Chapter 6
“We can’t both leave this room.”
It’s strange, the things that come to mind in the moments between life and death. Hermione stands across from him, knowing that these are the final moments of her life, and yet her mind drifts slowly to philosophy.
She is reminded of a thought experiment that she read about one summer. Had she told this experiment to Draco? She should have, if not. He would positively hate it. She almost smiles, despite everything, imagining it. In another life, she explains it to him, and he is alight with vexation. He is gesturing wildly and arguing exasperatedly and she is so in love with him. She goes to make them tea while he rambles, then joins him on the couch to keep listening. They stay up debating all night, and she never grows bored. In another life, she loves him like this. In another life, she loves him, and it is wild and exasperated and easy.
But in this life, she is staring down the end of his wand, and she is reminded of philosophy. A man locks a cat inside of a box with something that will kill it eventually. In those moments, the box sealed off from the outside world, the cat is suspended in time. The cat is dead, but the cat is also alive.
A cat, and a box, and a poison.
A couple, and a room, and their fate.
In this moment, sealed off from the battle that rages through the building, they exist in a pocket of time all their own.
They have carved out a small piece of infinity for themselves, one in which they are both wonderfully alive and devastatingly not. One in which they can finally, finally exist just them two.
In a strange and tragic way, she thinks, they got what they always wanted.
—
Year Three
“I can’t believe you punched me!” Draco whispered, coming up behind her in the hallway outside of the classroom. She must not have been expecting him so soon, because she jumped slightly at his voice, “You actually bloody punched me!”
“Shhh!” She released a small laugh as she shushed him, gesturing to the portraits on the wall, “You’re going to wake them up!”
“They had to episkey my nose, Granger!” He walked around her to continue down the hallway backwards, gesturing at his nose as they went.
“Shame they couldn’t fix the rest of your face.” She whispered nonchalantly, shifting the stack of books in her arms and casting an alohamora around his side. He feigned a gasp before turning just in time to push the door open. It released its signature creak and they both ducked inside.
“Have you ever broken your nose?” He continued, “It bloody hurts, and it hurts even more to reset it!”
“What did you expect?” She set her things down on a back-row table and leaned against it, crossing her arms. “You called the execution of a completely innocent magical creature a show! Who does that, Malfoy?”
He flinched slightly, raising his hand up to the back of his neck,“Okay, I admit, maybe that was a bit much. I was trying to make a scene, you know, for Crabbe and Goyle. Their fathers’ are close with mine…”
“I get it, Malfoy.” She interrupted, her face softening as she spoke. She did get it, after his explanation so many weeks ago. He was well and truly torn, and she wouldn’t hold that against him, not in this room, at least. She looked him over, a small smirk playing across her face as she continued, “Maybe I went a bit far, myself, with the punch.”
“And calling me a cockroach?” He raised an eyebrow at her.
“No,” She shook her head, smiling, “No, that felt justified.”
“Oh really?” He teased, “Couldn’t have stopped with foul, loathsome, or evil, could you?”
“You said we had to stay convincing!”
“You were this close to hexing me!” He held his fingers up, laughing along with her. Her laugh faltered a bit and Draco noticed a small flinch at his words. A few months ago, he might not have noticed anything. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing.” She waved him off, “It’s silly, really.”
He waited for her to continue, not willing to let it go, “I’ve just– I’ve never aimed my wand at someone like that. Offensively, I mean, outside of class. I knew I wouldn’t cast anything, but it still felt… wrong, to point it at you like that. I’m just sorry for doing it, that’s all.”
The small moments like this reminded Draco just how different they were. He had pretended to hex people his entire life, whether playfully or threateningly, having seen his father do so innumerable times growing up. In his mind, a wand was as much a weapon as anything else. But not to her, to her it was a tool first and a weapon as a last resort.
“Don’t be.” He shook his head, looking into her eyes, “It’s okay, Granger. I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. Not for real.”
She smirked again. “Of course not, you knew I would just break your nose.”
“No, I truly did not see that coming.” He laughed, letting the silence sit for a minute. “I’m sorry, by the way, about Buckbeak.”
She avoided his eyes, turning her face to the side and hopping off the table. Draco briefly wondered if he should have said anything at all, but it felt right to apologize. It was his fault the creature was dead, after all. He turned to follow her down the center aisle when she suddenly ran to the front of the classroom.
