help? The desperation for everything to be okay is killing me. I can’t go back to normal, that’s lost somewhere far away. So now I just need to exist. Don’t let anyone in, don’t let anything out.

We have a little joy, we call him Teddy. Harry was so delighted to take care of his godson, but that soon faded away and guilt replaced his fatherly instincts. He blamed himself that this sweet boy will grow up without parents.

“But, Harry, he has you,” I tried to get to his head. He wouldn’t listen.

So, from time to time, I went and visited Andromeda and Teddy. I brought him toys and read books to him. Harry had stopped coming here a while ago. Neither Andromeda, nor I understood why. Yes, he blamed himself, but why would he leave this boy alone? It’s not like he gave bad influence. But Teddy was happy to see me every time. He would hold my hand and show me his Metamorphmagus abilities, I don’t know if he understood that or not yet. We talked with Andromeda for hours if we could. We shared stories of our Hogwarts years, life experiences. She was always sweet and gentle. I was so sorry that she lost so much.

I visited their graves. All of them. I left flowers and lit candles. I spoke about their families, what they’re doing, how they are holding up. I couldn’t find the right words for Snape. I tried to talk about how much he helped me, how much I learned from him. But still, every time I would go silent. Sometimes I just stood there, thinking if he had the same doubts inside, if he struggled with his life. We had hated each other all those years, now I didn’t hate him at all. I wondered if he would feel the same way. I left him a lily every time.

And there I was. Sitting on the floor of my room, looking up at the ceiling. My face stained with tears that shined from the moonlight. I often stared at one dot. I’m not sure why. Most of my time was spent on thinking. I just couldn’t seem to understand why I felt the way I did. Around others I felt motivated, I wanted to share that motivation with everyone. They all said I was the strongest after, because that’s what I wanted them to see me like. Strong and confident. But when I was away from everyone that mask would fall off. It’s like being a death eater in my own way. I actually thought so much I came up with different explanations why I was like this.

My first guess was that I was destined to die. That would explain my different mood around others. That would explain the distance from the ones I love. If it was destined like this, then they were supposed to act like this when I would be gone. They would be cold, depressed, lonely like during any other loss. Maybe destiny didn’t have enough time to change their feelings and moods towards me. But I don’t believe that I was so lucky to escape deaths grip. If I was destined to die, I would have died. I’m smart, but I couldn’t play with death like that.

My other option was that I’m just stupid and can’t understand how life after battles work. I could say I can’t come to terms with the fact that it’s normal to grieve for long. That it’s normal to lose yourself in a dark place. But what would that knowledge give me? If we were all in a dark place, who would help us? Who would push us forward?

Sometimes I’m afraid that those people never meant anything to me. That’s another speculation of mine. If I truly loved them, I would be sad. If they meant what I thought they did then I would cry non-stop, think about them and feel down at the mention of their names. But I did love them, I do feel down without them.

Then what is wrong with me? Maybe, somewhere in those ruins of a castle, that once resembled my second home, I buried myself long ago. Maybe I knew I couldn’t get out of that battle in one piece, so I left a piece behind. How do I get that back? How do I feel whole again with a gap inside? How do I close off all those doubts and thoughts? They’re starting to haunt me… They’re starting to say things that are irrelevant now. I struggle with my mental health, with my looks. I think too much about girly things that should not matter now.

No, my biggest problem is that I think. That’s all.

“A bit to the left,” Ginny guided the floating decorations.

We were getting ready to celebrate Harry’s birthday. One big celebration, first one like this after the war. We invited friends and family. It would be an amazing time to just be together.

Ginny and Charlie decorated. Fleur and I helped Molly with the food. Arthur and Bill were at work, though promised to come back earlier than usual. Ron was… nowhere to be found. Harry paced around waiting for guests, talking to George. He finally left his room.

Molly was an expert in setting the table. She knew where to put everything so it would all fit. She looked alive, happy for once.

“How are you?” Fleur asked when Molly left the kitchen.

“How can I be?” I looked at her with a smile.

“You take such great care of everyone else,” she said, looking back at the others, then back at me “Who takes care of you?”

I breathed in.

“I’m fine on my own” but I know she didn’t believe me.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel good, you know that. It’s just hard, seeing you put your all into helping others and knowing that you’ll probably break soon…” she continued cooking.

“Why do you think that?” I asked.

“Because I know how it goes. After things like this. Everyone breaks after wars and fights one day. I’m not saying you’ll go crazy. It can be small things, but you feel the breaking point.” She explained.

“Well, maybe I already had my breaking point and now I’m back on track?”

She looked at me and smiled sadly.

“You haven’t. Maybe others don’t see it, but I do. Just know that we’re all here for you,” she walked away.

Only if she knew that I’ve been broken for a while now.

Guests started arriving. Harry hugged every one of them. The conversations and presence off everyone brought the Burrow back to life. Everyone was glad to see each other. They talked about what they’ve been up to, what are their plans for the future. I stood further away, watching from afar. I couldn’t seem to be in the middle of it all, it seemed overwhelming.

Ron came back later in the evening. Everyone was already there.

“Where have you been?” I approached him.

“None of your business,” he said lazily.

“Ron, it’s your best friend’s birthday. You couldn’t even come home earlier for that?”

“I’m not the only one in his birthday party, I didn’t miss anything.” He wanted to walk away but I stood in his way.

“Ron, this is important. Family and friends gather around for the first time since the end of the war, and you come in the middle of the night?” He rolled his eyes. “Look, be with Lavender all you want, as if you don’t already spend all your days there, but prioritize your family and other friends. Especially if you don’t see them often.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He pushed me aside and walked to Dean.

I knew I didn’t have the right to moralize him, but I had enough of him not being here.

“Everyone, I would like to make a toast.” I heard Harry say.

Everyone locked eyes on him.

“I am thankful that you came, it means a lot to me. I’m also grateful to have so many amazing people in my life. I couldn’t have done anything without you. I am thankful to my beautiful girlfriend,” he hugged Ginny, “For always staying at my side. I’m thankful to the Weasley family for loving me like a son and brother.” He smiled to Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie and George. “I’m thankful to my best friend Ron,” he looked at Ron, “For having my back and helping me.”

He stopped for a bit.

“I am thankful to Hermione,” he looked at me and everyone followed his gaze, “For rebuilding what we have left.”

I looked at him, not knowing how to react. I didn’t smile, didn’t nod my head in agreement. What about me helping him and having his back? Does he really think of me as only responsible for picking up the broken pieces and putting them back where they belonged?

“I know that all of those who left us are in our hearts. We will always remember them.” He stopped to take a breath, “I raise a toast to a brighter tomorrow.” Everyone followed his lead and lifted their drinks in the air.

The party was in full swing. Some people were intoxicated, but it only made them more relaxed. They sat around and talked, loud laughter filled the Burrow. Some of them danced to the old vinyl record player Arthur had. The boys invited the girls for dances too. Small Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes toys flew around. From time to time you could hear a pop and small fireworks would go off in a corner of the room.

I helped cleaning up, didn’t feel like partying much.

I looked over at them. Ginny was sitting on Harry’s lap, his hands wrapped around her. The others sat cross-legged on the floor. It was supposed to feel like home, but it didn’t fully represent that idea to me. I watched the faces of these people who were my friends. I’m not sure how I would call them now. For all I know, they wouldn’t say that I’m their friend. They would go about how I changed.

“Hermione became so serious after the war.”

“Hermione doesn’t laugh anymore, does she even talk to someone?”

“I bet she never leaves her room.”

“She became weird.”

Of course I didn’t pay attention to their comments. Not openly. I would wonder from time to time if it’s me who changed, or them. It just doesn’t seem fitting to me right now. The war had enough damages on everyone, we should accept people the way they are. But I learned to be alone again. Drifting further and further from Harry and Ron I had to do something. It didn’t seem they wanted my company, so I learned to be a friend to myself. Ron and Harry may have brought out the extrovert in me, but it’s like a plant. If you don’t water it, give it sun and so on it will wither. The extrovert in me died, the introvert came back to claim the free spot.

That was what I was most afraid of going back to Hogwarts. That without them it would be hard and challenging. Now I have a hunch that it will be easier than I thought, maybe even enjoyable. I will be able to study on my own, no secret missions during the night, no saving the world.

There was one thing I was still scared of. Since the end of the war I became a big part in the Weasley family. Not only as a member, but a helper. I’m afraid that when I go back to Hogwarts, no one will be there to help clean the house or make dinner. No one will be there to comfort the weeping Molly. No one will be there to encourage George.

It became crowded inside so I went out. The Weasleys had a bench in their garden that perfectly overlooked the fields with a lake. It was beautiful, even during the night. With no lights from busy streets you could clearly see the stars, make out constellations. Gosh, if the Weasley kids knew how fortunate they are to have so much beautiful nature around. I would already be sitting with my telescope, drawing the dots and lines on paper. Not that I couldn’t do that now.

I heard steps on the wet grass and soon Ron sat down next to me. He was holding a glass of champagne in one hand, the other he threw over on the back of the bench, almost on my shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

I shrugged.

“I just needed some fresh air,” I answered.

We both looked up, maybe hoping to see a shooting star. But who am I kidding, even if we did, I still know we would ask for different things. He took a sip.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, still looking up.

“It is,” I added quietly.

“Why did you became so distant?” He asked out of the blue.

I turned to him. His eye had a thin haze from the alcohol. Ron, when given the chance, started to drink a lot. There were times when I would drag him to his room and leave some water and a hangover potion near his bed. Now his eyes showed minimal struggle to focus on something. His cheeks slightly reddened from the drink too. His freckles tried to stand a chance against the flowing blood that died his face that reddish color. Yet still they almost disappeared into the tint. You could see them if you were really close. His lips twitched faintly from time to time, with some crumbs left in the corners from the last muffin he ate.

I let out a sigh.

“War affects everyone differently,” I fumbled with my hands, “I guess this was the way it played out for me.”

He furrowed his brows, not hiding his disagreement.

Over this time I learned a lot about the human psychology. I learned to read body languages, reactions. I acquired the skill of understanding emotions and a bit about how to help others cope with them. I could tell a lot about a person just from looking at him. Maybe that’s why I became so dull – because I started analyzing others. I became meticulous, observant. All this information about others might have erased a part of me. That’s why I started seeing everyone else more clearly than myself.

“I wish it hadn’t,” I was swimming through my thoughts when he woke me up. I had to remember what we’ve been talking about.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He scrunched his nose, like he always did when he was getting ready to explain his thoughts.

“I wish the war hadn’t affected you this way. I would want you to be like you were before.”

I looked at him, the question sitting on the tip of my tongue. Whatever, he probably won’t remember this tomorrow.

“Would you like me more if I was the way I was before?” The question seemed confusing, but had a meaning if you studied it carefully.

Ron had to look down to think of an answer. I could see him thinking as his eyes ran from one grass blade to another. He bit down his lower lip and stayed silent.

“There’s the answer for you,” I said and looked away. “No one needs the past me, she was weak and… and had place for improvement.”

He still didn’t raise his eyes.

“And now you’re strong?” He asked under his breath.

“I’m stronger, that’s a step up.” I answered. “I’ll go check on them,” I said standing up.

But Ron caught my hand and stood up next to me holding it.

“Hermione, no one needs you to be stronger, you were fine the way you were.”

“Ron, people change, and so did I,” he was still holding my hand. “It’s natural and you can’t blame me for it.”

“I don’t blame you, I just think you were… well, better,” he said shyly.

I stared at him. For a moment it seemed like I was talking to a kid.

“Ron, I grew up.”

He looked me in the eyes.

“I still wish you didn’t,” he was stubborn. He took a lose strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear, not moving his hand away. “Then we could’ve grown up together.”

I watched his eyes, looking for a hint of his feelings. He cupped my face with that one hand and slowly pulled me closer. My heart started to beat faster. I was still angry at him for acting stupid, but now all that seemed to drown in the moment. When he got close enough he gently pressed his lips to mine. You could call that a caress instead of a kiss. The moment that connection happened someone set off more mini fireworks close to the open window. You could hear laughter from inside. At that moment I imagined like it was New Year’s Eve. As if we were sitting and celebrating with our friends, hand in hand. As if we ended the last year and started the new one with a New Year’s kiss.

But that was far from truth. His lips tasted sour from the champagne. The drinks residue burned the marks where I bit my lips. Not to mention, Lavender’s perfume was infiltrated in his shirt. Even when it was a gentle touch, it felt cold and unnatural.

Just not meant to be.

This brought up the pain in the back of my heart. I, again, remembered how I needed to learn to love him. Was that all a waste? Maybe there’s still a chance.

“I should go,” I whispered and walked away, praying he didn’t see the corners of my eyes glistening.

Some people already left. A few were sleeping in crammed armchairs or at the ends of sofas. I summoned some blankets and covered them up. The table needed some cleaning, I rearranged the leftover food and brought the dirty dishes to the sink.

“You okay?” Ginny came in.

“Yes, I was just putting away some stuff,” I answered.

“Cool,” she stayed, looking around. “Are you exited to go back to Hogwarts?”

“I guess.” I smiled. “It’s always fun there, but I’m sure it’ll be a bit different.”

“Yeah…”

I looked at her.

“Are you exited?” I asked.

She thought for a minute before answering.

“I am but I am not at the same time,” she started giggling and I joined her.

“How come?”

“It’s always fun going back, but I’ll miss Harry.” She said.

“Well, you’ll see him during holidays, and you can send each other letters,” I suggested.

“That’s a good idea, I don’t know how I didn’t think of that. Sometimes I wonder how you’re still without a boyfriend.”

I sighed.

“Maybe Victor Krum wasn’t the worst option.” She started thinking out loud.

This idea made me laugh.

“So, you suggest that I should write a letter to him, saying we should renew our friendship?” I asked.

She caught my good mood and smiled too.

“What? Maybe something would work out between you two,” now she spoke with her hands, waving them in the air.

“Maybe, but I think I’ll focus on my studies for now.”

It was already late, but I still decided to go home. When I was sure that Ginny could handle the few people, who were still awake, I apparated home.

My parents were already sleeping. I quietly entered the house and locked the doors. My legs brought me straight to my room. It was already covered in the night’s darkness. I lit up a candle and started getting ready for bed. When I laid down I started to think, what Hogwarts would be without Harry or Ron. To be honest it felt less like going back to school and more like going to, I don’t know, a getaway. I had enough knowledge to skip this year, but I wanted to do everything the right way. Still this meant that I will have a lot of free time on my hands. I already made a plan of going to the library and visiting Hagrid. Maybe I should explore the surroundings, go on walks. It’s my last year, I want to enjoy it.

Chapter Text

Only a month left until I run away from this routine. Maybe I should start a countdown, and when it goes off I will start a new chapter of my life. Free of talks about the war, free of arguments and people pretending to be your friend. But who am I kidding, you don’t just stop talking about a war that ended recently. It will be a conversation starter for a few years in advance. Don’t know what to talk about? Talk about the war. Don't know what to agree on? Agree on the war. Don’t know why to be sad? Be sad because of the war. Many circumstances and in most of them the answer is simple – talk about the war.

As I watch the sunny days be replaced with a wind, blowing just enough to let the petals of flowers sway, I try to imagine what awaits me. Silent classes, without Ron or Harry whispering in my ear or passing notes under the table. One side of the sofa empty in the common room. Space for new Gryffindors at the house’s table in the great hall. Trips to Hogsmeade in silence. Sitting at Hagrid’s and drinking tea from cups, which are way too big for the average person. Would I miss those moments, when they filled the space by my sides? I don’t know, I need to experience their absence in order to understand what feelings might erupt.

I stood in silence. What was I doing in the Burrow so early? I have no idea. Standing against the wall I looked around. Maybe I was trying to take everything in, take a photo in my mind to remember later. I have so many of these you could start a folder. It wasn’t a job done in a second. You really needed to stare for a while to get the full picture. If you only looked for a second, you would notice a cramped kitchen. But I see a half drunk cup of coffee that Arthur couldn’t manage to finish before work. I see a plate on top of the crooked cupboard, full with a layer of dust. It was Fred’s favorite and George didn’t want anyone to use it, afraid that it would break. I see a handwritten cookbook that Molly started in hopes of giving it to one of her children when they grow up. Its pages are yellow from the tea that has been spilled on it, even though it hasn’t been open in ages. Molly doesn’t touch a thing that reminds her of her trials and errors while creating a family. How can she continue prospering in it when her family isn't whole? I see Ginny’s quidditch uniform folded up and put on the chair. She was supposed to put it away months ago, yet in those months she hadn’t even touched a broom. I see that Molly’s calming teas have been stocked up by Fleur, who was hoping it would help Molly to fall asleep in the night. She also slipped in a calming potion that someone could add to the drinks when Molly wasn’t looking. She didn’t appreciate our attempts in easing her. Yet those potions and teas are the only reason she has been resting more than an hour a night.

I could observe for a long time, always finding more details with backstories. But those thoughts were interrupted by the sun climbing in through the window. I wasn’t a morning person, but this is why I loved the early hours. The sun came in uninvited, touching everything in its way and leaving a gold trail behind. It surrounded the cup, making the remains of coffee on its rim brighter. It climbed into the plate, highlighting the difference in height of each speck of dust. It shed light on the cookbook, you could see neatly written letters on the pages. It soaked into the red fabric of the uniform, making the gold decorations stand out. It touched the jars full of tea leaves, leaving a shine on their shadows. It painted the room in a romantic haze, the one you would read about in a book when it finally reached a happy ending. Then why isn’t this house gifted with a happy ending? Like this haze would only be a mask for someone who came in and didn’t know the pain that empty chair near the table caused. ‘It’s only an empty chair, why do they care?’ they would think. But in their minds they would never imagine a red headed boy with freckles and a huge smile sitting there, sharing the same warm haze the sun gave off.

Maybe it is a life on different parts of the world. Here it’s warm and happy. Maybe we’re all stuck on the other side of life’s sea, where the waves are higher than our fears and winds make our boats turn around and come back to the same shore again. Then how do we reach the other side? How do we find the strength to swim across this deadly ocean of feelings? We seem to drown in it far too many times.

I blinked, noticing there really isn’t much to do around the house today. Still I don’t want to go back home now. Grabbing a blanket I walked out the back door into the garden. I followed the little path to the edge of the hill and went down to the lake. Maybe soaking in some sun would bring me some of that happiness. A handful would be more than enough. I sat down and taking off my shoes dipped my feet into the water. At first it stung, but soon became bearable and even relaxing. I flipped my hair back, letting the sunrays kiss my skin. It would make my freckles pop up more. They were something I was insecure about, but meeting the Weasleys I understood how beautiful they looked. I started accepting myself, still the war did have a hand in changing my appearance. I was skinnier, my face became a bit hollow and dark circles under my eyes followed me even with a full night of sleep. Still I had too little time to think about looks and taking care of them.

A funny idea popped up in my mind. It was like the Burrow was a vacation home. I spent most of my time here, and I will come back once the holidays are in action. I wondered if the Burrow would change in those few months leading up to Christmas. I still hadn’t figured out a plan on how to spend it. Of course it would be normal to spend Christmas with my parents, but I couldn’t abandon the Weasleys. Maybe I could talk my parents into coming here and welcoming the holidays all together. They know how much this family means to me.

But something didn’t make sense. The clouds were flowing way too fast for a summer morning. I’m sure they didn’t have a place to be at, so why the rush? Why don’t they stop and enjoy some of the last summer breezes? Maybe they knew more than we did, maybe something was about to happen. It made a little place in my heart tic, as if a bomb was about to set off. Still I buried that feeling inside, thinking the bomb was neutralized.

I wish I trusted that instinct more.

It was middle of august, a few days after celebrating Ginny’s birthday. Percy was going to come home soon, everyone missed him dearly. Maybe he would mix up these monotonous days. The sun had already left our sights, a flock of grey clouds formed overhead. They brought cold rain with them that soaked the ground. I tried to make the Burrow cozy, a place you would want to stay in during this kind of weather. I made sure it was warm, but still left a couple of blankets here and there for comfort. Found some magical board games and put them out for people to enjoy. I did lure some of them in. Ginny was laughing with George and Bill when Charlie got sprayed in the face with water after failing to detect the opponent’s ship in magical battleship. Their laughter brought a sense of ease. It was like hearing the best music in the world. I couldn’t help but smile myself. Ron hasn’t been around since Ginny’s birthday. I wanted to believe I didn’t care, but I couldn’t conceal that ache from thinking he started to spend nights in the hospital too. Molly was quietly knitting in a corner, lifting her eyes up to her happy children from time to time. The wrinkles around her eyes deepened from lifting her lip corners up. Arthur sat at the table, wearing his glasses and reading documents from work. The ministry needed to recover from the war, which meant that every employed person there had five times more work than before. Still he didn’t complain, he worked hard every day to bring the best for his family.

Errol came flying in, this time actually making it through the window. She caught everyone’s attention. Owls were rarely sent to deliver mail in these weather conditions unless it was urgent. I’m surprised she even made the trip. She spat the letter on top of the other documents Arthur had laid out in front of him. He opened the letter and started reading it while the rest of the house sat as on pause. His eyebrows furrowed more and more with each line he read. Suddenly he jumped up from his seat and addressed his wife.

“Molly, we have to go,” she rose up as soon as his mouth opened.

He helped her put on her cloak.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her eyes were wide, reminding me of a frightened child.

“The hospital, I’ll explain everything on the way,” we heard him say as he closed the door.

We were left inside. It seemed all the air escaped with them. No one talked, no one even breathed for a moment. We all looked at each other.

“What do you think happened?” George was the first to talk.

His voice was cautious, as if awaiting another tragedy to struck down. He always got like this when something unknown would happen.

“Maybe Auntie Muriel had enough of her pathetic life,” Ginny tried to lighten the mood. “She could’ve faked an injury, wouldn’t be the first time” she shrugged.

“I’m not sure that mum and dad would react like that if it was for her,” Bill took a guess, “they would’ve at least rolled their eyes or taken a deep breath.”

“Maybe Ron was found somewhere in Diagon Alley drunk, we hadn’t seen him for a while.” Charlie added a new person to the mix.

“Dad said they were going to the hospital, you toerag,” Ginny corrected him.

“I believe Ron was at the hospital for the last few days,” I added my version quietly.

Everyone looked at me. Something wasn’t right. The tic in my heart traveled up to my ears, ticking every few seconds.

“But he has been there so Lavender wouldn’t be alone, no?” George asked.

“He talked with Harry, something about helping her,” Ginny remembered, “but I don’t believe he went for it.”

“Even if he did, the hospital is full with professionals,” Bill seconded her idea.

He looked at me, trying to calm me down with his eyes. I nodded and turned back around to the food I was making. Still an uneasiness settled down making it hard to breathe.

We continued the evening, only now everyone was on the edge. We were sure that Molly or Arthur would send important news, we just had to wait to hear them. I was tensed up, straight as a string on an instrument. My hands were shaking, I spilled everything I had in them. The tic grew louder with each passing second. An anticipation which robbed me of my sharp mind. I wasn’t able to think nor talk. It felt like the world was about to crash down, with pieces of it falling apart already.

Hours passed. We all ate in silence, in reality just pushing the food around on our plates. No one had an appetite. Now all the coziness faded, only waiting filled every corner. A silvery blue spark travelled into the house, leaving a faint trail behind. A light blue weasel appeared in the center of the kitchen. We all locked eyes on it no matter how far someone was. The mammal shook its head, opening its mouth, then closing it again. When he spoke with the voice of Arthur Weasley it sounded tortured, painful.

“Ron is…” his voice was quiet. All of us held our breaths. “He’s…” He couldn’t find the words.

“There were some unexpected complications… The healers are doing everything they can but… it’s… it’s too late,” his voice broke.

George’s eyes were as wide as ever. Ginny was trying her best to breathe, even though she was slowly losing the battle with control. Bill shut his eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line. Charlie staggered, leaning against the wall with his hand. And I… Well I couldn’t seem to understand anything at this point.

“The healers are taking care of your mother, she fainted and her blood pressure is dangerously high.” He took a pause, unable to deliver clean sentences. “I’m with the administration trying to figure out what happened. I don’t know when we’ll be back. Take care of each other.” He wanted to disappear but stopped, “and remember that your mother and I love you all very much.”

The patronus disappeared.

The world came crashing down.

Ear ringing silence flew by before the sounds of cries followed. Ginny dropped to the floor, weeping and choking on her tears. George ran up to his room and slammed the door. I could see his face shinning as he rushed. Soon sounds of something breaking came from upstairs, you could easily tell he was punching the wall. Charlie went over and hugged his sister, holding her as if he would never let go. His face was distorted with pain. Bill sat down and buried his head in his hands.

The bomb ticking in my ears exploded, shattering every living part of me. I became so numb standing there, my eyes still fixed on the spot the little blue animal disappeared, I didn’t notice the rivers running down my face. My lungs were aching, pleading for air. But I couldn’t seem to take a breath.

I staggered out the door, my feet taking off as soon as the bare soles touched the wet grass. I ran not knowing the destination. A knot that was tide in my throat broke, even I couldn’t recognize my own voice. The rain was coming down, drenching my clothes that stuck to my body like second skin. It mixed with the tears on my face, carving out paths for them to roll down on. I cried into the dark night, with every part of me screaming.

I found myself at the lake. The one that once brought me light breeze and sunshine. The one that I came to for happiness. Now I came with questions I would never have the answers to and with a pain that would never be dulled. How the hell could he just leave? How the fuck could a death be so subtle and calm? Like he just sat with us, stood up and left through the door never to come back. And the most pathetic thing is that it hurt way more. I almost wanted it to be this dramatic massacre of feelings. The one where you’re surrounded with screams. But this calmness drove me out of my mind. It made me insane, tearing every ridge of my brain apart. How could he just die, like it meant nothing? How the fuck was I supposed to deal with it? I raised my eyes up, as if god could come down from that darkness and take me away. My sadness turned into anger.

“I fucking told you!” I screamed to the sky. I screamed as if Ron was sitting up there and could hear my breaking voice.

I felt the ground underneath me, my feet couldn’t hold me any longer. I grabbed onto my chest as if that would ease the pain. I cried because he left. I cried because this wonderful family doesn’t deserve this. I cried because the world was so fucking unfair.

It started to thunder, the nature was mirroring my anger. I wanted revenge, I wanted him to feel what I felt. But how could he feel the pain I felt, if it was caused by his leaving.

A part of me was glad the older siblings were home. Charlie would hold Ginny, let her sleep in his arms if it came to it, before Harry would take over. At least I hoped he would. Bill would go up to calm George down. I’m sure he was mad at the world too. All that was left for me to do was drown in this pain I did not know was possible.

As the wave of emotions came crashing down over and over again my body went numb, my mind went blank. I couldn’t make out shapes in the distance, probably because I was staring at the abys of darkness before me, questioning whether or not it would claim me. I wanted it to go inside my body, to take over all the nerves and for one moment just to let me breathe. My lungs still spazmed, as if racing my heartbeat.

I looked around. Only tiny droplets falling down.

I looked forward at the dark water that reflected my image.

It felt like I had traveled to the other side of the world, leaving the happy and sunny place behind. For as I did not see it in the future. I knew that place was only heaven, too far out of reach. Now I sat on a high cliff with the ocean of feelings underneath. The fog became so thick I started to doubt if anything awaited on the other side. Everything I knew, it all drowned in the middle, taking away my sanity with it. I could try to retrieve it, but fear paralyzed me when I stood in the water and couldn’t even see my feet. All that bravery, stocked up over the months was scattered to the winds, blowing in directions I did not know the names of. The world began to fall apart. Sand molecules rose in the air as the shore disappeared right in front of me. Soon there would be nothing left.

But what can be left, when there was nothing at the start?

I let myself weep for as long as I needed. I knew that going back wouldn’t make things easier. God knows how long I sat there, trying to keep myself from falling apart all the way.

I didn’t hear anyone approaching, but a cloak was placed on my weak shoulders. Hands wrapped around me as I understood that all sound was sucked out of my head. Only whispers of wind were blowing there. A shine of blonde hair sparkled before my eyes as I was pulled close into an embrace. While I watched out for the Weasleys, Fleur watched out over me. She cradled me in her thin arms, knowing that I in fact did finally break. She didn’t talk, didn’t try to calm me down. Just held on so I could feel the warmth radiating off of her, since I couldn’t find the fire that once burned within me.

The clouds parted, clearing some of that darkness. I did not care for it however. I only noticed it since Fleur started to speak.

“We should go inside, you’re freezing.” Her voice was like silk, flowing off of her tongue.

Was I freezing? Or was I shaking from the shock this world had drenched me in? Either way it didn’t matter, there’s no greater pain than the one Ron’s leaving caused. I did feel cold, but it seemed natural, almost necessary.

Fleur tried to help me get up, but I could only express a wooden performance on my part. When I staggered on my feet that had already gone to sleep, she lead me back and up the hill. Now both of us were wet and silent. When we came in she tried to push me further into the room, hoping I would plop onto a couch. But I found I’d rather stay on the ground. Turning to the nearest wall by my side I slid down and hugged my knees. It was quiet inside, only from time to time you could hear someone sniff their nose. Deadly silence took over. Funny, how many deadly things can we encounter in a day?

When I managed to look up Fleur was crouching in front of me, speaking. Her eyes were red from tears too, still the veela in her shinned through as the teardrops only decorated her long black lashes. I saw her mouth move, but I could only hear gibberish. I couldn’t make out words, but her facial expressions gave away the same information she wanted me to hear. She was worried for me, probably asking if I wanted anything. I scanned the room – nothing. Everyone must’ve went up to their rooms. Gosh, I hoped they weren’t alone, since now I couldn’t offer a shoulder to cry on. I just closed my eyes and leaned my head back. I was covered with a blanket in all attempts to help me from getting sick. After that I was left alone.

Minutes, hours, time passed. I might have drifted off and woken up about a dozen times. In the same place, sitting completely still as if I was a statue. I lazily opened my swollen eyes. Now Bill and Charlie were here. My guess would be that Ginny had cried out all her strength to the point of falling into a deep dreamless sleep. George might have wanted some time alone. Charlie was sitting on the couch, looking down at his hands. Emotions were swiped off of his face, only a dead look in his eyes remained. Bill looked at Fleur, who was working in the kitchen, touching her lovingly as a silent communication. A tragedy was painted on his face too, I wondered if he was thinking about his future family and children. Fleur worked fast as a machine, trying to find anything to do so she wouldn’t need to sit down and think. She caught my glance, but I turned my eyes away. A fog of grief had clouded my mind, as if I never knew what loss felt like before. ‘Nice to meet you, loss, I wish you wouldn’t exist.’ I felt insane, talking to myself in my mind. Truth is I didn’t want to talk to anyone around me. I felt that even if one word came out I would be caught in a flu of emotions once again. And vomiting words into someone’s face didn’t seem like the right kind of comforting. Especially now, that I’ve lost all my speaking abilities. I could only scream fluently in pain.

