The Forgotten Zabini

XXVII

Hermione was going to confront that bloody, disgustingly attractive ferret. For days he had been avoiding her, and she knew he was avoiding her because everywhere she went, he left the moment she entered the door. And Blaise? One of these days, she was going to find out what he was hiding. He spent long hours gone and would come back smelling like dirt or with smudges of what looked like dried paint on his cheek. Those two boys would be the end of her. A week had gone by and Ginny was still around- and it didn't seem she was going to leave anytime soon. Besides, Aediva was overjoyed to have guests to coddle, and Hermione loved to have Ginny around, but that wasn't the problem.

Several times, Hermione asked Ginny about her relationship status with Harry, and every time the ginger smiled and brushed the question off. She would make up some excuse about "oh, it's no big deal," or "Pfft, it's not important". Hermione swallowed her frustration and pasted on a smile. She would give the girl some time, no matter how infuriating it was to stay in the dark. Summer breezed by with sunny and cloudy days, a few afternoon showers, and a stunning rainbow afterward marking the passing of time. Hermione ate well, enjoyed the outdoors in good company, yet still felt underlying guilt. Why couldn't she just relax and be happy?

There was always that familiar tension in her upper back and the stiffness that refused to let her fall asleep without hours of tossing and turning that made Ginny grumble about taking a dreamless sleep potion and reduced her to stomp out to the guest room. The 2 friends had noticed that sleeping together helped bring more comfort to each of them but it was too much when Hermione shifted at all hours of the night. Ginny was attentive but not enough that she noticed Hermione casting a silencing charm over herself every time she felt the drowsiness settle in, usually at the early light of dawn. Hermione was prone to screaming when she had nightmares.

It didn't help that the secret of Ron's amorous relationship with Pansy Parkinson was weighing on her conscious. Yet again, this was Malfoy's fault. A letter 2 days after their trip to Diagon Alley in his pureblood trained scrawl simply read: don't tell her. trust me. At this rate, Hermione was ready to tell him to shove the supposed trust up his arse and leave it there so he could suffer as she did. Had they not been almost friends just a few days ago? She struggled to admit it, but she enjoyed their lighthearted exchange of insults. That was before, though. Now, she only knew what Draco was up to by the smell of cigarette smoke that followed him around. He was polluting the house. She missed him.

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When Hermione awoke on the morning of July 17th, it was barely dawn outside. A line at the horizon was lazily turning orange as the world woke up and yet Hermione felt a sense of bizarre urgency. Her head spun and she felt as if an invisible string was drawing her up out of bed and into the silent hall. She stumbled out, leaving Ginny curled up in bed, hurriedly making her way down the hall, past the stairs, and into the guest room hall. She stopped when the feeling ceased and felt heavily disoriented. She shivered in her oversized t-shirt, legs bare and covered in goosebumps. She frowned as she looked around. Had she sleepwalked? What was this?

A muffled wail pulled her out of her bewildered state as Hermione turned to look at the door from which the sounds were coming. If she listened carefully she could hear sobs growing slowly louder, as if they were fading into life. She didn't think. She pushed into the room from which the cries were coming from and stopped in the doorframe, eyes widening, pace pausing. Shaking on the large bed was the pale figure of Draco Malfoy, eyes squeezed shut as tears rebelliously spilled out, gripping the bedsheets as he thrashed. A panic attack, perhaps, or a horrible dream. Hermione knew how it felt to wake up from those alone.

Without thinking, she rushed forward and sat on the edge of the bed, hand shakily outstretched, desperately trying to find a way to soothe him. She placed a light hand on his right arm as he gasped and continued to cry. "Draco, Draco, it's all right. It's alright. I'm here," she muttered. The boy registered the voice and covered his face with his left, putting his dark mark in full display in an attempt to save face. Hermione sucked in a breath at the splotches of mottled black, green-tinged ink. She swallowed her fears and settled herself closer to him, resting her back on the headboard, before gathering her childhood enemy into her arms and stroking his pale blonde hair as his tears stained her shirt. "It's alright. I'm right here," she reassured.

