Her Sweet, Decadent Smile

☘ Chapter 11 ☘

"I know these things. I'm always right. It's got nothing to do with logic: I just feel it. For example, when I get really close to you like this, I'm not the least bit scared.

Nothing dark or evil could ever tempt me."

.

Dennis had been rushed to the hospital. His condition had consistently been worsening. When Hermione came to visit him at St. Mungo's, she found him lying on the hospital bed, looking tired and restless. Beside his bed, she found a bunch of kids on the floor busy making get well soon cards.

She decided to stay for the whole day and forget about going to work. Madam Dumass wouldn't mind, she knew. Dumass had known Dennis as an intern in the DMDR and held high respects for the boy.

To get a job in the Department of Magical Research and Development, you had to be rather clever. It was arequirement. Even the position of an intern was coveted and extremely difficult to land. Dennis had made it in so easily, a tribute to his brilliant mind. He had wanted to be an Unexhibitable, just like her.

Since the last time she had seen him, nothing had changed in his physical appearance. He was still as thin and as pale, but somehow he seemed weaker. It may not have been physically visible, but she could tell by observing the way he moved or the way he talked. The energy was being drained out of him.

And he was desperately trying to hide it from her.

"Alright, go on, what's going on between you and Mr. Draco?" he asked all of a sudden.

She shifted uncomfortably and looked anywhere but his eyes. "What's there to tell? It's not really all that interesting."

She tried to change the topic of their conversation, but Dennis was persistent. He bribed her into telling him, using his cute little puppy eyes that made her heart melt. He even pouted.

So eventually, she told him everything.

He patiently listened the entire time she ranted, blabbered, and shouted: about Draco and how she had fallen madly in love with him. She told him about all the people he had murdered. She told him all the conflicting emotions she was feeling about herself, things she couldn't interpret or make sense of.

"I understand what you're going though," he said.

"What should I do?" she asked, sighing. "It really is complicated to love a psychopath."

He scratched the back of his head, thinking.

"I agree with Luna Lovegood on this one," he said, suddenly. "You should fix him."

"And let him get away with all the crimes he committed?" she exclaimed incredulously. "Just let him get away?"

"Not really," he pursed his lips.

"What are you saying?"

"Well… to be unloved for almost your entire life… isn't that punishment enough?"

She stopped, feeling her breath hitch. It really was horrible, wasn't it? Love was a huge part of life. To live without it… she couldn't even begin to imagine.

"That still doesn't excuse the fact that he's killed people."

"Because he was brainwashed into thinking it was right," he said as a matter of fact. "It was forced into his brain, despite his constant struggle to avoid it. You shouldn't be so unforgiving. I mean, he suffered in the hands of the Dark Lord and he still knows how to feel and love? Sounds pretty noble, if you ask me."