“Oh no!” She ran to stand in the empty space where the boggart cabinet had been. He briefly wondered how they missed it upon entering the room; the space felt so much bigger without the giant reflective cupboard looming in the corner, “Oh, this is horrible, Malfoy. They must have stored it away for the summer. I can’t believe this!”
He leaned against the table in the front row, across from where the cabinet had rested for the entire year. “Well, I probably wasn’t going to get it today, anyways.” He muttered, trying not to let his disappointment show, “What are the odds that I would finally be successful in the last week of the term?”
“No, you were going to get it today!” She said, her hands falling down to her sides, “I just know it! You were so close! I was fully prepared to celebrate, I brought snacks and everything.”
She looked absolutely defeated, and Draco couldn’t help but notice the small stab of pain in his chest. She had so much confidence in him, and while he worried it was completely unfounded, it was also remarkable, and he didn’t want it to go away. If the boggart was gone, did that mean this was all about to end?
“Well,” He tried to keep his voice calm, feigning confidence, “if you brought snacks all the way here, we shouldn’t let them go to waste.”
She looked at him puzzled, and his body flooded with dread that he had misread the entire situation. She was here to help him complete a task, with that task unattainable, obviously she would just leave.
“You want to just… hang out?”
“No, I mean– Not unless you want to– or don’t want to– or–” She shook her head, laughing at him. He stopped, composing himself back to feigned nonchalance despite his cover being completely blown, “I suppose it depends on the snacks.”
She smiled, scurrying past him to retrieve her bag and, after swiping it off the table, opened it to reveal a dozen different bags of crisps.
“I didn’t know what kind you would like.” She said sheepishly. He exhaled a laugh and gestured for her to join him at the front of the classroom. He sat down on the floor and she joined him, holding the bag out in his direction. He closed his eyes and pulled one at random, reading the label.
“Alright, snacks approved. We can ‘just hang out.’” He smirked, popping a crisp into his mouth as she rolled her eyes at him.
.
“You don’t like flying at all?”
“Not really, no.”
“You’re so terribly boring, truly.”
“And you’re so terribly predictable, truly.”
“What a delightfully dull pair we make.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
.
“Do you have any good ghost stories?”
“Not really, no.”
“Really? I heard Malfoy Manor is dreadfully haunted.”
“Only in the ways that matter.”
“Ah, so it smells?”
“Terribly so, I’m afraid.”
.
“Ew, what are these?”
“Oh! They’re American! My mother has a friend from University that moved there and she sends me care packages.”
“They’re muggle?”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, the problem is they’re disgusting.”
“They’re cheese flavored. Those can be hit or miss. I should have brought the sour cream and onion ones.”
“Those sound worse, Granger.”
.
“What are your thoughts on Divination?”
“The practice or the class?”
“Both.”
“The future is stupid and Trelawney is a nutter.”
“Don’t be rude, Malfoy.”
“You disagree?”
“Not in the slightest.”
.
“What is this thing?”
“Oh! It’s a CD player! It plays music through these, they’re called headphones or earbuds. I like to use it when I’m studying.”
“Another muggle thing?”
“See, the way you say that makes me think it’s a problem.”
“Not to me, but my ancestors are surely trying to hex me through the veil as we speak.”
“I hope they succeed, sounds entertaining.”
.
“I almost died today.”
Draco shot up to a seated position, turning towards her.
“I’m sorry, you what?”
“I can’t tell you everything, most of it isn’t my story to tell, but… the short of it is there was a werewolf and–”
“A werewolf? Is that why you were doing extra secret research? Granger, you have to–”
“I mean it, Malfoy, I can tell you part of the story or I can tell you none of it, but there are some things I cannot share.” He closed his mouth, swallowing the rest of his objection. He nodded at her to continue, “We were in the woods, me and Harry, and we were running from the werewolf, trying to hide from it. We thought we lost it but then I turned around and… and there he was, staring at me.
“I was so scared, I was sure that we were going to die, but at the same time I just felt so sad for him. I kept thinking he’s going to wake up tomorrow and know what he did, he’s going to know that he killed people, people he cares about, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it, to control himself. I’m going to die here, but he’s going to have to live with that forever.”
