Traitor: A Draco Malfoy Story

fifty-seven

I picked myself up off the floor. Every inhale was like I was breathing in razor blades. I changed quickly into casual clothes, discarding my Quidditch robes and gear on the floor. Why bother picking them up? They weren't mine anymore, Marcus had made that clear.

I looked in the mirror as I passed the single stall and open shower that stood in the corner. The purple shape of his fingers was already forming around my neck. I tucked two fingers in the collar of my hoodie and brought it up to my chin, gulping. 

I'd go to Jenna, but she was bound to be in the Slytherin common room mourning the defeat, and I couldn't show my face there. I knew she could probably help get rid of these bruises, but she wasn't an option.

Maybe Harry had something that would help.

I didn't know exactly where the Gryffindor common room was, but the portraits were able to point me in the direction of the Fat Lady. The bigger issue was what I would do once I arrived. I obviously didn't know the passcode, so there would be no getting in that way. Maybe I could convince a Gryffindor to let me in?

I rounded the corner and was greeted with the exact opportunity I needed: the Fat Lady's portrait swung open with a woosh and a startled cry from the woman.

"Slow down, girl, you'll tear me off my hinges!"

I was about to reach towards the painting when I recognized the mass of brown hair that was hurrying past me. I also registered the movement of brushing away tears that were coming faster than wanted. Hermione rushed down the stairs, and I started after her.

"Hermione, wait!" I rasped through my damaged throat. "Are you okay?"

She stopped at the end of a corridor and finally turned around. I could tell she was curious about my voice, but she snapped at me anyway. "Go away, Azalea."

"What happened?"

"Did you not just hear--" she started, but was cut off by her own sob.

"I'm not leaving you alone here, 'Mione," I said softly, slowly walking towards the girl. Her shoulders were shaking, her head in her hands as she cried. My heart went out to her in such a strong way I was almost brought to tears myself. The violent thought almost surprised me, but it was true: I would tear whoever or whatever made her feel this way apart limb by limb. "Tell me what happened."

"It's Ron, he...Lavender, they...it's not like I ever told him, or even knew myself, but...watching them kiss was just..." it was as much as she could get out, but I put the pieces together. I pulled her towards me, enveloping her in a tight hug, rocking her back and forth as we stood. Her arms slipped around me and gripped me with the same fervor, the despair completely clear.

I held her until she pulled away. "Come on, let's sit," I said, gesturing towards the first few steps of the winding staircase that bordered the corridor. "What would take your mind off of this right now?"

"I don't know," she sighed, tears still rolling down her face though slower.

"Why don't you show me that spell that Flitwick was trying to teach you advanced students the other day?" I asked. "The bird-conjuring one?"

The ghost of a smile danced over her lips as she raised her wand. "Avis."

Seven little yellow birds appeared in the air, flying low over the stone floor and tweeting sweetly. We both sat with our arms wrapped around our knees, watching them. She heard the footsteps before me and turned around. Harry slowly made himself down the steps towards us.

Hermione gestured to the birds that he was quite obviously staring incredulously at. "Charms Spell. I'm just practicing." She wiped her nose on her sleeve.