Everything Changes (A Dramione fanfic)

Chapter Four

Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room with Harry and Ron. Her book was open infront of her, but she wasn't reading. It was a very strange feeling, not being able to concentrate on the one thing that she was almost always concentrated on. She just kept thinking about potions. She was becoming more and more like Harry, she realized, thinking of Malfoy's intentions and every word obsessively. Malfoy had been his ususal self, calling her a mudblood and being a git. It didn't bother her...it couldn't bother her now. Not after all the years she spent not caring before. No, what bothered her was what followed his cruel words. He looked as though his anger had been replaced with something that resembled confusion, then fear, and then back to anger. However, the anger didn't seem directed towards her or even her friends for once. She thought about how he had been somewhat polite at Diagon Alley, mumbling his thank yous. Then on the train when he made her laugh...now he was being tottaly differant. Yet the same....he was being the usual Draco Malfoy everyone knew...or at least the Draco Malfoy everyone expected. Hermione shook her head, it didn't matter. Malfoy was Malfoy. He would always be Malfoy and she shouldn't expect anything else. There was a part of Hermione that wanted to believe that Draco was changing, that he was realizing what his words meant, that he wanted to be different. She really wanted Harry to be wrong. Why would she want these things? Why should she care if Draco was changing or not? It wasn't like she wanted his friendship, or would even care if there were to be an apology, Hermione told herself. Then again, why would there be an apology? It was Malfoy.  Hermione stared into the crackling fire, feeling it's warmth. She closed her eyes for a moment. Maybe Hermione just wanted to believe that people like Draco Malfoy could change, because if he could, didn't that mean that others with the same beliefs could too? "Hey Hermione have you ever heard of this spell?" asked Harry, interrupting Hermione's thoughts. She glanced at what he was pointing at. Bloody potions book. "No, Harry, I haven't!" she snapped at him. She had already argued with Harry for quite a while about this book he was taking instructions from. "Oh don't get your wand in a knot, I was only asking." Harry replied. "She's only mad because you've actually done better than her in a class for once." said Ron, tossing a Bertie Bot in his mouth. "I am not!" insisted Hermione. "Oh of course she isn't," said Harry in  a serious tone. "She's actually just upset because she's realized she was wrong about Malfoy." he added with a smug look. "I'm not wrong! Malfoy isn't a death eater!" she argued. "Merlin's Beard, Hermione! You continue to defend him just hours after he insults you!" exclaimed Harry. "I'm not defending him, Harry," she sighed. "Look, we all know Malfoy's a foul git. I thought we established this in first year. I'm just trying to be sensible. Why would Voldemort make a sixteen year old a death eater? What could Malfoy possibly do to benefit Voldemort?" she asked. Harry sighed, exhausted. "I don't know yet Hermione, but think about this. Almost all of the Death Eaters are Wanted, and there's no way they could get inside the castle. Maybe Malfoy was the only option Voldemort had left, his only way into Hogwarts." Hermione knew Harry made a good point, but she didn't want to believe that any Death Eater could make it to the castle, let alone believe that Malfoy was one of them

...

Again. Draco tried the spell once more. He stood infront of the vanishing cabinet. This needed to work. Draco couldn't focus. He kept hearing his own words, echoing in his mind. "Stupid, useless, mudbloods." It was ridiculous. He recalled saying things like this all of his life, what point was there in worrying about it now? He heard himself again, then his fathers over it. The same words, the same harsh tone. He wondered if someone had poisned his fathers mind at a young age, or if Lucius was simply blood proud on his own. Draco didn't want to be his father, He didn't want to serve Voldemort, and be a Death Eater. It was to late for that, but still  He didn't want to realize his mistakes when it was to late, and live in fear all his life the way his father did. He imagined being married one day, having a son of his own. What would he teach him? What would he want his son to see when he looked up at his father?  Draco didn't want to be his father, but that is who he was growing up to be. Again Draco felt as though he had been struck with a bludger to his stomach. Memories washed over him, drowning him in guilt. Over and over again, seeing the girl with brown eyes and bushy hair. "Filthy little mudblood" Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood. Each and every time he said it, she showed less emotion. She got stronger. Draco wanted to scream. Of all the people he hurt, she was the one he regretted most. Even though he didn't understand why it was Hermione he felt the worst about, he wanted to do something, but it would do nothing but possibly put her in danger. A death eater, being friendly with a muggle-born. He would get them all killed. Draco sank to the floor, wishing for a life, any life, other than his own. 

Okay! That's chapter four. I hope everyone is enjoying this, please leave a comment with your thoughts. Thanks for reading!-jazzyjstar*