A light came in, but it wasn’t the same sun. It was an unknown being, trying to deprive us of that darkness that I held on in hopes this nightmare would end. Or maybe I was holding on for dear life, since I knew that this nightmare would become true as soon as the light came. I felt tired, betrayed, angry, sad, depressed. Imagine every bad feeling in the books and putting them into one person. I was that person.

“Hermione,” someone shook me gently, almost whispering my name.

I opened my eyes and found Charlie sitting in front of me. I was still on the ground, and those bad feelings were still here. My head hurt, pressing on my temples. My throat was dried out, scratching my vocal chords as I tried to make a sound.

“What…” I stopped. What was I supposed to say?

“It’s okay,” he whispered, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

“It’s not…” I answered silently.

It’s like we all gave up on life. There was no more strength to move forward. Charlie sighed.

“Where are the others? What time is it?” I asked looking around.

“Ginny is sleeping, George is in his room. Bill and Fleur went to check up on mum and dad, later they will pick up Percy from the train station.”

“Does he know?” I knew how hard these news would affect the Weasleys.

Charlie nodded and I took a breath.

“Why is this happening?” I asked the nothingness in front of me.

“Life does what it wants,” Charlie replied to my question.

“Does Harry know?” I looked up at him.

“Yes.”

“Well, where is he?” I was cautious.

“I don’t know, he wanted to be alone I guess.” Charlie shrugged.

I closed my eyes. Felt like gravity was pulling down harder than most days. I just wanted to lay on the ground and nothing else.

“C’mon, let’s get you something to eat,” Charlie extended his hand to me while standing up.

“Thanks, Charlie, but I’m not hungry,” I said in a dead voice.

“You should chew on something, you haven’t eaten anything since last evening.”

I looked to the window. The sky was painted in orange and yellow colors. They reminded me of his hair. They also reminded me that night was about to fall.

“How long was I sleeping here?”

“Pretty much the entire day. We wanted to move you somewhere more comfortable, but Fleur said to leave you alone.”

“How’s everyone?” I looked for hope in his eyes, hope that at least someone was doing a bit better. But his answer didn’t bring joy.

“Well, George is furious and heartbroken. Ginny… Ginny is in shock. Bill and I just find it hard to believe it.” He sat down in front of me, leaning back against the table’s leg. “It just happened so unexpectedly… Like all was too calm for something so tragic.”

“I want to be so mad at him, but I just can’t…” It was hard to find my voice. “A part of me says it was expected from the beginning. That something would follow up that friendship.”

Then I remembered a crucial detail.

“Charlie, as far as I know, Ron was helping Lavender. Did she…” I couldn’t find the appropriate ending to that question.

“She’s fine.” He cut off, she was the last person he’d want to talk about right now.

“Got it.”

It wasn’t uncommon for us two to talk. Charlie was a very friendly person, the only problem was that most of his friends were in Romania.

“How are you holding up?” He asked carefully.

When I looked up at him I noticed two eyes, full of concern. He was always like a big brother to me, especially after this summer when we got to know each other better. Fleur was like a big sister. But Charlie carried this calmness which you couldn’t find in Fleur’s sharp and defined features and moves. He was like a big bear, just waiting to give a hug away. He was simple, the kind of simple where he didn’t need a lot for his life to be fulfilled. The kind of simple where he wouldn’t question anything and help his family and friends. The kind of simple when I, a family friend, was like a family member, a sibling with a different surname.

“I’m broken.” I was telling the truth. What was the point in lying about how I feel? Anyone could sense it was going to be a disaster.

“At night I tried to fall asleep, hoping I would wake up and Ron would walk in through that door.” Charlie was calm, collected.

“It seems our reality is way too cruel,” I concluded.

“Are you having doubts about the future too? Or is it just me?” He looked at me, brown eyes that followed this family’s genes soaking into the depths of my soul.

“Could you be more specific?” I asked.

“Well… I don’t know,” he brushed his hand through his ginger hair. “I’m afraid I’ll look like a coward because of these thoughts.”

“Charlie, right in this moment you have every right to be scared, frightened or a coward. Your family has been put through a journey not everyone would be able to outlast.”

I liked our heart-to-heart communication. I never felt the need to hide the truth from him. He would usually understand, and if he didn’t – he wouldn’t judge.

“I’m starting to feel like in a game. I had a dream about it.” He swallowed, “all of my family members were in a game. Then, one by one we were picked out and killed, taken away forever.” He looked up at me, a tear rolling down his left cheek. “What if it keeps going? What if after a month another one of us leaves, never to return again? I tried to find the reason why, but always kept circling back unable to get the answers. Why would the universe punish us in a way so brutal that your blood freezes over? I can’t imagine what mum feels… It’s her children, her DNA. Her pride and joy that turned to sadness and hurt.”

“I don’t blame you for thinking this way.” I let the air inside my lungs escape. “But I’d rather not think about another tragedy awaiting. We must keep each other close and if we see someone drifting away we must make sure they’re okay.”

“Easier said than done. I’m pretty sure you tried to talk Ron out of it, didn’t you?”

“I did, but he stopped listening to me a long time ago,” I said with pain in my voice.

“Were you two close? Because I could never figure that out. One moment he’s by your side and the next you’re not talking to each other.” His curiousness was never in the way. Even if Charlie did bring up a subject that was avoided, you felt the desire to talk it out.

“To be honest I never knew where we stood myself. One thing was for sure – I could never replace that empty space in his heart that Lavender left.”

“I’m sorry… It must be unbearable when a person you thought would be the main thing in your life leaves so early.”

I shook my head.

“I didn’t think he would be the main thing in my life, not for the last couple of weeks. It hurts because I spend so much time getting used to his ways and accepting him. I feel at a loss. What are you supposed to do, think and feel when the one you learned to love leaves for someone else?”

He was silent for some time, leaving room for those feelings inside.

“I’m sure you wish to never see Lavender again.” And he was right, I didn’t want to see her face.

“I have more important things to worry about now,” I wiped my tears away.

“And what are those ‘more important things’?” He squinted his eyes.

“Getting myself together and helping your family. How am I supposed to help when I’m weak?”

He looked at me with a warm gaze.

“Hermione,” when he spoke his voice was soft and caring, “you don’t need to feel guilty for being weak. You’ve been brave and strong for longer than you needed. Stop acting like you’re a soldier who has only one porpoise. You are a part of this family and we should be there for you as much as you’ve been there for us.”

More tears filled my eyes. Charlie always made sure I felt important.

“Thank you, Charlie, that means a lot to me. It’s just I can’t let myself feel the grief because then it would be too hard to fight it.”

“Then don’t fight it. Let it settle down and get lost in all other things inside. That’s where it’s supposed to be.”

I looked at him, full of gratitude. I never had any siblings in my childhood. It so happens that life granted me some of the best brothers and sisters.

The next days were agony. Percy came home, his presence meant the world right now. Ginny was quiet, so was George and Bill, and Charlie…And Arthur… Molly was trying her hardest to hold on, but the grieving took away her strength and her health became worse. She had to drink several potions a day to make sure her body kept on working.

Percy tried to distract everyone. He talked about his traveling, where he was and what he did. Ginny listened, so did everyone else. There was nothing more left to do.

Harry felt entitled to the bad feelings following the loss. It made him an asshole in my head. How could he claim the pain that he didn’t even bear all the way? For example, Molly was hurting way more than him. Ginny understood this and they had an argument. It was probably the first time he heard her shouting so loud. At least her heartbreaking voice brought him to his senses. He stopped acting weird and joined us here, in the Burrow. Now he talked to the others more, never letting Ginny go.

I had a pretty good understanding in healing, so I helped Molly with the potions she needed to drink. It was a calm evening. I sat at Molly’s bedside, she just finished eating.

“A drop of Calming Draught,” I always talked with her while helping.

Maybe it looked like I was caring for a child, but she needed to hear someone’s voice.

“And I added that spoonful of Dreamless Sleep Potion to your tea, so make sure to drink it all,” I completed my work and started to gather up dishes.

“You are a miracle,” her quiet voice cut through the silence.

I looked back at her. She was clutching the cup in her hands. Finally she didn’t object to potions that would help her.

“I’m not, I’m just trying my best,” I said softly, touching her outstretched hand.

“I like to believe that you and Harry were sent to my life for the children I’ve lost,” she said in a sad voice.

“We aren’t a replacement, but we are family that will stay close.” I fixed her words, deep down knowing what she actually meant.

“Well then god blessed me with an amazing family,” she smiled and took a sip.

She never believed in god, until now. It was hard seeing her so weak. But I told myself that every day we are helping her get better.

I left the room, silently closing the doors. I put the dirty dishes in the sink and used a charm to wash them. Silent footsteps came from the stairs. I looked back and saw Harry, standing awkwardly in the shadows.

“Is everything alright? Where’s Ginny?”

It was a normal question to ask at this point. He never left her alone. And I tried to come back to the strong Hermione I was before, only breaking down when no one was looking. And yes, I broke down every single time.

“She fell asleep,” his voice was calm.

I nodded.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, glad that he acted as a family member now.

“A bit.”

“Then come and sit down.”

He slowly sat down at the table and I put a bowl of hot soup in front of him. He started sipping on the liquid.

“Do you know where Mr Weasley is?”

“At work, he had something come up.”

I tidied up the kitchen and poured another bowl.

“It’s hard, losing a friend.” I’m not sure whether Harry was talking to himself or me.

“Yeah, I know.” I said.

“I doubt it. It seems you have it quite easy.” He said, and those words made my blood boil.

I put the bowl down, hitting the countertop harder than I wanted, and turned to him.

“Oh, really? Just because I choose to not show my grief doesn’t mean I don’t experience it.” My tone was sharp. He kept looking at me like he didn’t agree.

“Whatever you say,” he didn’t want to argue.

“Harry, he was my friend too. We were all friends. Why do you keep forgetting this fact?”

“Maybe because I had a stronger bond with him.” His tone was climbing too.

“That’s because you shoved me away!” a shout escaped from my tongue.

“Because you were speaking nonsense!” he started shouting too.
“Nonsense?! Was it nonsense that I didn’t want to get stuck on the past?! That I didn’t want to drown myself in sorrow?! Harry, the war is over, why are you still trying to change something?”

“Because I had only one choice, and it brought consequences I can’t stand!”

I stopped. The same problem occurred, he hadn’t changed.

“Harry, did anyone ever told you that you were at fault? That they blamed you? No. Because everyone sees you as a fucking hero, without who we all would’ve been swept off of this world.” I started waving my hands in the air, “has anyone ever said that you were the only one who suffered from the consequences? Look around – everyone had a part of them destroyed in that fight. You are not the only one who feels sad. You are not the only one carrying that burden of lost.” I was breathing heavily at this point. “When will you grow the fuck up and understand that it’s not you against this growing feeling of despair. It’s all of us standing on the same side of that battle. And you are the most important person – the one who stopped the fighting for good. How do you dare still take the blame and act like it’s only you who suffers?”

I looked at him, while he stared me down. I could tell by the look in his eyes that I got to him. Finally.

I took the bowl and ran up the stairs before he had a chance to say anything else. But I stopped in front of the door. Déjà vu feeling took over me as I knocked and carefully opened it.

George was lying in his bed, turned away and facing the wall. He was hugging a pillow so hard his knuckles turned white.
“George…” I put the bowl down and sat on the edge of the bed.

I touched his shoulder gently.

“You really should eat something,” my voice was soft and quiet.

He just shook his head.

“Please? I don’t want you to starve.”

Still nothing.

“I know it hurts…” My voice broke as tears came from nowhere and traveled down my face.

That time he did turn around. His face was red and wet. He looked at me and my heart broke as I saw all of those feelings in his eyes. He was suffering.

“Do you want to hug someone who’s not a pillow?” I asked with a small smile.

He let go of the pillow and hugged me across the shoulders. George was my other brother, making sure that a smile would be on my face at least few times a day. He was the jokester, the humor of this family. But he also was the quiet. I hugged him back, holding him as his shoulders started to twitch.

“How did we get back here?” He talked into my sweater.

“I have no clue… It feels like now I should be the one asking if grieving gets easier. It hit me harder the second time, I wasn’t ready for it.”

He straightened back, wiping away some tears with the back of his hand.

“Imagine having an injury. It hurt the time you got it, but now it’s healing. Now imagine something hitting that same place over again while it hasn’t healed yet.” He tried to explain.

“That sounds horrible…”

“I started to think maybe someone cursed us, the way they do in the muggle world.”

“I don’t think so,” I tried to calm him down. “It’s just an array of events that are out of our control.”

“Do you have any stupid speculation to take your mind away from it all?” He turned to me.

Just looking at him brought pain. This boy has been through so much.

“For me it feels like a net of desperation came down on us. No matter how hard I try to cut the corners and lift it up, the other side remains firmly stuck in the ground.” I looked at my hands. I picked at them from the stress and now they were covered in little scars around my fingernails. I need to remember to heal them when I go home. “I just decided to turn everything off since being a person is a bit too much to endure these days. I let it all out when I’m alone.”

He sat quietly next to me.

“Ron was supposed to help me run the shop…” he said quietly.

At that moment my heart dropped to my heels. George wasn’t only in pain, he felt like he let down both of them – Ron and Fred. He tried so hard to stand up and live so his brother could be proud. It all fell apart again.

“I won’t lie, I’m having a hard time finding the right words to say these days.” I was being honest.

“You don’t need to say anything, you being here helps enough.”

My eyes turned to him.

“You have no idea what I would give away just to take some of that pain of yours away,” I whispered.

“You have enough on your own shoulders, you shouldn’t carry everything on your own.”

The doors opened slightly, Percy’s head stuck out through the crack.

“There you are. I just wanted to thank you for the meal, Hermione.”

“No problem, Percy. I’m glad you enjoyed it. There’s some more left in the kitchen.”

His face light up with a smile as he closed the door and scurried down the stairs.

Yet another funeral. Aren’t you supposed to enjoy summer? It should be the happy and sunny days, when you do what you want and just enjoy life. But here we are, all gathered and dressed in black. Arthur is holding Molly, while she’s on her knees crying out for her lost child. George is further back, he can’t contain his tears too. Bill stands with Fleur, his hands wrapped around her waist. Both of their facial expressions are grey. Harry is holding Ginny, who is close to falling to the ground like her mother. Charlie is standing on the other side, ready to take care of his sister in need. I stand on the opposite side, looking over the entire frame. The details of today’s image don’t look comforting. Many people are standing around the grave, but I care too little about them to try to remember who they are. Faces distorted by pain and sorrow surround the place. If you would look from high up above, you would only see a black dot. No one dares to speak. Few hold handkerchiefs, to collect the tears. Lavender holds a teddy bear close. She got it from Ron while she was in the hospital. I remember seeing him carrying it while leaving the Burrow. I want to believe Fred’s souls also came to this unfortunate event, since his grave is a few feet to the side. It has many candles burning, even some of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products.

Unwillingly I take another photo in my mind.

This is how I will remember the last of you. I will remember you from the ginger hair in contrast of the black clothing. I will remember you from the freckles on faces of the ones that cry for you. I will remember you from the blue skies today that try to imitate the color of your eyes. I will remember you from the smile I see in your family members sometimes.

I look up and notice Harrys face. It’s dead and tired. His tears have already dried up. I’m sure only now he’s beginning to understand that he’ll have to live without his best friend. Ron won’t be there to talk about battle strategies. Ron won’t be there to listen to his thoughts. Ron won’t be there to back him up in an argument with me. I looked at him, feeling sorry for my friend.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” I said in my mind, “this one really isn’t your fault.”

Chapter Text

What is grief? It’s an intense sorrow, especially caused by someone’s death.

There are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Well, according to the scientists who wrote that, I’m not normal. I jumped over the first stage, diving deep into the second one. The day after the funeral I sat on my bedroom floor thinking why. Why was it so easy to believe that heartbreaking fact? After some thinking I came up with two conclusions. The first one is that Ron was dead to me on the inside for a long time. I buried my forced feelings over and over again, always digging them back up in hopes they could come to life. It’s the same as digging up a skeleton, believing it will be a normal person once again. I let my heart grieve for him all those days he was with Lavender instead of home at the Burrow. It hurt back then and it was unbelievable back then. It took time but I started to believe it, so now it was a faster process. The second conclusion is that Ron prepared me for this. It’s like his growing anger issues that spilled out on me were pushing me away. Maybe it was his way of saying goodbye. But I got used to it, to him not being there anymore. He did this himself. It’s because of his own actions that I didn’t even have a speck of doubt. It was simple – he was just gone, and that was just the truth. And, oh boy, was I angry. If he would’ve walked through that door I might’ve just killed him myself. I was mad because he didn’t listen, because he acted stupid. I was furious because he didn’t care the way he should’ve, and I’m not even talking about me. Even if I was a zero in his scale, I would’ve sat there at the bottom without making a sound. I was angry because there, sitting at the bottom I looked to my right and saw his entire family on the same level. I was angry because he threw it all away.

Then I was smart enough to jump over the third stair, welcoming the same sorrow from number four as I did before. I had nothing to bargain with. I told myself long ago that he didn't deserve me to ruin my life for him. Maybe I had a lot to offer for the bargain, but I wanted nothing in return. I couldn't make up anything that would help me now. I couldn't make up anything that would be worth it. Funny, dad said I was never good at bargaining. I always followed the rules too strictly. This habit kept my brain safe from going into endless one-sided conversations about bargaining with the air in front of me. I was somber, but I wasn't crazy. I was sad leading up to this, I am sad during this, and I will be sad after this. The only thing that's different is that with this 'depression' state you didn't only feel sorrow. It hurt from the inside - that was the hardest part. Like every thought that popped up in your head was a new needle poking at you. And sitting at home, with the moon leaving a trail of light on the walls, those thoughts kept multiplying to the point there wasn't a place a needle wouldn't hurt. That's why I would sit still. I would often sit still and look straight. I never saw anything by the way, just didn't want to be left alone with that darkness my eyelids carried. Someone figured out this tactic of mine. Now Charlie, George, Ginny and Fleur knew that if I was sitting still and not blinking - it was bad inside. I would sit so still that my muscles would start hurting. God forgive me if I moved, then I'd be met with a wave of pain. The silent tears flowing from my eyes dulled the pain, but only until they dried out.

As for acceptance - I really don't have much to say. Maybe the effects for this step will appear in the future. As for now I feel… I feel like I do and don't accept at the same time. I accepted the fact he's not here anymore. I accepted that he won't help his family, he won't crack a joke or talk with his siblings and parents. I accepted that I won't see him again. But I can't accept that I lost a friend. I can't because he was one of a few of them I had. I can't accept that everything happened because of his feelings for her. I can't accept that he left us because of his feelings for her. He left me because of his feelings for her.

And, once again, I felt stuck in-between two universes. One of them was the present day – me now. Yet the other was a life that could have been. I have no idea why I started to think about these things right now. I thought about what would be if this was a ‘normal’ life, I was a ‘normal’ girl and that would’ve been a ‘normal’ relationship. In other words – if there wasn’t a magical world. If the muggle world was all that was left. I would probably be jamming out to break up songs, just to cry the next moment. I would tell myself what an amazing boy-friend Ron was and how much I’ll miss him. I would tell the girls that what we had was special and that I’ll never forget him. I would be the one clutching a cheap teddy bear to my chest that he would’ve bought me for Valentine’s Day. I would keep an old photo of us awkwardly hugging under my pillow, hoping that he would visit me in my dreams.

But I don’t feel that. None of it. I don’t talk to myself about what an amazing person he was, I don’t talk about him to others too. Maybe I’d be considered selfish, but I don’t feel like I’m missing him that much too… I miss seeing him as a part of the Weasley family, that’s it. I don’t wish for him to visit me in my dreams. I just don’t need him…

I must admit, I am very scared. But not for the reasons you would think. I don’t want to cause negative thoughts among the Weasleys, but the idea that I don’t feel very different without Ron here is terrifying. My heart flickers not because of the loss or the longing, but from fear of what someone else will say or think about me if they find out. I’m scared it will look like disrespect. And, to be honest, I don’t know how to go about this.

One day passed. Then – the next

A week, and some more.

I was met with the realization that my trip to Hogwarts would be happening in a few days. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Everything came and passed so fast. I thought I was okay, but I was wrong. I got caught up in the spiral trap of time.

With the minimal yearning and the easy-flowing life following the loss I thought I’d be fine. Then reality decided to play tricks on me. Yes, my feelings have been extinguished like wildfire, yet the dangerous mixture of sorrow and confusion flowing through my veins, poisoning my blood held me back. I thought about him more than I liked, though this didn’t grow my longing. I thought about how his life would have evolved, what would he work and what kind of house he would have. I thought about me attending his wedding, only as a guest of course. I couldn’t see myself at the altar, wearing a pearl white dress with a bouquet of flowers in my trembling hands. Not with him. I thought about how many children he would have, and who would they resemble. I imagined Molly finally finding peace at heart with her grandchildren in her arms. I imagined even I would play with those little kids, the same as I do now with Teddy.

I visited his grave. I lit a candle every time I was there. I would stand there, looking at his name engraved on the tombstone, thinking about what to say. In those moments I feared to say too little or too much. Every time I would open my mouth and start speaking about the adventures all three of us had, I would shut up. Feelings would get the best of me, breaking down, my face wet from tears. From the side someone could think I was grieving for a boy, a friend. But that wasn’t the case. I cried because my consciousness was slowly deleting our memories. I couldn’t remember the vivid details following our conversations, the way I remembered everything else. I had a good memory, nothing slipped past my eyes. But now it was beginning to fade.

I forgot what his voice sounded like, what he said. I forgot how that happiness felt when we were younger. But the worst part was everything was fading from my favorite moments. Call me a freak, but at the end of every day I would recall the day and pick out my favorite moments to repeat in my head. As if I drew a line of the day’s passing time and mark a dot on the most pleasing events. Now it felt like someone took an eraser and erased those lines, starting from the simple dots that had the most meaning. That would leave me sobbing at the cemetery, realizing that my own mind was cleansing my head of his toxic behavior I endured. But my head didn’t know me well, that’s why it couldn’t distinguish the good memories from the bad, so, everything disappeared.

I worked myself off, giving all of me to the Weasleys. I was filling these shoes of expectations nobody but me set. Was I trying to fill the empty space of a son, a brother? I could never do that… And I hated myself for it. I hated that I couldn’t make everything good again even if I understood it was not in my hands to fix. I cleaned and baked, and took care of everything. Yet, at the end of the day I was left unsatisfied. Like I could’ve done more. Fleur was working hard too, only her presence resembled more of a delicate swan, whereas I resembled a clumsy cat, like Crookshanks. She would often ask and even demand that I would take some time off and relax. I never found the right words to explain that I couldn’t stop this race against life I started. I was racing for a better future for the Weasleys, for Molly’s wellbeing, for the Weasley sibling smiles. Even Harry noticed it.

“Hermione, take a break. You’ve been working since the morning…” he spoke so softly I wasn’t sure it was him. I hadn’t noticed how dark it got outside, I’ve been so caught up with my dosing off.

“I can’t, I need to finish.” I answered, using all of my last energy to portion, label and put away the new batch of fresh Calming Draught and Dreamless Sleep Potions for Molly.

“Hermione,” Harry took me by the hand and I turned to him, “leave it. We can finish the work for you. You need to rest, you look awful.”

And he wasn’t lying. In the reflection on his glasses I saw my face, but I wouldn’t call it that. My face had become pale, only dark circles outlining my eyes like a panda. My hair, that was detained and put in a tight bun in the morning, was now disheveled and sticking out like antennas. What signal was I trying to catch? The calmness of my mind couldn’t be achieved.

So, here I was. Packing my trunk for a new school year. All the books and potion making supplies neatly found their places near the hopes of finding my own peace. I was impatient about Molly’s grief that took so long to go away, but now I understood her. Maybe it wasn’t longing or the loss of a close member that fueled my disturbance. It was the pieces of me scattering back on the ground every time I thought I got it all back together. I prayed that something would take my mind of things, helping me to move on from this shutdown. But how was I supposed to achieve it? Making new friends? How the hell would I do that, taking into account that it was my final year? Gosh, I think this will have to be another impromptu performance.

A picture fell out of a book I was handling. I picked it up and three faces stared back at me. A girl with bushy brown hair, brown eyes and large front teeth. Next to her was a smiling boy with a thin face, black hair and bright green eyes. On his left stood another boy - tall, thin and gangling, with freckles and a long nose. My smile was unrecognizable, Madam Pomfrey is to thank for that. My hair had been tamed by now, finding the natural curl in it. Still, when I looked closer, I could see the lie behind those brown eyes. That girl was happy, I’ll give you that. But she was suffering from thoughts of not being enough, from fear that one day these only friends of hers would leave. I’m so glad I underwent that parting later and that little girl could be happy having her best friends around for a bit longer. As time passed, still staring at the photo, I understood the hard truth – nothing would replace the friendship we had once. New things could only cover up or push it down to the deepest parts of my brain. Yet nothing and no one that stepped in wouldn’t fit those silhouettes.

Back at Kings Cross station. Standing on the platform Nine and Three-Quarters, getting ready to step on the train for one of the last routes to Hogsmeade station. My parents were catching up with the Weasleys, talking dearly as if they were friends from childhood. George helped me with my trunk. Ginny sobbed into Harry’s shoulder while he looked around cautiously. Students from different years moving around, shouting and laughing.

“Ginny, we have to go,” I carefully approached the couple after hugging goodbye with my parents.

Ginny nodded and recoiling gifted Harry with a passionate kiss. He was in a short shock before savoring these moments. Me and Ginny would come back on Christmas, but they have gotten used to being together all the time and this parting would bring some discomfort.

We got on the train and waved to the people on the other side of the window. Soon they all turned into an array of passing colors as the train gathered its speed. Ginny went on to look for her friends. She did invite me to join her, but I politely declined. I found an empty compartment and positioned myself closest to the window. My current book found its way to my hands and the letters started forming sentences in my head soon. My eyes would wander off to the window from time to time, getting the rest they needed. It felt weird. After so many times of taking this train I sat alone. Not including second year of course. It’s like the lights weren’t the ones lighting up the entire compartment on those long journeys, it was our conversations. Our words left shadows on the walls, spilling out with every jump of railing. Nervous comfort settled in. I wanted to remember everything.

*Clink*

Another photo in my mind with worn out seat cushions. A big framed window in the middle between two seats. Metal shelves for overhead storage. Sliding glass doors, covered in handprints. Faintly yellow flickering lights. The atmosphere of calm I didn’t want to let go.

My reading was interrupted a few hours later with a clicking sound. The doors slid open and a familiar face appeared. He stared at me for a few moments. Maybe he didn’t recognize me, it had been a long time since we saw each other. Maybe he was confused seeing me here. Then a low bass caught his vocal chords.

“Can I..?” Blaise Zabini asked, unsure of the thing he questioned.

His eyes looked at the empty seat in front of me before turning back to me. I followed his glance and answered.

“Of course.”

He silently closed the door behind him and sat down. He was well mannered, respectful of personal space. That’s why he didn’t trespass mine, well, mostly. I caught him looking at me a couple of times when he didn’t think I’d notice.

The next hours passed silently. I would catch myself having to reread some of the lines in my book because I would drift off again. I looked at Blaise and tried to study him from the new perspective of human psychology I learned. He was always lean, yet it seemed he lost even more weight. His cheeks became somewhat shallow, jawline pooping out sharp. His face always had the same expression of nothingness. It's his eyes that spoke the language of emotions. His lips were almost always pressed shut in a line, I would guess this habit grew from the shame of showing emotions his parents could have given off. As far as I knew he was a quiet kid. I started to think about where he was during the war. If he fought or ran. And if he did have the courage to stand up with his wand in his hands, did we shot spells for the same reasons, the same beliefs? I chuckled in my mind. It wouldn't matter which side he took, if Harry saw me sitting in the same compartment with a slytherin he would still say "You're fraternizing with the enemy!" Wait, no... That was Ron's line...

Suddenly a figure appeared in the doors, pulling them open and staring at the boy in front of me.

"There you are. Been looking for you."

His voice went silent as soon as he saw me. Draco Malfoy had changed a lot. Physically, I mean. His silver locks were still neatly slicked back, with a few strands hanging loose. I didn't want to admit it but it suited him. But the similarities of him before and after the war stopped at his grey eyes, ever so deep and mysterious. His face had too been shallowed, the color got paler if that's possible. Even though his figure slimmed down muscles formed on his arms, well as much as I saw. I didn't think he would change mentally. Even now sitting in his visual field I expected to hear those bullying lines in his cold tone. I got used to this weapon of his, always shooting bullets, looking how much damage each one provided. In those seconds of his stare, I myself came up with some of them. "How can you even breathe in the same compartment as this mudblood?" "Have you sat here to level out the scales of purity in blood? I'm sure with the both of you still a half-blood wouldn’t come out."

But he was silent. He looked at me for a while, his eyes trailed over me on the last seconds before he turned to his friend.

"I wasn't up for talks," Blaise answered simply.

Draco's gaze fell back on me as if thinking "you'd better be here? With her?" But no words representing his mind came out.

"I was about to go get dressed, you're with me?"

Since when was Draco Malfoy so nice? It had come as a shock to me, I wasn't used to hearing him talk so politely. Actually, I hadn't heard him in so long I forgot the cold tones his voice possessed. But it seemed his voice had also gotten an upgrade. I hated to admit it but those chilling vibrations of his vocal chords scratch a part of my brain in the right way. Like I could listen to it for a long time and not get bored. His voice seemed soothing, like poising flowing from his tongue...

WHAT THE HELL HERMIONE? WHAT AM I THINKING?

They both disappeared behind the doors while I wanted to hit my head on that window and leave a mark of my stupidity. But I needed to change into uniform too, that was my next move.

The trip in the carriages was silent. I sat with Ginny, Luna and Neville. None of us dared to speak. It was so quiet you could hear the sticks crunching under the wheels as we passed the forest. Night was falling, pulling a blanket of stars over the world. Seeing the castle in all its glory made my heart flicker. The lights from its windows gave off a welcoming feeling. Stone walls were standing strong once again. Any imprint of the war was erased, you couldn’t even tell that half of the castle was mostly ruins three months ago. This made me feel uneasy. Shouldn’t we be proud of our history? Surely it was one of the most important historical events that happened on these same grounds. But looking at the standing castle it seemed like nothing ever happened here and the war was just a nightmare that’s too hard to forget.

We walked inside, the surge of magic filling up our lungs as air. Here I felt powerful, talented. Here I felt like I was enough.

The big corridors reminded of our experiences back in the day. When it felt like this castle was a separate world, too big to ever be explored whole. So many unrevealed secrets, hidden passages and mysteries waiting to be solved. The desire to start a new adventure fueled my running blood. But soon that blood went cold. How am I supposed to go on adventures, reveal secrets and do all those fun thing without my friends? Maybe I was smart, but that wasn’t near enough. In that moment I understood that those adventure seeking moments were my life. It was the only thing I breathed for. Gosh, I even studied all for it, using my wits to contribute in out trio journeys. How am I supposed to just let that lifestyle go? How can I sit calmly, knowing that some mysteries are bound to be solved? Either I do it alone or not do anything. Both ways I’ll be the only one feeling the emptiness of something I thrived for back then.

