wrong ||| dramione

Year Four || Coming Back

Term was supposed to start on the 4th of January. Hermione had been nervous all the day before and especially during the train ride.

Sometimes she felt so anxious she wanted to cry. And yet if someone asked her what the matter was, she wouldn't really know what to say.

For the first time in four years, she didn't know where her loyalties lay and who were her friends. She managed to climb up the stairs to the Gryffindor rooms without meeting Harry or Ron - and once she was there she locked herself in the dormitory, breathing a little hurriedly. Deep inside, she didn't even want to go to dinner that night - but she had eaten most of the sandwiches her mother had made her on her way to Hogwarts in an attempt to calm down her nerves with food.

And besides, a voice spoke in her head. I can't stay up here forever. Tomorrow there are going to be classes. And I'll have to see...

Them, she wanted the voice to say but instead it said "him".

Tomorrow was Potions.

Hermione dug her fingers into her neck, remembering what it was like to be next to Draco. She had tried to push him out of her head, but she still hoped without hope that it had not all been a drunken vulnerability and a crazy crush that he would not act anymore upon.

And then, blushing furiously, she started getting ready for dinner.

***

The world was just as full of clamour and light, but she no longer felt part of it - and as she entered the Great Hall and walked hurriedly over to an empty seat, she cast down her eyes, determined not to see anyone.

- Hermione? - came Ginny's voice suddenly and Hermione sat up, anxiously trying to sound normal:

- Hi, Ginny! How were your holidays?

- Good... I was just going..

- Yes? Yes, what were you going to do?

Ginny looked ashamed for a second and then she said in a low voice:

- I reserved this spot for someone, if you don't mind.

It took a while for these words to sink in, but they finally did. Feeling just as unwanted as she had during her first day of school in the Muggle world, Hermione got up, and, with an apologetic smile, she walked along the table, desperate for a new spot.

She saw the Weasley twins and her mind immediately ran to them - but they were so deep in conversation with one of the Beauxbatons girls that her heart sank again. She knew she only had to talk to someone, that someone would want her here - but she was too shy and heartbroken to try.

She might have not eaten that day at all, had Luna not dragged her to the Ravenclaw table under the pretext of wanting to tell her about her holidays.

Hermione sat down heavily next to Luna, wishing she could feel just a little more thankful someone still wanted to talk to her.

Dinner went on - Hermione could barely eat, but she managed to keep some soup and meat down her throat. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible - but with Luna, it was practically impossible. Most of the students had already left when Hermione finally rose, said goodbye to Luna and walked down the quietening hall until a hand hit her on the back and she nearly shouted out loud.

She spun around on the spot and saw Harry looking at her, aghast. And Weasley was here too.

- Hermione, what he hell was that all about?

- Yeah, we saved you a spot!  - Ron exclaimed, indignant. 

- That is very nice of you, - she retorted, but Ron went on:

- What's the matter with you? You didn't even tell us you went away for the holidays!

- We were worried, - Harry said quietly.

- Oh, you were worried, - Hermione laughed, feeling close to tears. - Look at you. I'm touched.

- For Merlin's sake, Hermione, why are you behaving like a lunatic! - Ron cried, pushing Harry aside. - We had a little drunken fight the night of the ball, but now you're exaggerating everything and jeopardising our entire friendship! Don't you care for us at all?

Hermione stood there for a second, then she said very calmly:

- A little drunken fight. Yes. Well. If there is nothing more you want to say to me, Weaselbee, I shall be on my way. Bye Harry. See you in class.

And with that she stormed out of the Great Hall, oblivious to the shock on the boys' faces.

- She called me Weaselbee!  - Ron gasped in a high girlish voice.

- You deserved it, - Harry muttered, secretly glad Hermione wasn't as mad at him as she was at Ron.

- No, you don't understand. Only one person here calls me Weaselbee...

Instinctively, Harry looked in the direction of the Slytherin table, wondering if they'd heard.

But Malfoy wasn't even looking in their direction. His eyes were locked on the Great Hall doors - and as Hermione disappeared through them, he suddenly turned around and looked straight at Harry - and as Harry looked away, a small smile spread out over Draco's face, only to be blotted out by the same blank expression he'd had before - he sighed and dropped his head in his hands, the voices in his head picking up once more:

So yes they fought today. But they fight all the time... And she always comes running back. And you don't have the nerve to stop her and make her run to you... and not to them.

Draco shook his head and bit his lip, as the images rushed through his head, he'd run after her, he'd ask her where she'd been, he'd say he wasn't just drunk that night, that they would find a way, that he wanted her to be with him now and not with them.

He looked up at the enchanted ceiling and as the world came into focus once again, he knew that tomorrow, and all the other days, they would not to be able to talk as they had the night of the ball and that he wouldn't dare send an owl when he wasn't sure whether she had got over what had happened or not.

In spite of what happened after the ball, he knew things would not change and they would probably go back to living their lives... and she would do perfectly okay without him, even if right now she didn't feel that way. Harry and Ron would make it up to her - and she'd forget about him... their talk, the kiss, the small cry she'd uttered, and the pink splashes of a blush on her face and neck, how she'd tried to stop him, what he'd yelled at her and how he ran away... all of these things, all of it would be an incredible story, but nothing more, unless the world made an exception to its nasty rules.

For the first time in his life, Draco needed a miracle. 

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