In Ruins (Dramione FF)

The Quidditch Trials

08/11/2015

There was nothing more satisfying than waking to the sound of pounding footsteps and excited squeals. The Gryffindor common room would be alive with the brewing excitement for the upcoming trials and Hermione knew that she would have found herself caught up in the clamour with a smile stretched across her lips.

Except she wasn't there.

When Hermione awoke it was to the silence.

It was true that she got her own room and she shouldn't complain about that fact, but she missed the familiarity of living in the North Tower with the other Gryffindor students. She missed waking up and knowing that her best friend and her boyfriend were only a minute walk away. Now she had to walk to the Great Hall alone; now she had to do most everything alone.

A sudden crash was the only reminder Hermione needed to remember that she wasn't truly alone. There were other people here as well, or one other person.

She rose from her bed slowly, dragging at her cloak and drawing it around to cover her pyjamas before she was stepping out into the common room that she shared with Malfoy.

"Are you alright?" she asked nervously, eyes racing around to locate him before they fell on his collapsed figure.

He was sprawled across the couch, one hand thrown over his eyes and her own darted across the sleeve of his robes and down to the slither of black sneaking beneath it. Her stomach turned and she hovered for a moment before slamming the door shut quickly.

Her heart was racing, running, running circles within her body leaving her stomach churning and she found herself clutching at the wall for support, her head bent forwards and her chest heaving. It was easy to forget who Draco was, what he had done when he was just a normal student dressed in robes. But when she saw the sly dance of his serpent, it all came flooding back.

He'd brought Death Eaters here.

He'd helped kill Dumbledore.

And he was here!

They'd let him back after everything.

Her breath caught in her throat and her fingers burned white as her grip tightened. If she'd been stronger then the frame may have creaked but instead she was forced to relinquish her hold as the pain became more intense.

Were they all supposed to just pretend that they didn't know what he had done?

Were they just supposed to forgive him?

Three brisk knocks rapped mere centimetres from her face and Hermione stumbled back as if they were lightening.

"Granger?"

Even the sound of his voice was revolting to her right now.

With a suck of breath for support, she straightened up and fixed her robes. Then she tugged open the door and let her eyes move back to the man before her. Except, he didn't look like a man right then. He looked a mess – probably as bad as she did.

His blonde hair was a mess, strands thrown wild, and his eyes were red and bloodshot and haloed by the black shadows of a dark night. She swallowed again before meeting his eyes firmly.

"Yes?"

"I thought-." He paused. "Evidently I thought wrong."

Hermione nodded sharply. Part of her was tempted to ask. She couldn't help but admit that she was curious, but then she always had been, and seeing Malfoy like this had her thinking, had her wondering, because she'd never seen him studying. She barely ever saw him with a book in his hand so she couldn't come up with an intelligent explanation for his sleepless state.