𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 | Dramione

Chapter 14

January 21 2000

he didn't have to say
much that night

i could tell by the look
in his eyes

those eyes that once were
so scornful
now entranced by my sight

they no longer had desire
to push me away.

~

Two full weeks had passed since the front page of the Daily Prophet and the announcement of the school's lockdown.

Hermione would check the paper religiously, anxiously awaiting for the good news, to no avail. Some daily updates would appear at the bottom of the newspaper, stating that Dolohov was still in hiding. Certain sources would release sensitive information to Skeeter, which were "off the record." Despite this, Rita Skeeter published the articles about his possible whereabouts. This was the only time Hermione actually appreciated Skeeter's efforts.

From Romania to England, Hermione would read and track Dolohov on her own map. Pinpointing his last seen locations, she'd created a board on the wall of her room. Red dots lined several countries through the West, leading closer to Scotland— to Hogwarts.

Hermione spent this time concocting ideas in her head, imagining the possible attacks and outcomes— all ending in Harry's plausible death. She tried to keep the thought at bay but Hermione was unable to loosen the ever-growing knot in her stomach as Dolohov approached the Apparition Lines near the Highlands of Scotland. If he could find a way to get past the mountains, Hermione knew he'd be able to infiltrate the school.

That possibility was slim, she'd tried to remind herself. She remembered McGonagall's trusting words and Harry's blatant disdain for her own.

Dementors were trained to attack any Death Eater who came near the school. And with the lockdown in place, it was only a matter time before they'd hear of Dolohov's death in the paper. Not to mention even if he'd be able to cast a powerful enough patronus to ward them off for a while, he wouldn't have enough time to get into the castle before he'd set off the wards, informing McGonagall of his presence.

Hermione focused on that last thought.

She'd seen the last few weeks fly by and the state of her room showed she had barely slept, eaten, or thought about anything else. Empty cups of tea were scattered everywhere, textbooks upon textbooks piled up on the floor, clothes were thrown in a heap on her dresser— she'd completely forgotten to take care of herself.

She could have cleaned it up with the flick of her wand, but her powers were weak and so was she. Physically, she looked like she hadn't slept in days, possibly weeks. The nightmares grew increasingly darker, as several nights would pass where she would plan out possible strategies and plans.

Hermione could no longer afford to waste her magic on small, inconvenient things. With the poison spreading every day, her powers were dampened every time she used them.So she set her mind to the depressing room in front of her, and started to clear it out.

After what felt like hours, Hermione joined her friends in the Gryffindor Common Room for a change in scenery.

When she returned, she found Draco in her room, his back turned to her, looking at the wall over her bed.

Memories came flooding back and she remembered the last thing she'd said to him.

Consider your kindness repaid because I won't bother you again. She'd meant it. Hermione hadn't spoken to him in weeks. But now he was there standing in her room, bothering her.