Marked

The Supplication

Chapter 34: The Supplication

Hermione knew they were there the moment they arrived on the doorstep. The wards on Nott Manor were particularly sensitive, for one thing, and for another, she knew her best friends.

They may not know her anymore, but she certainly knew them.

"What's the matter?" Draco asked quietly, watching her face change as she looked up from her notes. She had been tracking rumors of Voldemort's latest movements, a rather consuming diversion she now employed to occupy the majority of her spare time.

To absolutely no avail, of course - which was only making her slightly unhinged.

She bit her lip. "Harry and Ron are here," she said tentatively, suffering from a wave of immeasurable dread where she was quite sure she should have felt relief.

"Good," Draco breathed, coming to stand beside her. "I've been wondering how they're doing."

She shifted uneasily at that. It appeared that between the two of them, their respective gut reactions were somewhat contradictory.

"I've been keeping an eye on them," she insisted stiffly, but he tossed her a look of undiminished skepticism.

"Scouring articles of the Daily Prophet for news about Harry doesn't count as keeping an eye on them," he said softly. "You know that."

She frowned.

"I don't know what you expect me to do," she replied sourly, suffering from a particularly painful tremor of remorse. "After everything I did - "

"I don't expect you to do anything," he cut in quickly. Too quickly.

"It's your choice," he added, his expression neutral.

They paused, and she fidgeted.

"But?" she asked, looking pointedly at him, scouring his face for whatever he wasn't saying. "Clearly you have some input."

He shrugged innocently. "Nothing of consequence," he said hazily. "Besides. They're here now."

She was tearing at her lower lip with her teeth. "I wonder why."

Draco shrugged again. "Does it matter?" he asked, lifting a carefully arched brow.

"Of course it matters!" she exclaimed, coming to her feet and beginning to pace through the room. "I haven't heard from them in over a month - I have no idea what they're thinking - "

His grey eyes were wide and incredulous as they followed her around the room. "So?"

"So!" She stomped her foot for emphasis. "So, it means I don't know how they're going to react to me!"

There. She'd said it.

Draco pursed his lips indignantly, which was not the reaction she was looking for.

"Hermione," he started, opening his mouth to argue.

"Don't," she warned, resuming her pacing. "I just - I don't think I can see them, you know - not without knowing - "

She trailed off.

"Knowing what?" he asked, his eyes still boring into her from where he watched her frantic motioning. "If they forgive you?"

Yes.

The thought alone stung.

"There's no way they forgive me," she managed hoarsely, starting to chew on the cuticle of her thumb. "There's no way."