He immediately reacted to her touch and wound his arms around her waist, resting his head on her chest in a way that made her feel funny. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't cast a silencing spell that was strong enough," he gasped out. "Shhh, you're fine," Hermione said, raking her fingers through his soft hair and resting her head on his own, wrapping her arms against the top of his bare shoulders. His breathing gradually slowed, the tears stopped spilling, yet he stayed there, his cool breath against her arm. She felt his breathing grow heavy and saw that his eyes were closed, long eyelashes still moist. They stayed there in that embrace, a tangle of arms and legs until Briar sank into sleep as well.

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Bright light hit her right in the face as Briar woke up and she groaned at the position of her neck from sleeping against the carved wood headboard. She squinted against the morning sun and frowned as she heard rustling. She dully registered that Draco was not in bed anymore; instead, he was bustling around the room, summoning items and picking others up before aggressively tucking them into a truck. "Merlin, Draco, what on earth are you doing?" Hermione asked hoarsely. Her throat was parched. "Packing, can't you see?" Draco responded gruffly. "And why?" Hermione asked back. He stopped and looked up before glaring at her. His gaze was so intense that it made Hermione want to shrink, to leave his path of scrutiny.

"I'm not entitled to give you an answer," he finally said shortly. Hermione rolled her eyes and gingerly stood up. She was vaguely aware of her bare legs as she crossed her arms and hoped her hair wasn't a bird's nest. "Yes, you are. As a guest of my house, I must know why you are suddenly packing all of your things at..." she looked at a little bedside clock, "7:49 in the morning." He ignored her statement as he continued to fold and stuff things in the trunk. "If you can't tell, Briar, not everything is about you. And besides, I have overstayed my time here. I'll return to Malfoy Manor and that will be that," he said snidely.

Hermione's eyes sparked with rage. How dare he- how could he- no. He wouldn't. She marched forward and pulled the jumper he was packing out of his hands. "No, you won't. I know why you're leaving- it's for self-preservation. You felt vulnerable last night because I saw you during a panic attack and instead of confronting your insecurities, you're running away like a scared rabbit. Let me tell you this, Mr. Malfoy- I'm not having it. You will stay here, put on a shirt, and eat breakfast with the rest of us until Aediva allows you to leave or your mother gets better. Understood?" she ordered. Draco looked like he would strangle her.

He leaned forward ever so slightly, now at eye level with Briar which somehow made her feel even more insecure. "Funny, isn't it? Whenever you're uncomfortable, you switch to Malfoy. Every time you get more comfortable, it's Draco," he remarked, a mean smile appearing on his lips that were just centimeters away from her own. She tried not to breathe in the scent of expensive cologne mixed with cigarettes and managed to say, "not everything is about you either." Instead of frowning, the bastard smirked. He stood up straight again and shrugged. "Well, since you're psychoanalyzing me, I might as well do it to you too. Look, you're getting flustered again. Your left hand twitches every time," he remarked. Said left hand met his cheek in a resounding slap and he cursed some rather foul words.

"No, that was me resisting the urge to slap you," she said hotly. The blonde rolled his eyes as he rubbed his tender cheek. "If you hate me so much, why do you even care if I stay or leave?" he yelled out. " I do care if you leave! I want you to stay, because believe it or not I rather enjoy your company when you're not being an arrogant, hot-headed prat with a chip on his shoulder!" she yelled back, cheeks flaming as she realized what she said. His eyes slightly widened at the revelation and narrowed again. "Fine. I'll stay. Now please leave my room before I do something I would deeply regret," he said stonily. Hermione didn't need to be told twice as she backed out, muttering a meek apology for his cheek before running to the safety of her room.

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vulnerable draco>>>>>

I finally updated after yet again too long without one! I'll try to publish another chapter before summer break but the end of the year is insanity to deal with so- no promises.

Get vaccinated if you can, lovelies! I hope everything is ok for you!

-OrbitAstra 💫