Your Grief is My Grief [DM] sequel to Beauty and the Beast

Chapter Thirteen

Lizzie's POV:

I was walking to The Great Hall for lunch when I ran into Hermione for the first time this year. Quite literally ran into her.

I turned the corner by the library, running the various homework assignments I already had when a body hit mine, causing me to land on my bum. I dropped my Potions and Alchemy books, parchment sliding across the floor to the scuffed shoes of she-who-had-knocked-me-down.

"Oh, Merlin! I am so sorry!" she said shrilly, bending down and picking up the parchment by her feet.

"It's alright," I huffed. My day was gradually getting worse and worse. I had almost slept through breakfast, only having time to grab an apple from the table before I sprinted my way to my first class. Then in Alchemy, Professor Sweeney had assigned a two foot essay about the transmutation of gold into silver due the next day.

"Here," she offered an outstretched hand, "let me help you up." Hesitantly, I accepted her hand and stood up with my books back in my arms. "Oh, Lizzie. I didn't know it was you."

"Yep, it's me," I muttered, finding this particular conversation quite awkward. Hermione and I hadn't spoken to each other since the end of fifth year - before I had a tattoo burned into my skin tying me to the dark wizard who wanted her best friend dead. I wonder how that conversation would go? "Well I'll erm... I'll see you around," I murmured, trying to get out of that particular conversation.

"No, wait. Let me walk with you for a little bit. I want to catch up with you. I feel bad that we haven't spoken in so long. Where are you heading?" Her bushy hair was pulled back into a ponytail behind her head, but a few curly strands had fallen out and occasionally fell into her face. She would blow them away without a second thought.

"I was actually heading to lunch," I gritted, not wanting to talk to Harry or any of his friends due to the guilt that has been haunting me for ages.

"Oh, well I'll walk with you there. Tell me how you're life's been since we last spoke." She grinned at me and nodded her head towards the path to the Great Hall. We walked slowly together in time.

"It's sure been something," I said through clenched teeth.

"Alright, I can tell that you don't want to talk to me." She stopped me with a hand on my arm. No shit, Sherlock. "Did I do something? Was it because I made no attempt to talk to you these last few months."

"No, it's nothing you did. It's me," I sighed.

"You can talk to me, Liz. Nothing you say to me will be shared with anyone." She reached a hand up to her face and tucked the stray curls of hair behind her ear.

"It's not something I want to talk about, and even if I did, it wouldn't just be me taking the fall," I sputtered. Oh no. I should not have said that. My face heated up greatly and I clenched my teeth in self-punishment.

"Is it Draco?" Hermione whispered.

"I can't say," I grumbled. I cannot believe that I had actually said that there is another person involved with what I was doing.

"I understand," she sighed with a sad smile. "But I want you to know that I will always be here for you. If you ever need to talk, just find me. I'll most likely be in the library from here to the end of the year. Gotta prepare for my exams."

"Alright," I replied.

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"Hey, Liz." Draco approached me in the common room later in the night that Hermione had spoken to me. I was reading a muggle book by Harper Lee called To Kill a Mockingbird.