My doubts about the forgotten history were silenced as soon as I walked near the great hall. McGonagall loved every single of the castles students dearly. That’s why the walls just outside the giant doors were covered in paintings of faces that I thought I’d never see again. Students of different ages smiled at me, with a glimmer of proudness for their bravery. Every single kid that died in the battle wouldn’t leave us, they would stay here, with everyone, in the heart of Hogwarts itself.

Ginny sat next to me at the gryffindor table, Neville right in front of us on the other side. All tables were missing chunks of the houses residents. Empty spots which would soon grow full of newcomers. Seeing this view made me sad, it felt the unity of us was missing something. The ghosts, ever so caring, decided to fill in some of the gaps, sitting next to students, telling the stories of their lifetime. I saw Nearly Headless Nick down the table, babbling away about the headless hunt.

Then the doors opened and Hagrid leaded a row of scared little first-year students that were walking neatly in line like ants. They winced from every sound, looking around like scared animals. Yet fear in their eyes was soon replaced with fascination, some couldn’t help but open their mouths in awe. Seeing these little lives I thought to myself that it was worth it. That I will fight a hundred wars more just to lay a safe foundation in these children’s lives. I remember the very day I was standing there, at the end of these long four tables. Many kids around me were coming up with different reasons for the enchantments and how they work. I was the nerd who silenced every wrong guess and academically explained the function of each individual speck of magic. Back then they already looked at me like I was crazy. But I wasn’t crazy, I was interested beyond reason. Every line, every fact from those history books were engraved in my mind, coming up with a quick answer whenever someone had a question. It was the sorting hat which gave me confidents for my knowledge and interest in learning. Even though I’m a proud gryffindor, I could’ve easily been a ravenclaw. After the sorting I tried my best to never be ashamed of my intelligence, for it can provide a lot of advantages.

The kids got sorted one after the other. Every house supported a new student at their table clapping, shouting and hugging the little frightened wizards and witches. Gryffindor was the loudest, the whole hall echoed from the cheers after the sorting hat would shout “GRYFFINDOR”. Yet I felt the instinct of a bigger sister and got worried that the slytherins wouldn’t get the students exited. But when I looked over to their table I caught a glance of grey just leaving my face. He turned away instantly. Weird, Malfoy never had time to even look at the hideous mudblood. But my heart calmed down when I saw the new little slytherins smiling and talking to the older students. I didn’t have the chance to get back at my thoughts since Ginny tugged on my sleeve.

“Is it bad that looking at them, I imagine mine and Harry’s child there?” She asked, smiling at the swarm of black cloaks in the front.

“No,” I shook my head, “I think it will be amazing when they attend.”

“I’m so happy that the war is over. New possibilities are scattered around and I can feel safe knowing that once I start my family it will all be peaceful.” She put her head on my shoulder.

“I hope.” I thought to myself.

I do believe that we should always think three steps ahead. Planning isn’t stupid - it’s necessary. You never know what might happen tomorrow, even in an hour. That’s why it’s dangerous to live in a dream world, you have to always be ready for anything. But in this second I didn’t want to agree with myself. I felt the urge to just let go, throw all that thinking about the future aside and just live. What’s the point of carefully arranging tiles for your path and then following it? Is our life a game to be played strictly, not only by the rules but by the limits we corner ourselves into? I want to be relaxed this year. To experience something that makes me feel good not just because it adds odds to my future, but because it just feels good.

The group of first-years ended and McGonagall got up. Everyone went silent, thousands of eyes locked on her.

“Welcome, everyone,” she started, her voice stern, “I must admit, I’m not very good at speeches, but I felt silence wasn’t the best way to start a new year.”

She swallowed.

“I wanted to take this time to welcome our new students. You’re in good hands, and help will always be given at Hogwarts to those in need.” She looked over the pinkish faces, sitting in the front of the tables. “I also wanted to take time to remember,” her voice cracked, “remember the cruel we had to suffer through. It is so unfair that these strong walls, which became so sacred, couldn’t save many. I wish that all of you don’t forget about our recent history, about the brave souls that fought and didn’t make it just so we could have a normal life again. Outside in the corridor you probably saw the array of paintings, depicting the students we lost. They deserved so much more than just to have themselves drawn in colors, they deserved the peace that followed the end of war. I am thankful to all who fought in these very halls, who gave a piece of themselves away. You are all gifted with bravery, patience and thoughtfulness. And I, as the headmistress, am proud to have all of you here today, united by the magic flowing in us. I’m proud of these students who lived through hell to bring heaven. Thank you all.“ Applause interrupted as she smiled to the whole great hall. “Now I wish for all of us to have a moment of silence for the lives lost.”

Everyone was calm, quiet. Seemed like you could hear heartbeats from all sides. I looked over, Ginny was brushing away a tear. We all took a moment to remember the brave, smart, loyal and cunning. Some faces popped up in my mind. Snape, Fred, Colin… The world would be better with them here. Snape would sit with the teachers, looking over the first-years and scanning for the ones who could cause trouble. Fred would like to visit, selling his and George’s candy in Hogsmeade. Colin would talk with the new students, muttering everything in one breath and smiling so wide no one would believe is possible.

“Thank you, and now – the feast.” McGonagall left the stand and food appeared on the tables.

It overfilled everyone’s plates with tasty goodness that left you drooling. The first-years had calmed down a bit, now smiling in shock from the magical delivery of food. Everyone dug in, not wasting a second without a full mouth.

After the feast everyone stood at the door, letting the first-years through as they followed the prefects. Ginny was somewhere further away with her friends while I stood near the wall. I scanned the faces which were happy and a bit embarrassed in front of older students. You could tell they were all excited to start this new journey.

I felt a breath on my shoulder and turned my face just slightly to look at who it was. And I froze noticing Draco Malfoy right behind me. “This is the closest we’ve ever been” I thought, and that thought sent shivers down my spine for some reason. He looked at me for some time before bumping into me as he passed by. Strange.

Hagrid was waiting outside the great hall.

“Oi, Hermione!” He waved and I came closer.

“Hagrid, it’s so nice to see you,” he hugged me with his giant palms.

“You too.” He straightened back up.

Ginny approached us and he gave her the same warm welcome.

“Ye grew up, both of ye,” he smiled, “did ye saw the first years? They’re so short.”

He started laughing.

“I’m glad you are the one guiding them into this new scary world, I can’t imagine anyone else in that position.” I said.

“Thanks, I was glad too when I found out. By the way, McGonagall’s wanting you in ‘er office. Better be on your way.” He looked at his clock.

We waved goodbye and hurried to the headmistress.

“What do you think she wants from us?” Ginny asked while we climbed the stairs.

“I’m not sure, maybe something about our schedules.”

She looked at me with a smile.

“There’s our Hermione, jumping straight into work.”

We both giggled and went on.

I barely raised my hand to knock when we heard her voice.

“Come on in.”

Inside we froze, seeing that we weren’t the only ones here. Malfoy stood to the side of her table.

“Hold on, mister Malfoy.” McGonagall’s voice rang. “Hello, girls, I’m happy to see you. Come on up.”

Slowly walking up I noticed Draco wasn’t looking at our direction. We stopped at the front of the table.

“First thing, I wanted to express my condolence. The loss was… unexpected and if I or the staff can help in any way, let me know.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, studying our reactions, but he was the least I cared about. Her words brought me back to the cruel reality. Ron was gone, not everyone could speak out about that and I understood that we would be hearing about it for a while. I wasn’t scared of it, I can’t even say that I’m someone who should get this kind of sympathy. I wasn’t his family. Well, maybe from the outside it looked like our friendship was everything, that’s why. But I was worried about Ginny. If all the comments about her brother’s death would fall on her shoulders she could break. It’s hard to live with that weight of loss on its own, but it’s worse when people around start talking and reminding it every passing second. Even now I saw her eyes fill up with tears. I silently hugged her around the shoulders.

“You two are very strong and I can only imagine how hard it is.” McGonagall’s voice seemed dulled, as if she was holding back tears too.

Strong, weak. Who is the one to decide who’s strong and who’s not? Me and Ginny are both weak and strong in many different ways. Only we express it differently. Ginny usually shows emotions, only reduced. I, on the other hand, can’t do that. I listen and am strong for everyone else, but when I’m alone – I break. I break so hard I question if putting myself back is a possible solution. Should I be strong for myself?

“I wanted to discuss some things with Hermione, so you, Ginny, can go rest.” McGonagall said softly.

Ginny nodded and turned away.

“Goodnight, professor.” I saw her lifting her hands to her face. That meant that McGonagall’s words got to her.

“Hermione, I didn’t have to think about this for long,” the headmistress said. “I just couldn’t seem to pinpoint your location to tell you.”

She looked up at me.

“I’m sorry, professor, I’ve been spending all of my time at the Burrow, the Weasleys needed some help…”

“It’s okay, I understand,” she nodded her head, “well, I decided to make you head girl.”

She extended her arm with the ‘head girl’ pin between her fingers.

“I know you are capable of the responsibility. You’ve grown so much mentally, and I hope this won’t be a burden.”

“Of course it won’t be,” I said, taking the pin and twisting it around. “Thank you, professor. Is there any more information?”

“Not much, only that very few slytherins came back for a seventh-year,” she looked at Malfoy, whose gaze was fixed somewhere far away, “in an attempt to save some of the professors’ time I decided to link the classes of their house to some others. I do not think that a half-empty class would bring a good atmosphere.”

I nodded. It seemed logical, no?

“So you will share some classes. I hope the arrogance has been knocked out from some of them.”

The corner of her eyes fell on Malfoy again.

Hold on, why was he here?

“I also wanted to ask a favor.”

“Yes, professor?” Why was I nervous?

“You see, mister Malfoy fell behind in the last year he was here. I was hoping you could help him get back on track, or just help in general.” Her eyes laid on me.

I turned to Malfoy, now he was staring somewhere off to the side.

“You’re a smart girl and I can’t think of anyone who could help as much as you. This would take away the stress from some of the professors.”

I thought for a moment. Malfoy fell behind and he needs to put in effort to graduate this year. She’s asking me to be his… mentor of a kind. This might mean one-on-one meetings with him. But I can always end them. But what if he starts insulting me? I can always report him. But what if he doesn’t show up? A lot of reasons for and against, like armies, standing on the opposite sides of the battlefield. Yet one stuck out most.

But he need help.

And wasn’t I the one who helped everyone? Didn’t I want to spread positivity? I felt so responsible for the Weasleys that now I needed that responsibility filled up again. It felt like a void without it. And who better to push down that void that Draco Malfoy? I hope it will turn out fine…

“I’ll help.” Two words escaped my mouth.

That was all it took for Malfoys eyes to sparkle in a way I didn’t yet understand.

Chapter Text

The first days went by smoothly. While everyone was complaining about classes, I was glowing. Routines were easy for me, I never struggled to get myself together in the mornings, I was never late to class. It was nostalgic to walk in those corridors again, to watch the light creep in through those big fancy windows. The scent of magic laying thick and leading us forward. I loved the echoes of empty halls. Don’t get me wrong, I liked when they were filled with thousands of footsteps and giggling. Yet something about that silence of emptiness sent shivers down my spine making me feel alive. It dropped a veil of calmness on me, sometimes making me feel like a ghost myself.

I found my way to the library almost instantly. The sun was gifting this autumn with warm light, making the spaces between bookshelves feel more like home. I could stroll between wooden boxes, filled with binded parchment all day. Something about that placed seemed sacred. You could get all your answers there, no matter if it’s from a book or a long thinking session.

In the common room, I had the whole room to myself. None of the gryffindor girls from my year came back. I could’ve been housed with the sixth-year girls, such as Ginny. They were in the sixth-year since everyone agreed that lessons during Snape’s headmaster’s time were inoperative. But I was happy that they didn’t put me with them. I liked Ginny and her classmates, but I liked my personal space more. They squeezed my room down since it only had to accommodate one. Still I got lucky, and the window became a priceless painting, delivering landscapes in the day, and starry nights in the dark. I could sit, lay on the ground without anyone questioning my choices. I could read into the night and talk to myself out loud. I could let my emotions out without anyone knowing. It’s just easier.

Yet the first lessons went by… differently. Each professor started their teaching with a speech about the war, consequences and loss of many. There weren’t a lot of seventh-years, less than from any other year. And I found I lost all connections with my former classmates. Yes, communicating with some of them, like Neville, was easy, but it didn’t feel like he was a good friend of mine. As McGonagall said, slytherins joined some of our courses. There were even fewer of them.

Still, I couldn’t get that conversation with Neville out of my head… It wasn’t anything important. We had gotten back from the first classes. I was getting my stuff at the common room when he came up.

“Hello, Hermione, how have you been? Long time since I’ve seen ya,” he said.

“Oh hi, Neville. I’m… fine. And you? How was your summer?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m okay, after helping Hogwarts I spent time with my grandmother. Nothing much, you know?” His smile betrayed the awkwardness of the moment.

It was the distance that made me overthink everything. We had gotten close over the past years, becoming good friends and helping each other. But the prolonged summer stretch the tightrope of our friendship out further. But it wasn’t him who moved along with it, it was me. I felt emotionally disconnected with this person I knew, even talking with him felt somewhat… unknown. Like he was a stranger that I met not long ago.

Did life pull me away to another universe? Where are all those emotions and feelings, where are the connections and familiarities? I’m lost. How do I get that feeling of sincere closeness back? With who?

But I couldn’t spend any time on thinking now, I had to get ready for tomorrow’s classes.

McGonagall was glowing. Coming back to her natural habitat of teaching drove her forward with the gas pedal down all the way. She talked with her hands, energy flowing and filling up the class. The sun lazily left golden rays on the floor. Half of the students sleeping, other half – pretending to be listening. I was copying every word in my notes. My quill running on the parchment as if in a race. And I was in a race. A race against the number of McGonagall’s spoken words in a minute. Minute by minute.

Time flew soundlessly. I blinked as everyone were packing their stuff and leaving. Already? Gosh, I need to break the habit of dosing off. I stood up, fiddling with the inked parchment, trying to find the best way to carry it without smudging.

“Miss Granger,” I heard from the front of the class. I looked up as McGonagall’s eyes met mine, “could we have a word?”

“Yes, professor,” I answered, coming up to her table.

“How are your first days back?” She asked with a dazzling smile.

“Great, I feel like I’m… home.”

She nodded.

“Ah yes, I’m glad you’re comfortable.” She put her hands together. “I wanted to discuss a matter. Have you been in touch with Malfoy?”

I stood there, startled.

“Professor?” I asked.

“Well, about the tutoring,” she waved her hand.

Oh, right. I was so caught up in my regime I forgot the ‘little favor’ I agreed on.

“Oh, um, no,” I searched for my words. “I thought it be best if I waited some time. To get used to being back here, you know?”

“That’s kind of you, but I’m afraid we don’t have the time to sit around. It be best if you found out how much work this will take, and if you make great progress – you’ll have the end of the year to yourself.”

“Yes, professor.” I started to think how bad could it actually be.

“In fact, I’m having mister Malfoy later in class, do you want me to pass any information to him?” She seemed eager to push the matter now.

“Um,” I flipped my schedule in my head, searching for a gap that I could fill with this tutoring, “tell him to meet me tomorrow in the library. At seven in the evening.”

McGonagall nodded her head in agreement.

“Thank you, miss Granger, you’re saving our time.”

“No problem, professor.”

I smiled to her and left the classroom. My head was starting to buzz like a beehive, but I had to contain those thoughts. At least until the evening.

Pushing through the rest of the day with my head in a blur was hard, yet still I found some place for new learning theory. I sat through some more classes and when dinnertime rolled around I felt drained. I was so exhausted my mind just shut down. Walking in the great hall all I could hear was white noise, even though I saw the lips of many students moving. I sat somewhere in the middle of the gryffindor table. Many others were piled up in groups, chatting away about the lectures they had and complaining about the amount of homework given.

“It’s only the first weeks. If this is the homework for the start, what will await us next?!” One kid whispered way too loudly.

“I’m telling you, ever since he saw me two days ago he can’t help but stare at me” girls on the other side giggled in excitement.

“My guess is that professor Binns died of boredom. Have you been to any of his classes?”

“My parents swore to write me every day, but I guess our owl got lost again.”

I had a few bites before standing back up and walking out. I didn’t have an appetite. Yet something was beginning to blossom in the pit of my stomach. The feeling drenched me as soon as the door of my room was closed. I just felt empty for a few moments. I walked over to the bed, feeling like zombie.

Then, like a secret attack, dozens of thoughts interrupted my brain. Feeling like I couldn’t take it anymore I sat down and covered my head with my hands. It seemed there wasn’t enough space for the amount of different voices talking in my head. I swayed a bit, trying to calm them down like a baby. Soon the lingering silence felt calm, I could think on my own, whatever I wanted. There were so many topics to analyze.

It was almost the end of the second week. I felt more alive than ever, always on my feet and running around. Yet now a little voice in the back of my mind whispered in a weak voice. The feeling of guilt filled me up right to my throat. Why is it there? Isn’t it better that I’m happy now? Still the guilt of forgetting the people who were once the most important here settled. How could I forget my ex-bestfriends? The ones who showed me what it feels like to breathe a little in between classes. The ones who let me spill my knowledge out even if they didn’t need it. The ones who trusted me and made me feel like I did have a purpose. Well, for a while that was. Later on I just became the one who knew all the answers. ‘Oh, you have a question? Go to our own human google Hermione over here, she can tell you what to do.’ A dork, always too invested in literature and holding on for dear life on every word that slipped out of a teacher’s mouth. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Didn’t I have to be a nerd at the start, and a friend at the end? There is a saying that the tables ‘turn’. Well, mine did a backflip or something.

Still I needed to understand where was all of that guilt coming from. I’ve been angry at them for a while. Now they can’t reach me and I can finally live, move on, start a new chapter. Huh, maybe it’s Ron, sitting up there in the clouds, playing with the people around me like chess. No matter what it was I couldn’t seem to hold that happiness for more than a few hours. I still caught myself looking over my shoulder frequently. Students around might think that I’m trying to catch someone’s attention. Truth is, I’m just trying to see if my friends are following behind. But every time I stop in my tracks and realize that they’ve been left far behind. Ron froze in time, becoming a memory I’m not sure where to place. And Harry is drifting away, just like sand – moving slowly, silently and unnoticeably. That was when I realized why I wasn’t able to let go and let myself be happy without them. This is not my world, it was ours. The world of witches and wizards might have been alive for centuries, but we built our own little world inside it. Brick by brick. Now I wasn’t able to leave it and step out. I felt trapped in the bubble we made for ourselves. Funny thing, we made it for all of us, but only I’m left there. I didn’t feel ready to walk out and admit that there was no longer ‘us’. That it was only ‘me’.

The “H. R. H.” world. Harry, Ron and Hermione. From most important, to, well, less. Still, these names stood out in our time. Friends, best friends, trio, golden trio… what are we now? Mourners? Strangers? Just… people? Gosh, I need to stop thinking about this. Nothing will change no matter what solutions I come up with. I don’t have enough of a magnet to pull me away from this metal I’m stuck on.

I have to learn how to live alone. Just me, just Hermione. Not a best friend, not a part of a trio. Yet creating a solo story seems too much work now. I know what I’m capable of, I know I’m smart, but that won’t help me in creating a new life here. I need a new persona, someone I could be remembered as just myself, since now I’m nothing without my friends in the eyes of others.

But maybe they’re right, maybe I am nothing without them.

Another thing to think about is this ‘Malfoy situation”. I’m always keen on helping others, but what about him? A simple talk will give me enough information to make a detailed schedule on what he needs to relearn. Then I need to plan meetings every… month? Two weeks? I’ll decide that later. Also I’ll need to make a list of books that he should read for theory. Wait, will he need practice? If that’s the case, then I’ll need a classroom full of ingredients and other stuff. The Room of Requirement should help. And if he starts spitting mouthfuls of insults? I’ll proudly lift my head and say goodbye. Wait, will I?

It’ll be interesting, communicating with him again. He’ll just probably won’t talk unless it’s something about the tutoring. But will that make me sad? I’m not a saint, I do have an interest in gossip. Not that I would call this gossip, but getting to know what happened to the Malfoys after the war? Well, spill the tea! Yet everyone probably knows about that now, giving my summer life was equal to living under a rock. Maybe he found new friends and started to become a better person. Maybe he didn’t.

The morning was unforgiving. My eyes were wide open way earlier than they should’ve been. And no matter what I did, they couldn’t be shut close again. So I got up, got dressed and with my disheveled hair left the castle for a morning stroll on the grounds. The nature was drowning in fog, like a blanket was covering her while she slept. The birds sang a quiet melody, only understandable to them. I sat on a rock near the Black Lake to listen some more. The song had beautiful rhythms, jumping unexpectedly. We’re not so different from birds, I thought. Only they understand the music they create. While to us they seem beautiful creatures, singing different notes, it could all be way darker. For instance this morning melody could be a cry for help, a scream of someone tearing apart at the seams, and we would still think ‘wow, this sounds wonderful’. People do this too. Not everyone can see through you. If I’d put on a smile and sit in the common room amongst other gryffindors they wouldn’t even know I’m questioning my life every day. They don’t know me well enough to see what I actually am.

Fresh air in my lungs helped me to wake up. I came back to gather my books. This time on the way out I brushed my hair back as much as I could, and tied it up into a bouncing ponytail.

The fog was only the start to a gloomy day. It started to rain at lunch. All the students who were enjoying time outside ran back in and started to shake like dogs, trying to get their friends beside them wet. They were laughing so hard that the echo most probably traveled all the way up the moving staircase.

It stayed like that for the rest of the day.

After my classes I spent some time in my room doing homework, trying to get as much done as possible. Yet the clock didn’t give me the opportunity to finish McGonagall’s task, as it announced it was time to go. I got to the library five minutes earlier. But how could I be so stupid? I didn’t tell Malfoy where to meet me. Cursing myself in my head I started to walk along the shelves, hoping to spot silver hair and grey eyes. And after some time I did. Draco was sitting far from other students, closer to the widows. I rushed over there and took a seat in front of him.

“Uh, hi,” I stuttered.

He only turned to look at me.

“How’s the start of school?” I had no clue what to ask.

“Really?” He asked as if I was joking. “Do I have to ask ‘how was your morning walk’ now?”

It came to me as a surprise. I haven’t heard his voice in a while. It seemed cold, yet so… delicate. His tone was one you could get used to. It flowed off his tongue like a running river. I believed that if I could touch his voice it would feel silky smooth. If he would talk for a longer time it might even work as a lullaby.

I got so lost in his magic that only the truth blew away the mist.

“Wait what? You were following me?!” I almost screamed.

He rolled his eyes.

“Trust me - following you is on the bottom of my agenda list.”

“Then how did you find out?” I couldn’t just leave this topic.

“I saw you leave the castle,” he said sighing, “although you looked like a psychopath. Sitting there alone and staring into a dot in front of you.”

“I was… thinking.” My words got lost for a moment.

“I don’t care,” he cut off coldly.

That’s true, why would he care? Why am I looking for excuses?

“Let’s get to work then,” I said, pulling out my quill and parchment.

Malfoy sat still, looking away. His gaze was pointed through the window, deep into the night. I saw his reflection in the glass. It seemed he could travel down those paths outside with just his bare glance. That was enough for him to leave reality, to disconnect. He soared through the sky on the other side of the wall like a bird, twisting itself to avoid raindrops. None of his feathers got wet, but his journey wasn’t finished. I saw it in his eyes – he was tired from all of it. Only now it dawned on me what a nightmare his life must’ve been. With his parents switching sides practically last minute the pain was neutralized, but they still had a dark history creeping behind them like a shadow. The problem was that everyone saw that shadow no matter if it was daylight or nighttime. A burden of hatred from half of the world fell on their shoulders, his included. He just wanted to be done. And for that I found us similar. Maybe I didn’t need to experience such hard times, but after the war nothing was the same.

I snapped out of it.

“So,” I cleared my throat, “I decided to gather information from you and your notes about what you studied, what you remember and what needs to be looked over.”

He didn’t even move.

“I’d appreciate if next time you would bring me everything you have written down.”

“Why?” He spoke.

I looked at him.

“Like I told a minute ago, so that I could gather information and…”

“I heard that, but why do you need that? I thought that the Granger’s calendar was full already, you wouldn’t have time for that.”

This question caught be out of the blue.

“I think it’s obvious, no? So I could have the details of how much you know and what topics need to be touched.” I shrugged, “besides, I want to take this seriously. Don’t you want to be finished with it? The more you learn the faster and easier you’ll reach the end.”

He stared at me for a minute.

“And why would you spend your time on something so tedious like this? On someone like me?” He raised his eyebrows.

I let out a breath.

“Because I like to do my job correctly. And I’m not so packed on activities like you think.”

‘I also need something to get my mind off of things’ I thought to myself.

“Ah, that’s right, without your best friends you don’t have much to do during the days.” He concluded.

I froze.

Why did he had to bring it up? I had enough thoughts about it already, I didn’t need him jumping on this wound too.

“Anyway,” I tried to act like nothing happened, “I’ll be waiting for your notes next time.”

My voice shook a bit before becoming neutral and callous.

He still caught the change.

“Did I hit a sensitive spot?” He asked, almost bored.

“No,” ‘yes’, “we met up to talk about other things.”

He looked at me, almost scanning and waiting for an alarm to go off.

“Go ahead then,” he waved his hand.

“Well, do you remember what the last thing you learned in potions was?” My quill was leaving ink traces behind.

“No,” what a lovely small talker he is.

“Transfiguration? Charms?” I was trying to find something to start off of.

“No.”

I blinked.

“Herbology?” I tried again.

“No.”

I let out a sigh.

“Well, can you at least tell me what you remember from the lessons in general?”

“Nothing.”

I raised my eyes.

“Seriously?”

“What did you expect?” He shot back, his eyes glistening cold. “That I’d be a perfect student, remembering every single term that rolls off a professor’s tongue?”

I got lost.

“Um, no,” I blinked, “I just want to help you.”

He pinched his nose bridge.

“The only information I can give you is that I don’t remember anything.” He concluded.

I just stared down and nodded. After a few minutes of silence he took a sharp breath.

“This is pathetic,” he murmured under his breath and, loudly sliding his chair back, stood up before storming off.

I was left speechless. Just sitting there and wondering what have I gotten myself into.

Next day came the weekend and I was ready to relax a little. But not too much of course. While many wondered off to Hogsmeade I stayed in the castle. After breakfast and a quick trip to the library I gathered my stuff and went outside. I wanted to enjoy the last warm autumn breeze before the sun took on colder temperatures. Now the weather was perfect for sitting outside, doing whatever. While picking up some books a letter fell out. That’s right – during breakfast an owl landed almost perfectly into my porridge bowl. Spitting out a letter it flopped its wings knocking down a few pieces of toast and rose up. I stuffed the message into my bag but forgot about it.

It was from Arthur.

“Dear Hermione,

I wanted to fulfill your request and update you on everything going on here.

It feels like Molly is cemented in the Burrow’s ground while the rest of us are on rotation to helping her. Time stopped and we’re still moving, but the effort isn’t making a difference. Charlie, thankfully, stayed. He leaves the house sometimes, helps George out in the shop. Talking ‘bout George, well, he isn’t himself. It’s all understandable but it seems he felt a little better with you here. You always had a talent of adapting to anyone you talk to. No one needed to pretend something. You were a safe place, a safe person to talk to. Bill visits sometimes, his job has become harder, you can see it from his under eyes. Fleur is a wonder, she keeps Molly company often. I feel bad that we’re taking away the joy of creating ones own family. Still she assures us that everything is fine. Harry rarely shows up. The first few days he was here all the time but after that he just comes to say ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’. I can’t imagine what it feels like to lose a best friend right after the war. Molly is holding up for now, although I’m afraid that soon she can break down. I’m trying to stay by her side but sometimes I run out of words to say. I wish to speak about him, about them, but as soon as she hears those two names she drowns in tears of pain and loss.

I’m very thankful for all your help during the summer, we really couldn’t have done it without you. We’re glad we can call you family. If you need anything feel free to write me.

Also, how is the school year going? How is Ginny?

Sincerely,

Arthur Weasley”

The parchment laid in my palms, a single drop falling down close enough to blur some letters together. I wiped my face with the back of my hand. It’s easy to tell that he was writing this in a hurry, maybe even over the span of a few days. The sentences are strict, straight to the point. I did ask him for updates before leaving. I’m not sure what I expected. The words hit hard like stones. It was good knowing that the rest of Weasley siblings are helping their parents. Yet those are not the words that stuck. ‘I can’t imagine what it feels like to lose a best friend right after the war’. Yes, you can’t, because your pain is much greater than the one Harry is experiencing. And if Harry thinks he’s the only one hurting, he should be put back in his place. Losing a son is hard for parents, let alone losing two. I honestly thought that their hearts cracked a bit from all the pain. Every day became a task. Moving, talking, breathing. Soon it seemed more like a routine rather than living. Yet Arthur feels sorry for Harry. He feels sorry that Harry lost a best friend. ‘But I lost one too,’ a little voice in my head whispered. As much as I didn’t want to involve myself in this, it was still true. The forced nature lingered in my mind, I saw those words with my eyes closed. It’s like I wasn’t even considered Ron’s best friend. Like I didn’t spend half my life with him, laughing and arguing in these big halls. Like we didn’t fight together just hoping that the other stays safe. It wasn’t history, maybe not even a mere memory. It was a fact, a statement that maybe some heard but ones didn’t believe in it, and others just forgot.

Here I am. Hermione Granger. Not a best friend. Probably not even a friend anymore.

And I am extremely lonely.

Along with a new week came wind, blowing colder each day. It brought nightmares to my garden in which sorrows grew like wildflowers. The letter made me feel uneasy, unlocking every doubt, bad thought and regret that I put away. Ron visited me in my dreams, only it wasn’t really him. The scenarios often occurred in different places, but he was always the same – black and white, without any color whatsoever. The only thing that proved his movement were the ever changing shadows and lights. He never talked, but I understood everything from his face. Ron did always communicate through his facial expressions, overtime I learned them. I learned them all. And in these dreams he acted like a ghost. He seemed unhappy, bored, even depressed sometimes. I tried helping him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him one time, touching his shoulder lightly.

He moved away with a face full of disgust.

“Are you hurting?” I whispered through my tears, my heart breaking into a million pieces.

He looked up at me, eyes full of life, but just a second after they were hidden behind a shadow.

He never answered me. Not once did he say a word.

But that wasn’t the only bad part – he was not the only one appearing in my dreams. Yet Fred was always drowning in colors, so alive and bright. His hair and freckles stood out. He usually came wearing a smile. They would exchange glances with Ron as he moved away, taking the black and white world with him. Watching him walk away Fred would always start talking.

“I’m sorry you had to endure that,” he would say.

“You don’t have to apologize,” I would reply, never knowing if he would give me an answer.

