“I’m sorry, Hermione, I really am. But with all that’s going on with… everything, I think it would just be best if we didn’t have anymore of these lessons. If we just stop all together and go back to the way things were before. I promise I won’t slack off in school. I just can’t do this anymore,” Draco had turned away.
“You don’t believe that at all! Even you can’t handle your own lie. What is happening in your life that you can’t handle being around a Gryffindor anymore again?” She stood up and strode over to his hunched form. “What?!”
He shook his head, unable to form words properly. Hermione reached over to comfort him, but he jerked away. After several deep breaths he tried to speak again, but stopped.
Getting angry, Hermione swung him around to face her. “What is wrong with you?”
The next words Draco spoke, even though she was standing right next to him, were barely audible. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He looked up, gray meeting chocolate brown. “I can’t hurt you.”
Hermione stepped away from him, her face scrunched up in concentration, trying to understand the words that had come out of Draco’s mouth. Then she smiled.
“Draco, I don’t really think you can hurt me anymore. I’ve sort of grown immune to your jibes.”
Malfoy suddenly got up, the anger in him boiling over. “Goddamn it, Hermione! I don’t mean emotionally!”
Hermione backed away, frightened by the look of fury on Draco’s face. His screams echoed around the room as Hermione stared in shock. Draco, breathing fast, backed up and collapsed back into the chair. There was silence. Draco was now curled back into the chair, his face hidden.
Slowly, Hermione edged back towards Draco’s chair. As she reached out to touch his shoulder, to attempt to comfort him, he sat up straight.
“No matter how hard I try to forget it, I am a Malfoy. With that title comes frightening tasks. I’ve been blind for too long to back out of this now. I’m too far in. But I don’t want you tangled up in this as well.
“So can we forget that all this happened and go back to the way things were? It was so much less difficult when you hated me with a fiery passion. It will make my job much easier. Please, just forget about all this.” Draco continued on like this for several minutes.
Hermione stared at his back for a long time, digesting the words that poured out of his mouth. She processed them, understanding each individual word, but never putting the meaning together. His first words had pierced her soul and rendered her incapable of absorbing more. With a deep breath, Hermione left the room. Though she closed the door quietly behind herself, the small sound echoed weirdly through the room, reverberating in the depths of Draco’s heart.
But Hermione hadn’t left. She was leaning on the other side of the door, breathing deeply. Though every part of her felt like crying, her eyes refused to tear. Steadying herself with the doorframe, she thought about what just happened.
What did he mean, make his job easier? What would hating him do? And then it clicked. Draco had gone over.
Hermione fought off the urge to yell and instead started running back toward Gryffindor Tower. When she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she realized that she no longer slept here. Breathing heavily, she started walking in the direction of her actual dormitory, where hopefully one of her friends would be soundly sleeping.
*************
But Ron wasn’t sleeping soundly at all. He wasn’t even in his ever-so-inviting bed. He had awoken in the middle of the night, freezing cold even with his blankets on. Something had told him that Hermione was missing. He had ventured over to her room, and, without touched the door, listened for the sound of her gentle breathing. He couldn’t hear it at all, even with his pair of Extendable Ears.
Ron sat in their Common Room, worrying, for almost half an hour. Finally, he had opened Hermione’s door a crack to find her bed empty and her lamp extinguished. He slowly walked back into the Common Room, thinking to himself, She’s probably gone out for a midnight stroll. Wait, that’s not like Hermione at all. Maybe she had a stroke of inspiration and had to run to the library? Yes, that would be it. She’ll be back soon then.
When Hermione reentered the Common room, she saw Ron sitting on one of the couches with his back to the door, twisting his hands in his lap. When he heard the door open, he quickly turned around. He looked tired and worried at the same time. Hermione had never seen this look on Ron, and it thoroughly frightened her.
“Where have you been?” Ron asked while standing up and striding toward her. His voice was a little higher than usual.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to patrol the corridors a little. Did I wake you up?” Hermione said and she walked Ron back to the couch and sat down.
“No, you didn’t.” He tried to think of a story on the spot. “I realized I hadn’t done my Potions essay and I was going to ask you for help, but you weren’t there. So I got worried.” He smiled weakly.
“It’s okay, Ron. That essay isn’t due for another week. Let’s just go get some sleep.” Hermione got up and headed in the direction of her room.
Ron grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down to sit on the couch. “Look Hermione, I have to talk to you about something.” Hermione looked at him quizzically. “About your lessons with Malfoy.”
Ron, who was expecting something along the lines of “I can take care of myself, thanks!” was thoroughly disappointed. Hermione didn’t say anything. Her expression, which had been very casual during their conversation, changed and she looked away. She knew what Ron was going to say. And this time, it would sound very logical.
Ron, who had noticed nothing, continued on his with his speech. “I realize that you’re only tutoring him because McGonagall asked you, and I know you can’t turn down a teacher, but hanging around with Malfoy won’t do you any good. You seem to be spending more and more time with him. He just going to use you and hurt you!”
Hermione listened to Ron intently. He said everything she thought he would, but he was much quieter about it. She smiled to herself. Maybe Ron was getting more mature.
“Hermione? Are you even listening to me?” Ron was waving his hand in front of her face.
“Yes, I am Ron. I appreciate your concern but…” she was about to say, “I can take care of myself,” but she stopped herself. Draco had gone over and she didn’t know what he was ordered to do. But revealing that to Ron wasn’t a good idea. So she merely said, “Good night, Ronald.”
As the sun’s early rays crept through her window, Hermione was lying in her bed still awake. She hadn’t slept much that night, and the little rest she had gotten was interrupted by dreams of Draco, and Dark Marks, and gorgeous grey eyes that were so full of pain. As she got out of her bed to get dressed, Hermione decided she wasn’t going to give up on Draco. He meant too much to her now. He had been forced to the Dark side and she was determined to bring him back where he rightly belonged. She would talk to him again after Transfiguration.
Teaching the Dark by BittersweetLove
Chapter Notes: I had a stroke of inspiration and wrote this in the middle of the night. Hopefully you'll find it satisfying.