Chapter 7

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Hermione stumbled backwards, almost dropping Dumbledore's handwritten note in the process. Years of emotions, and grief over his death raining down on her at once. 

She thought of the last time she saw the tall, gray Wizard. He laid spread out, Motionless in the field outside of Hogwarts where he had plummeted to his death. She almost collapsed at the sight of Harry kneeling down beside a lifeless Dumbledore, stroking his long white beard as tears freely fell from Harrys eyes.

The news of Professor Dumbledore's death spread over the wizarding world rapidly, many sharing in the losses personally, as Harry, and Hermione had. A few days later, Elphias Doge wrote the obituary that was heartfelt by the entire Wizarding community. "Albus Dumbledore was never proud or vain; he could find something to value in anyone, however apparently insignificant or wretched, and I believe that his early losses endowed him with great humanity and sympathy. I shall miss his friendship more than I can say, but my loss is as nothing compared to the wizarding world's. That he was the most inspiring and the best loved of all Hogwarts headmasters cannot be in question.

The scheduled day for Albus' funeral came. In the late afternoon before the ceremony, a powder-blue carriage the size of a house, pulled by a dozen giant winged palominos, arrived flying from the sky and landed on the edge of the Forest. Hermione had seen Professor Olympe Maxime from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic leave from the carriage and fall sobbing into the arms of Hagrid. She had sobbed into Harrys shoulder the entire funeral, not able to hold back just how much she cared for the giant wizard.

"Granger." Draco asked. From the expression on her face, the note that  just fell into her hands could not have been good. "What is it?" He asked as he carelessly ripped the parchment from her grasp.  "Careful Malfoy!" She hissed angrily as she watched him read the note.

Draco's jaw almost hit the floor as he read the Professors note. Fear began to eat at him. "How does he know?" He asked the rather upset Hermione, who ignored him to enter the opened chamber doors, which he thought were large enough to accommodate a family of giraffes.

Hermione desperately wiped tears from her face as she examined the room, back turned to Draco so he wouldn't see how upset she was.

Hermione was rather surprised to notice that the inside of the room was actually quite modern, much like your average London apartment. To her right the dining area, it connected to the kitchen that had numerous, shiny, unused pots, and pans hanging above it.

To her left was the bedroom. She became disappointed as she glanced around to notice that there was only one.  From what she could see it looked quite average, Black sheets, and fluffy white pillows covered the king sized mattress, a large dark green nightstand beside it.

The living room directly opposite from the doors they had just entered. A black, leather sofa facing the large flat screen TV. Hermione would have laughed under better circumstances noticing the rule of "no electrical devices on school grounds" didn't extend to teachers.

"It's impossible." Draco stated factly, obviously still dumbfounded over the note he had placed in his pocket.
"How did he know?" He asked again, his tone urgent, as if somehow Hermione would have all the answers.

"He knows things, Malfoy" She answered, walking to the kitchen cabinets, pulling out a tall glass, and filling it with water. "He has always known certain things that are simply unexplainable." She continued. She gulped down her beverage, thirsty from their previous long walk through the Forbidden Forest. "Maybe if you would have spent more time with Dumbledore, instead of plotting against him, you would understand." She spat.

He glared at the redhead, the same spiteful look he had given her throughout the years. "Granger, always in her perfect bubble." He spat, opening the fridge with more force then necessary. He were shocked to find that it were completely stocked full of everything, including liquor. He grabbed his favorite brand of brandy, and poured himself a short glass, taking it all down in one swing.

She watched him through the corner of her eye with curiosity. From the looks of it, drinking was something that Draco must have done quite often.  "My perfect bubble?" She asked. "What Perfection do you see that I have somehow missed?" She asked, infuriated with his audacity. "You made it a point though the years to publicly inform me just how pathetic my life is!" She yelled, her voice echoing through the kitchen.

The Slytherin found himself almost speachless at her sudden, but forceful remarks. Her entire body stiff with rage, she stared at him in anger, a look that spoke for what she wanted to do to him, something he had only seen on death eaters. "I didn't mean your Muggle blood," He spoke distastefully, before he dropped the topic. She had family that loved her, friends that would die for her. It were something that he would never admit, even to himself that he envied.

She rolled her eyes at his ever the annoying comments about her family's blood line. Was he really so insensible to think that had anything to do with how she would "rank" in society. "You are pathetic, Malfoy." She spat. "No wonder you are afraid to see Dumbledore tomorrow! He will see right through you as I do!"

He looked her over, this time it were Draco who held a death glare. His fists bundled so tightly he could easily punch through a wall. Afraid that his anger would get the best of him, he stormed into the bedroom without another word, shutting the door closed roughly behind him.

She let her frustration go in slow, short breaths, cursing herself for even bothering. Why argue with Malfoy? It were not as if it would matter, as if he would have a sudden breakthrough and regret all the bad he has done. She should not pay the ignorant Blonde any attention, instead she should focus entirely on her meeting with Dumbledore tomorrow, and finding a way home. She decided that that was exactly what she would do.

Draco stared up at the plan white ceiling as he laid in bed. It was only after he stormed off in anger that he noticed he had taken the only bedroom, leaving Hermione to sleep on whatever she could find. If she hadn't pushed him over the edge, he might have actually felt guilty as he were raised with a certain type of chivalry, even if It were Granger.
After many thoughts of what tomorrow might bring, Draco let the exhausting day slip away as he welcome the darkness like a old friend.

                               ~~~

Thank you to all of my new story readers! I look forward to your comments and votes! It really motivates me to write faster <3 {Mariska98}

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