The End's Intent

Chapter 2

That night, Draco spent longer than usual unpacking his trunk. He and Hermione had been assigned their own dormitory and he knew she'd be sitting downstairs either studying or overthinking, but he couldn't bring himself to leave his room. Eventually, he knew he had to quit stalling and found himself walking downstairs to their common room.

Just like he'd thought, she was sitting on a sofa staring into the fire place. There were no flames, but it seemed to captivate her just the same. He took a moment to admire her from the top of the stairs and smiled at how relaxed she was compared to how she'd been during dinner that evening.

"Tired?" he asked. She jumped at his voice and twisted around to face him. She nodded and when he sat beside her on the sofa, she turned and put her legs on his lap.

"I don't think tired is really the word for it anymore," she answered. Draco felt his heart clench at the words but he didn't say anything. Instead, he watched her face as she closed her eyes and laid her head back on the sofa pillow. "How was your summer?"

"Dreadful," Draco murmured. His hand found her ankle and her eyes opened. She didn't lift her head from the cushion, but she turned so she could look at him easier. "The Dark Lord took up residence at the Manor," he told her softly. His hand left her ankle to subconsciously run over his left arm and Hermione's eyes tracked the motion.

"Draco..." she trailed off and Draco looked up to meet her eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, she reached forward and took his left arm in her hand. Draco flinched at her touch and attempted to pull away, but her grip on his arm only tightened. In one smooth motion, she pushed back the sleeve of his robes and inhaled sharply.

The mark on his forearm seemed even more prominent with Hermione staring at it and Draco wished more than ever he could cover it up. Before Draco could try pulling his arm out of her grasp again, Hermione's fingers were gently tracing over the mark and he held his breath.

"Did you want it?" she whispered, still staring down at the skull and snake. Draco shook his head fiercely.

"No," he said bitterly. He pulled his arm away from her and covered the mark back up with his sleeves. "No," he explained, "My father failed a mission and the Dark Lord became suspicious of our family. He threatened to hurt my mother. I had to do something to restore his trust in us before he did."

Hermione's eyes were glistening, but she kept from crying as she looked at him. Draco ran a hand through his hair and took a shaky breath, chuckling to himself as he remembered the night he'd announced his intentions to take the dark mark. His mother had cried and he'd spent the night reassuring her it would be okay. How could he have known he'd be expected to kill the day he'd received the mark? How was he supposed to know absolutely nothing would be okay after that?

"When did you take the mark?" Hermione asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.

"A week or two after I returned to the Manor," he answered. Hermione nodded and the room fell silent.

"I'm proud of you," Hermione whispered. Draco looked at her, confused and ready to argue that she shouldn't be, but she shook her head before he could form a coherent sentence. "You saved your mother even though you knew the consequences. That took strength, Draco, and I'm proud of you."

How he'd gotten lucky enough to have Hermione as a friend, Draco didn't know. Even Blaise had at first argued with him about it and not fully understood his reasons for accepting the mark. It hadn't been until after Draco's first mission where he'd seen a muggle family tortured and killed that Blaise stopped being upset with him.

"Blaise is the only other person I've told and he didn't react half as well as you," he told her with a small smile. Hermione gave him a weak smile in return and shifted on the couch so she was sitting right beside him.

"Blaise can also be a little thick headed sometimes," Hermione reminded him. He nodded in agreement.

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder and covered his arm with her hand. He tensed, but didn't pull away as she gently traced meaningless patterns over his mark through his shirt sleeve.

"Most people would be running from me right now," Draco said, staring down at where she was touching his arm. "They wouldn't be drawing over the mark so calmly."

Hermione hummed but didn't lift her head.

"The same people chose to ignore the signs and let Voldemort get this far along," Hermione replied. She tilted her head so she could smile at him before pulling away. "Besides, you're not all that terrifying now that I've seen you cry after reading Shakespeare."

Draco scowled at her for the reminder and she laughed, effectively chasing away the somber mood. He could clearly remember reading through her entire collection of Shakespeare's tragedies during fifth year and having her stumble upon him crying by the Black Lake. It had been both terribly embarrassing and amusing as she'd teared up as well while they talked about some of the plays.

"If I recall correctly, you cried after killing a grindylow for potions," Draco reminded her. Hermione glared at him.

"They are living creatures!" she exclaimed, turning so she was facing him. "They shouldn't have to die just for a potion. Wizards should have different potions that don't require you to kill innocent creatures. Just because something isn't a wizard doesn't mean its life doesn't matter."

Draco laughed as she argued her point even further.

"Hermione, I know," he said, cutting her off when her face started to get a little red. "I'm not arguing with you."

She huffed.

"You sound like it sometimes," she replied. Draco laughed again and Hermione's glare hardened. "Don't laugh at me."

"I'm sorry," Draco said, calming himself down and smiling at her. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I would never intentionally laugh at you or your beliefs."

She stared at him for a long second before nodding to herself. She untangled herself from the couch and stood up, making Draco frown.

"Where are you going?" he asked, grabbing her hand before she could leave. "I'm sorry for laughing at you, Hermione. Really."

"I'm not leaving because you laughed at me, Draco," she said with a smile. She squeezed his hand and glanced towards her bedroom upstairs. "We have an early morning tomorrow and I'm tired, so I'm going to bed. I'm not upset with you."

"Alright," Draco replied, letting go of her hand. "Sleep well."

Hermione just smiled before moving around the sofa and disappearing upstairs. Draco stayed in the common room for only a few more minutes before going up to his own room as well. After getting changed for bed and taking a Dreamless Sleep potion, he slipped into his bed and hoped that the first day of classes would go alright.