Cruel and Beautiful World

Chapter 47: Come Together

Draco and Hermione moved through the halls of Hogwarts, trying to take as many hidden passageways as they could, so they would be less inclined to run into Death Eaters and Snatchers. Unfortunately, these passages were where the majority of the Dementors were lurking, since the rest of the castle was shining with the light of day.

Draco was afraid he might be overusing his Dark Mark. The more he touched the lit tip of his wand to it, the longer it took for a Dementor to react. They were starting to recognize something as being off, and that was not good.

"Maybe we should try lifting the shield that prevents Patronuses," suggested Hermione.

"There is no way we could do that without the Dark Lord noticing."

Hermione crinkled her nose.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. You were just getting so good at saying You-Know-Who."

Draco smirked. "Sorry, love. Old habits."

The two of them reached the end of the passageway they were in. Draco was about to pull back the tapestry they were hidden behind when he heard several footsteps approaching. He stopped and listened.

"Did you hear about Lestrange? Walked right off the bloody tower, he did."

Draco felt Hermione's hand tense in his.

"Really? Why would he do that?"

"His wife says he was Imperiused, but dunno how the Mudblood woulda done it without a wand. I think he just cracked. Let her go and offed himself." The person chuckled. "Best part is, that slave o' his jumped right after him."

"The one that just got freed?"

"Yeah. She did it right in front o' her Mudblood brother. It was a riot!"

Their voices trailed off as they continued down the corridor.

Draco looked at Hermione, his eyes well enough adjusted to the dark to see she was staring off vacantly, her breathing slightly heavy as she continued to listen to them.

"You all right?" asked Draco once they were gone.

Hermione nodded, but she did not look at him.

"Mind if I ask who it is you feel sorry for? Rodolphus or Fiona?"

She shrugged. "Both. And Quigley. I know we're supposed to hate him for betraying us but I ... I just don't, Draco. He's told me stories about Fiona before, when they were younger. She seemed ... normal. Fun even. He loved her more than anything. It's just ... it's so terrible."

Draco nodded. "And Rodolphus?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "I don't know." A tear dripped down her cheek. "I didn't realize it before, but I think I have a mild case of Stockholm syndrome."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"It's a Muggle term," she said. "For victims who sympathize with their captors. Because I ... I don't hate him either, but I hate myself for feeling anything for him. I should hate him. I want to hate him. Even when he told me we would never see each other again, I knew he was going to do this. I didn't stop him, and I feel terrible about that. Why do I feel terrible, Draco?"

Draco frowned. He lifted his hand and wiped below her wet eyes with his thumb. "Because you're a nice person who is incapable of hatred. Pure hatred, at least. It's a good thing. Much better than being a cynic, like me."

"It's not fair," she said. "I deserve to feel hatred properly."

Draco smirked. "Properly?"

"Yes."