“Looking back I feel like I could’ve done something to make him a better person,” he was always calm, “instead I wasted my time doing stupid things and laughing life off.”

“I’m glad you did that, it made you closer to George,” I turned to look at him.

“George…” He looked down, his face washed over with a feeling I couldn’t recognize.

He took a couple breaths in.

“I wanted to thank you,” he looked up at me, “you helped George.”

“I doubt it made a difference.” I looked away to the horizon, blurring away like a warning that the dream would soon come to an end.

“Stop thinking bad about yourself, it made a big difference, not only for George but for Molly, Ginny, gosh, even Charlie started talking to someone other than a dragon.”

“Maybe it did then, but as soon as the disaster fell down, I broke down with it.”

“Hey,” he nudged me with his shoulder to look at him, “you’re an honest person, stop lying to yourself that everything is fine. You had the right to mourn and break down just as the others. This wasn’t just a person, Hermione, it was six years of your life. You need to bury that, you need to get it out of your system. You lost six years, start rebuilding them.”

“I have no one to rebuild it with,” tears were streaming down my face.

“And you don’t need someone, it’s your life, your years. Stop giving everyone the chance to write your story, you hold the quill.”

His words made me remember my own thoughts. I was the one commenting Harry’s actions and him being unable to let go. I was stuck in the same boat. I could easily reach the land and leave it all behind, but I was the one stopping myself from it. Thoughts of Ron were screwed in my head so secure, and I didn’t have the tools to unscrew them. I didn’t even look for the tools, I only told myself that it’s pointless.

The horizon was almost at our feet, everything disappearing into silver mist.

“Thank you,” I whispered and turned to him.

Fred was also watching the surroundings disappear.

“Will I ever talk to you again?” I asked.

He thought for a moment.

“I’m not sure. Because of us you have been having sleepless nights, I feel bad for you.”

“I would trade all my sleep just to see you again. Both of you.”

He looked at me.

“I’ll stop by then,” he smiled softly.

As the ground disappeared beneath my feet a question popped up.

“Am I imagining? Is there something wrong with me?” It sounded so cliché.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. Maybe your conscience is begging you to hear the truth that you know by heart. Your own mind wants you to listen to it.”

“I hate the thought of both of you being not real,” I said quietly.

“We’re always real in your head and heart. Just the way you remember us. If your words come out of our mouths it doesn’t mean we’re imagination.”

I closed my eyes, ready for the flight to reality where I will wake up in my bed. Right before waking up Fred’s voice rang out as an echo.

“Write to George, your honesty always helps.”

And I opened my eyes.

It was dark in the room. Probably the middle of the night. I was drenched in sweat as my hairs stuck to my forehead. My heart was beating fast as I tried to slow it down. It wasn’t the first night I hadn’t slept. It became like a habit, a circle that I couldn’t get out of.

I couldn’t sleep anymore. My mind seemed too tired to read, but I couldn’t just sit and do nothing. So I did the least logical thing – I went out for a walk.

God knows what hour it was, I didn’t care anymore. It was cold but refreshing at the same time. I walked around the grounds with no clear destination. I looked ahead not seeing anything. My mind was clouded with voices I couldn’t make out. After strolling around I found a rock to sit on. Wrapping myself up in the cloaks I looked around. It was dark, calm, quiet. You could hear the leaves swaying. The breeze softly caressed my face with a cold touch. It all felt so frozen in time I started to doubt if the sun would rise again. I looked up at the sky – it was full of stars. So beautiful yet so distant. Unmoving, always hanging up there by the same thread it was tied on years ago. Same sky, same place. Still you don’t get bored of them, you never think that they become ugly. While my eyes were swimming among the sea of endless dots I caught something. Clear ‘R’ and ‘F’ were seen made of stars. I smiled to myself. Maybe it wasn’t my imagination, maybe it was them visiting me in my dreams.

My feet started to get cold so I went back inside.

The lack of sleep caught on to me very quickly. The very same day I was almost snoring away in class. Yet I managed to keep my eyes open until the very end. But there weren’t any chances of getting a few hours of sleep – since I’m head girl I had to patrol the halls, looking for any trouble. Still I pushed through with all my strength and walked around for far longer than I thought. When dinnertime rolled around I didn’t even go to the great hall. I had no appetite. I went to the library instead - so original of me. But I had a plan, I wanted to exhaust my eyes to the point of disconnecting as soon as my head hit the pillow. And reading in bad lighting does make your eyes sore.

I didn’t count the minutes or hours, but after sometime a chair squeaked on the other side of the table. I was so invested in running through letters I didn’t even hear footsteps. When I raised my eyes I got more surprised.

“Uh, hello,” said Malfoy.

Am I dreaming again? Because the Malfoy I know would never strike up a conversation with anyone but his friends. Especially someone like me.

“Hello?” I answered uncertain.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. He was looking down at his hands, I was looking at him, trying to figure out his intentions.

“I wanted to apologize, I ran off like a child last time, it was stupid of me.” He seemed questioned by his own words.

I looked around, trying to see if someone was following up with this, because if they were, they wouldn’t believe anything just as I can’t believe it.

“Well,” I swallowed, “it’s your decision. If you don’t want my help – I won’t bother you.”

He nodded.

“I need to study over my free time, I need to catch up, it’s just that…” he seemed embarrassed.

“I don’t care,” I said simply and went back to my book.

He looked up at me, his mouth parted but no sound coming out.

“Well, uh…” he cleared his throat, “I… uh…”

I paid no attention to him until his question popped up.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked.

I looked at him startled.

"Fine," my mind couldn't make out many words, like a limit was counting down for the day.

I went back to reading my book.

"You sure?" He tilted his head to the side.

"What's your problem?" I closed the book almost shouting, stopping myself midway.

His eyebrows shot up from my reaction.

I closed my eyes trying to calm down. It's like a tiger was living inside me and he wanted to break free. The only thing is that I didn't know that tiger, I never saw him before - these feelings and reactions were new to me and I cursed myself for them.

"It's just that," Malfoy continued, "your under eyes literally match the blue rug."

I looked down under my feet. He was right, the blueish purple rug stood out next to my skin tone. It wouldn't be hard to notice that on my face.

"I just had a rough night," I answered ultimately.

“Night or nights?” He seemed to be playing a game.

I inhaled and exhaled loudly, closing my eyes.

"Oh right, couldn't sleep from the daydreams of Weasley." He sneered.

"Well, it's hard when your dreams become nightmares." I said.

He looked at me again.

"What do you mean?" He asked after a pause.

"What?" I raised my eyes at him. Yes, the same ones that matched the rug now.

"What did you mean by that?" He repeated slowly.

"By what?" My throat dried up.

"Don't act stupid," he was losing his temper.

I leaned back.

"So you don't know anything?" I asked, possibly understanding where the plot hole is.

"Know what?" He shot back.

I looked down at my hands. I hadn't considered the situation where Malfoy wouldn't know the events that took place over the summer. I'm not even sure that I should tell him. What if he starts badmouthing the Weasleys?

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked coldly.

I was fiddling with my hands.

"Ron passed away," I said, swallowing a weep, "during the summer."

Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could tell Malfoy stiffened up. So it's true, it was news to him. He had to digest this information, even though I thought rumors spread fast, well, truth spreads even faster.

We sat for some time with the background of talking students on the other side of the library. I always chose this corner because it was the quietest place here. I didn't know Malfoy's reasons for the same pick.

It seemed finally I made him speechless. I could only guess the things running through his mind.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered in a quiet voice.

It was weird hearing him like this, it made a contrast against his cold sharp tone. This was almost a melody, like he was trying to caress my soul with it. And weirdly it kind of worked.

"I had no idea." He added in the same voice.

I wanted to close my eyes and fall asleep to that sound, forgetting all the things in my head. Just to run away from those thoughts, just for a bit.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said fiddling with my hands. “There is no other way, it is just the way it is.”

Chapter Text

Days were passing like minutes. Interactions with Malfoy were like to be expected with a touch of weird. Our tutoring hours went by monotonically, only slight mood changes brought up some interesting conversations I never thought I’d had with him. Malfoy was a good learner, I mean, he was patient and quiet when I spoke. He never had questions though… Maybe I just gave too much information. But the impossible did start to happen. Some theory stayed in his head (I made sure to check his memory of the last tutoring-session via simple test), his notes were neat and full. We scheduled the next session to be partly practical. Since theory is going quite well I thought we could mix it up a bit. I talked with professor McGonagall about where this lesson should take place.

“Yes, miss Granger?” She asked after I came to her table at the end of class.

“I wanted to ask a question, professor.”

“Well, go on then,” she looked me in the eyes.

“I need a space where I could teach Malfoy some practical tasks,” why did that sound so bad in my mind?

“Practical tasks?” McGonagall questioned.

Gosh, I knew it sounded strange.

“Yes, well, the theory is going really well, we’re making a lot of progress. I thought it would be okay if I changed the learning style for a few times, also it would be great to see what practical potential Malfoy has, and improve it.”

McGonagall thought for a while.

“Are you sure this won’t be a burden to you?” She asked unsure.

“Of course not,” I answered, “besides, teaching theory all the time can stress both of us.”

She thought for a moment.

“Well, I suggest the room of requirement.” She concluded. “If it is to be occupied, you have my permission to use my classroom after lessons.”

“Thank you so much, professor.”

Wasn’t hard. And I told her the truth. Learning new theory myself and teaching it at the same time wore me out. I was feeling drained by the end of the days. Weirdly enough I always waited for the tutoring-sessions. It was something new in this routine of mine. Something of color in my grey world.

I was sleeping a bit better. By better I mean a few minutes longer each night. Even though the stress followed me all day, at night my heart was finally able to find some peace. The rhythmic beatings in my ears helped me fall asleep. I was still dreaming them. I was either talking to Fred or sitting in silence with him. I rarely glanced in Ron’s direction. Yet when I did I could see some grey eyes very far back in the smoke of grey.

Psychology never let me down - until now. I just couldn’t find a logical explanation to why was I thinking about him so much. No, not Ron. Malfoy… I often thought of his bests. His voice soothed my head from any pain. It brought calmness and sleepiness. I could only imagine what a miracle it would be to fall asleep to his voice. I would love for him to narrate my dreams. Carry me on the ship of adventure with a spark of magic in the air. Only to be plummeted into the clouds, as soft as his vocals. I started to learn him. I could tell what his mood was according to the tone he spoke in. I saw he was always tense, and I don’t know why but I wished to take that strain away. It’s normal for a human being to be tense, but this reflected his inner pain clearly. He had nothing to hide. He had nowhere to hide. So he put on a show, a presentation everyday so that people around wouldn’t look behind the screen. Or so I thought. These were only guesses.

I was woken up from these daydreams by a sudden noise. I never thought that Hogwarts had sirens. After listening more carefully I figured out that that was just professors McGonagall’s voice with the Amplifying charm.

“Students, evacuate the castle at this instance! Head boy and girl, go to the dungeons, left Viaduct Tower, towards the potions classroom. Help students out of there. Prefects, take care of other parts of the castle.”

Right after her voice went silent the people in class got up and ran out. I grabbed my wand and followed them to the nearest staircase. A thick fog was creeping up in the halls. Some students screamed, others whispered, even shouted. I wanted to know what was happening but my duty was the first priority.

Soon I separated from all the frightened kids, fighting and pushing among themselves to reach the doors. I went over to the potions classroom. The mist started to appear dense. Either my eyes were playing tricks or it had a pinkish tone to it. There was also a smell that was hard to specify. By taking a few breaths the subtle hint of champagne lingered before being overpowered by the forest after rain. But the smells disappeared a moment after.

“Lumos” wasn’t helping very much, even “Lumos maxima” extended my vision only by inches. But grabbing the walls along the way I made my way to the potions classroom. You really couldn’t see anything. Yet I heard many voices shouting.

“McGonagall here!” I heard at the very back of the corridor, at least I thought that’s where it was.

“Head boy near the back wall!”

“Flitwick, going inside the classroom.”

More voices merged from different sides. Occasionally a person went by, helping a student get out of this maze of nothingness. I managed to find some students and helped them out.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help,” I said to the frightened slytherin girl. “Give me your hand, I’ll lead you out.”

Clutching the little hand in my palm I carefully went back up, away from the source of the unknown fog. I kept the girl close to me, with the help of my wand trying to see in front of my toes. Soon I could sense more figures and a prefect ran up to me to take the frightened girl outside.

I went back.

We worked like that for some time. Professors, who had the knowledge that could help this situation, tried to clear the smoke away. Others searched the dungeons for other people who didn’t get out. When I brought the fifth student to the hall where prefects were Neville took his hand.

“You’re doing great, Hermione!” He said, hugging the child.

“Are you a prefect?” I asked, stopping for some fresher air.

“No, I volunteered, there will never be too much help,” he smiled shyly.

I smiled back.

“Thanks,” I said as he nodded his head and took the student away.

I was about to go back when I noticed someone.

Somewhere further into the pool of mist I noticed grey eyes in a strict face. Only that face was contorted by questions. Something awoke in the depths of those eyes that I couldn’t read now. Those eyes looked over the shadow of my smile, still depicted on my face.

I never thought of drowning as a good thing. But god knows, in that second I wanted nothing more than to drown in that moment. Drown not in the pinkish fog, but in the grey. I wished that that grey would wash over me, coating my skin in warmth and acceptance. I wished that the stress would leave my head forever. Never thought I’d say this, but if living in grey was the price to fulfillment, I’d pay it…

“Hermione, could you help?” A voice woke me up from my hypnosis.

The head boy was standing at the top of the stairs, on his way to head back down.

“Yes, let’s go.” I said.

I turned to meet the grey once more before hiding in the fog.

It took a while to get rid of the fog, but the professors found a way. Soon the dungeons were clear, you could see normally. I tried to identify the substance by smell while it was there, but with no luck. The different scents were like a riddle which dots couldn’t connect. The professors stayed in the classroom, figuring out what happened. Meanwhile I went out with the head boy and helped everyone outside. We warmed up those who were cold, gave water. After walking around I sat down on the castles stairs. The students were scattered all over the yard from all sides of school. Hagrid helped some of them too. I just needed to rest my legs for a bit. Being athletic wasn’t a trait I had, so climbing so many stairs multiple times up and down had me tired. I need to get into better shape.

“You okay?” The head boy sat down next to me.

“Yeah, just taking a breath,” I looked at him, trying to remember his name.

I have seen him before, I was sure of that, I just couldn’t remember when, or where, or why…

The weird thing is that he looked back with the same intensity as me. But he couldn’t be thinking the same, well, he clearly knew who I was.

“Could you remind me your name again?” I asked carefully, “Not to be rude, it’s just that my mind seemed to go blank.” I smiled apologetically.

He smiled.

“Anthony Goldstein,” he held out his hand.

I smiled and shook it.

“You were in Dumbledore’s army, weren’t you?” I asked with my memory coming back.

“That’s right.”

Anthony Goldstein, half-blood, Jewish, ravenclaw, prefect, friendly, good-natured, courageous and determined. I remember him from Dumbledore’s army. He was always eager to learn how to defend himself against Umbridge. Always eager to help others too.

“How are you holding up? Haven’t seen ya in a while.” He said, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m fine. Still reading and learning like back then,” I smiled to him, “and you?”

He was frozen with his mouth opened slightly. The corners of his lips played into a soft smile. His eyes seemed to be glued to my face. If I had felt something for this guy I might think we’re having a moment. But it wasn’t like that at all, at least for me. He seemed like he saw something euphoric. It was weird.

I cleared my throat and turned my eyes away.

“Oh, right, I, uh,” he turned his gaze away too, slightly blushing. “I’m great. Better than ever.”

“Good.” I answered.

For the next minutes we sat in silence. From the corner of my eye I caught him occasionally looking at me. Those quick looks were followed up with furrowed brows and head shaking.

Soon an echo of steps came from inside the castle. We jumped up on our feet to meet the professors.

McGonagall walked up front like the true headmaster that she is. Her every move breathed of good manners and elegance. She stopped just outside the door with the others behind her.

She touched her wand end to her throat and her voice was once again heard in every corner of Hogwarts, inside and out.

“Thank you for your patience,” you could tell she was worried about something, “you can go back inside, there’s no danger. I ask for the prefects to follow us for a discussion,” she lowered her wand and looked at me and Anthony, “you too.”

We looked at each other before following in their footsteps back to the castle.

“Well, we know the main thing that happened although not all details are clear,” McGonagall started talking when everyone was assembled in an empty classroom. “A student was trying to modify Amortentia in potions class all on her own. We don’t know what her intentions for the potions were yet. With no clear instructions she ‘followed her gut’ and changed the recipe. An explosion followed that started the spreading fog. No harm or pain was endured in contact with it. Still, the messed up potion had an effect, though ‘modified’.”

“What were the effects?” A prefect asked somewhere on the side of the classroom.

McGonagall sighed.

“The effect still stands until we figure out how to erase it. For now we know that the fog worked as an Amortentia potion, with its effects to people who inhaled it. The only thing is that it only worked for males.”

Everyone was silent, all eyes darting from different points of the room.

“What does that mean exactly, Minerva?” Someone asked.

“It means that only boys who got a breath of that smoke will feel the effects of Amortentia. And it seems to be almost all of them.” She stopped for a moment before continuing, “And the effects will stay until we figure out a way to stop it.”

The class was drowning in thick silence. Almost as thick as the fog earlier.

By the evening the whole school was buzzling. It was mandatory to spread awareness of what happened. I got back to the common room later in the day. Now alongside my lessons I had to help in any way I could. That included bringing up theories, solutions, suggestions. Everything that kept your mind working like a machine.

I couldn’t help but notice strange changes in the halls. A lot of boys were following my every movement, some older ones even eyeing me. A few even packed up the courage to say or just whisper something.

“Looking good, Hermione.”

“Gosh… look at ‘er.”

Though some facial expressions showed more than words could.

And that behavior seemed very strange. I never experienced any attention close to this. I just refused to believe that with the love potion’s effect in full swing so many would pay even the slightest attention to me. I do think that they’re just pranking me, but a feeling of uncertainty stirs.

The common room was packed with people, well, mostly girls.

“Hermione, would you come sit with us?” Ginny called from the side of the room.

She was sitting around with her friends, probably gossiping about the events.

I went over to them.

“How are you all?” I asked politely.

I never had a strong connection to Ginny’s friends. Though who am I kidding, I don’t have a strong connection to anybody.

“We’re good, just discussing things about today,” one girl with beautiful blond hair answered.

“Get this,” Ginny said to me, “I’m basically drowning in compliments and stares. Everywhere I go, everywhere I look.” She shook her head. “Who could’ve thought that this whole mess would ever happen?”

“No one saw that coming, although it’s kind of exiting,” her other friend commented giggling.

“You’re smart, not like us,” Ginny addressed me, “Do you know how it happened and why the effects are here to stay? I mean we are surrounded by best professors, surely they should know something.”

“Well, I’m not sure, right now we can only speculate.” I answered thinking, “as to why the effects are still there, well since we don’t know what ingredients were used and what connections they made. It takes a long time for experts to analyze potions, we are trying our best but it’s not that easy.”

“Are you already bored?” One of her friends asked Ginny. “I’m feeling as happy as ever. I never get this attention.”

They all giggled away.

I noticed I wasn’t needed in the conversations anymore so I went up to my room.

While putting my stuff down an idea came to me. Anthony. That weird look and everything. He was questioning his own forced honesty with his true feelings since he didn’t know what happened then. I can only wonder how hard it is to contain something that wants to get out.

But for now I needed to shake those thoughts away. I can’t even remember the number of times I made a promise to Fred that I will write to George. Even though I was tired, I couldn’t leave him alone.

“Dear George,

I hope you’re doing okay. Please forgive my straight forwardness in this letter, some things have clouded my mind preventing me from thinking straight. Life here moves slowly and fast at the same time. You wouldn’t like it, days filled with learning, writing. You never liked it, neither did Fred. Although some students are making up pranks. Even with this mask of stone that I have to wear as the head girl I laugh inside every time I see those idiots. My mind always jumps straight to you, both of you.

Fred usually visits me in my dreams. It seems he’s happy that he can communicate with someone still. If he doesn’t come to you at night – don’t worry. I’m sure he doesn’t want to make you sad. I don’t want to make you sad with this letter either, but I believe that you don’t want his name to become a prayer people fear to speak. Prayers are meant to be heard, doesn’t matter by who. All that I can say is that he’s very proud of you. He’s proud of you for moving on and living for the both of you.

And I’m proud of you too. I can only imagine how hard it is to carry the dreams of two people. But he was always your other half, nothing will change that. When the holidays role around and I can come home, I would like you to take me to the shop. I’m sure you’ve been working on new stuff and I am positive it will be perfect.

I’m not sure how to get this out without sounding basic. You know you can always write to me. I understand things are not very cozy at home, let the letters be a runaway. Write to Fred, I’m sure one way or another he will read it. I’m sure that there are a million things you want to say to him. Just know that every time you do speak to him – he hears you, every word.

He’s happy, George. He’s happy for you.”

The feather in my hand quivered. A slow and silent tear rolled down my face.

“I miss him too,” I thought to myself.

I left the parchment to dry. Walking over to the other side of the room more tears fell down. I lifted my hand to wipe them away when I looked in the mirror. Gosh, I look awful. Weird how those stares followed me in the hallways, I can hardly look at myself for a few seconds.

I froze. Something is off. The puzzle pieces in my mind pulled together like magnets.

The next moment I was running out, completely not caring how I looked.

I walked fast through the halls. There were almost no students in sight.

I rounded the corner with the speed of a drifting race car driver, wiping my eyes to see a clear view. And I ran into him.

Technically speaking ‘ran into him’ is a too dramatic expression. I didn’t hit him with the full force of a four-wheel drive. I just suddenly stopped in my tracks when a light distracted me. Fun fact, it wasn’t a light, it was his hair.

Malfoy stopped and looked at me suspiciously.

“Are you crying?” He asked with his expression saying ‘unbelievable’.

I wanted to shot back and protest as I was passing him but I remembered the earlier streams must’ve shined on my face. So I just made a weird sound and tried to continue my journey when he caught my arm.

“What happened?” He asked, no, he demanded.

I was way too deep into the adrenalin rush to notice his tone so I just mummed.

“Not now,” and basically ran away.

If I have looked closer, I would’ve seen the different shadows dancing in his eyes.

I knocked once when McGonagall’s voice invited me in.

“Good evening, professor,” I said walking in.

“Is everything alright, miss Granger?” McGonagall asked a bit worried.

“Yes, I just, I’m pretty sure I figured something out about the effects of the potion. Although I have to say it won’t help us get rid of it.” I said disappointed.

“All information is good, go on.” She cheered me on.

“Well, normally Amortentia causes infatuation and obsession from the one who drank it. In other words, the person under the effect of the potion would only hold an obsession for the person who administered it.” I took a pause to wait for a reaction.

“Yes, carry on,” McGonagall was focused on me.

“That means that all the boys should be obsessed with the girl who made the potion, right, professor?”

“Yes?..” She didn’t quite understand where this is going.

“Yet today I witnessed what looked like attraction from other boys. Not only me, actually, I heard other girls talking about it too.” I might have blushed a bit.

“You discovered a modification,” McGonagall stated more to herself than to me.

“Yes, professor, I believe so.”

“So what’s the theory?” She looked back up at me.

“My theory for a possible modification is that the potion doesn’t create infatuation, but rather brings it out. Not on that specific person, but just to anyone you fancy. I believe that now all of the boys are faced with their feelings for the girls they like more intensely. And, giving to the natural being of men, they don’t know how to deal with it.”

The words spilled out my mouth like a well-rehearsed poem.

McGonagall was thinking hard, maybe even leaving the world behind for a bit.

“If this modification alongside the ‘only males get it’ part is all,” she spoke calmly, “then we have nothing to be worried about. The only hurtful thing that could happen is a heart breaking.” She smiled softly.

I smiled back, proud of the discovery I made.

“Good job, miss Granger, five points.” She said in a satisfied tone.

“Thank you, professor, I won’t bother you any longer.”

“Goodnight, you deserve it,” McGonagall said.

I left her office and walked back to my room, thinking of the emotional roller coaster this evening took.

The next days were… well, let’s just say interesting. The constant whispers followed everywhere I went. They weren’t all about me. But boys sometimes love sharing their feelings with their friends in hurtful comments. Who said that bullying represented love? It only stands as a weakness and fear of your own feelings, like you’re too weak to admit it and do something about it. I’m not talking about everyone. This one boy tried to do something.

“Your name is Hermione, right?” I heard a voice from behind me one morning.

I looked back and noticed a short boy with brown hair. He couldn’t have been older than first-year. Maybe second, but only maybe. He seemed extremely shy.

“Yes, I’m Hermione, and you?” I asked politely, still lost.

“Bastian,” he batted his eyelashes.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bastian.”

We stood there for a moment. He clearly wanted to say something more.

“Would you,” he started playing with his hands, looking down at the ground, “do you want to sit together in breakfast? I can hold your hand after.” Pink overtook his face.

I was shocked. Straight to the point. What do I do now?

“Actually, I think I’m going to skip breakfast today, but thank you for the offer.” I added for good manners.

He nodded his head and ran away all embarrassed.

What is happening to the world? Will it start spinning in a different direction?

“Surrounded by admirers,” a voice from behind said unexpectedly.

It made me jump and clutch my hand to my chest.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Anthony looked apologetic.

“It’s fine,” I said, catching my breath. “And he’s not an admirer, just…”

I couldn’t find the correct word to explain myself.

“Consequence?” Anthony tried to help.

“No, don’t say that about someone,” I got upset at this comment.

“Fine, fine,” he said lifting his hands up. “Anyway, fancy a walk?”

I looked at him dumbfounded.

“What?” I asked.

“A walk? You know, the thing where you stand up and move your feet to change location?” He smiled.

“Oh, I, uh, sure,” I gave up on my head this morning.

I followed him out of the castle. The halls were buzzing, of course.

But as soon as we went outside fresh air filled my lungs and my head got a bit lighter. We walked down a path on the grounds. It was always beautiful outside. The colder breeze blew my curls away from my face from time to time. The slow rambling seemed to stop the world for a minute.

“Do you usually get approached by someone?” Anthony brought back my hearing.

I turned to look at him.

“Well that sounds a bit rude,” I smiled.

“I didn’t mean to,” he started to smile too, “I mean, after what happened.”

“No,” I didn’t need to think long for an answer. “I mostly hear whispers and get stared at. I’m not even sure why that boy talked to me.”

“I’m sure that the potion just played a cruel joke on him.” He caught my confused look. “I mean, imagine it – you are at a magical school for the first time, you’re among the youngest students. The fear of getting lost in confusing corridors isn’t the only scary thing. You’re afraid to get bullied, or that you won’t find any friends, or that you will forget homework.” He started gesturing with his hands, “well, you get the point. And now this power you have no control over barges in you and puts your feelings on display pretty much. First crushes, first times thinking a girl looks beautiful, first blushes.”

I started thinking about his words.

“I guess you’re right…” I agreed.

I never really thought on how the youngest ones here are feeling.

“But why do you ask me that?” I asked carefully.

“I want to know what it’s like on the other side,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, right,” only now I realized that he was also affected by the smoke.

I turned to look at him. Anthony was exploring the view of Hogwarts. Nothing abnormal in his stance. No shivers of excitement, no tense muscles.

“And how are you handling it?” I asked.

He looked back at me. His brows furrowed from thinking. After a moment he looked away and, taking a breath in, he started talking.

“It took me by surprise, I won’t lie. When we sat down you… Well some of your features seemed highlighted. Like never before seen. I mean, yes, I find you attractive, especially since we came back this year.” He took a little pause to clear his throat, “but I don’t see you as a crush, no offence.” He looked at me as if waiting for acceptance.

“Anthony, I’m not one of those girls who get offended by these kinds of words,” I replied. “I understand you clearly, even though I believe your compliments are brought up by the potion and have nothing to do with me. I don’t need you, nor anyone else to like me.”

He smiled a little.

“I’m glad we are able to talk about it so calmly.” I could hear the calmness in his voice. “I guess with you it was only the start effect of the Amortentia, I mean I didn’t know what had happened. After I walked the school a bit and, you know, got different feelings brought up for the girls I saw, I thought that this would be easy. Nothing that I can’t control. But then I saw her…” His voice got quiet. He let out a shaky breath, shaking his head with a smile.

“You saw who?” I wanted the rest of the story, even though it seemed rude.

Now my interest has sparked up when I came to the realization that not only girls are a part of this. I didn’t think about the guys. Maybe I knew that I couldn’t talk to any one of them about this, I mean, I don’t have many friends to begin with. And about minus three of them are boys. But now a new thought train appeared in my mind. How did the boys feel? No, what did they feel? How did they feel what they feel? There were times in my life when I had some feelings for someone, but I was always able to contain them. I wonder what it was like when they were just bursting out of your seams and you had to make it look normal.

“My… crush,” Anthony nervously brushed a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he laughed, “I wish to keep her identity a secret, at least for now.”

“Its fine, I understand.” I smiled.

“Yeah… when I saw her, it was like the whole world crashed down. My heart wanted to jump out of my chest and run to her. I wanted to hug her and keep her safe, never let go. I wanted to go up to her and confess my every thought about her. I wanted her to know of my existence, to prove myself that I am better than others. Even now I get so jealous and overprotective when a guy even looks at her. When a guy talks to her, oof…” he smiled and shook his head again, “I find my palms in fists immediately. My heartrate goes up, I start lacking air. I just want to go and punch him. It might sound inhumane, but that potion brings those feelings out so much. I think about her every day, every night. I dream about her in my sleep, and I daydream about her when I don’t. There’s a wish that she would just put a nametag on me saying that I was hers. When she talks I stare at her. I notice the shade of lip-gloss she’s wearing. I notice if she put mascara on. I notice her cheeks get pink, and that’s when I scout the room to find the person that caused that reaction of hers. I notice the softness of her hands when she holds on to me or hits me from laughter. I notice her change of moods and try to match it so she won’t feel left out. I admire her from the distance when she’s with her girlfriends. I just notice everything and it makes me like her even more.”

The whole time he spoke he looked ahead, seeing only the girl of his dreams.

“Does she pursue the same feelings for you?” I asked.

Anthony shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know, after all those reactions I get from her existing I’m still too afraid to tell her what I feel. That only makes the suffering worse when she laughs or hugs with other guys.”

“I can only imagine what you’re feeling…”

We walked in silence for a bit. I remembered when I tried to like Ron but he put me down for Lavender. Even though he wasn’t mine in any way, I still felt incredible pain when she was the one he chose to be with.

“Oh, they are really something this year.” Anthony cut my string of thought.

Confused I looked around. He was looking at the Quidditch pitch. You were only able to see fast moving silver and green dots.

“The slytherin team has a great structure this year.” Anthony commented.

This was the field I knew nothing in. It was hard for me to hold a conversation about Quidditch.

“Do you play?” I asked.

“Yes, quite sad that it’s my last year.”