Draco swallowed again, trying not to picture her facing down a monster, terrified for her own life, but equally terrified for the creature. Draco could see her empathy playing out across her face all over again; her care for this other person outweighing her fear for herself. It was the same empathy that saved him at the beginning of the year. In that moment, Draco had never been more afraid of anything than he was afraid of her heart.
“But I also thought about this,” She said, gesturing to the room and to the space between them, “About how sad it would be for this to end. How you would never beat the boggart and you’d have to go back to being the other you all the time and how you wouldn’t even mourn me–”
“I would, Granger.” Her mouth closed quickly as she looked at him, “I would absolutely mourn you.”
He would do more than that. If anything happened to her, it would devastate him. The thought of it now was enough to make him nauseous. He didn’t know what it would look like, how it would change the trajectory of his life, but he was certain that it would. The dam he had erected inside of himself over the course of the year— the dam that barely kept everything at bay— would surely burst apart at the seams and he would never be the same.
She nodded at him, but didn’t continue her story.
“How did you beat it?” He asked, finally, needing to hear her full journey back to safety, despite the evidence of her sitting across from him now.
She smiled at him, her eyes lighting up slightly.
“You have to swear you won’t say anything.”
His curiosity peaked as the corner of his mouth raised, “Unlikely co-conspirators, remember?”
“Buckbeak saved me, right before we set him free.” She beamed at him as she spoke, and he could do little more than stare slack-jawed in shock, “I can’t say much more than that, but he’s okay, Malfoy. He’s safe.”
Draco fixed his face quickly and let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t killed the hippogriff. She had saved it, and kept him from being a murderer at the ripe age of fourteen. She had done it.
“That’s–” He took another steadying breath, flexing his hands, “That’s great.”
She smiled at him then resumed laying on her back. He did the same, fiddling with the wire that attached to the CD player she had shown him. He didn’t understand how the small bud on the end played music, but he had enjoyed the few songs she showed him throughout the night. They laid in silence for a while, letting it sit in the room as a welcome third party.
“Malfoy?” She finally spoke, not moving her head to look towards him. “Can I ask you two questions?”
“Yeah,” He said, not turning his head either. “Go on then.”
“Next year, are we going to– I mean do you want to–” She huffed and took a breath, sitting back up. Draco smiled to himself as she searched for words, “I mean, when we come back, do you still want to–”
“Yes.” He responded firmly, sitting up and nodding his head once. He could see her whole body relax at his answer. “Yes, I do.”
She nodded back at him before avoiding his eyes by looking down at her fingers.
“And your second question?” He prodded.
“Over the summer, are you going to be okay?”
He thought for a moment as she looked at him through her eyelashes. Of course, he would be fine, just like he was every summer. He would be bored and miserable and lonely, but he would be fine. He would run errands with his father to learn how to be a good heir, he would have tea with his mother to learn how to be a good echelon, and he would spend time with himself reflecting on the hours spent in this room, to learn how to be a good person.
“Careful, Granger, that almost sounds like something a friend would ask.” He smirked at her, “Surely not a mortal enemy.”
She threw a crisp at him.
“Ugh, not the cheesy muggle ones, what would my ancestors think?” He teased, brushing the orange dust off of his trousers.
“I hope it gets them to hurry up and figure out how to hex you.”
They laughed and laid back down on the cold, stone floor. He assured her that he would be okay over the summer, and that when they returned next year, they would meet here, in this room, the way they had all of this year, boggart or no boggart.
She put a new CD in the player and they listened to every track, she only interrupted every few songs to explain the meaning. When the CD ended, they talked more as it repeated in the background over and over. Finally, as the sky began to lighten with the first signs of daybreak, they had no choice but to pack up, close the noisy classroom door, and return to their rooms.
They stopped in the hallway before heading to their separate spaces.
“I’ll see you around, Granger.” He smirked, standing awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. She stood across from equally as uncomfortable, holding her books in her left arm. She seemed to contemplate something before going to walk past him. After a moment, she reached out to gently place her free hand on his left forearm. Draco felt his body tense, remembering– the way he always did when she grabbed him there– the Boggart that they spent all year trying to conquer, and the mark he bore in the same spot.
“Have a good summer, Malfoy.” She said, squeezing his arm gently, “I’ll see you in the fall.”