The Fine Line Between Love and Hate | Dramione AU by Short-circuit-Soulmate

Chapter 21

...in which all hope is lost.

The corridors of Hogwarts were usually silent and peaceful during breakfast time. The only sound that could ever be heard was the occasional low hum of the portraits conversing with each other, or perhaps an echo from within the walls.

As Blaise raced along, his feet hitting the ground, the loud cracks of his hastened footsteps on the stone floor and the sound of his sharp breaths broke through the peace and tranquillity that could normally be found on this morning hour. All he knew was that he had to find Hermione.

He had been so certain that Draco would man up when the school found out. Almost positive of it. Or maybe, deep down, he had been positive it would never happen, and that's why it was better to get it over with now. It seemed that the latter was exactly what had happened.

Blaise wasn't sure what he had expected of his friend. But he at least thought he would show his face. He hadn't though. Somewhere on the way to the Great hall, while Blaise was distracted by the whispers of passing students, Draco had slipped off somewhere and left Hermione to face the judgement and hate-filled comments on her own.

He'd most likely gone back to the dorms, probably cursing Nott the whole way; perhaps cursing himself. Draco wasn't trying to lie to himself; he had never assured Blaise that he would be there for Hermione if things came to this. He had only said he cared enough to forget about her blood; not that he cared enough to forget that others cared about her blood.

Sometimes Blaise was so angry at his friend for being like he was. Only Draco would deny for years the obvious attraction he had to Granger, and even when the truth came out, only then would he deny them both happiness by refusing to let go his prejudices.

But still, it was stupid to blame Draco for all of this. At the end of the day, it wasn't his fault he was born into a strict pure-blooded family who forbade him from seeing anyone whose blood was not as pure. Perhaps if Draco had been born into a family like Blaise's, where parental influence was scarce; maybe then he would be a better person.

Blaise shook those useless thoughts from his head and he raced along the empty corridors. There was no point in thinking about that now. The past couldn't be changed so easily. Draco was who he was. He had the strength to change his views, now he just had to have the strength to fight for them. Strength he clearly didn't have; not yet.

As Blaise's steps slowed to a quick walk, he peeked down adjacent corridors hoping to spot a head of curly hair. He couldn't see her. Where had she gone?

He found himself wandering toward the girl's bathroom, somewhere he had found Hermione hiding once before. It was somewhere she might've run to, especially if she were crying. No one ever went into Myrtles bathroom. The ghost had a tendency to become emotional at even the slightest comment.

As he neared the bathroom, he could hear a loud sobbing coming from it. It wasn't Myrtle, however. Hermione must have run to the first place she knew would give her some peace and isolation from the judgmental stares and glares.

As Blaise pushed open the door to the flooded bathroom, the sobbing stopped abruptly, and he heard one of the stall doors being pushed shut in a hastened attempt to hide from the world.

"You don't want to come in here," a high-pitched voice sang from above him, looking far too pleased about the situation, "she's crying louder than me!"

Blaise ignored Myrtle as he stepped forward, standing in front of the closed stall he knew Hermione was hiding in.

"Hermione," he called, his voice soft, "please come out."