“Don’t you plan on taking on a career involving Quidditch?”

“No, as much as I would like that, I have other plans,” he turned towards me.

“Don’t you feel pressured to seek higher future just because you’re in ravenclaw?”

He thought for a moment.

“I was brought up under pressure. My father’s favorite words are ‘stones under pressure become diamonds’. Yet I am still stuck, waiting for the moment I will become the diamond that he needs.”

“Well, I believe that you’re intelligence isn’t the only area you can shine in. The sorting hat put you in ravenclaw because this quality was the strongest in you. It doesn’t mean you don’t have any more.”

We started walking back.

“Maybe you’re right. I just don’t have enough energy to fight every minor obstacle in my way right now. My mind is clouded with feelings I can’t let control my life.”

We said our goodbyes and went on with the day.

While sitting in classes I couldn’t help but think that maybe this will be the start of a new friendship. Even if Anthony was just a friend I would speak to rarely, it would be nice to have someone like that. From our interactions I could tell that he was an honest person, always kind and simple. Of course, maybe it’s too early to think about these things. Maybe we won’t talk for the rest of the year. But my gut feeling said that it will be easier with a friend on the side, and I believe that Anthony was a good friend to have.

These thought brought back the days when I enrolled in Hogwarts. Short little Hermione with bushy hair and large front teeth. The fear of not having friends or anyone to talk to. It’s like reliving that all over again. Finding friends, making new connections. That constant worry that no one will talk to the nerdy girl, that still remains today.

That evening we had a tutoring session. I was walking to the library, watching the leaves on trees shiver in the wind. It wasn’t crowded when I got there. Only a few students here and there.

Malfoy was already sitting at our regular spot. I could sense that he was in a good mood. His face was relaxed, the corners of his lips rose up from time to time. He seemed approachable. It’s no secret that he was liked by many. If the potion effects were reversed I’m sure that more than half of the school girls would follow him around. Oh, right, the potion… Is he so happy because he got a girl he wanted? Does he even do relationships? Or is he a fuckboy who only needs a girl to warm up his bed for the night?

Wait, why am I even questioning that?

The thing I wanted to say, is that right now he looked calm and attractive in a way girls would come up and talk with him. I was even amused by the naturally soft expressions on his face from reading a book.

“Good evening,” I said when I stopped at our table.

He raised his eyes at me. That caught me by surprise. They weren’t the cold grey metal, piercing you through. They were soft, like a smoke slowly creeping in. His lips had slightly more color. This brought some kind of strain to my heart. Was he kissing someone? Did they snog? What if they…

Uh, I should really stop thinking about these things.

But the fact stood clear, connecting all the dots. Malfoy with the effects of the potion grabbed the first girl he saw at least somewhat attractive and made out with her, that maybe even led to further events. I mean I’m not one to control his life. He was nothing but a mere student to me. Then why did my heart sank down from these theories?

“Evening,” he said in a low tone.

That voice could make my knees bend if I wasn’t so tense.

“I, uh,” I cleared my throat, “we will have the tutoring in a different location today, remember?” I asked.

“Well then, lead the way.”

He stood up so close to me I could smell him. Without wanting to get into an uncomfortable situation I started walking out, he followed me. Even though there weren’t many students, I still saw some girls look our way. They would first look at Malfoy, walking relaxed with his hands in his pockets. Some girls bit their lip, some started whispering to their friends. Then their eyes would fill up with disgust upon landing on me. I was aware of how weird the situation was. Hermione Granger, walking with Draco Malfoy. The biggest enemies known from muggle-borns and purebloods. The hottest boy from school with the biggest nerd in history. And he was walking behind me like I was in the lead.

Leaving the uncomfortable stares behind we went out into the corridor. It was quiet, our steps were echoing through the castle. I needed to find something to talk about to fill the silence.

“Why don’t you play Quidditch anymore?” I asked, remembering our walk with Anthony.

He seemed surprised that I asked something, but he quickly regained him composure and shrugged his shoulders.

“There’s too much on my mind right now to think about strategies and stuff like that.”

“Actually, you could be doing yourself a favor.” We rounded the corner and went to the entry of the room of requirement. “Psychologically speaking I mean,” I added when he seemed confused by my fact.

We went up to the wall and in my mind I asked for a spacious room to train charms in. The doors appeared and we went inside. It was almost the same when we practiced with Dumbledore’s army. I went to put my stuff down.

“Your head is like a machine – always running and working, even in your sleep.” I continued, “the least you can do is give it a break from all the stuff that puts psychological stress on your mind. Think about something good or something that you enjoy.”

He was looking into my eyes like trying to read my mind.

“I don’t believe your passion for Quidditch only came from thirst of beating gryffindor. You liked it, it gave you a chance to breathe. So – do that again. Anyways, it’s not like you have to win always. Do it for yourself.”

I put my hands on my hips, waiting for an answer. Standing in front of me with his hands in his pockets he was still staring at me.

“Have I said something wrong?” I got concerned this time around.

“Did you study psychology?” He asked amused and surprised at the same time.

I started fidgeting with my hands and walking around.

“Well, not really. I mean, I spent my free time on it.” I said not meeting his eyes.

I started to move some pillows around, but after long silence I looked up at him. His eyebrows were raised high like he couldn’t comprehend this information.

“You know, the only head working like a machine is yours. You should try flying, clearing your head for new theory,” he stated, copying my words and acting like a professional.

He really was in a good mood.

“Oh, no. I’m not good with brooms,” I protested, throwing more pillows around.

He looked at me surprised again.

“I thought there was nothing you couldn’t do,” he said.

“I never said that,” I looked up at him.

He nodded his head.

“I thought it came with the ‘know-it-all’ package,’ he looked at me, a small smile playing in the corners of his lips.

Draco Malfoy smiling at me? What’s happening?

But whatever was happening – it was contaminable.

“Oh really?” I asked in a fun tone, “may I know what else is included in this package? Muggle-born, emotionally unstable, nerd?” I asked smiling.

He chuckled. God that was angelic…

“No, just a bunch of fancy words I don’t know how to pronounce,” he looked up at me.

It was the first time I saw warmth in his eyes. I thought he wasn’t capable of that.

“Well, uhm,” I got lost in the moment I didn’t thought possible.

My head just pushed the ‘turn off’ button for the night.

“Any spells you remember?” I said, moving the last pillows aside.

“Wingardium leviosa,” he said almost as a joke.

“Le-vi-O-sa,” I said out of habit before shutting my mouth.

I looked up at him and he smiled, shaking his head. I smiled too, with a pit of small butterflies warming up my stomach.

“Get out your wand, we’ll practice simple spells for now. I want you to remember the basics. Next time we will go on.”

We spent some time practicing the simplest things. It might seem funny, casting lumos and wingardium leviosa. But I needed to see his form and look for weak spots.

One time while I was examining his casting I wanted to give advice. I walked up to him and hugged his fingers around his wand.

“Press harder here, it will give you more support,” I said silently, showing him the better holding technique.

His hands were warm and soft. He was quiet and I could feel his eyes and breath on me. No, I could smell it.

“Are you drunk?” I asked strictly.

He opened his mouth just to close it again. I stepped back.

“Malfoy, answer me,” I said.

“A bit,’ he confessed.

“Wha… why didn’t you tell me? Why were you drinking in the first place?” How didn’t I notice faster? “The lesson is over, get back to your dorm and sober up,” I headed to my stuff.

“Wait!” He kind of shouted.

“What?” I turned around sharply.

“We can continue,” he tried to reason with me.

I looked at him like he was stupid.

“Malfoy, you’re drunk, how do you expect me to carry on with the lesson?”

“The same way as before you knew.”

I stood there, looking at him.

“We have been here for some time and I didn’t make a single mistake, I didn’t get distracted.” He said.

I was thinking hard.

“Please?” I heard the other words I never expected to hear from him.

I looked up at him. He was standing in the middle of the room, hands by his side, a wand in one of them. He had this pleading look in his face.

“Fine.” I succumbed.

We carried on with the lesson. Although I was cautious of which mistakes might be from the drinking I still corrected him. He had good form, he pronounced the spells well.

That was the entire evening. We spent a few hours there. When we were packing up I heard his quiet voice.

“Thank you,” and he walked out before I could even look at him.

While in my bed I thought of this… lesson with him. It seemed that alcohol erased all his pureblood views. He seemed just nicer in general. I believe that he will regret showing me this side of him. Anyway, if he never brings it up – I won’t too.

The last things on my mind before drifting off were interesting. The whole accident and how it will affect the rest of the school year. The letter I sent out hoping for a response. A new friend that seems like a good person. Standing next to Malfoy and breathing in the gentle forest wind after rain.

Chapter Text

“Fred,” I asked while we were sitting on a hill and watching rain pour down in the far corner of the horizon, “are you real or am I imagining you?” I turned to him as he looked at me too.

My face must’ve portrayed pain since he was silent for a while.

“I am as real as you believe in it.”

A sigh escaped my lips as the air inside my lungs got stuck.

“I feel like I’m going crazy…” I whispered.

Time was flying by. It was almost the middle of autumn. The leaves almost orange and brown. The potion was still in action. I found a few ‘love letters’ in various places. They somehow always found a magical way to get to me. Some wrote cheesy pick-up lines, others carried secret silent confessions. I never took them literally, none. In the halls I tried to walk with my head down. It was embarrassing meeting those gazes filled with affection. I would never know if any of it was real.

Lessons with Malfoy went by, one more interesting than the other. He wasn’t as emotional as last time, yet I could catch some glances my way. I’m not sure why, but I was always able to recognize the grey smoke he sent my way.

One evening we didn’t felt like studying. I decided to change the locations we met in. At least some variety to keep the monotony away. This time we met up in the Astronomy tower. I was looking at the horizon, which was drowning in the night. No clouds in sight, only stars that looked like punctured holes in a cardboard box. I stole some glances over my shoulder at Malfoy. He was sitting on some steps, reading the paragraph I assigned to him. I noticed that he was distracted. His eyes slid over the same line a few times still not seeing what was written. I couldn’t blame him, my mind has been wondering too.

“Leave it,” I said.

He lifted his head with furrowed eyebrows that conveyed a question.

“Don’t pressure yourself to read it now, leave it for another time. You can go, my mind really isn’t in the right place to focus on spells and recipes.”

He looked at me for a couple of moments before standing up and walking away.

With a sigh I turned back to the horizon. Many thoughts tormented my head, like an echo of a scream finally getting back to me. These were the moments I wished that people had an ‘off’ switch. But I was smart enough to know that the only ‘off’ switch was losing your consciousness.

Still, he kept coming back like a ghost from my past. His image was deleting itself from my brain. It was hard to admit that.

He himself was dissolving away like sugar in tea. Melting away like snow that watered the ground beneath. He watered my childhood with friendship and confidence. Soon all of that would be a distant memory. So distant it wouldn’t even matter.

I didn’t want to talk about him. I didn’t have to really, no one brought it up. I was drifting away from Ginny. My mind was a boat taking me away to a different shore. Where to? I had no clue. But even though I didn’t want to talk about him, I thought of him a lot. It was like a fever. Lingering on my lungs before disappearing into thin air just to reappear again after some time.

“You think too much,” a voice from behind made me jump.

I clutched my heart, turning to face whoever it was. Malfoy was leaning on a wall, book in hand. He tried to play it cool with his relaxed stance but those tricks didn’t fool me. His eyes were narrow and scanning me all over, looking for signs. I haven’t figured out what kinds of signs yet.

“Thanks for the conclusion, couldn’t think of that one myself,” I answered.

“So, what are you thinking about?” He said casually as he started stepping towards me.

“What?” His unexpected question caught me off guard.

“I mean, we’re here now, might as well talk about it,” he kept coming closer with a mysterious look in his eyes. The more I looked into them, the more I felt like being sucked in. It scared me. The unknown horizons of his soul. I wasn’t sure if it was a blooming forest or a dead field.

I was leaning on the railing but it felt like the end of the world.

“I never said I wanted to talk about anything,” I said after a pause that was way too long.

He chuckled.

“You have no one to talk to, I’m afraid your head will explode from all the stuff there.”

“And since when do you care about my thoughts fitting inside my head?” I asked confused. “Besides, I do have people to talk to. Like Ginny and… And…”

I took a deep breath in.

He’s right. I do have no one.

I looked over at him, at that grin that appeared on his face.

“Come on, spill.”

“I… I don’t know, it might not make any sense.” I started stuttering, not even sure why I agreed to talk to him.

"Muggles, you have many things that are out of logic's boundaries.” He said in a bored voice. He kept on coming closer and closer. “God for example. You pray for someone who may not even exist, yet still you don't keep your words to yourself. And for what?"

"Well, for most people praying gives motivation to go on." I tried to find the answer to his ridiculous example that even I didn’t believe in.

"But what's the point? You don't know if you'll be heard." He kept pushing.

"Well not everyone needs to be heard directly to believe."

We stood in silence, only this time he was almost pressing against me, looking down at me. One little push and I’d be falling like a bird with broken wings. His eyes were gazing at mine as if trying to find answers in them. But I was the one who found an answer in his.

"If you'll pray, I'll listen." I said quietly.

Silence followed. I could tell that he was thinking about something.

"I think you've listened quite enough," he said quietly after some time.

It felt so intimate, so private. I could feel his wish for something other than rude commenting. He wanted more. I could see it in his eyes. Even though they were cold, that frost hid concern and pain. He was locked away in his head like a prisoner. No daylight, no moonlight, just four walls.

"I'm open to listen some more," I answered in the same quiet tone.

He looked at me, acknowledging me not as an enemy, rival or a muggle. Just as a person who knows.

“It doesn’t matter, no one would hear me, even if I prayed.” For the first time I saw pain and suffering in his eyes.

He took a step back, looking into the distance.

“Trust me, I know all about it,” I said.

I felt tired. Tired of carrying this burden of mine and everyone passing by without even asking if they could help. Malfoy reached out a hand of help. He reeked of freedom, of someone able to be there.

Yet he looked back at me all startled.

“You? The one who has an entire family of redheads by her sides?” He spitted out as if I had said something offensive.

“You know,” I said straightening up and walking by him to the stairs, “it doesn’t need to be a prayer to not be heard.” His eyes were following me. “I’ve been screaming for the past months but no one hears.”

As I was passing him he grabbed my arm and made me look at him.

“Well, try unmuting yourself, maybe that will bring some success,” his face inches away from mine.

After that he let me go but didn’t move away. My feet started working after a couple of minutes as I walked away.

It was hard to fall asleep after that. My mind kept racing with theories of why Malfoy was so chatty. None of them made sense. Nothing made sense anymore. My chest was fluttering with waves of anxiety. My sixth sense kicked in, trying to tell me something. I didn’t like this feeling, it never brought anything good. Disaster was just around the corner, I swore I could’ve smelled it.

I was tossing and turning. Too hot then too cold. Eyes wide open.

I was afraid of what tomorrow might bring.

Little did I know, I wouldn’t need to wait until tomorrow.

I was finally asleep after a painfully long insomnia episode when I jumped up in my bed. Someone was knocking on my door quickly.

I got up confused and opened the door.

“I’m so sorry for bothering you, miss Granger,” professor McGonagall was standing outside, her face tense.

“Wha… what happened?” My heart was starting to beat faster.

“Molly Weasley has been sent to the hospital.” She paused to bear the heaviness of those words. “Arthur Weasley asked for you to go to the Burrow with Ginny.”

I stared at her for a minute.

“One second and I’ll be ready.”

I’ve never packed a bag so fast in my life. The more minutes passed, the more anxious I felt. I was trying to keep my breathing steady. My hands were shaking out of control. Some tears found their way down. I pulled on the first jeans and sweater I found. With my bag in hand I went out into the common room. McGonagall was comforting a crying Ginny. Once she saw me we both froze. I opened my arms, not knowing what to expect. But Ginny ran to me and hugged me using all her strength. She was shaking and hyperventilating. My sweater was already drowning in her tears.

“Calm down, everything will be fine,” I clicked into my ‘big sister’ persona. I gently caressed her hair, “let’s go.”

All of my own feelings switched off. They got put away in the bottom drawer, alongside all the others.

We followed professor McGonagall to her office. We both held Ginny up. She was trembling and her legs did a poor job of holding her up. The whole silence of the castle was filled with her cries. It was hard to hear them. Filled with fear and agony she was preparing to lose another loved one. She was mourning the good times she spent with her family because she believed none of that would be back. That small quiet voice in her head told her that this would be it. Again. And no matter how small or how quiet the voice was, she heard it like it was on full volume. It was the only thing playing in her head.

We passed a few ghosts. Some were on a nightly ‘walk’, while others followed to check the source of those cries.

They bent their heads down as we passed, fearing for the worst too. The Grey lady gently caressed her hair as an attempt to calm her down. I looked back at her and thanked her.

I didn’t even check the time. It was pitch black outside. Stars gone. Someone closed the lid, no air was passing in. And I was beginning to wonder why it was so hard to breathe all of a sudden.

As soon as we got to her office we travelled by the Floo Network. A second or two and strong hands grabbed us both. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I felt the warmth. We were at the Burrow.

I pulled back and noticed George and Charlie. Ginny was crying into George’s arms, they were both sitting on the floor huddled up. Charlie gave me a sad look.

“How are you?” His voice was weak.

“I’ve been better,” there was no good way of answering his question. “Are the others coming?”

“Dad’s with mum,” he took a small pause, “Bill and Fleur will be arriving tomorrow. Harry too. Percy is out of country, but will visit as soon as he can.”

I nodded.

“Let’s get Ginny to her room,” I said, picking up her things.

Charlie helped her off the ground as she clung to him.

“It’ll be fine,” he whispered as he guided her slowly upstairs.

George followed with red swollen eyes. I put her stuff down in her room. She was crying on the bed with George and Charlie on both sides.

That scene made me tear up. Ginny had her support. Two pairs of strong arms and shoulders just waiting to hold her or to be cried on. They were there for each other.

“I’ll leave you alone,” I whispered so quietly I doubt that anyone heard me and snuck out.

Downstairs I cleaned. First the kitchen, then the living room. Then the kitchen again. I had to do something in order to keep myself intact.

I tried asking myself who in the hell would want such a happy family to hurt? It’s like they were followed by a curse, binding them to forever pain. It felt unfair.

I felt like bursting out of my seams. I gripped the countertop with both hands, trying to breathe. One more rip and everything would explode. I breathed in deep, with what felt like a rock stuck in my airway. I tried to stay calm.

“You alright?” I heard a voice from behind and turn my head.

Charlie was standing near the stairs, eyes red, face wet, voice cracking.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I made up an answer.

My body relaxed a bit.

“Is everything okay up there?” I asked, just to take the attention away from me.

“Ginny is falling asleep in George’s embrace.”

Charlie’s voice sounded tired as he sat down at the table I wiped off about three times.

“She wore herself out, she needs to rest.”

“Yeah,” he nodded slightly.

“Wouldn’t you mind me asking what happened?” I carefully asked.

“We’re not sure,” he answered, “she was crying, probably remembered of them. Then she started coughing, her breathing got out of control,” he talked like he was in a trance seeing everything unfold again. “She couldn’t seem to stop and calm down. Her body started trembling, hands reaching out to something.”

A single tear rolled down his face.

“We got her to the hospital, they didn’t let us go further. In the waiting room dad said to come back and get you two, he stayed behind.”

I flipped the knowledge in my mind.

“It could be a Psychogenic Non-Epileptic Seizure, or PNES,” I said out loud.

Charlie raised his eyes at me.

“That sounds pretty serious…” his eyes resembled a scared child. Even though he was a grown man.

“Well, it isn’t as bad as it sounds. It’s good you got medical treatment involved fast,” I started to explain. “It can happen as a trauma response. Most of the symptoms are the same as you described.”

“Will it have consequences?” He sounded very serious.

“It’s different for everyone. Most often it just messes with your brain. The person can start to isolate himself, develop depression, anxiety. Basically it targets a person’s mental health.”

We sat in silence after that. Charlie was busy swimming in his thoughts and I didn’t want to interrupt him.

“How do you know all of this?” He asked silently.

“I might be wrong, it’s just a guess,” but Charlie looked at me with serious eyes. He wanted none of that shyness shit.

“I read about it. Learned a bit about it too.” I said.

He nodded his head.

“You’re capable of a lot of things,” his tone seemed dead.

I wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or not.

“How do you do it?” His question followed up.

“Do what?” I was confused.

“Stay so calm and alright,” he looked at me like he wanted a secret recipe.

“Charlie, I don’t do anything,” I sat down beside him. “As a matter of fact, I’m just as broken as you are.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Well it doesn’t seem like you are not feeling okay, you know what I mean?”

It clicked in his mind.

“And how long do you plan on hiding everything?” He seemed concerned.

“As long as I need to.” If I was talking to any other person, I think my answer would be different. But something pushed me to be honest with him.

“You need to let it out, otherwise it will eat you alive,” he said in simple words.

“I have way more important things to take care of right now.”

“And who’s taking care of you?” He asked.

I swallowed.

“No one, I don’t need to be taking care of.”

“You spend too much time alone,” he concluded.

“You know, sometimes it seems my life has been running through my fingers like sand. Whenever I try to get a hold on it – it slips away.” The darkness of the night brought a calm sense into me.

“What do you do then?” He asked me.

I turned to him and noticed that this was a genuine question. He wasn’t asking hypothetically what to do. He was asking what to do when you literally fall apart.

“You pick the pieces back up and try to live in the shape you put yourself back in.”

The night was long. I couldn’t seem to fall asleep. George joined Ginny in a hug that led them to a dreamless sleep. Charlie dozed off on the couch. I made sure he was covered with a blanket. While I myself sat the rest of the night wondering what to do. Technically I didn’t want to fall asleep. But this time I wasn’t scared of meeting Fred and Ron in my dreams. I was afraid that Mrs. Weasley would join them too.

The stress was killing me. My mind started to race trying to think of the Weasleys future without Molly. They would break entirely. This blow would be the last one. They had to endure so much and it just keeps on going. My hands started to sweat. In that scenario I really couldn’t help much. It would break them mentally. And I can’t just get inside their heads and erase some stuff, as much as I wanted to. I could try to provide a shoulder to cry on, long talks and hugs. But that wouldn’t do much. I couldn’t go around to help each one of them individually. That would be too much for me. Harry would probably disappear again, while Ginny would cry herself to sleep. He was never the one to provide comfort. Yet, he never even tried.

I started to feel overwhelmed. Every event was like a bullet hitting a target. I was the target and I had so many shot wounds that bled out. But I couldn’t stop and heal myself. I had to run, to help, to do something just to get away from all those thoughts and feelings. I knew they were coming like a wave, ready to wash down the shore of my stable emotions. But no matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t seem to escape the piled up rubbish inside. It would catch up to me one day. But I couldn’t let that be today.

The silence of the night brought headaches. My pulse was wavering. I felt sick to my stomach, unable to keep it all together.

The next day Bill and Fleur arrived early on. I made breakfast for everyone. Ginny wasn’t willing to come downstairs. I thought Harry would go up and try to talk to her. But he just sat in the corner of the living room alone. Classic Harry. So Bill went up instead and helped her down the stairs. Her face was puffy, eyes red and stained with tears that were still glistening on her face.

While Fleur was there we cleaned the house up. Did the laundry, made sure the bedrooms were clean and fresh. Made some lunch. Bill tried to keep Ginny entertained. He talked to her the entire day, avoiding harsh topics. Charlie joined them from time to time. George too. Harry was slumping around like a ghost. He didn’t help, didn’t talk. Most of the day he disappeared out of our eyesight.

Around noon we got good news from Mr. Weasley. Molly would be alright and back home in a few days. Everyone rejoiced and it felt like a weight was lifted off of everyone’s shoulders. They all relaxed and calmed down. Only a shadow was dancing across Harrys face. I’m sure I’m the only one who noticed.

Bill and Fleur left an hour after that. They couldn’t stay longer today, but they promised to visit again soon.

I cooked up some dinner, after which everyone dispersed into the house. Ginny and Harry went to her room. Charlie was snoring in his, while George took care of the shop’s business.

I was left cleaning the kitchen. I felt exhausted and drained. All day I carried the family’s emotions as if on a silver tray. I talked to Ginny, made sure she was okay. Discussed some interesting topics with George and Charlie. Listened to Bill mumbling about goblins. Only Harry was out of reach. I couldn’t find him, still, I didn’t try as hard as I could.

I heard steps behind me.

“How’s Ginny?” I asked Harry.

“Fine. She fell asleep.”

“Good.”

Silence.

“And how are you?” I asked.

“Fine.”

Small talk wasn’t his thing. But I wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. Rage started building up. I was angry at him for acting like a ghost once again. For disappearing when he’s needed. For thinking only about himself.

“How’s cleaning?” He asked, clearly trying to fill up this emptiness.

“Great,” I answered sarcastically.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry asked.

"I'm tired," I turned to him, "Harry, I'm fucking tired of being an open bag that everyone can throw their problems in. I'm tired of jumping around and helping every single one while no one asks how was my day, how I'm feeling. I'm tired that you don't move a single fucking finger to help the people who treat you like family. I'm tired of you acting like this tore out a part of you, ruined you..."

"He was my best fr..." He started to speak over me.

"He was my best friend too, so what?" I screamed into his face.

He was standing with an expression of a child being scolded. I was panting, shouting left and right.

"He was my best friend just as much as he was yours. He was Molly's and Arthur's son. He was George's, Bill's, Percy's, Charlie's and Ginny's brother. He was Luna's, Neville's, Dean's and Seamus's friend. He was Lavender's crush. Does that make a difference to you? Do you feel entitled to mourn like he was your whole life? Wake the fuck up, Harry. Nothing in your life is solely about you, no matter how much you want it to be. Every theory leads to you, every path, every story, every gossip, every footprint. You are connected to so many people not only by family ties. And still you act like you're the only one in this world. Stop it. While you sit around we at least try to do something to turn the hands of the clock."

"I don't sit around," he raised his voice.

"Do you?" I asked, "do you have a job? Are your pursuing a career? Are you helping around the burrow? Are you taking care of a family? Are you studying? Are you doing anything else than sitting lost in your own head?"

He was silent while his eyes were throwing darts at the ground.

"It's time to do something. You can give zero shits about me, but there are people caring for you while you push them away over and over again. The Weasleys lost a family member, two of them, and now one more has health problems. The same family that would take you in any moment you needed. And you can't even scrape up a few hours of your free time to come over and talk? What about Ginny? If not for yourself, do it for her."

I stopped talking. My vocal chords felt strained.

"I'll give every piece of me to these people, I will run around just to try and make a difference. But even my running distances have limits."

I stood there, breathing heavily. Harry looked at me all pale and frightened.

My legs were giving out so I walked around him to sit down on the couch. I buried my face in my hands as I heard him leave. One tear rolled down, then the other. But I had to pull myself together. Today is not the day to break apart. I need to hold on for just a little more.

The next few days were agony. The Burrow seemed to fell under a silence spell. No one talked, no one laughed. Not near me at least. Or maybe they did but I just didn’t hear them. I noticed myself getting dozed off. Some episodes of time slipped out of my mind, or I would catch myself standing still like an idiot. We didn’t exchange glances with Harry. We didn’t even look at the direction of the other. Everything got quiet. Painfully quiet. My head hurt every minute. I felt weak and tired. Had no appetite. Didn’t even remember when I last slept.

Molly Weasley came back after four days. The Weasley siblings were all happy in tears, hugging each other. Mrs. Weasley looked more lively than the last time I saw her. Color had returned to her face. Only she lost some weight. In my mind I wrote down some foods that would be easier for her to eat, but would keep her vitamin levels high.

She hugged every one of her children. Then she invited Harry into her open arms as if they wouldn’t have done it without his help. I was standing to the side, letting the family get their moment. I didn’t want to interrupt anything private. But as everyone was walking towards the table to have lunch Mrs. Weasley turned around, scanning the room. When her eyes landed on me she said:

“There you are,” as a warm smile lit up and she walked to me before I could react.

I was drowned in her hug as she held me tight. Then she stepped back.

“It’s good to see you, dear. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“We’re very thankful for your help,” Mr. Weasley came along and hugged me also.

“No problem, I’m happy that I could help and I’m happy that you’re home feeling better,” I responded.

Molly caressed my hair and Arthur helped her to the table.

I served everyone some soup and Shepherds pie. The whole family devoured over family chats, long conversations and laughter in between. I sat still, smiling and keeping myself out of the talking.

“You haven’t eaten anything,” Arthur, who sat closest to me, remarked quietly.

“I’m not hungry, but would you like seconds?” I kindly offered.

Concern stayed in his face for a moment before he smiled and nodded his head. I refilled his plate and sat back down.

After lunch Bill and Fleur visited once more. They sat down with Molly and Arthur to have some tea and talk. The other siblings went out to play in the rain. The weather has been horrible the past few days. It reflected my mood perfectly.

As I cleaned the dishes I overheard short fragments of their conversation. I stiffened up when I understood they were talking about me but forced myself to move so they didn’t notice I was listening.

“…she looks like she’s sick.” Molly’s whisper was full of worry.

“Maybe something’s happening in school,” Bill tried to find a reason.

“I’m afraid she can’t get past the trauma that the war left,” Molly was genuinely concerned.

“No one can, especially with the events following it. I’ll talk to her later,” Fleur’s voice sounded the most stable.

“I don’t want her to overwork here, the stress must be so hard to handle for the poor girl.”

Molly always sounded so motherly. I promised myself to get a grip. I can’t let my own condition lead to a decline in her health.

In the evening I went up to Mrs. Weasley’s room. She was tucked in her bed. Arthur was downstairs taking care of some documents.

“I brought you your tea and some medicine,” I said softly, placing the cup on her bedside table.

“Thank you, dear. The one they gave me at St Mungo's never tasted as good as yours,” she smiled.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoy it,” I helped her pick up the cup.

She took a few sips and closed her eyes. Calmness washed over her.

“What would we do without you,” she looked at me.

“You don’t need to answer that because I will always be here when needed.”

“Don’t forget about yourself. If I could, I would feed you more that the great feast at Hogwarts. Just look at you! You’re so skinny it hurts to watch.” She cupped my face in her hand, “your cheekbones are hollow, dark under eyes. You need to rest and take care of yourself first.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I want to make sure I do everything I can for you now,” I responded.

It felt like a lump in my throat. She was so eager to get me back to health that she didn’t realize she was the one in danger.

“Don’t forget to drink your tea and medicine as needed,” I reminded her as I got up, “get some sleep.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before I closed the door.

Downstairs I ran into Fleur.

“Do you need any help?” She asked.

“No, thanks, I got it.” I responded automatically.

“Hermione,” she walked up in front of me, “You need to get some sleep. You’ve been working non-stop.”

Her voice was sweet and soft.

“I’ll get some sleep, but now I have to pack. We leave early tomorrow.”

The next morning our return to Hogwarts was planned. Ginny already packed her stuff, sleeping peacefully in Harry’s arms. My things were neatly placed near my bag. Not a lot of packing, but still.

