Maybe Some Day

Chapter 9

It was my fifth year during the reign of Umbridge, and I had been appointed a member of the Inquisitorial Squad.

And my "plan" to woo Granger steadily over time was going horribly.

And it was my own bloody fault, of course.

I'm a stubborn arse, a massively stubborn arse.

I simply could not convince myself to approach her, not since the disappointed look crossed her face when she saw the pin on my robes.

She absolutely loathed Umbridge. How could I blame her? I despised the witch and I was a member of her stupid squad.

But I didn't have a choice. Though Draco was protected from scrutiny simply because of his name, my parents didn't induce the same fear. In order to keep my (really their) reputation clean, I had join something that could reaffirm the assumption that I cared about blood status.

Even though I knew I couldn't bare to see her disappointed look directed towards me, I chose a family that didn't even love me - again.

And then it happened. Umbridge finally found the secret club the Golden Trio had formed as an army against the Ministry - or so she told us. And all of the sudden I was chasing Hermione through a series of hallways, finally cornering her in a washroom.

"No! No, stay away! Don't touch me, Parkinson! Take one more step, I dare you."

It was more her tone than her words that caught me off guard. Her voice was cold and hostile. The tone a victim would take to their attacker - the tone one would take to an intimidating stranger. I shouldn't have been surprised, I had been nothing but that to her. I'd been chasing her like a predator for the last ten minutes for Merlin's sake! But I couldn't stifle the hurt that coursed through me as realization struck me like a Bludger to the head. One that I should have known before. Hermione Granger did not trust me. It should have been obvious, but I was a foolish school girl in love.

So I decided to open my stupid trap.

"You really still hate me, don't you?"

I lost my composure and control as my eyes started to well with unwanted tears. Her face twitched but remained stoic. She watched with blank eyes as a single tear escaped down my cheek. I had tried to turn, but it was too late, she'd seen. I was sure she would know and I seriously contemplated effectiveness of a self-inflicted killing curse in the few seconds it took for her to start yelling so fiercely I almost fell in my haste to turn back to her in shock.

"YOU DON'T GET TO PLAY THE VICTIM!"

I knew Hermione had the deadliest quip of any witch I had ever met, but even she seemed surprised at her outburst. Neither of us dared to break the shocked silence until -

"I'm sorry."

I didn't realize I was speaking. My voice felt and sounded foreign - the words almost sour on my tongue.

"I'm sorry for everything, Hermione."

She was throughly perplexed. Her mouth gaped like a fish, her beautiful, dark eyes wide as galleons.

"I have to do this. I'm so, so sorry. I know my words mean nothing to you."

Before Hermione could reply, Umbridge appeared seemingly out of nowhere with Potter in tow.

I rushed to secure a hold on Hermione's arm without properly restraining her.

Later, horrified at Umbridges' determination to torture Potter for information, I released Hermione as she protested.

I watched, warily, as she led Umbridge Merlin knows where, barely catching a suspicious look thrown back at me.