Treasure Hunt | Dramione ✔

Chapter Sixteen

"I never hated you," she whispers.

His eyes widen, and the surprise is evident in them.

"I despised you, loathed you, but never hated you," she clarifies with a grin.

Draco narrows his eyes. " How very noble of you, Granger," he drawls. "I'm flattered to hear you use the past tense"

Hermione bites her tongue. Literally.
"My bad, Malfoy. Let me correct myself," she clears her throat and sits up straighter. "I despise you, I loathe you, but I don't hate you," she says and she's grinning from ear to ear.

Draco huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "I'm honoured," he drawls. "Pray tell why you're cancelling out hatred?" He asks.

"Because," she begins. "Hate is a strong word. A very, very strong word. It's the devil's path and only brings destruction upon us. It corrupts us. It's an illusion conjured by one's own mind. You cannot ever truly hate someone, because hating someone would mean that you want them gone- dead, and that's just against the rules of humanity."

Draco clasps his hands together and rests his chin on top of them. Leaning a bit forward, he narrows his eyes as he says, "Don't tell me you never hated the Dark Lord, because that would be just plain lies".

Hermione snorts, her heart rate accelerating because of their close proximity. "He wasn't even human. The Voldemort we faced was just 1/7th of the soul of Tom Riddle."

Draco surprises her by grinning a little. " How about...," he clears his throat. "Aunt Bellatrix?" His expression turns back to neutral.

Hermione's mouth drops a little.

Aunt Bellatrix.

Aunt Bellatrix.

She was his aunt.

"Granger," he snaps his fingers in front of her face. "Forget about it," he says, looking slightly alarmed because she knew she was turning pale.

"Aunt," she whispers and lifts her eyes to meet his, wide and glossy.

Draco sighs. "I cannot change my blood relations, Granger."

"Would you?" She whispers. "If you had the chance to choose a family....would you- would you still choose to be a Malfoy?" Her chest contricts.

He cocks his head to one side, studying her face. "Of course," he replies without hesitation. " But I'd rather not have her as my aunt," he says as he scratches the back of his neck.

"Were you close to her?" She asks and sniffs.

Draco scoffs. " If being tortured by her counts as being close to her, then I was practically stuck to her at the hip," and then his eyes widen as he realises that he's let slip something that he doesn't want her to know.

"She tortured you?" Hermione cannot help but gasp. "But- but you're her nephew! How could she-"

"Were, Granger," he corrects.
"I was that witch's nephew. Now she's gone. Dead."

"And rightfully so," she says.

"Is that hatred I see in your eyes?" He asks with an upturn of his lips into the famous Malfoy smirk.