4.1 | Draconian ✓

04 | confundo

0 4

c o n f u n d o

Produces confusion.

DRACO DIDN'T LEAVE her until dinner. Before he left, Hermione made him remove the Muffliato charm so that she could hear the conversation outside. Just hearing his voice calmed her down - the next best option if she couldn't be by his side.

"Oi, Draco."

Theo. Hermione had quickly learnt to identify her three neighbours. Their voices were vaguely familiar – vaguely, but she had been tortured so much she couldn't remember clearly anymore.

"You up for a drink tonight? I'll even introduce you to some of my favourite slags."

"Theo, could you not make it sound as though you run an illegal brothel?" Blaise. Hermione was quick to deduce that he was more or less the father figure in this household, even though from what little she could remember, Blaise was not much older than she was. "And Draco's probably going to wallow in his room, right, mate?"

"Zabini one, Nott zero."

"Alright, I got it. Just don't be too hard up on yourself, mate, you know that girl was dead either way."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Theo – " A girl's voice this time - Pansy.

"What? We're all thinking the same thing. If it wasn't Draco, then it'd be any of us. Probably me – I'd have to drag her down to the cell and use the Cruciatus on – "

"Shut up, Theo." Draco's voice was deadly. A harsh scrape of chair legs against the floor, then Hermione heard his footsteps just beyond the door.

"Are you happy now, Theo?" Pansy sounded exasperated.

"What? What did I say – "

Theo's voice faded out as the door opened. She looked up as Draco stepped back in, a plate of food in one hand. He placed it down on the table and made to move towards her, before he stopped. His silver eyes seemed shuttered under the moonlight that bled through the windows. "Granger, I – "

And then there were simply no words, because how could you excuse yourself when you murdered in cold blood?

Hermione jerked alert at the tone of his voice. She studied his side profile for a moment, soaking in his defined features, the high cheekbones and straight nose, the dim light from outside casting beautiful shadows against his face.

Carefully, Hermione stole closer to him. She held her breath as she shifted up on her knees and reached for him. Not the sleeve of his jumper this time, but his face. She let her palm settle against his skin, felt his warmth beneath her fingertips. She watched as his eyelids fluttered shut and he seemed to lean into her touch involuntarily, letting out a heavy breath as he did.

"You are a good person," she whispered. "I believe that."

Draco's eyes opened and she wanted to cry because they seemed so empty. "I'm not. None of us here are. What Theo said – " he swallowed, the next words seemed so painful to get out. " – that was true; we do use the Cruciatus curse. We use every Unforgivable curse, Granger, and we use it on a daily basis."

Hermione faltered. "What Theo said – about the Cruciatus – "

"Not on you." Draco met her gaze squarely. "Never on you."