“I can’t look at you like this. You’re killing yourself with all this work and stress.”

“I’m fine, Fleur,” I got ahead, “I really am. I’m sure as soon as I breathe Hogwarts in I’ll feel better.”

She looked at me not with worry or concern, but sadness.

“I know you carry a burden of your past. Those things don’t go away so fast.”

“Even if I do, I don’t let them weigh me down.”

“Maybe, but you don’t noticed that you’re stuck in quicksand up to you waist.”

I let out a breath.

“Hermione, this isn’t good. You need to make the load lighter somehow.” Her voice quietly hummed in the silence of night.

“I’m getting there,” I lied.

I had a talent of lying to people. Most of them didn’t question me. But Fleur either hunted down the lies, or she strongly followed her gut.

“What’s the point if you ‘get there’ in pieces?” She asked calmly.

“I’ll be okay, don’t worry,” I said.

I had no wish to talk in riddles anymore. The headaches were coming back, and I was sure that they wouldn’t go away so easily.

The next morning Fleur, Bill, Charlie and Harry woke up to see us off.

“I left the recipes in the kitchen, on top of the counter. They are the best for Mrs. Weasley right now and not difficult to make. Also, make sure she drinks her tea before bed and medicine as the doctor prescribed.”

I was handling out instructions to Charlie so he could take care of Molly.

“Great, thanks,” he said as he hugged me.

“Get back safe,” it was Bill’s time for a hug.

Fleur squeezed my hands tighter, as if on purpose. While Ginny hugged Harry our eyes met. But I turned away and positioned myself next to the fireplace. I didn’t want any goodbyes from him.

“Well, we’ll be on our way,” I said when Ginny joined me.

The flames ate me up as I watched four faces disappear in front of me. I walked up when I felt the ground underneath. Coughing, I opened my eyes. We were back at McGonagal’s office, she was standing near, probably waiting for our return. But as soon as I felt the gravity pulling me down, I felt the dam crack and break. Everything fell down like a pile of rocks down a hill. A rip. It all felt heavy and too much to carry on my tired shoulders.

Chapter Text

Feeling empty I dragged my feet down the hall. Yesterday I plopped into bed and left reality for a few hours. Well, not hours. I literally slept the entire day. Good thing that it was the weekend - no classes. I felt heavy, as if filled with rocks. Rocks of trauma, depression, anxiety and emotions. They were pulling me to gravities field. If I were in water I’d be lying on the bottom. My fingers would get all crinkly, gripping the sand like trying to pull on a cover during a cold night. No dreams this time.

When I woke up everything seemed to tip me off. The sun shined to bright. The pillow wasn’t cold enough. My shoes weren’t aligned. The book on the table had one wrinkled page. The flowers leaves were too green. The whole room was too dark. And that horrible headache kept hitting me with what felt like a hammer. If Cornish pixies would pull on my nerves I’m positive it would feel just like this. After getting out of bed that one strand of hair was out of place. The robes didn’t fit the way I wanted them to.

It was hard getting myself out. But classes were important, I already missed a whole week.

In the great hall a lot of students were speaking and laughing cheerfully. Some sat quietly while eating breakfast. Others looked around. Especially boys. When they saw their crushes they blushed and quickly turned away. I was way too deep in my nothingness and didn’t notice any of those looks. I sat down near the door. But I had no appetite. So after sitting there awkwardly I got up and went on.

“Hermione!” I heard someone shout.

Turning around I noticed Anthony coming my way.

“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while,” he stopped beside me. “You have charms class, don’t you?”

“Uh, yeah,” I was thrown back a bit from his high energy levels.

“Great, let me walk you there.” He suggested.

We started walking in small steps. Not being in a hurry felt great.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Anthony asked.

“Trick question, I slept the entire day,” I looked at him and squeezes the best smile I could offer now.

“Well, if I were to guess, I’d say you haven’t closed your eyes in days,” he kept looking at me.

“Maybe I’m a vampire now,” I said with zero tone in my voice.

Anthony furrowed his brows but didn’t say anything.

“Thanks,” I said when we reached the class.

“Don’t you want to visit a healer?” Anthony asked out of nowhere.

“What?” I was caught off guard.

“Hermione, you look sickly.”

“A healer won’t tell me something I don’t already know. Even if I was sick it would be the same babbling of rest, nutrients and vitamins.”

“But this is serious,” his tone made me look up.

His eyes were concerned. Yet I couldn’t say anything to calm them down. I had nothing in me.

“It’s just that my head is hurting,” I tried to grab on the fastest excuse I could come up with, “I will go to bed early today.”

“Don’t you have a lesson with Malfoy?” Anthony asked.

Fuck.

“Uh, well, I’ll figure something out,” I stammered.

“You know you can reschedule.”

It’s like he knew my entire timetable better than me.

“Yes.”

But my answer wasn’t enough for him since he stood there, waiting for something more convincing.

“I will take into account that I can reschedule the meeting.” I tried to say it this way.

“Hermione,” he took me by the shoulders, forcing me to look at him, “don’t let yourself go.”

After that he walked away. I could tell his mood was somewhat ruined, but I didn’t have the power to help.

The whole day my mind was in a blur. I sat in classes not listening. I wrote down notes without thinking what letters I shape with my quill. I walked the halls, only halfway realizing that I went the wrong way and turned around. I felt miserable. I couldn’t hold it back. Now it wasn’t a dam or a stich holding the last bits of bursting out. It was my bare hands. Tired and getting weak.

Yet the day passed fast, mostly because I was in a trance the whole time. The headache followed me anywhere I went. Like a personal reminder that everything was still inside, simmering on a low heat.

I heard someone talk as I rounded the corner. It was dark outside, only the candles lit up the halls. I walked up to what seemed a verbal fight.

“What’s happening here?” I put on my best official voice. Well, the best I could do right now.

Two boys stood in front of each other. One seemed to be on the brink of tears.

“Ah, a mudblood coming to the rescue,” the other one said.

His words shocked me. He couldn’t have been older than third year, yet had little respect.

“Please, watch what you say,” I said politely.

“So now you will teach me some tricks of you muggles?” He grinned.

“One more insulting word and you will face consequences.” My tone got harsh real quickly.

“Like what, getting my blood dirty?” He laughed.

I just stared at him with a resting bitch face. I had no intentions of talking to him sweetly, he wasn’t a baby, at least he didn’t think he was.

I put my hand on the other boys shoulder and started to lead him away when that pup opened his mouth again.

“I wish Voldemort had killed you before Harry defeated him.”

I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned around.

“Well, if we’re talking, then say everything that sits on your tongue about me. I really have nothing better to do than to listen to someone’s opinion about me.” I said as I crossed my arms and took my stance.

“You want to hear it? You're not brilliant — you're just loud. You drown us all in facts because you're terrified someone might notice you're still just a mudblood playing genius in a castle that was never meant for you. You don’t fight for others. You fight so you can feel important. So people won’t forget you. For all your brilliance, you'll still die with dirty blood in your veins. No spell can scrub that out. Face it. The only reason anyone keeps you around is because you're useful. The moment you break, you're just dead weight — and Potter will leave you behind like everyone else. Oh yeah, he already did that,” he hissed.

Each word of his left a cut on me. A paper cut isn’t dangerous until it becomes ten, twenty or more. I was bleeding freely, silently. It all stuck in my head and bounced of repeating every sentence. It stuck. It hit hard. I had to take a deep breath to keep my tears away and keep my composure.

“Eighty points from ravenclaw,” I stated. “And I thought your house was supposed to be smart.”

After that I turned away and walked the other frightened boy to his common room. Before turning the corner I could still see the puffed ravenclaw trying to process what he did. Maybe I pushed too hard, but he deserved it.

All the way my hands shook as I breathed deeply. I tried to calm down but nothing worked. After making sure the boy got inside safe I ran to my room. As soon as the doors closed my whole body started trembling. I tried to keep calm, rocking back and forth. I looked around for the book I needed and went out. I was running again. From my problems. I was running away from me. I didn’t want to give myself time to think about what I’ve heard. I needed to move, to forget, to not think. My feet carried me on my own. I tried to focus on the environment. Anything to keep myself occupied from the horrors waiting inside my head. The fourteenth candle from the stairway was almost burned out. Keep moving, keep moving. The seventh suit of armor on the left had his helmet on slightly off to the side. Keep walking. A spider was making a web in the top right corner, on the big window that came after twenty six small ones. Almost there. Someone was trying to carve something into the doors but got stopped midway. That’s it, I was inside. The library was fairly empty. I navigated through bookshelves, trying to avoid any contact whatsoever. I stopped when I saw the table. Malfoy was already sitting there, secretly looking around. I got myself together, at least I thought I did, and walked up.

I sat down on the opposite side of him as I felt his eyes on me. I didn’t lift mine. We sat in silence for a few minutes before he calmly spoke up.

“You were gone.”

It sounded like his voice hid disappointment. Surely he was disappointed that I was back.

“Yes.”

That was my only answer.

He nodded slowly.

“You’re late.” He stated.

“I am.” My tone was dead.

He furrowed his brows but kept quiet. I pushed the book to the other end of the table.

“What’s this?” He asked.

“Theory.”

“You’re kidding?” He must’ve thought I was pranking him or something.

I shook my head to the sides. All that time my eyes were glued to one dot on the rug.

“’Hogwarts: A History’? Is this funny to you?” He asked resentful.

“Never too late for the basics,” I said mechanically.

I was holding myself back because all those piled up feelings and emotions were rising inside me like vomit.

“I’m not reading that bullshit,” Malfoy said seriously.

But I ignored him, sitting so still that I felt my skin move up and down from my heartbeat, which was about to jump out of my chest.

“Are you okay?” I heard him say somewhere in the distance.

My chest started rising more and more. I sought out the hopes of grasping this truth, my hands clutching into fists and shaking like crazy. But the truth was painfully obvious. It was all too much.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered before dashing out like a rocket.

I ran through the halls as fast as I could, racing the tears that were now streaming down my face. My chest ached from the lack of air but I didn’t stop. It was pouring outside, but I didn’t notice until I ran half of the way to the Black Lake. I wasn’t going to stop now of course. I ran until I felt the rocks screeching underneath my shoes. Without warning my legs gave out and I collapsed onto the ground in a pitiful breakdown. It all came out at the same time. I screamed my vocal chords out. Cried so many tears I questioned if the grounds would flood. My body shook uncontrollably. I hugged my knees to my chest but that didn’t help. I grasped into my skin with the force of a supernatural. I was sure marks would remain. The rain felt itchy on my skin. The freezing air pierced my lungs.

Why the hell did I think that I would be alright. I would never be enough no matter how hard I tried. At the end of the day I would remain with the same nametag. I could never crawl out of this hole that I fell in. Not to mention I dug that hole myself. I was so worried about making myself presentable that I completely missed the fact that it wouldn’t change a thing. Ron would never want me. Harry would never listen. It would all stay the same. I tried so hard to help everyone around me. I went out of my comfort zones, sacrificed my time, sleep and energy. All of the long talks and heartfelt chats. All painful and scary honesty. All silence and respect. All guilt and hurt. All pretending and helping. All listening. All being there. I did that. I pushed through it all just to end up on the same road as before. It hurt to think of him. I was full with anxiety from the past months. Full of hidden feelings that are now coming out.

A sudden foreign feeling brought me back. Someone dropped a robe on me. Pebbles crunched beside me.

“You’re freezing,” a tone I never thought I’d hear. “Look at me.”

I slowly opened my eyes as much as I could and stared into that white face, which turned even paler. With a mixture of tears and raindrops I could barely make out sharps shapes but those eyes seemed as clear as day. Grey, smoky, mysterious. I stopped breathing. I can’t let him see me like this. I can’t ruin myself. Panic was deep in my veins, I didn’t know how to act. I became like a beast squirming in ropes of captivity. I tried to lift myself up from the ground but my hand slipped on the wet rocks. I was about to hit the ground when his hands caught me.

“Hey, hey!” His hands squeezed my shoulders so tight it started to sting. “Look at me.”

If I was able to listen more carefully, I might be able to figure out the tones of his voice. Right now it just sounded like words mashed up and put on a vocal cord.

“Look at me!” His raised voice made me listen and I obeyed.

With my eyes wide either from fear, or to be able to see, or both, I stared into the concerned face that tried to think of a plan.

“Listen to me. I will not make you go back if you don’t want to, okay?” He articulated every word like to a kindergartener. “We can stay here as long as you need to, but I’m staying too.”

I was trying to understand how deep the words went. Did he really meant that?

“Are you okay with that?” He pushed for a response.

After a few frozen minutes I slowly nodded my head.

A breath escaped his mouth as if he was holding it in. He slowly sat me down and let me go. He sat down beside me and stared. After taking out his wand he casted a warming charm on me. I felt a wave of warmth through my body. It’s like it melted my frozen blood that started pumping fast like never before. After all I was a working factory, all of us are. My breathing quickened, shaking intensified.

“What’s on your mind?” I’ve never heard Malfoy talking so softly. It took me by surprise.

I opened my mouth and then closed it. Then opened it again but nothing came out.

“And don’t give me that bullshit that you’re okay,” he added.

“It’s just,” I felt like I didn’t know how to use my voice, “there’s so much…”

“We have time,” he didn’t raise his voice, didn’t talk in a sharp tone.

He spoke them out slowly and softly, as if handling a fragile item.

“I’m not sure you’ll be interested in it,” words formed really slowly on my tongue.

“I already said that we have time,” he took my chin and turned my head to his, “I want to hear it. Your thoughts. It’s time for them to find a voice and be heard.”

There was something so pure in his eyes, inviting me to open up and just let it out. Being trapped in pride of hiding and silence I had a hard time finding a way out. Yet now he reach out his hand ready to guide me towards honesty. I had a hard time with honesty. She was never a friend to me. I couldn’t accept my mistakes, or that I was sometimes wrong. I never chose honesty because the only language people listen to was lies. Honesty was left behind like a thing so from last year. It never showed you the way out, it only dug a deeper hole for you to fall in. I was rarely honest with myself. The truth was sometimes hard to face so a mental block saved me multiple times.

But now Malfoy was trying to prove that honesty wasn’t a curse, but an escape. Why should I trust him? Why should I trust his words and mixed signals? A little voice in my head replied ‘because that’s his truth and honesty, he’s trying to teach you his ways like you’ve been teaching yours.’

That was enough to tip me over the edge and I plunged into the pool of freedom, shaking from its cold and scary waters. My tongue untied and let loose.

"I just... I feel so much right now. It's all piled up in towers I can't get pass. It has been piling up since the funeral. It was all locked away and slowly filling up until it started dripping through cracks. It all overflew out to my everyday functioning mechanism. I can't get rid of it. Every single bad thing is on display, one glowing brighter than the other." I swallowed. "I feel so fucking guilty. For everything. I told him it would turn out like this, but I should've talked to him more about it. I should've stopped him. Fuck what if I just sat down and explained everything maybe he wouldn’t have made such a dumb mistake. Maybe he would be alive. But at the same time I feel furious. Like why the hell did he go behind everyone's backs? Fine, I understand why he didn't tell me, we bickered all the time, I pissed him off, but what about his family. Why didn't he care to at least tell them what he planned to do? I feel angry because he didn't fucking listen. He just threw all my words away when I wanted to keep him safe. And not because I liked him them, but because saving him meant saving his family. They were all broken and he broke them even more. I'm angry because they didn't get their last goodbye, he would just come and go like an asshole. I'm angry that he didn't pay attention to his family. He acted like a ghost, wanting to leave but not being able to.”

I stopped to breathe, ease taking over me and making it easier to talk.

“After that he started appearing in my dreams. At first he would just be near me all sad and that made my guilt triple in size. Later he would become distant, moving further away each night until I barely saw him. Fred keeps me company those nights. He talks to me like a human being. We don’t need to waste time on me speaking my heart out because he knows everything. Why wouldn’t he, he came from the same brain corner that every thought has. You know, in the muggle word having imaginary friends means somethings wrong with you. But he’s the only one that makes me feel like I’m okay. It’s hard to carry all those thoughts because I’m here all alone. I have no friends. Literally. One of my ex-friend is dead. The other acts like he’s the most important person in this world. And every so often I find myself wondering why the hell were they even my friends in the first place. I was just the brains that they didn’t have. That’s it. And after the war both of them thought they were so grown up and mature that I wasn’t needed anymore. They acted like they knew better, yet still I was correct every single time.”

Malfoy was sitting, never interrupting, casting a warming charm every time he saw me shiver more. He listened intently, his eyes gave that away.

“Greed took upon me. Greed of being the hero. I wanted to help everyone. I listened and sat there with each and every one of them. I knew their mental and emotional reactions by heart. I knew which would need more attention. Ginny always turned off her thoughts and let everything out through tears. George closed up and needed encouragement. His positive thoughts were correct but he needed to hear them from others to believe it. Percy took it like a champ. Even though he can’t be there often I always see letters in his handwriting. Bill didn’t want to speak about it, he didn’t cry a lot too. Charlie is lonely. He just wants someone to talk to about anything. Arthur is always calm and collected, he’d rather open up quietly to the shadows late at night. Molly is very emotional and need to let everything out. She just needs someone who sits patiently and waits. I was gone because she was at St Mungo’s. Everyone feared for the worst, you could feel the tension in the air at the Burrow. Thank god she’s alright.”

I wiped away my tears.

“And I try so hard to force myself to live a normal life because that is all I want, but I can’t. I rarely see my parents, and I don’t want them to be scared for me. The Burrow is like an intense test to see in what condition you will come out. Here I feel like the center of gossip and bullying. Fuck I hate those loving stares everywhere I go because I don’t believe that none of that bullshit is true. I’m at the point where even third years bully me more than when I was in third year. And that kid was right. My knowledge is my only way to stand out. I’m not pretty, not funny, not flirty, I’m nothing like the dream girls of everyone. And my brilliance is getting boring by the second. That kid told me that I was useful only until I break. And I’ve come to understand that what he said is true. While my logic was solving life threatening puzzles I was one of the most important people. And as soon as we passed those levels I dropped back to the beginning. Unwanted. I try to use my knowledge to climb to the top, but what for? Why am I still doing that if when I get to the top nobody’s waiting for me? Nobody waited, they all moved along. Now I’m stuck in this mess of things that live in my head unable to let the outside me just exist. Now I’m broken, and alone. Guess brilliance really isn’t everything.”

The cold wind dried the tears on my cheeks, leaving trails of footprints under my red eyes.

“It was easy at first. I had other priorities. I was always a people pleaser, I will always be one. That’s a curse you can’t stop. You start doing everything for everyone else. You live your life for other people and suddenly you’re stuck like a fly in a spider web, unable to understand that you’ve been trapped. It all starts going around in a circle. But those circles are always around other people. You’re left with no circle, nowhere to hold onto. And all those doubts, thoughts, feelings are tightly packed in bags just sitting in your head. You always know that they’re there, but you don’t want to get close.”

I stopped to take a breath. The air felt incredibly fresh even though the temperature burned with ice. I closed my eyes.

“I don’t want to bring this baggage everywhere I go,” I whispered, one tear silently escaping. “I don’t want to be brave. And I don’t want to lie to myself that everything is fine. I’m tired of that.”

I opened my eyes and stretched out my legs. My body relaxed a bit. I traced the far mountains with my eyes.

“I never thought I’d fall into a pit of desperation. The slope seemed endless, running and running, and running. Running towards a better tomorrow which soon turned into another tomorrow. That wanted tomorrow never arrived. That dream place only stayed and will stay in ‘tomorrow’.”

Silence wavered. It seemed comfortable and honest. Like the freedom I wished for. Finally silence. No screaming thoughts in my head. No loud doubts. My mind is calm.

“What is it that you so desperately want?” Malfoy’s voice broke the silence. The words fell smoothly off his tongue, so aesthetically pleasing for the moment.

“I want to live like a normal human being.” I answered. “For the longest time I grew up to believe that Harry and Ron were my life and world, and I truly thought that it would always stay that way. And now that it came out to me so brutally – I’m lost. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to squeeze my life expectations back down from three people to one. It’s embarrassing but I really don’t know what to do, it’s like I’m relearning everything over again.”

For the first time during this confession I looked at him. His face was serious, but his eyes led me to the conclusion that we was actually worried. He listened to every single word I say. He listened and he heard it. He understood.

Seeing him like this I felt uncomfortable. For some reason I didn’t want him to be concerned or sad. It didn’t suit him.

“I just…” I kept talking, “I just don’t feel like myself anymore.”

“No wonder,” he said, looking down.

Feeling my confusion he added.

“You go around picking up the lost pieces of everyone else and use them to put yourself back together… You’re not yourself because you’re made up of many more people.”

He looked back up at me and our eyes met. His grey didn’t seem scary. Yes, it was endless, but now I wanted to roam in it trying to find something, anything.

“And how do I get myself back?” I asked him quietly, my voice breaking mid-sentence.

His fingers slightly caressed my face while wiping a tear away. His skin was cold, but it felt so recognizable. Like something I’ve been waiting for.

“You start over again. Learn to be vulnerable, sad, angry, not okay. Learn to be weak.” He answered.

“But what if I’m afraid?” We spoke in whispers, like two kids hiding from someone.

“You were afraid every time, and yet every time you made it perfectly.”

He himself was vulnerable. He was honest and bare.

“Keep fighting. You deserve all of this and nothing will change that. Don’t feel guilty about Weasley’s death, you’re not to blame. Don’t worry about not being able to be there for everyone, you have boundaries too, don’t cross them. You’re a human, not a robot.”

I looked at him but didn’t see a rival. I saw an equal. A human. A teenager. A survivor.

"Pathetic, isn't it?” I asked, looking at the rippling water. “How life can throw us mean jokes and we have to live with the consequences. We have to endure every small detail through our skin and soul. It's like bacteria or something, slowly working inside until it strikes and you are paralyzed with no options. Not only that you are pierced with pain and suffering, stress overtakes your bloodstream taking control of the rhythm of your heart. Slow then fast, then slow again. Sometimes it makes it stop beating to the point of fear that it won't work again. Anxiety takes over the lungs usually stopping them from working properly. Like holding them tightly in fists not letting them fill up and expand. You start hyperventilating. And it doesn't matter that you take in the double amount of breaths, the capacity of air inside never gets to the needed amount. Your head starts hurting, pressing on the worst points. Not to mention the shaking of your entire body, that doesn't go away fast. You can't control your limbs, you can't control yourself. Nothing. You can control nothing. It starts wearing you down. It weights you down making you plead for an end to this seizure. All that's left to do is clutch the hope of you someday being fine."

"I wish I could take it from you so you didn't have to live it..." He whispered.

It was a confession I didn't think possible. Yet it stirred something inside me. Not a mixture of feelings and thoughts on how to reply, no. The feeling that I accept these feelings.

"I wouldn't want you going through that either." I added quietly as our eyes met.

We both understood that something simmered inside, but we were both too scared to say it out loud. So we confided in whispers, in silent words on paper. That would never bring our secret out, not out loud.

“Thank you,” I let out with a breath, “I can’t imagine how awkward and uncomfortable this must’ve been. I should’ve talked less.”

“You’re doing it again,” he said.

“What?” I was confused.

“You’re not a robot, if you need to talk – talk. If you need to talk a lot – talk a lot. Maybe I’m not the person you wished would help you, but I see in your body language what an impact this had on you. Look at you, you’re relaxed, breathing, not shivering, not stiff. A weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, I see that.”

“Sorry,” I said out of habit.

“And one more thing – no apologizing.” He added standing up.

“Wha… Where are you going?” I asked.

He gently took me by my elbow and lifted my whole body off the ground. When I was standing on my feet he didn’t let go, stayed close and made sure I felt stable. His hand moved some of my curls out of my face.

“Let’s go inside, I don’t want you to get sick.”

He let me hang onto him, holding his hand over mine so I wouldn’t let go. This proximity sent shivers down my spine. I never imagined that you could handle someone so gently. But here he was, holding me up while barely touching my palm. His moves were calculated. He didn’t squeeze my hand, didn’t walk with his arm next to mine. Yet he slipped in a couple caresses with his thumb. We started slowly moving back to the castle. The grass was wet and slippery. When we’d encounter a puddle he would gently nudge me around it.

“Also, you need to sleep. I think I have a Dreamless Sleep Potion - that should help.”

I didn’t even realized how tired I was. All the stress kept me on edge, but now with it gone I had nothing left to keep me up.

“Why are you helping me? Why are you so nice all of a sudden?” I asked when we were near the castle.

We were soaked from head to toe. Water was dripping from my robes.

At first I thought he didn’t hear my question but soon I heard him mumble.

“I don’t know…”

That was when I understood that Malfoy didn’t really knew how to lie, but I’d let it slide this time. I was too tired to play detective.

Inside he casted a spell that dried our clothes and hair. Then he sat me down on a bench near the dungeons and ran to his room to get the potion. I’m pretty sure I didn’t needed it. My eyes were already tired and rolling. I had a hard time staying awake. It felt so nice to have dry clothes and to be inside where cold wind didn’t reach you.

I felt him gently shaking me to make sure I wasn’t sleeping and, carefully holding me, he led me to the gryffindor common room entrance. The walk was slow and quiet. It was easier for me to walk, but Malfoy didn’t take his palm off of mine. I didn’t let go too, something in that grip felt necessary. Like it was connecting me to a stream of calmness.

“Here,” he put the potion in my hand, “when you get to your room drink it all and go to sleep.”

We were standing outside my common room door.

“What about classes?” I asked.

He chuckled.

“Classic Granger,” he said more to himself, “I’ll let McGonagall know that you felt unwell during our lesson and decided to rest. I’m sure she will understand, especially if she saw you after being back from the Burrow.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, a bit resented.

“Just look at yourself,” he waved his hands, “You’ve lost so much weight that now you look like a skeleton. Your cheeks are hollow, dark circles painted underneath your eyes. I’m not saying it was much better before, it’s just that now it reached the point where a lot of people see that something is wrong with you.”

I stood there, unable to react properly.

“I never said I looked good,” I answered more to myself with disappointment.

“I didn’t mean that you look bad,” he brushed his hand across his face, “what I mean is that you look sick. Like you’re really sick with some sort of disease. “

I nodded. The awkwardness hung in the air as I slowly turned to make my way to the common room. I’m just going to let this moment slide. Who knows, maybe I won’t even remember it tomorrow.

“Malfoy,” I turned around one last time. I expected him to be gone or walking away, but he was standing there, waiting for me to go first. “Thank you.”

He nodded and didn’t say a thing. But I didn’t need to hear him say anything. His presents the entire night was enough for me.

Or maybe it wasn’t.

I stumbled back to my room. After closing the door I swiftly threw off my shoes and sat on the bed. I buried my face in my hands, asking myself what just happened. It was brief, eye-opening, soothing and unusual.

The top of my hand felt cold. But not cold because of the temperature. Cold because something touched that place before and let go. That sudden shift left cool handprints on my palm. Malfoy’s handprints where he held me so I wouldn’t fall.

This was new to me. The shivers and the missing of touch. I wanted to convince myself that it was due to long isolation from people and physical contact. My body reacts to it since it was so long ago. Yes. Let’s leave it at that…

I pulled of my robes. Actually, what I pulled off wasn’t mine. Then I remembered that Malfoy had draped something over my shoulders and back when he came to me.

Fuck.

That whole time out there he was sitting with no robes or jacket in the pouring rain. I’m so stupid, I should’ve realized sooner. I hung his robes neatly over my chair. I shall give it back once I can. I swept my hand over them and turned to walk away but something stopped me. I told myself I was going crazy, but that didn’t stop me. I took the robes and lifted them to my face before bringing my nose closer and taking in a deep breath. It smelled like the gentle forest wind after rain. So fresh and calm. I stopped myself midway the second sniff. What the actual fuck am I doing? I threw the robes back on the chair and sat on my bed, shocked of my own actions.

I took of my clothes, not even changing into pajamas. Spinning the bottle in my hands I thought that I’m not sure what’s in it. Malfoy could poison me just like that. But would he do that? The old Malfoy definitely would. The new one though? I’m not sure.

Still I uncorked it. Bringing the bottle to my lips I listened to my final doubts in my head before chugging the potion down. It had no distinct taste, or maybe I just didn’t feel it. Since I was already drowsy I laid down.

The potion took over my body slowly. While I floated away into deep sleep my now clear mind was wondering left and right. With my head empty there was too much space, it didn’t feel right. So Malfoy popped in. Uninvited. Gosh, I really had to be delusional to think about him. But something felt off. Maybe it was the way he dropped his bad boy act when he came to me. Could it be that he showed me the other side of his demeanor? But what granted me the pleasure of experiencing his worry? I was still just me. The same one like years ago. So, what changed now? What caused the break of Malfoy? Why did he came to help me and showed so much concern? I didn’t know he was capable of being worried yet keeping calm at the same time. Malfoy seemed like the person who didn’t need to feel any of those things. He always pretended not to notice or bully the shit out of you. Now his eyes begged me to be okay, and his hands made sure to hold just close enough to catch me if I lose my footing.

Something was off and I was going to figure it out. Right after I rested my eyes and let my body get the sleep it needed a long time ago.

Still Malfoy stayed in my mind, casually walking by while I swam in galaxies that resembled nothingness.

Still, he stayed.

Chapter Text

When I woke up the day was in full swing. The sun was inches from going down. My room felt like in a daze. The good and dreamy one which you can only read about. My body seemed rested and relaxed. My mind was calm, with the headache not pushing on the pin points of pain. I sat up. Haven't felt like this in a while. I knew I was still stressed and anxious, but that wasn't it. I felt alive. Like a human being. I had more energy than before and my breathing was rhythmical, steady.

Even though my mind was clearer other thoughts started gathering. I felt incredibly thankful that I wasn't alone yesterday. It was a heavy load to carry. Malfoy probably already chose to forget everything, he wouldn't carry my burden. Or maybe he's going around, making fun of my tears. But I doubted it. He changed, but I'm not fully sure how. One part of me wanted to thank him. I wasn't thinking yesterday, not even sure if my 'drunk' words meant anything to him. But now I wanted him to know that I was thankful. No, I didn't want it, I needed him to know it. This string pulled me to go to him and say that out loud. I knew I should rest more and give myself time but this weird gravitational thing hurried me forward. I got out of bed and threw on the simplest outfit ever. I didn't even have time to brush my hair, pulled it up into a messy bun on my way out.

The common room was empty. Students probably were enjoying the bearable autumn evenings with beautifully painted grounds from different color leafs. I was looking out the window, the sun slowly getting into position to disappear, when suddenly the portrait door opened and Ginny walked in. She was breathing heavily, like she just run upstairs.

"Oh, you're awake," she said noticing me, "I heard you weren't feeling well, how are you now?" She asked.

I wondered where did she hear that information from, but it didn't really matter.

"I'm better, thank you." It was the simplest answer now.

"Good to hear, you look better too," she put her book bag on the armchair and snatched a scarf from the coat rack.

"You're heading out?" I asked casually.

