The Internal Devices

Chapter 29

For three days, Hermione drifted around the castle in a daze. She didn't attend her classes. She didn't attend meals. She was a shell. She wasn't even sure if she was breathing sometimes.

The only people she saw were the girls. She would return from her walks down abandoned passages late at night, and Astoria would silently help her change into pajamas. Pansy washed and brushed through her hair, and Ginny made sure she was eating. They had tried speaking with her for the first two days but finally had given up. At night, the three girls crowded onto Hermione's bed and stayed with her. Astoria had a habit of wrapping her thin arms around Hermione so she would never wake up feeling alone.

Maybe she would appreciate their devotion later, but today she felt empty. Today, she felt numb. Today was the funeral.

Hermione hadn't even glimpsed Draco during these days and hadn't gone looking for him. It was too much. It was easier to be around those who didn't know Theo as she and Draco had. For the first time, she really understood the appeal of occlumency. If she could tear out this pain and bury it so far that even an accomplished legilimens could never uncover it, she would.

Pansy laid out a lovely black dress on the bed for Hermione to slip on. It was the same style as the emerald one she wore to the winter formal in December. The parallel of it sent a small spark of despair through her, but it quickly fizzled out into nothing. Emotions were such a trivial thing; her mind quickly tossed the feeling aside and pushed her legs through the dress. Her movements were mechanical, her eyes pointed at the floor.

Ginny applied some rouge to Hermione's colorless cheeks as Astoria quickly plaited her hair. Too soon, Pansy placed a tentative hand on her arm. "It's time."

The funeral took place on the Hogwarts grounds. Only a small spattering of students, teachers, and friends attended as if his death were a minor thing. Madam Zabini came and clenched her son tightly in the back row. Ginny rested her head on Harry's shoulder, silently crying. Professor Mcgonagall gave a eulogy from the podium, and when asked to speak, Draco refused. Draco stood as still as stone in the front row. His suit was crisp and his hair was perfect. He looked the very model of a pureblooded heir. Hermione couldn't bring herself to join him in the front, and instead remained hidden further behind. It was a short service, and with magic, it took all of two minutes to lay Theo's casket in the ground. And then it was over; attendees began trickling out, returning to their lives, but Hermione couldn't. Not when her life was now six feet under.

A flash of red bobbed into her vision, and she slowly raised her eyes to face an extremely nervous Ronald Weasley. Something stirred inside her, and her grief cracked open an eye. She stared mutely at him, expressionless.

After an awkward silence, Ron took a breath. "Hi, Hermione." She didn't respond but held his stare. "Erm, well, I wanted to say I'm sorry. For how I acted before. And, erm, I'm sorry for your...loss. I never meant for you to be hurt like this, and I know I overreacted. I'm sorry." He anxiously scratched at his hair.

Oh yes, her grief was awakening, and as it stretched, it released a violent shard of anger. It was so incredibly sharp, Hermione felt a physical ache in her core. Her eyes narrowed as she continued to stare at Ron. Her rage was growing to a rolling boil, and it must have shown on her face because he started backing away, hands raised.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione, I really am. That's all I came to say. I'll just go now."

She felt a humorless laugh wrench itself from her throat. The corners of her mouth didn't even bother turning upwards. Before she knew it, her wand was in her hand and pressed against his vile jugular.

"How dare you."

Ron seemed to forget all of his auror training and froze in place, at the mercy of her wand. His panicked eyes darted side to side, but there was no one to help him. She dug the wand in further, sending the briefest shocking hex into his trembling form. He yelped. She almost smiled.