Curious and Curiouser

13: Gates

They sat like that for half an hour, Malfoy staring despondently at the table in front of him, defeated and weary; Hermione peering at him intently, waiting for him to speak.

He had always known that he was better than Granger, it was never something he had questioned.

But he had seen her bleed, he knew her blood was indistinguishable from his own. He had known this for years, ever since the day she, Potter and Weasley had been dragged into his house by snatchers. He had seen her blood again, just the other day, dark red against the white pages. No different than his own. He knew that, but he didn't accept it.

The rational part of his mind told him that he had no control over who he had been born. He had had no say in being a Malfoy. He had made no choice that had allowed him to be born into one of the wealthiest pureblood families in the world.

By that same logic, Granger had made no choice to be born with magic to non-magical parents. He knew this, but still, he didn't accept it. To accept it would be to accept that he had been in the wrong for years.

"Malfoy," she prodded lightly, uncertainly.

He looked up when he heard his name, slightly surprised at the lack of contempt in her tone.

She opened her mouth to speak, "I'm sorry," she sounded genuinely sincere. Truly sorry. He held her gaze, searching for some malice in her eyes but he couldn't find any. He nodded at her.

She deflated slightly, she had been expecting more. But he couldn't. There was nothing he could think to say. So he stood up and left.

She had done it before, he told himself, she had walked away twice before. And with some twisted logic he managed to convince himself that he was winning. Granger: 1, Malfoy: 2.

****

Hermione leaned back with a sigh, this whole argument had come up out of nowhere and left her very confused. She was proud of herself for standing her ground. For not backing down. For not running away this time.

There was no point in her being here if Malfoy wasn't so she packed up her things and left, she would be able to focus better after a quick nap. Merlin knew that argument had taken quite a bit of energy.

Despite her exhaustion Hermione couldn't fall asleep. Her thoughts were racing around her head. She had no idea why Malfoy had attacked her like that for being just a bit late. She had no idea what point he had even been trying to prove. And she had no idea how to react to him now.

She couldn't bring herself to be angry at him at the moment, all she felt for him was pity. He was suffering, she knew that it couldn't have been easy for him to ask Harry for help, that would've gone against every fiber of his being. But he had done it. He had done it for his father. Hermione pushed Lucius from her mind, instead choosing to admire Draco for what he was willing to do for his family.

She could handle Draco in some sort of fragile reality but the moment Lucius entered the picture it would all be shattered. He had been a grown man for crying out loud. She would forever consider his actions inexcusable.

It had been truly jarring to see Draco look defeated and broken like he had been when she had called him a coward. She had never seen him looking less than immaculate. Even during their sixth year at Hogwarts, when he had been plotting to kill Dumbledore. He might've looked tired, but never disheveled.

Malfoy had tried to kill Dumbledore. The thought repeated itself in her mind. Malfoy had tried to kill Dumbledore. She sat bolt upright, her eyes screwed shut, Malfoy had tried to kill Dumbledore. She was breathing hard now, the excitement building in her heart, Malfoy had tried to kill Dumbledore, by letting death eaters into Hogwarts with the Vanishing Cabinet! Her heart rate had picked up. Malfoy had used the room of requirement all of sixth year. He might know something Neville didn't.