"Yeah, Gryffindor is having their Quidditch training today, the weather is perfect. We're going with the girls to watch them. Get this," she stopped ant turned to me all excited, "some guys from random houses follow us around all the time and we're pretty sure they will go there too," she started laughing. "Oh my, that's funny, I wonder how long the potion will last, this is becoming a funny game."

"Does Harry know?" I asked simply.

"Yes, he wasn't thrilled with the idea of many guys trying to shoot their shot but I calmed him down. There really isn't anything he should worry about."

I nodded more to myself.

"Will you join us?" She said hesitant, turning around at the door.

"I don't want to interrupt anything," I turned my gaze to the window, "it seems I missed so much in the past months."

"Well better catch up now, life and time don't wait around." She smiled and stepped out.

Ginny seemed fine too. She was happy and laughing.

The window opened up to the most beautiful view which you could mistake for a painting. A masterpiece made up from the most perfect details. The grounds covered in leaves that swirled with red, orange and yellow. The trees and mountains far away giving the horizon a black outline separating the sky from the colorful mess. Student walking, running, rolling around and having fun, like little dots. The sun, gifting the world a golden hour, set a dreamy like state. Stop right there, take a photograph. Now that’s something you will remember for a while. For the first time after the war I felt peace. Everything’s going back into its place. That gave me the motivation to keep going on with a smile. I ran off, all happy and smiling like an idiot.

I didn’t know where to find him, but it felt like a string was pulling me to the right direction. While walking the sunshine brought warm thoughts. My mind started to remember how nice it actually was to spend time with Malfoy. It came as a surprise. He rarely snapped at me, was patient and eager to learn. He was also… mysterious. In a way I couldn’t explain. But those feelings were exiting. I understood that I liked having him around. He was quiet, calm. He grew up, that was the only explanation I had.

After some time I rounded the corner and, noticing him with a professor, I ducked back. Thankfully I wasn’t spotted, that gave me the chance to stay and eavesdrop. I knew that I should walk away but now that string tugged at my chest harder and I just couldn’t help but smile and stay.

“…and I will talk to professor McGonagall about your extra lessons,” I held my breath at the words of the teacher.

This was a conversation meant for Malfoy, but if they were discussing my lectures to him that means that it involved me too.

“You have amazing progress and I’m certain that you can carry on yourself.”

Now my heartbeat slowed down. The corners of my lips fell.

What?

Did he ask for the lessons to be over? I’m not saying they were perfect but I didn’t think it was terrible.

Of course, the ‘old me’ would be happy and celebrating. That would mean no more late evenings with the slytherin bully. But the ‘now me’ felt… sad? I just acknowledged our lesson atmosphere and how it was great. I felt calm during those evenings. I felt in my element. No matter how dumb it sounds but I didn’t want them to be over. I needed that. Those were the only nights when time slowed down and let me breathe. I… I liked having Malfoy around. It’s like his aura touched my soul.

I turned around ready to walk away when suddenly I bumped into someone. Books went flying everywhere, I guess the other person was walking out of the library or something.

“I am so sorry,” I started apologizing and picking up the mess.

“It’s fine, happens to most of us.”

I lifted my head to the sound of that warm voice. A pair of brown eyes were watching me from underneath fallen curls.

“I… I’m really sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going,” I continued.

The guy just smiled and shook his head. He held out his hands and took the books back. Only now I’ve noticed a yellow and black scarf around his neck.

“Hufflepuff?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah,” he looked down at the scarf and back at me.

“Sorry, it seems I haven’t seen you around a lot,” I flipped the pages of my mind trying to remember him.

His face was somewhat familiar, like I’ve seen it a couple times but never paid much attention.

“It’s fine, really,” he was friendly, you could tell that from his tone and how much he smiled. Maybe a little bit too much. “I’m Hugo. Hugo Greaves,” he held out his hand.

“Hugo? Sounds familiar,” I shook his hand.

“I don’t like to announce it,” he smiled as he scratched his neck.

“Why not?”

“Because bullies are like leeches.”

He kept smiling, looking at me and actually seeing me.

“I can’t imagine why would bullies come after you,” I tried to think of a reason, but before I could he gave me one.

“You don’t need to be nice.”

“I’m not trying to,” I said and smiled apologetic.

“Oh,” he chuckled softly, “well, you know, ‘why you grieving? That’s your hue to go’,” he explained.

“That’s horrible,” I said after hearing him.

“I’ve gotten used to it,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, no one deserves to be bullied.”

He just stood there, studying me with his eyes.

“Could I walk you to, well, wherever you’re going?” He asked shyly.

“Well, I…” the reality crashed upon my shoulders. I remembered why I was here and what I heard just recently. Hugo took my attention away from that problem so easily than now my mood dropped a couple notches down. “I actually don’t have a set destination to go to.”

“Then maybe we could just go for a walk?” He said softly with his brown eyes piercing me.

“Uh,” I wasn’t in the mood to walk and talk, but a part of me felt I needed to compensate that accident I caused, “sure.”

“Great then, the weather is beautiful outside today,” his smile grew wider at my response.

“Don’t you want to put your books down?” I asked, maybe hoping that he would remember that he needed to study or something.

“It’s fine, they’re not heavy. So, shall we?” He pointed his head forward and I took a breath before stepping by his side.

He was right, the weather outside was perfect. The soft wind let my curls gently sway, blowing a few leafs underneath out feet. The sun was setting, leaving a trail of color in the sky which resembled watercolor.

This new meeting felt rushed. My mind was beginning to get messy and I couldn’t get my thoughts in place. Still it was surprising to meet someone who has this much positive energy.

“It’s actually so nice to finally meet you,” Hugo said after some silence.

“Why do you say ‘finally’?” I was curious.

“Well, I actually wanted to talk to you but couldn’t find the courage,” he blushed a bit.

“And why is that?” I felt dumb. I never had this many questions in my life.

“I don’t know, you seem funny and you’re smart, and cute,” the last word was quieter.

I smiled, that was a natural reaction. It has been a while since someone talked so sweetly to me.

“Thank you,” that was all I replied with.

We walked some more, enjoying the silence in-between. I could see the Quidditch pitch in the distance. Red and gold dots flew fast, turning into a blur line.

“By the way, from what year are you? I don’t want to seem rude or anything,” I asked.

“Hermione, we’re in the same year,” he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He smiled, his body was relaxed and he talked to me like an old friend.

He was comfortable with me around, maybe after ‘finally’ talking to me his fears went away. I didn’t understood why where they there in the first place.

“Wait, what?” I turned to him.

He laughed, throwing his head back a bit.

“Yeah, gryffindors and hufflepuffs didn’t really had a lot of classes together. Even if we did I probably blended in, I wasn’t particularly tall.”

“Still, that’s surprising.”

I noticed from the corner of my eye that his gaze lingered on me a lot of times.

“So, were you leaving the library?” I asked to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, got some new stuff. If only I could manage to force myself to start reading it.” He turned his head to me, “maybe you have some suggestions? I’m sure you know that place like the back of your hand.”

“I’m not good in suggesting books, I usually read the things that are needed, and if nothing is required then I read everything.”

“Classic,” he chuckled.

I did make a few notes in my head. He was very friendly, like really friendly. But at the same time I felt like he was trying too hard. Like hello? We’ve only met a couple minutes before and he already acts like we’ve been friends for a long time.

“Could we go back inside? It’s getting a bit cold,” I asked apologetically.

“Oh, here, I can give you my robes,” he started looking around for a place to put the books down.

“No, no need,” I hurriedly answered.

Truth is I wanted to go back inside and organize my thoughts. So we headed back to the castle. The last sunbeams were chasing each other to the hills where the sun left the horizon slowly. Students were still roaming around, laughing and talking. Even though it was still a warm evening I felt shivers running down my spine. Maybe I was underdressed. It didn’t seem like it.

Inside we ran into Anthony.

“Oh, Hermione, McGonagall asked me if I see you to pass the information that she’s waiting for you in her office.”

He looked at Hugo, then back at me with a questioning look.

“Thanks, I’ll head right there now,” I answered, trying to dissolve his questions about Hugo, though that was the least of my worries.

“Could I…” Hugo started the question as soon as Anthony walked away.

“No, it’s fine,” I interrupted him, “I can walk there on my own.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Hugo seemed confused after my way to fast answer. But I needed to get away from him.

“I’ll go, bye,” I said and walked away as soon as possible.

I practically ran up the stairs trying to think of what McGonagall would want to talk to me about. Maybe Malfoy already asked for the lessons to be over and she was the one to tell me. That idea made my heart ache a bit. I wasn’t sure of why my body gave this reaction. Either way something told me that it wasn’t to chat happily about something good happening.

I knocked on the door and heard a strict voice.

“Come in.”

I walked in and immediately understood the reason for this urgent meeting. There stood the ravenclaw boy who roasted me to my breaking point.

“Good thing you’re here, miss Granger, I wanted to discuss a matter with you that’s very important.”

The boy stared at his feet, his eyes were a bit too wide for something he should’ve expected.

I walked up to her table.

“I’m listening,” I took my stance.

McGonagall cleared her throat.

"This ravenclaw student had a complaint. He believes there has been a misunderstanding in an encounter you had not too long ago." She fixed her glasses, "I won't lie, I myself was in a bit of a shock after seeing the ravenclaw house points go down about a hundred..."

"Eighty," I interrupted her with confidence.

"Pardon?" She asked perplexed.

"It was eighty points that the student lost for his house." I explained.

The student stood quiet and still, seemed more of a statue from the side. I saw the horror in his face and quickly realized what happened. He believed that McGonagall would just bring back the points without asking me first about the situation. Too bad that plan didn't work out. Now McGonagall will find out his true actions and that that point deduction was necessary.

"Could you explain the situation from you point of view?" McGonagall asked me professionally.

"Not only can I explain the situation but give you a detailed list of how many points and for what reasons he lost." This was easy. "The situation was simple, I encountered him with another student late one evening having a verbal fight in a hall. Well it was mostly one sided, to the point I could call it bullying. The other student was crying. So I took the liberty to try and change the situation but with no luck. So I had to take action into my own hands. Speaking of, I took away five point for bullying, five points for making fun of someone publicly, fifteen points for having no respect to the schools administration or, in other words, the student council, ten points for talking back, ten points for talking about Voldemort and wishing for him to have made more victims, ten points for using insulting vocabulary, like the word "mudblood", ten points for non-humane behavior , ten points for bringing others down just for your entertainment and five points for not having respect for older students in general." I turned to the student, who now stood as white as a ghosts, "did I miss something?"

McGonagall glared at the student. She knew I would never lie.

“Is that true?” She asked him in shock.

You could see the wheels turning in his mind. He thought about every possible outcome, no wonder he was in ravenclaw. If he lied and said nothing like that happened, then the situation would be looked into. A lot of ways could be used to find out the truth, such as the truth serum or the pencieve. Since he was young he didn’t know how to alter his memories. If he came up with a different story she would know he was lying because my words were always true. And if he changed only a part of the truth she would still know he lied because by now he is taking way too long to come up with a solution.

So, there’s only one way to go.

He slowly nodded his head in agreement.

McGonagall stared at him in shock.

“Well, miss Granger,” she addressed me but her eyes were glued to the student, “I’m very sorry for the inconvenience, you can go now and thank you for the truth.”

I turned around and left that room happy that it all went by fast.

The night was a blur. Since I slept the day away I thought I’d stay up late but the moment my head hit the pillow my eyes closed as on command.

There we were again. Sitting on a hill overlooking beautiful fields that were shining in green.

“I hope you feel better,” Fred said.

“I’m not sure how I feel anymore. It changes so quickly I can’t seem to catch up,” I answered looking at him.

“I think you should trust your feelings more.”

“Why?”

“You always deny the things you feel, write them off as lies, but what if the truth is that you’re afraid that they’re true?” Fred always had his opinion and knew how to present it.

“Sorry, I still don’t understand.”

“Some things may come your way soon, just be opened to them and don’t block your head from you heart,” he looked at me with the expression that I couldn’t say no to.

“I’ll try,” I honestly didn’t know how to reply to him.

After a minute sitting in silence I noticed him looking at one spot, I turned around and noticed him.

Malfoy.

That name haunts me everywhere I go. So as the owner of it.

Malfoy stood still looking at us. After some time his lips started moving, putting words together. But no sound was heard. He clenched his fists, tried again. The veins on his neck popping up from the tension. Still nothing.

Before I could ask anything Fred started talking.

“He appears here often. Seems like he’s trying to say something but it can never be heard.”

“Why is he here?” I asked half whispering.

“Hermione, it’s your dreams. Your mind creates them.”

I was left with the question of why was he here. Why was he roaming my mind? What is he trying to tell me?

The next morning was slow. Dragging my feet I made it to the great hall. I plumped at the gryffindor table and poured myself some tea. I didn’t have an appetite. It was pointless to try and gather my thoughts. Now they were scattered all over the place. Even if I was on my hands and knees picking up the pieces I would still overlook something.

This time the autumn took its lead. The mornings were getting colder. I used the cup of the as a warming device even though that warmth traveled up my palms and stopped at my elbows. I stared into the tealeaves as if I was a seer and could read my future. And I wanted to so badly, I’m tired of guessing what’s to come next.

Suddenly a figure sat next to me. I turned my face and froze in place. Malfoy was sitting next to me. He seemed relaxed though his eyes never got a break from being cold.

I looked around confused, many curious eyes were on us.

“Ahem, last time I checked you were in Slytherin,” I said to him.

“And last time I checked you haven’t eaten in days,” he threw his excuse at me.

“And how is this,” I gestured at him with my hands, “related to my appetite?”

“Maybe if you have a dining buddy you will start taking care of yourself,” he replied without wavering.

I was so shocked I couldn’t seem to function.

“Aren’t we in a good mood?” I asked sarcastically. “I must say your brave enthusiasm is praiseworthy but you are an idiot,” I said and looked around as more students started looking, pointing at us and whispering.

“What, you can’t handle the attention?” He asked smirking.

I took a breath in.

“Can we go and talk outside?”

I stood up without waiting for his answer and led us out. While leaving I could feel eyes on me, like they burned everywhere they landed.

Once outside I turned to him sharply.

“What do you want?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who is supposed to ask that question since you wanted to talk,” he answered.

“I mean why did you do that? Isn’t Draco Malfoy supposed to be this cold, mysterious persona who doesn’t need any friends or company?” I asked quite rudely.

“Why are you so annoyed?” His mood begin to waver.

“I’m not,” I started defending myself.

“Yeah, right,” he said with sarcasm in his voice.

“Yes, I just genuinely want to know why are you playing these games. Why one moment you’re so closed off it would be impossible to emotionally reach you while the next second you play a friend. Why do you want to cancel our lessons.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, cancel our lessons? Nobody said nothing like that.” He seemed confused.

I stared awkwardly into the forest.

“Hello?” He waved a hand in front of my face.

I looked back at him. His facial expression was unrecognizable. It showed a mix of confusion and his normal coldness, maybe some concern.

“I overheard you talk with some professor yesterday,” I started fidgeting with my hands. Something inside me wanted to throw that statement out like it meant nothing, but my body reacted as though it was a tough thing to face. “You were speaking about your progress and putting an end to the lessons.”

He didn’t say a words. I could only see his feet and he was standing like a statue, not a swing in the wind.

“I wanted to know why you just didn’t say it to me. I mean that you want to end them,” it was incredibly awkward. As if this little thing became intimate and private. And maybe it did. Maybe I didn’t realize the moment my heart started warming up to those nights in the library. “I would’ve understood.”

He was still silent so I looked up and met his grey immediately. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked into my eyes as if trying to pull answers from them.

“I wasn’t the one to start that conversation.” He said after a pause with some emotion to his words. “And I never wanted them to be over.”

My heart started beating stronger, like it was just released from a tight grip.

“You didn’t?” I asked just to be sure.

“No,” he shook his head.

We stood there, face-to-face. We just looked at each other. When did he get so… handsome? Oh, Hermione, stop it!

“If it’s a burden for you then we can cancel them,” his quiet voice brought us back.

I blinked.

“What?”

“If the lessons are too much work for you we can cancel them,” he repeated with an explanation. “I understand they can be a lot of work,” he said calmly, but his eyes seemed sad and didn’t agree to the words coming out his mouth.

“No, no, it’s not hard.” I swallowed, “I actually became very fond of them. Like a ritual to escape other things you know,” I said it and felt my cheeks burn, what am I five?

He nodded his head in agreement, but I saw that little smile form in his lips before disappearing.

Maybe I wasn’t the only one liking them.

“I wanted to say that I have Quidditch practice today so we could meet up after that.”

“You started playing Quidditch again?” I smiled softly.

“Yeah, I… I thought about our conversation and I realized that maybe you were right. It does help me.” He said avoiding my eyes.

“Well, I’m glad you… took my advice.”

The words ‘I’m happy for you’ couldn’t find their way out. They didn’t feel right. Or rather I didn’t thought it be right to say them.

“In that case I’ll wait for you at our usual spot,” I said to fill up the silence.

“That’s sounds good,” he looked at me again.

Why did it seem like I was thriving from his gaze, like it charged me or something.

I was about to say something when I stumbled a bit. I lost my balance and had to hold onto the closest thing – that thing turned out to be Malfoy. The wind blew so suddenly that it pushed the air out of my lungs making it hard to breathe for a moment. I thought he would push away or freeze in place. But he did the opposite – he gripped my elbows and gently held them while I stood up strongly again.

“You alright?” He asked while I was catching my breath.

“Yeah, I don’t know what that was, sorry.”

He looked at me closely.

“What?” I asked noticing this.

“I’m just thinking how long do I have to come and sit with you until you get back to normal weight.”

I stood up confused.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Look at yourself, you’re so lean it’s unhealthy.”

“Since when do you notice these things,” I asked under my breath but he heard it.

“Since you look like a ghost and it hurts to look at you.”

I looked up at him not expecting this kind of answer. He looked back completely not regretting what he said.

“I… Uh… I’ll try to make it up,” what the hell did I just say.

But he just nodded.

“See you in the evening,” he walked away leaving me alone and confused.

When I got back to the gryffindor common room I ran into Ginny on the stairs.

“So, you’re close with Malfoy?” Ginny asked.

I stopped and turned around to look at her.

“No, why are you asking,” I furrowed my brows.

“Well, ever since the start of the school year he spent every evening in the library, the same place you always sit. At least an hour or two,” she smiled, “seems like he’s waiting for you.”

“Is that so?” I asked.

She nodded slightly.

“Well no, I… We…” I took a breath. “I just tutor him, that’s it,” I said and smiled back.

She squinted her eyes at me.

“Well, we’ll see where it goes,” she smiled and left.

After a few moment I realized that I was standing there like an idiot so I continued to walk to my room.

Today we didn’t have classes so my schedule was free. I sat on my bed thinking about this morning.
Something in it made my mood better, but I couldn’t pin point those details. I started planning the lecture for today. Caught up with some books.

Time flew by and suddenly the sun was setting. Time for me to pack up and head to the library. I took the essentials and went out. I didn’t make it far before a voice called out to me.

“Hermione!”

Oh god.

I turned around and there was Hugo walking straight to me.

“Hello,” I said squeezing out a smile.

“Hey, how have you been?” His smile was even wider than yesterday. Can that happen?

“I’m fine, and you?” I wondered how long this will take.

“I’m great actually, better now that I met you,” he winked at me.

He literally winked at me.

“Glad to hear it.” I said “But unfortunately I have to go," I smiled to him apologetically.

"Where?" He stopped in front of me, blocking my way.

"You see I tutor some times and this evening I have a lesson to teach," I tried explaining.

He looked at me like he was amazed.

"You tutor? Wow, I wish I had a teacher like you. Maybe you could help me?" And before I could say anything he added, "or maybe I could just join tonight’s session?"

I kept smiling, my brain working painfully slowly in trying to come up with something.

"It's actually a personal thing, and I think it's better when the lessons are one-on-one."

His happy face didn't falter.

"Well I could just sit silently and listen to what you have to say," he was trying so hard...

"No, you see, if there will be someone else then it's hard to focus for me and the student," my words started getting harsher.

"Well, I won't bother you I will just hang around," it seemed his talent was to annoy. It was so easy to him, like breathing.

"I would rather focus on one person at a time," my tone was serious this time.

"Well, I'm not sure why you think I would make you lose focus, but if you're insisting..." His eyes darted around as if trying to think of something else.

"Thanks for understanding. I really have to go," I started passing him when he stopped me.

"Who are you tutoring?" Came out like a casual question. Casual but well thought out.

"Why are you interested?" I asked confused.

"Just curious," he shrugged his shoulders. "Who's the lucky one."

I let out a breath. In my mind I thought maybe he would leave me alone if I told him.

"I'm tutoring Malfoy," I said flat out.

His eyes expanded.

"Malfoy?" He repeated.

"Yes," seeing his facial expression I asked, "what's your problem?"

"Nothing, it's just that you're naive if you think I will let you go alone to him."

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Hermione he could be dangerous, I do not wish for you to be alone with him," he tried to be reasonable but I started hearing notes of jealousy in his voice.

"He isn't dangerous." I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, maybe he won't harm you, but he will bully you and I don't want that for you," he started stepping closer, reaching out and caressed my arm.

I pulled away a bit.

"He won't bully me, stop making assumptions," I was getting more annoyed and angry.

"You don't know that," he spoke as if trying to teach a small kid a lesson.

"Actually, I do. I have been tutoring him since September and everything has been going very well."

"I really think I should join just in case," he put on a soft face that said 'I will take care of you' in the most overdone way.

But I didn't want him there. Not because I thought he would make me lose my focus. That was just an excuse. I didn't want him to ruin that evening. I enjoyed those quiet and calm moments with Malfoy. I've come to love the time I've spent with him since it's the only time when I felt like myself. I didn't want no one to interrupt those lessons because Malfoy wasn't the only one learning something, I learned so much about myself and him and I too deepened that knowledge.

"I don't need you to be there," I said with a serious face in a calm voice.

Hugo looked at me for a while, probably thinking of more reasons why he should insist on being there.

"I want to keep you safe," for the first time he spoke without a smile. But it seemed more of an overprotective move.

"You're not my boyfriend to act like this," I had enough of being nice to him. It shocked me how fast things can move.

"Maybe I could be," he grinned and looked me up and down.

"Hugo, get this straight, you have no right to follow me like a puppy in hopes of protecting me. I don't need that and I don't want it."

He just kept starring, not taking anything I said seriously.

"Goodbye," I said and walked away fast.

"By the way, where is this lesson taking place?" He shouted to my back.

I pretend not to hear it and walked away.

"You're late," Malfoy said as I sat down in front of him.

"I know, sorry," I said looking around, hoping I wasn't followed.

"Everything fine?" Malfoy asked looking at me.

"Yeah, why?" I said.

"I don't know, you look... Paranoid," he seemed genuinely worried.

Those grey eyes made me want to not hide anything.

"I got an admirer that I can't get rid of."

It seemed that Malfoy tensed up after this statement.

“Who?” He spoke only one word.

“It’s just some stupid Hufflepuff.” I answered and raised my eyes at him.

They were the dark grey, watching me as if examining my every move. Being in the horizon of those eyes I felt blamed, like I did something wrong. His gaze was intense and hard to hold. Probably noticing this he turned his eyes away.

“Anyway…” I started talking, “I decided we go to the room of requirement today. We’ll have some practice, unless you’re tired after Quidditch,” I looked at him, hoping for an answer with those happy eyes from before.

I’ve come to learn to read his eyes. Their colors meant different emotions, or at least that was my guess. The darker the grey – the worse the feeling. He turned to me as I held my breath. Neutral. Neither dark, nor bright.

“Sure, lead the way,” he stood up and waited for me to do the same.

I avoided some corridors I thought Hugo would be at. And just other students in general. I wasn’t in the mood for chats much. Apart from Malfoy. I mean I had to talk to him during the lesson, only because of that…

The room opened up and we entered.

“What are we doing today?” He asked after seeing my vision come to life.

In the center there was a circle arena, pillows and water on the side of it.

“We’ll practice dueling,” I answered and started to put my stuff down, “get your wand out.”

“Oh please, we both know who duels better, I don’t need practice for that,” he grinned.

I turned to him.

“You underestimate me.”

A soft chuckle left his lips, it made my heart skip a beat.

“I know what I know,” he said.

“You don’t believe I can beat you,” I said as a statement.

“No, I don’t,” he admitted openly.

“Let’s try this then – if I win, you take your lessons seriously,” I offered, then thought for a moment, “and if I win with a big advantage then we schedule more lessons.”

“And if I win?” He asked, his eyes showed that he was intrigued.

“I don’t know, what would you like? Less tutoring evenings?” I asked with a disappointment.

He stood there staring at me.

“If I win I get to organize a day off for you. Or at least we do an activity that I pick. Something to relax and have fun,” he raised an eyebrow.

“Deal,” I held out my hand as he grabbed and shook it.

I walked to the side of this arena, Malfoy stood across from me. A smug smile played in his lips.

“Get ready for defeat,” he said.

I only smiled at him and bowed as we were taught. This move seemed to amuse him but he followed my lead.

Little did he know that I had practiced dueling many times while on our missions with the trio. I mastered it so flawlessly that many people wouldn’t expect of me, but kept it hidden. It became my second language after books. Ron and Harry were impressed with my improvement. I used my own knowledge of psychology to stay calm and rational during fighting. Never a step out of place. I’ve fallen so many times I forgot how it felt to stand up strong one time. But it came to me, slowly and with lots of practice.

I raised my wand and so did he. I put on a mental shield and escaped my everyday self – that always helped me. Not a lot of people saw this side of me. Not a lot of them will. I went into focus mode and got ready for the duel.

Malfoy wasn’t stupid, he didn’t attack first. He tried to use his charm, or whatever you want to call it. He tried to get in your head so you would lose control for a split second, because that was way more than enough. He locked eyes with me, trying to break through my shield. But I wouldn’t let him get away so easily. I held the intense eye contact with the seriousness of professor Snape. Maybe it was him that inspired this state of mind. No little lights playing in my eyes, no worried expression. Just cold sobriety. Malfoy tried to give emotion away through his eyes. But with no luck. I felt the fear in him, I saw it. He realized he hit a cold wall. The same one he built up for everyone around.

Sensing this shift in his confidence I took a step to the side. Slow, small, steady. His eyes faltered before catching on and repeating my move. His focus was balancing on its last piece of sanity.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” he whispered.

It seemed this part of me scared him a bit. I was like an animal, a hunter.

I took my fighting seriously, no matter how unimportant it was. Practice. Always.

I took two more careful steps while he moved to the side by one.

One last push and he’ll break.

I smiled like a huntress. Like he was everything I needed at that moment. Like he was the only one I cared about at that moment. Like there was nothing else I wanted more.

His eyes traveled to my lips and something in his gaze shifted. Surprise? Satisfaction?

I had no time to figure that out – it was attack time.

I raised my wand with one swift move and yelled out the spell.

“Expelliarmus!”

Works like a charm every time. His wand flew out of his hand on cue. Before he could react it was laying on the floor in front of me.

Malfoy looked at his hand, then at the wand, then at me with this confused look. I chuckled to myself picking up his wand.

I walked over and handed him his wand.

“Again,” I said walking back.

This time he didn’t hesitate and attacked me before I was upright from the bow. I swiftly protected myself. Rage was starting to boil in his eyes. Damn this guy lights up fast.

He started throwing spells aggressively, not worrying how powerful they were and what damage they could cause. I dodged every one of them.

One more set of attacks but this time I sent a few simple spells along his way too. The ones he casted didn’t touch my skin, while a couple of mine left little cuts in his perfectly pearly dermis. He didn’t pay attention though. It seemed I woken up a beast inside. I noticed him getting a bit too into it. I gently sent him back and shot his wand out of his hand again.

“Calm down,” I said after caching the stick in my other hand.

“I don’t need to calm down,” he said panting.

“You do, or you’ll start casting killing curses in no time.”

I had no issue breathing. Control exercises really helped me with that. It seemed he heard my words and decided to listen since he squatted down and took a sip from the water bottle beside. I gave him back his wand again and patiently stood at my side. He stared at me the entire time he was resting.

After a minute or two he stood up again, dropped his cloak to the side rolling up his sleeves, and took a stronger stance this time. Nice move. Still it wasn’t near enough. We started shooting spells at each other. In the beginning it was simple, calculated, slow. But soon it turned to a dance that involved us moving around, dodging and casting from many different poses. I must agree he moved like a feather swaying with the rhythm of the wind. Too bad I was the wind. I flew through his attacks with ease, leaving little harmless cuts along my way. We stared moving faster and soon the background became blurry as I only followed his eyes, his grey. Nonverbal spells were my specialty, my hand knew all the movements by heart. It was a game and we were the figurines. We jumped and somersaulted away from oncoming spells. My hearing became more sensitive, it seemed I could tell what he was casting from the sound of his wand movement in the air. I always left his onset untouched while he had little marks all over him now. They were on his arms and neck. I avoided the face. Don’t know why…

The faster we moved the closer he got. It seemed he understood he couldn’t outdo me so he wandered to a different strategy. Slowly he closed up the space between us. Now while dodging I touched his arm, bumped into his shoulder. The dance became hot and dangerous. It seems at some point out eyes started playing more than our minds. Move after move, gaze after gaze, touch after touch. As the dance was coming to a climax I disarmed him as he got a hold on me. He held me tightly right in front of him. His eyes never leaving my face. He was so close I could feel his breath. Somehow in this mess of panting and sweating his breath remained cold. His stare was intense and focused like never before. Like he took the challenge, joined the hunt. His face inched closer to mine. He was so close our foreheads could touch. Our noses. Our… What am I thinking? Oh, not again with these stupid thoughts. But one thing was for sure.

“You’re dead,” I whispered into his lips while poking my wand into his neck.

I won.

He was breathing heavily as he slowly leaned in, almost seemed he wanted to feel my skin on his, before moving away. I had to catch my breath. Not from the fight. From the intensity of that moment. I was so confused about everything happening. It felt surreal, magical even. What is this?

He plopped down on the floor, gulping one water bottle after the other. He was looking at me with admiration in his eyes.

“Where did you learned that?” He asked, his voice slightly raspy from the exhaustion.

“I couldn’t describe it if I wanted to,” I said sitting down myself.

He kept his gaze on me.

“Never seen anyone duel like that…” He said with interest.

“Oh please, there are many people more skilled in dueling than me,” I chuckled, letting some air get into my lungs.

“No, I mean the style of it all. Your movements… They seemed well rehearsed and planned out yet the whole thing was so impromptu. You flew like some bird-flower hybrid,” he scratched his head, “what I meant to say is that you move fast and aptly, and your reaction is beyond anything I imagined.”

I looked at him while he was trying to figure out what was I.

“Thanks,” I said, “that means a lot…”

I stared at him before waking up from this dream-like state.

“Oh, yeah, I think I won fair and square.”

I looked down at the cuts as he followed my gaze.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath and lifted his hand to touch the wounds.

“It’s okay, they won’t harm you. It was just a way to imagine the consequences better.” I got up and got my bag, “here, let me fix it up.”

