Shoulder Pillow

Chapter 4: An Overdue Apology

 Draco could feel his hands sweating. He had followed Harry all the way back to his common room in the northern dormitories, where Harry had gone inside to get Hermione. Draco was alone to ruminate in his thoughts. They weren't very pleasant ones.

He was worried about so many different things. What if Hermione tried to convince Harry that he wasn't worth bothering with? What if Harry listened to her? (Of course, Harry would listen to her, he was the kind of person who puts those he loved before anything else. He was the kind who loved fiercely and with everything he had, and Draco knew that he longed to be one of those people, to be loved so passionately) But most of all, deep down, Draco knew that the biggest thing that was worrying him was the fear that Hermione would despise him. That she would take his apology and throw it into the metaphorical trash bin.

How would he explain to her how those words had tasted on his tongue? How could he make her see that he had hated himself for weeks after they had passed the threshold of his lips? How could he explain to her that he thought the deep, rich brown color of her skin was beautiful in every way?

Harry came out of the door that led to the northern common room with an unreadable expression on his face.

Hermione followed behind him, her eyes scanning the hallway before landing on Draco. Her eyes narrowed while the rest of her face went blank. Draco could feel his stomach clenching, his heart was beating faster, his hands felt clammy, he couldn't even-

Hermione interrupted his thoughts with a raised brow in his direction. "Well? I'm not going to stand around here wasting my time waiting for you to put two words together, Malfoy," she hissed.

It seemed to be just the thing he needed to get the words to come out of his mouth.

"Granger," he paused, swallowed hard, "Hermione. I... um. I just, I know that what I said to you was awful, and horrible, and I'm so sorry." Draco swallowed again, he couldn't seem to dislodge the horrible feelings there. "I grew up with a father who has no regard for colored people-"

"People of color," Hermione interrupted. "The term is people of color. We are people first. We aren't less than, we are just as human as you." At that moment she glanced at Harry, who dipped his head in agreement. Draco looked down and nodded, he could feel his ears going pink.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." Draco looked up to see Hermione gesturing with her hand for him to continue.

"My father is immensely racist, Hermione. I grew up with those words being tossed about like they were nothing, it was normal to me. But-but when I said that to you, I instantly, immediately regretted it. I hated the way that those words felt when I said them, and I wanted to take them back so badly," he paused, ready to bear the worst of it, "I was just too much of a coward to do it. I was so ashamed and- and I hated myself for it. And I couldn't stand to let you see that."

Draco looked her square in the eyes. "I'm truly sorry for what I said to you, Hermione, and for the pain that I've caused you."

She held his gaze, and he could've sworn that he saw a twitch of her lips, and her eyes line with silver. "I can't say that I thought I would ever hear those words," she said, "I also can't say that I forgive you right now, but I can say thank you. Thank you, for saying those things, and for telling me your story." The corners of her mouth were definitely pulling into the smallest of smiles.

"You seem more like a human being."

***

Harry had left Draco standing there in the hall after telling him that he would be back in a few minutes. The moment that he and Hermione had walked into the common room, she had practically tackled him in a hug. Of course, Harry, being as well-built as he was, wasn't even moved by her much smaller force. But he could practically feel the energy buzzing off of her. He wrapped his arms around her.