What if... (Harry Potter One Shots)

Dramione - Bittersweet

She stood with the back of her knees pressed against the base of the bed. Her arms were crossed and her eyes closed.

"I didn't think you'd turn up."

Her eyes slid open but made no move to turn. "I hadn't intended to."

"You shouldn't have," she twisted her head at the harsh cold of his voice.

"Oh?" Hermione raised her eyebrows imperiously. "That is entirely different to what you've been telling me since we were twelve."

The stress beneath Draco's eyes showed as he glared at her. "What are you doing here?"

She sat down on the edge of his bed, her back to him as she faced the empty Hospital Wing. "It's getting harder and harder to choose you these days."

Meaning: choosing between you and what I believe in, the thought whispered through her mind.

"Oh, and I suppose you've come to a decision now, have you?" the sneer was evident in his voice but his words were underlined in pain.

"Harry thinks it was you who cursed Katie Bell," her voice was soft and blank of any accusations. "He thinks you're up to something."

"It's always Potter. Wonderful Potter; the boy who can do no wrong," his sneer grew. "Did you come here just to rub in my face how wonderful Potter is, even after he put me here?"

"Would you tell me?" she swivelled to face him, ignoring his jealous questioning. "Would you tell me if you were in too deep?"

His eyes widened, losing their anger, before turning his face away. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Harry said you were crying," there was a hitch in her voice. "He said he found you crying in the bathroom– Draco, why didn't you come to me? I could have helped you. I could have–"

"Could have what, Hermione?" he spun back around, his eyes glimmering with fury, and a tinge of fear in their depths. "Swept in and saved me from the big bad wolf? This isn't something you can fix, Hermione! You can't just wave your wand and everything goes back to how it used to be!"

"Of course not! I know that!" she leaned closer, eyes lit with fervour. "I know I can't change anything, but that doesn't mean I can't try!"

"What good will that do?" his words got louder and louder. "You have no idea what I have to go through, what I have to do, every single day. What good would telling you do?"

"Sometimes just talking to someone helps, Draco," she hissed back.

"Really?" his sneer was back. "So telling you that He lives in our house, that I have to see Him, hear Him every day, will help? Telling you that He'll kill me and my parents if I don't do what He says, will make me feel better, will it? Well there you go. I told you, and guess what? I feel no different!"

He took a shuddering breath.

"So, don't go back," Hermione breathed, leaning closer to him so that their faces were inches apart. "You don't have to stay there. You won't have to do any of this if you choose not to go back. You of all people know what He is capable of; stay with me, and you'll be safe."

He lurched into a seated position, ignoring his fresh wounds and narrowly missing her face with his. "How? You think Potter will suddenly protect me after years of hating me – of putting me in this bed a hundred times over? I can't do that, Hermione – you know I can't! I can't – I won't leave my parents behind while I run and hide behind your precious Order. I'm not going to abandon my parents because I'm scared!" His voice dropped to a whisper, "They might not always be good people, and they might make...questionable decisions sometimes, but they're my parents, Hermione. I would do anything for them, and leaving them to die in the hands of that psychopath is not one of them."