I walked to him but he moved away slightly.

“I won’t hurt you,” I whispered looking into his eyes.

“You think I’m afraid that you will hurt me?” He said with sarcasm in his voice but his eyes portrayed a different feeling.

“If you aren’t then why won’t you let me help you?” I asked.

He stared at me for a long time before letting out a long breath.

“Fine,” he said quietly.

I sat next to him and pulled out a bottle of thick substance I made earlier just for this purpose. I dropped some on my right palm, with my left hand I took his arm and gently held it while rubbing in the healing potion. It was cool next to his warm skin but soon matched his body temperature. I worked on every single cut to make sure I didn’t miss one. At some places his arm flinched a bit and I would let go. After seeing the cuts heal I took the other arm and started doing the same thing. I was kneeling next to him as he analyzed every move I made. His eyes trailed from my working fingers to my face.

“Okay, do you want me to do the neck, or do you feel more comfortable doing it yourself?” I asked looking straight at him.

He didn’t say a word, only after a few minutes he tilted his head to the side revealing more of his neck. I braced my left hand on his chest gently while I slowly lowered the other onto his skin. His muscles tensed up after the contact but soon relaxed again. I worked slowly and carefully to not make any unnecessary moves.

But something caught my eyes.

“Malfoy, what’s that?” I started raising my left hand to the collarbone of his shirt when his hand snapped around mine stopping it from making any more movement.

My eyes shot up as I met his serious expression. His eyes didn’t show fear, they just stared intensely at mine.

“I… Can you show me?” I whispered, my curiosity taking the better of me.

He kept staring as his breath hitched. By now he was squeezing my hand so tightly it started hurting. I tried moving it a bit but this resolved to Malfoy jumping to his feet and walking away in seconds. I was left there, on the floor, with my hands in the air as if I was trying to touch something invisible. I stared at the place where his face was mere seconds ago. This game of his really annoyed me. Pull, then push. What, was it like a schedule?

I looked at him. He was standing with his back to me, looking at the healing wounds in the mirror. I let out a sigh and started to gather up my things. Will this be another lecture ended with a silent goodbye?

As I was slowly making my way across the room to the door I heard his footsteps. They were fast but undetermined. Great, he will storm off and leave me here like an idiot.

But he didn’t. He passed me and stopped right in front of me. I almost bumped into him. I raised my questioning look. Our eyes met again. Someone should call him ‘the silent man’ since he rarely used his voice for expressing something. His hand rose up in the air next to mine but soon swayed back by his side. I didn’t understand what he was planning. Malfoy was always so unpredictable. But what he did next shocked me. He lifted his head and twisted it to the side giving me easy access to his chest.

“I won’t do anything if you don’t feel okay with it,” I whispered as I tried to understand the look in his eyes.

He kept quiet and after a few moment his hand rose up and unbuttoned the first button on his shirt. After its corners dropped to the sides my eyes left his face and focused on his skin. It seemed blueish red. I slowly lifted my hands up, stopping so many times to think if I’m doing the right thing. But soon my fingers freed the rest of the buttons and his bare chest opened up in front of me.

“Oh my god…”

Chapter Text

“Wha… What is this?” I whispered seeing the marks.

My little cuts were nothing compared to this. His whole chest was covered in bruises of different shades. Based on the changes in some of them you could tell some of them were months old. The colors swirled through the entire color palette. Some were yellow, mixing with green like a zombie. Others carried shades of blue and violet. The worst ones shone in bright and dark red, almost reaching black.

Those bruises scattered through his whole body, wrapping around his waist. I didn’t even want to imagine how far they go. Some were imperfect circles, like he was hit. Others seemed like clusters of many marks in one place, like someone tried to hit the same place. Those blows seemed harsh… There were also cuts that dragged through his porcelain skin, cutting the very top layer just enough to cause running blood drops.

My body froze, mind unable to come up with any thoughts. I was in shock. That view made my heart beat slow down, closer to shutting off. My hands started shaking as I raised them up to touch the damages. My fingers lingered a few inches from those scars, scared that a touch could restart the pain. But soon I carefully landed my fingertips on his skin. One after the other. Malfoy’s breathing hitched for a minute. His muscles tensed up. My hand traced those bruises, as if they were a map. Some of them swelled up a bit.

“Draco…” the name quietly escaped my lips.

His breathing stop for a moment, realizing what I said. I never called him by his name, but this was so raw and eye-opening. This was like the proof I needed for a wave of thoughts to break through. Proof that he is human, that he is real just like any other one. He suffered too. In silence.

Maybe we were more alike than we thought.

“What happened?” My voice was too weak to speak in full volume.

I braced both of my hands on his chest as if I could make those marks disappear. But deep inside I understood that I wished they had never appeared in the first place. I looked up, my eyes a bit teary. He was starring somewhere over my shoulder not moving his gaze. When he felt my eyes on him he moved and faced me. I quickly found his grey. It was drowning it emotions, as if tears could cleanse the pain. The pain from outside and within. Those bruises might heal, but the mental hurt stays.

“Please, tell me…” I begged.

I wasn’t sure why I got so emotional, but soon the answer came to me. I hadn’t seen anyone in this state since the war. Those bruises resembled fighting scars. But the war was over, who was he fighting then?

“It’s complicated,” I’ve never heard him talk like this before.

His voice filled with fatigue and giving up. Those words came out soft, quiet, just human. Not cold and harsh Malfoy. Just human.

“I’ll try to understand.”

I started moving his shirt back a bit, trying to see how far this horrible painting goes.

“I had a fight with my father, if you can call it that.”

His jaw was clenched, body swaying a bit. A strong wave of coldness spread off of him, but his eyes looked at me warmly, as if hugging and protecting me from this poison he was diffusing. But that threat drew me in. It teased my interest, inviting to take a step towards the void of his danger. And when he looked at me with those eyes it felt like he was holding me right above that void, keeping me from falling in. And that drove me crazy in all the right ways. My heartbeat increased, my eyes trying to travel down the paths of his soul.

“Could… Would you let me heal you?” I asked, my feet refusing to step away to give him space.

I wanted to fill that space next to him. I wanted to be near him.

He stayed quiet thinking about my suggestion.

“Why do you want that?” He asked simply.

“Because I can’t bear to look at you knowing how much it must’ve hurt. This is the only way I can help.”

“And why do you want to help me?” He whispered.

I took a shaky breath in.

“Haven’t figured that out yet,” I said honestly.

“I think it'll be too much work..."

"No," I interrupted him.

I couldn't just let him go looking like this...

I pleaded with my eyes, hoping that he would cave in. And he did. He breathed in.

"Fine, but it's not all..."

"I'm aware," I answered, breathing a bit easier now. "Sit down on some pillows, I want to look over these bruises first."

I reached for my bag and went next to the arena.

"Accio!" I summoned the pillows and patted my hand on them.

Malfoy sat down next to me.

"Should I?.." he tucked at the ends of his shirt.

"Yes," it seemed a bit awkward for both of us.

He started taking his shirt of completely and when he did I was punched with another shock wave.

His back seemed worse than his chest and stomach. Bruises, seemed not only from spells but just physical beating.

"I guess you fight regularly with your father," I said inching closer to examine those marks, my voice shaking.

“If you’re uncomfortable…” he started saying.

“No, it’s alright,” I started talking faster from the stress. “Why didn’t you visit a healer?” I asked slowly examining his back.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

He turned his head to look over his shoulder at me.

“Are you seriously asking this? What do you think the healer’s reaction would be?” He explained.

“Oh…” I ripped my eyes away from his.

I searched my bag for Essence of Dittany.

“This won’t take long, but I’m not sure if I can make the old ones disappear completely,” I said, twisting open the potion.

“If it’s not so bad why are you still shaking?” He asked and my hand stopped whatever it was doing.

“I… I don’t know…” I said and slowly carried on, “could you hunch over and hug your knees?”

He followed my instructions without questions. He reached for his knees and lowered his head on them. His back was so wide and strong it looked mesmerizing. If the bruises were thinner lines it would be like marble. His skin color clashed with the yellow and green. But the violet and blue complemented it. I made a note in my head – ‘he has a blue undertone to his skin’. Why did I do that? God knows. Why did I even start to compare which colors of his wounds fit him best – now that’s a question.

“It might feel cold and sting,” I said and dropped a couple of drops on the biggest wounds.

They sizzled in the air and started shrinking. Yet Malfoys muscles tensed up, I saw his knuckles turn white. His face remained calm, but I saw that was just an act from the way he clenched his jaw.

“Relax a bit,” I said softly, dropping more of the potion on other wounds.

He hissed for a second before shutting his mouth. I hated those noises, I hated this view. I hated seeing him in pain. I hated everything that put him and pain in the same sentence.

But I also hated seeing everyone in pain, right?.. This was normal. Completely normal.

Yet a voice in my brain told me I wouldn’t be so emotional next to someone else. I would be cold, serious, professional. Then why was my vulnerability showing next to him. Next to someone who was my enemy for my whole life.

Either way I pushed these thoughts aside. I needed to finish what I started.

In order to try and calm him down I carefully put my hand on his upper arm. The differences in our body temperature clashed, but soon found the middle. He froze from this move of mine, but soon relaxed a bit.

“Why do you fight with your father so much?” I asked, trying to keep his mind away and to fill the silence.

“I wouldn’t actually call it fighting,” his voice was low.

“Then what is it?” I continued to talk while healing the rest of the wounds.

“Well… I’m more of a punching bag for him,” he said and hissed.

I started drawing circles with my thumb on his arm, hoping that this small gesture would make a difference even though it was stupid.

“What do you mean by that?” I was concerned, I didn’t like the direction this conversation was going.

I quickly came to realize that I will probably hate everything that involved his father.

I put the Essence of Dittany to the side and waited for the wounds to close up.

“Well, ever since the war he has been doing a terrible job at hiding his anger.” He chuckled to himself, “you know my father isn’t a good person.”

“Well I thought you got along at least.”

“We don’t. We’ll, not anymore,” he flexed his back a bit.

“Is he the reason all of these appeared?” I asked sitting down to face his back.

“He… Well…” He stammered,

“You can tell me,” I whispered.

He let out a sigh.

“When he’s angry he lashes out. I just appear in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

My breathing stopped for a bit.

“What do you mean by that?” I hoped I wasn’t guessing the answer right in my mind.

“Sometimes he shots spells.” He said slowly, “sometimes if I fall he starts punching and kicking me.”

He went quiet. It seemed those words were blocking his airways since he started breathing deeply after saying them.

“Why… Why do you let him do this to you?” I asked in shock.

“What should I do? I try to defend myself but when he’s angry he’s a different person. Unstoppable, ruthless.”

“Have you ever thought of reporting him?”

He turned his head trying to reach me with his gaze.

“Are you kidding? What, you think I want my father to be arrested again? And because of me?” His voice started getting harsher.

“Okay, okay, sorry, I didn’t think that through,” I started apologizing.

He turned back and stayed quiet. Maybe he regretted saying so much.

“I will apply some bruise removal paste.” I said as we continued to sit in silence.

I squeezed some of the paste out on my fingers and slowly worked it into his skin. I was careful to cover the bruised surface. Massaging it into some of the darker ones. I felt him tense up under my touch and let out a few silent hisses, but I didn’t dare to speak. I would only lift my arm up until his back relaxed and continued.

Soon his whole back was covered and some of the edges began to fade.

“Now lean back on your hands and… and move your legs apart,” I said, even though it sounded ridiculous.

“What?” He asked, questioning if he heard me wrong.

I picked up the bottles and walked around to face him.

“Move your legs apart so I could sit in front of you and access your chest better,” I said holding his stern eye contact.

He leaned back and slowly parted his legs to the side. His eyes followed my every movement as I kneeled right in front of him. Well, this wasn’t awkward at all…

“I will do the same as I did to your back,” but he didn’t respond.

He kept following my moves very carefully.

I opened the potion and pressed my hand underneath the wound before dropping some on them so it wouldn’t get on his pants. My hand caught the excess.

“Does your mother know?” I asked while watching the cut close up.

“No.” He said after some time.

“Why do you keep coming back there?” I asked, working on the other wounds.

“It’s my home, plus I don’t want to leave mother.”

I closed up the bottle and took the paste. Again I squeezed some on my fingers and carefully pressed it to his skin. He took a sharp breath in, but didn’t move. He kept looking at me, I sensed his eyes. This was a weird situation to be in, but it made me feel better that he would be leaving healed. Even if all I did was smear some mixtures on him.

I slowly worked my way across his waist. My fingertips got caught on his six-pack, but I brushed it off and continued. While I was rubbing his chest my eyes got caught on his neck. There were signs of a bruise that once was there. I guessed that he used some kind of charms to get rid of them. But since that magic is hard he only did it on the parts that would be showing with his clothes on. I used my left hand to carefully take his face and turn in away while I gently massaged some of that paste on his neck.

After I was done I let his face go and our eyes met. He was so close I felt him breathing. I swallowed but didn’t back up.

“Thanks,” he said in a low quiet voice.

“No problem, keep yourself safe,” I stammered and quickly glancing to his lips I leaned back.

I looked down at his body where the bruises were slowly disappearing.

“It could take up to an hour to disappear, try not to wash it off,” I said and stood up unable to keep my heart steady.

I gathered my things as he stood up and started to put his shirt back on.

The way he stood facing the window and doing the buttons stirred something in me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He stood tall, handsome. For the first time I let those thoughts be loud in my mind.

He turned around and walked to me, picking up his wand along the way.

“Here,” I said giving him the bruise removal paste.

“What for?” He asked.

“We both know,” I said and kept looking at him.

He took it.

“I’ll probably go,” I said, not sure of what to do.

My feet felt as though cemented into the ground.

“Wait,” he said and stepped forward.

He raised his hand and gently touched my face looking at me. But soon he took his hand away.

“Thank you again,” he said and walked out.

I stood there frozen in place.

What are you doing, Malfoy?

At night I tossed and turned, unable to stay calm. Every time I closed my eyes I saw him. I saw Malfoy, laying on the Malfoy Manor's floor being beaten by his father. The same floor where Bellatrix tortured me. The same place where my status in their eyes was cut into my arm. I still had the scars. Bellatrix probably charmed that knife. I tried everything to get rid of the wound, the reminiscence of our mission where we felt like we failed. No healer could make the mark disappeared. I would walk all my life literally labelled a 'mudblood'. And I didn't want to remember that night. But seeing Malfoy on the floor, bleeding and crying from pain, my head came up with an unconscious thought. I would never want him to suffer like that and if I could I would take that pain away.

But I couldn't help myself so I started screaming. I screamed for Lucius Malfoy to stop. I begged for mercy as he was striking his son to the floor. He casted the torture spell and Draco's body started convulsing. A scream escaped his throat and echoed through the house coming back stronger and louder. I tried running to him, my feet and arms fighting the invisible power holding me in place. When I managed to take a step and got closer to them they disappeared. My heartbeat was pounding in my ears. Sweat was dripping down my face. I turned around, frantically looking for something. Suddenly they appeared in the opposite corner of the room, Malfoy’s father was now kicking him in the ribs. Malfoy laid there on the floor covering his head.

"Malfoy..." I whispered and started running to them but again as soon as I got close they disappeared.

I felt hopeless. I started hyperventilating, my hands shook.

They appeared on the other side again. This time his father was shooting killing curses all over the place while Malfoy dodged them.

"Stop!" I screamed and tried to run again.

But this time I felt some hands wrap around my arms. Masked men in black cloaks held me back while I tried to break free.

"Leave him alone! Stop, you fucking bastard!" I screamed my voice breaking with every word.

I kicked and screamed and did everything I could, but with no luck.

Finally Malfoy collapsed on the floor unmoving. I felt every heartbeat, they painfully hit my chest, pushing me to move forward. The death eaters beside me disappeared. Malfoy's father was standing in place, breathing heavily and looking down at his son.

I started walking when time turned everything to slow motion. I was wet from sweating, my throat hurt. I kneeled next to Malfoy, reaching my hand out to touch him, check his pulse. And when my hand connected with his skin everything disappeared and I started falling in a pit of black nothingness. I screamed as the air flew past me. I was falling without an end. My body was pierced with a hundred needles of cold. This never ending void wore out my vocal chords and soon my voice went quiet and just a silent strain left my lips.

Suddenly a green light lit up somewhere in the distance. It kept falling after me, faster and faster. When I sensed that it'll catch up I started moving frantically but my efforts were cut off when the light pierced my eyes.

Then I woke up.

My throat actually felt horrible, as if I had actually screamed at the top of my lungs. I was panting like a dog, not able to keep the air inside. My whole bedding was sweaty, hairs sticking to my forehead. I covered my face with my hands.

What the hell was that? Why can't I stop thinking about him? Did his bruises traumatized me so bad? Or is my brain trying to tell me something else?

It was early morning, but I was for sure not going back to bed. I was afraid of seeing that all over again. I stumbled out of bed and looked in the mirror. My face was so white it seemed I saw a ghost and became one. Gosh, what is happening to me?

I walked quietly through the castle. The halls echoed in silence, thank God no one was screaming here. I reached the prefects bathroom and entered. It wasn't lit, only the light of the full moon peaked inside, giving it all a mysteriously calming energy. I didn't bother lighting candles, I'd like to be in the dark that didn't hide something.

I filled the bath with hot water. Bubbles flooded over the top, but magically cleaned themselves as soon as they hit the floor. I took my clothes off, the air making my skin shiver, and slowly stepped inside. The water burned me, but I didn't step out. I kept my breath steady and submerged myself inside. The water made my body tense up, but soon the muscles relaxed and I could calm down. I leaned back, taking in the night coming through the windows. My thoughts trailed forward and I started talking to myself.

“Why are you in my head?” I whispered to the air around me as if my voice could travel through the water pipes. “Why the fuck am I thinking about you?”

I felt like going crazy. I tried everything to turn my focus away but somehow it always circled back to him. Like he was waiting in the corner of my mind knowing I’d come. I didn’t even know why the time spent with him became the most memorable. Maybe since I was spending a lot of one-on-one time with him. But still this was Malfoy. The biggest bully, the coldest human, the ‘daddy’s boy’. Maybe the change in him attracted me. No, not in a ‘like’ kind of way… It’s just that he seemed more approachable even if he was still an asshole. He didn’t bully anymore, now it was more of a playful insult if that makes sense. And if he got angry then he bit you, but still not in a ‘bullying’ way. He was still cold, but I noticed the cracks in his walls. Could it be that he started opening up to me? But why… Didn’t he have friends? Or someone he could laugh with? Maybe he didn’t laugh… I could tell his cold lingered on a string sometimes. He would break and the warmer side of him would come out. Even if it was just a wisp in his eyes.

I certainly didn’t have many friends. I actually pulled away from the people I talked to. I pushed everyone away but he… He had a way of coming closer every time. I noticed how details about him drew me in. Some little things caught my eye. His gaze when we were together, his strong wide back, his coldness that seemed less cold with our every lesson.

Was I going insane? Probably.

I guessed it was just a stupid observation. I didn’t allow myself any more guesses.

I washed my hair and walked back to my room. For some unknown reason I felt like something bad was going to happen, but I brushed it off.

When the appropriate hours came into the horizon alongside the sun I got ready and headed out for breakfast. I still didn’t have an appetite, but Malfoy’s words stuck with me. Maybe I was hoping he would sit next to me again.

Now the halls were filled with student voices. Some were complaining about homework, while others laughed and talked happily with each other. I noticed some more glances my way. Now more slytherin students, mostly girls, looked at me with this stern look that made me feel awful. It seemed they wanted to twist my head off for some reason.

I turned around the corner when I suddenly stopped right in the middle of the hall. What is it with me and corners, stumbling upon something that isn’t pleasant? It was Malfoy. With a girl. A black haired slytherin. They were talking, well, she was saying something to him while he just looked at her. He was leaning on the wall, not taking his eyes off of her. But his stare… It wasn’t cold, it was heartwarming. Like hearing her voice and seeing her is everything he needs. I’m not sure why but my heart started aching. That closeness we kept discovering seemed to drown. Why would we ever talk about something more than learning? There was clearly nothing there. But why did it hurt? This was Malfoy, the enemy. If he was picking people that deserved his warmth, why was I even on the list, like was slowly scribbling my name letter by letter. The burn was slow, but definitely there. How could I handle his bruises and wounds yesterday but can’t handle this? What did I expect?

With my mind in a haze I forced myself to move. I turned my eyes away, though the image was still clear in my mind.

Hermione, stop!

I can’t let myself be so naïve.

Ginny appeared next to me out of nowhere and started talking.

"Hey, I wanted to ask you some stuff, could we chat?"

"Sure," I said lost, walking with her to our table.

No matter how hard I tried I couldn't get that view out of my eyesight.

"So, I wanted to ask you if you - as the head girl - can make changes in the Quidditch pitch reservations for practice." She went straight to the point.

"Huh?" I didn't hear half of what she said.

She reached out for some food.

"You know, so our house team could get some practice in. We were kind of late to go to McGonagall's and now all good time slots are filled." She explained, chewing on a piece of toast.

"I... Uh, I'm not sure," I hadn't even thought of checking what I can do as head girl.

"Well, could you... Oh, mail!" She got distracted quite quickly.

Owls flew in and made circles over the tables, looking for the right students. A packet of tied up envelopes fell down in front of Ginny. And soon - another one. She laughed when she saw them.

"Guys are stupid," she said more to herself than to me.

A few fell into my plate as well. I was about to check one out but another caught my attention. In was sickly green and almost leaking... My sixth sense told me that this wasn’t good...

"Ginny, move away," I said calmly, trying not to worry.

"Wh..." She didn't finish the word before seeing the green substance destroying the paper.

She slowly slid a bit further from me.

"Don't touch that," she suggested in a quiet voice.

But I hadn't had the time to think or do anything, it all happened so fast. The envelope exploded spilling the green substance all over the place. I screamed and tried to cover my face with my hands.

Soon I felt my palms burning. My face had that itch too. I looked down and there were giant cysts growing on my palms and hands. I touched my face and felt the same happening to some of it.

Ginny got closer, her eyes filled with panic.

"Are you okay? What was that? Are you hurt?"

She spilled the question faster than I could react. The blisters were growing and sending a burning sensation through my whole body. It became hard to breathe, not to mention the pain was growing alongside the size of those things. My skin felt like being peeled off.

"Fuck, we need to get you to the hospital wing, c'mon," she tucked at my arm. "Neville, help!"

They got me on my feet, but braced both my sides since I slowly felt like shutting down.

"We need to hurry. Out of the way!" Ginny shouted around, both of them dragging me like a rag doll.

"She isn't looking good..." Neville made a quiet comment.

"No wonder she isn't looking good, she basically was attacked with chemicals," Ginny's voice was strict and stressed.

My hearing slowly faded, like they were talking from further away. The pain traveled down my spine, taking over the entire body. My mind went blank. I wished I could stammer something, but my vocal chords refused to work. I could just open and close my mouth like a fish. The burning only intensified, like the flame was on the inside.

"Hold her," I heard them speaking very far away. Or maybe I was the one far away?

I slowly stopped feeling their tight grip on both my hands. My feet dragged on more tiles. My head was so heavy I couldn't seem to hold it. Sweat dropped from my face, feeding that fire and making it worse.

"Neville, she might fall..." Ginny sounded concerned, even thought I could only hear her as a whisper.

"I'll carry her," I felt the ground being erased from my feet.

Someone took me in their arms and carried me through the corridor outside great hall.

In that pain and suffering of nothingness I lost my conscience.

I opened my eyes. There I was, standing in the halls of Hogwarts. It was quiet, students moving around like shadows. 'Got to get to the lesson' I thought to myself and turned around the corner. There he was. Malfoy. With a black haired girl. She was wearing the Slytherin house uniform. They were both leaning against the wall. She talked and he looked at her like she was his everything. A pit inside me opened up. I swallowed my words and turned around. Fine, I'll find another way. But in the next corridor the same scene awaited me. Him. Her. Talking. Leaning on a wall. Eye contact.

What?

I went back, almost expecting to find the previous hall empty but they were there too... Like frozen in time. Is my vision playing with me? I shook myself off. Focus.

I turned a whole different way just to run into them again. Is this some kind of joke? I ran away to another hall. At this point they all looked the same. And there they were again. And again. And again. No matter how long I ran, where I took the turn, they always awaited me. I felt annoyed so I decided to confront him. Enough of these games.

"Hey!" I shouted, coming closer. Only he looked my way. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

He chuckled.

"Excuse me?" His voice seemed unnatural.

"Why.... Why are you in my dreams?" I whispered, realizing everything.

"They're your dreams… aren't they? Shouldn't you know?" He said, but added, "but I think I have an idea."

My point of view shifted. In seconds in stood there, leaning on the wall where the Slytherin girl was before.

"Wha..." I started to ask.

"This is your dream. This is what you wish for.” His voice sounded dangerously slippery.

“I don’t want this,” I answered and looked down.

My curly hair was now long, straight and black, falling next to the slytherin symbol on my cloaks.

“I certainly do not wish to be in Slytherin,” I raised my eyes and his gaze made my stomach swarm with butterflies.

Gone all that grey shade guessing nonsense. Now his eyes were light, almost silver. They hooked you in like you couldn’t take your eyes away.

“You wish to be like someone I would show interest to,” he whispered, his voice like honey.

“And why would I want that?” I asked, still unable to take my eyes off of his.

“Because you know that I will never show interest in you, the real you.”

I understood. I became that slytherin girl he was talking to. I became everything I wasn’t.

“I never asked for your attention,” I said, feeling a bit uneasy.

“You never asked, but you craved it,” he swooped in a bit closer.

“Those are some fancy words for a fancy cunt,” anger filled that pit that opened up before.

He chuckled in a low tone.

“You are running from the obvious truth.”

“Listen, motherfucker, I don’t need your attention or interest…” I started saying.

“Oh, but you do,” he cut me off, “it’s in your veins, that desire. That itch to be noticed by someone. By me.”

I turned away, unable to take that eye contact anymore. I noticed the hall blurred out, only the part where he almost pressed me to the wall was still intact.

“It’s running in your dirty blood.”

I looked up from the sudden change in tone and I was able to spot Lucius Malfoy in front of me before he slapped me hard across the face and I fell down. That half of my face felt like burning.

I stood up, trying not to cry from that pain. Looking around the place was familiar. Only when the full room came into view I remembered it.

Ron was sitting at the table while I was standing next to the counters of the Burrows kitchen.

“And I’m a match for her,” he was talking. Just like he did back then.

“It’s dangerous, Ron,” I heard myself say.

“I know, but I need to try,” he seemed desperate. I didn’t notice this emotion that night. I only thought about how stupid he was considering this.

But now I had no more might to beg him not to do stupid things. I knew how this ends. I didn’t want to repeat it again. I didn’t want to be proved right when it’s too late.

“Well…” I tried to think of what I wanted to say. “Does it feel like she’s your everything?” I asked out of nowhere.

“What?” Ron looked at me confused.

I swallowed back my emotions.

“Do you look at her and think she’s the most amazing person you ever met? Do you want to be by her side when she’s in a low place? Do you get jealous when she talks to other guys? Does she make you feel some kind of way?”

“Um,” he blinked, still surprised from my questions, “I’m still exploring this feeling. But I’ve never felt like this before.”

I closed my eyes. So yeah, I was never an option. I tried and made up progress just for all of it to be in my mind.

“So, can you tell me something about it?” He asked carefully.

“Uh, I’m sure you can find books on it. I won’t discuss about something I’m against.”

He looked at me, as if he was doubting me.

“Won’t you try to persuade me not to do it?” The words slowly left his tongue.

I’m not sure if my dreams were stupid, or if he just wanted to see me worry.

I just shook my head.

“No,” I said simply.

He leaned back in his chair.

“Why?” Seemed he was pushing to hear an answer as to why I’m not as obsessed as before.

“Because you have Lavender, and I will not interfere in your relationship. If there are dangers she is the one who is supposed to beg for you to not make dumb decisions. If you both believe that it’ll work – go ahead. It’s between you two. You are grown adults. I’ve already said that I’m against it if you need my opinion so badly.”

He starred at me with his eyebrows furrowed.

I blinked and the scene changed.

Ron was standing in front of me, holding my hand. It was nighttime, we were standing outside the Burrow. Voices inside shouted and laughed. It was Harry’s birthday.

“Hermione, no one needs you to be stronger, you were fine the way you were,” he talked in front of me.

You could smell the alcohol.

“Ron, I grew up,” I said.

“I still wish you didn’t, then we could’ve grown up together.”

I stared at him, trying to find the ‘we’ that once existed. All three of us. But it had been a long time.

“We couldn’t,” I said calmly, “it’s like we’re different time zones. We could never work together. The growing up would be too slow for me and too fast for you. We have different needs and expectations.”

“And what expectation of yours didn’t I reach?” He asked, almost annoyed.

I looked away, not sure of how this all would affect my memory of him. But I was completely mentally parted from the part of me that hung on the hope of us. I looked back at him, straight in his eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to do it,” I said.

Ron’s hand got cold, as if frozen in time, he instantly let go. His skin became pale, all color draining out.

He started floating backwards, moving further away. Soon his silhouette shifted. The scenery twisted and mixed to bring me to a new place. There I was, drowning in a sea of black. We all stood around a hole in the ground. Faces wet and red from tears. Lots of hugging and sobbing. Lots of regrets and ‘could have been’s’. I slowly walked to the side, trying not to disturb the other grieving people. I sat down on the bench next to Fred’s grave. He joined me not long after. I turned to look at him, he’s wearing a black suit with a black tie, tied up in the knot he and George created. He looks identical to George.

“You were there, right?” I asked him.

“How could I not be?” He said, starring at the casket that held his little brother.

I nodded and sat in silence. I started picking at my nails.

“Do you take care of him?” I asked, a tear escaping the corner of my eye.

“I do.” He answered and smiled gently, “he’s stubborn. He doesn’t want to talk to you since you were right.”

I smiled too.

“I could’ve guessed that.”

He turned to me.

“Hermione, stop living in your head.”

“I don’t know how…” I confessed. “I’m afraid.”

“What of?” Fred never judged.

“Of everything that can go wrong,” I whispered the answer in a shaky voice.

“You’re a human, you have feelings – use them, express them, let them grow,” he almost pleaded.

“I have no one to give my feelings to,” I shrugged my shoulders.

“You do. You just lock that in your head. You lock yourself.”

“I feel safer that way,” I made a conclusion.

“You feel safer questioning every minor move of someone? You feel safer living in speculations? You feel safer in never trying?” He asked calmly.

I looked away, not knowing the answers to his questions.

“Let yourself feel,” he hugged me by the shoulders, “and get better.”

“What?” I asked since his last words made no sense.

He just looked at me.

“Wake up.”

I tried to understand what’s happening but it seems my mind was the one asleep. Soon I felt my hand hurting. Then the right side of my face. I held up my palm to feel it but a burning sensation made me pull away. The pain trickled through my body, sending unpleasant shivers all over.

And then I opened my eyes.