Beneath the Mask

A Flat in Bath?

True to her thoughts, she doesn't see Malfoy for a long time.

He's not in class for days. Not in the Great Hall or the library. Nothing. The bond is the only reason why she hasn't burned the castle down, looking for him. If the bond went dead, she'd be tearing the stones out with the claws of that terrifying dragon she dreamt of to find him. But all she has to do is take a peek, and she sees the storm. She then leaves him be without getting any closer out of respect for him, effectively making him an unknown ghost to her.

How is he doing? Is he hurting himself? Is he in pain? Has something made him happy, even for just a moment? She wants to know these things. She wants to know him.

Malfoy's been alone in the dark for so much longer than she has.

Detention is easy enough. She and Headmistress McGonagall spend it drinking tea, eating snacks, chatting, and playing a very long, very intense game of wizard's chess. Hermione's always been terrible at the game, but playing with the Headmistress is so fun that she actually takes it seriously for once. The bloody old crone—who she adores so much—puts her in check at least three times a day.

Fortunately, that bitch Trelawney doesn't seem to have exposed their bond to anyone. Hermione thinks if she had, the Headmistress would have spoken to her about it. There'd be Howlers or letters or explosions in the sky. But there's nothing.

So, while it bothers Hermione that she hasn't seen Malfoy, she's glad the bitch didn't tell. The injustice of the things she implied is something she simply won't tolerate.

Hermione can't stop herself from glaring at her whenever she sees her, though.

After a week-and-a half of no Malfoy in the halls or classes, Hermione goes to Professor Weasley and asks him if he's heard anything. And while Bill eyes her strangely, he tells her that, "Mr. Malfoy appears to be out sick. He's gotten a nasty case of Dragon Pox. So he was sent to confine himself in his room."

That puts Hermione in a mental tailspin, of course. Dragon Pox is serious business. It could kill him.

But then Bill tells her that he doesn't actually have Pox, and that the House Elves told him so, so Hermione calms down after that.

Hermione hates how well she can mask her emotions. She'd stood in front of Bill having an entire mental breakdown in her head, imagining all the horrible scenarios where Malfoy died from Dragon Pox, and he'd had no idea. Her ability to mask is so intense, even, that absolutely nobody notices anything different about her. Not even Pansy, with her hawklike gaze.

She thinks.

She's so tired. Just so exhausted emotionally that it feels like Malfoy pulled her heart out and twisted it to wring everything out before shoving it back inside of her chest. The moment she gets to her dorm every night, her facial expression falls flat, muscles aching from all the different ways she had to arrange them to ensure she looked like everyone else's idea of normal. She does her homework, gets into bed, and lies there breathing and crying and doing nothing else. She doesn't stab her quill into her leg anymore because she promised herself she wouldn't, so she lets it all out in her tears.

Is Hermione the one that's the problem? Is she the one who's selfish, cold, and cruel? She felt so emotionally exhausted after their argument that she'd spent several nights crying herself to sleep in complete silence. Should she be forcing her way into his dorm? Is she a bad person for letting him wallow like this?

But then how is she supposed to take care of herself, too?

And that's why she cries every night. She has shame of her own that weighs heavily upon her. She endures it every day, a small reminder hovering at the back of her heart, and she still hasn't quite figured out how to defeat it. She hopes she can help Draco figure out how to beat his.