All You Want

22)Tell Me What's Inside of Your Head

When the hallway was empty, Hermione let herself look over at Draco. She was so awash in emotion she could barely breathe. Hot with rage and cold with horror.

She couldn't believe how oblivious she'd been. How many things she'd taken for granted or simply failed to question. The empty classrooms he always seemed to be studying in. How he knew of more hiding spots in the castle than she had thought could possibly exist. How tense and slightly terrified he'd looked when she asked to speak with him and locked the door of the classroom.

She'd assumed it had been because of the pheromones, but maybe—

She didn't even want to think about it.

He'd been being bullied the whole semester and she hadn't noticed. Instead she'd been resentful that he didn't spend all his time staring at her, just assuming that he couldn't possibly have anything more urgent than herself to preoccupy him.

She stuffed all the wands into her pocket and reached toward him.

"Draco—I'm so sorry. I had no idea. And they hurt you—," her voice broke off as she touched his cheek. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe—"

She caught hold of his robes. "I should have realized."

His arms wrapped around her shoulders and he pulled her against himself.

"It's fine, Granger." She felt him rest his head on top of hers.

"It's not," she said in a thick voice, pulling away. "Let me see. What happened to you? I have murtlap essence—no, it's in the library. Draco, I'm so—sorry. What can I do? What can I do to fix this? What do you want me to do?"

Her throat felt constricted, and she kept tracing her fingers along his face where it was bruised. Now that she was closer, she realized his face was scraped too. As she studied it, she realized the bruising wasn't from being punched. He'd been thrown against a wall or maybe onto the floor and then had his face ground into the rough-hewn stones of the castle.

"Is your head alright? We should get you a potion. And your shoulder is hurt too. What do I do?"

"It's just a scratch, Granger," Draco said, pulling his face away from her touch. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm not just talking about your face. What would they have done once they realized they couldn't provoke you?" Her voice was shaking faintly. 

He avoided her eyes.

Hermione's jaw tightened. She clenched her hand into a hard fist. "H-how many times has this happened?"

He wouldn't answer that question either.

Hermione exhaled a sharp breath through her nose. "I should have realized—I should have thought—I'm so sorry I didn't. I'll go get my murtlap essence for you and then—I'll—I'll—I'm going to fix all of this."

She turned to go, making a rapid mental list of everything she needed to do. Her cheekbones were aching, and it felt as though there were a bottomless pit set somewhere inside her stomach.

She wasn't going to cry. She was so bloody tired of crying over every damn thing.

"Granger, don't." Draco caught her around the waist and pulled her back.

"No! Let me go. I need to fix this," she said, trying to pull his hands off of her.

She kept trying to break free until he slid a hand up her chest and pressed against the base of her throat, grazing her scent glands with his fingers. Hermione stilled and collapsed slightly against him, bursting into tears.