Where was she? He thought to himself for the umptieth time that day. She hadn’t been at breakfast, she hadn’t been in any of her classes and when he’d tried to get into the Head dorm before lunch, the password had been changed.
He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t just go up to Potter and ask him where she was. That would be suspicious, and he didn’t want to break his promise to Hermione to keep their relationship a secret. Besides, Potter seemed to be in a horrible mood, so he wasn’t keen to interact with him anyways.
The first class after lunch was Potions, so he had the perfect excuse to ask about her whereabouts. Maybe she’d gotten sick or something.
He made his way to Professor Slughorn, who had just finished explaining the duo project. “Excuse me Professor?”
Slughorn turned around to face him. “Yes, my boy?”
“Are you by any chance aware of where Granger is? She is my partner this year and if she’s not here, I need to get her the information, because I’m not doing everything myself,” he lied. That was plausible, right?
The professor walked around his desk. “Let me look for a second.” He rummaged about through some papers. “I’m not seeing anything in the notes for today, but she might have been unable to sign out. You could always check her dorm or the Hospital Wing.”
Shit. How had he not thought of that? It was highly unlikely that Hermione would go to the Hospital Wing for something less than a life-threatening disease, but he needed to check everywhere.
He hurried towards the Hospital Wing and towards Madame Pomfrey’s office. He knocked on the door, before being summoned inside.
“How can I help you, Mister Malfoy?” She kindly asked.
He cleared his throat, slightly uncomfortable. “Has Hermione Granger been here today?” He really shouldn’t go around asking where she was. People would get suspicious, but he needed to know that she was okay.
“No, Miss Granger hasn’t been around. Is there a need for her to come by?” Madame Pomfrey asked.
He quickly shook his head. “No. No, she had a question about something medical, I believe. Nothing important. I was just wondering.” He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “I should go, I have class in a bit.” He didn’t, but he didn’t know what else to say. Gods, he was socially inept.
He made his way towards the library. If she wasn’t at the library, he’d have to go see Headmistress McGonagall, because he was going out of his mind with worry.
He was beginning to spiral and the thoughts in his head weren’t pretty. He feared that she might be seriously ill, but why would she change her password? Had she changed her mind? Was she done with their relationship – with him?
His mind was reeling with all kinds of possibilities when he was slammed into the wall and an arm pressed on his neck, choking him.
“Tell her to get her things from the Head dorm or I will throw them out,” Potter spit in his face. “I don’t know what you have done to her, but I will never forgive you or her for this. Tell her she is as dead to me as you are.” He gave him another shove into the wall, before walking away.
He sunk down to the ground to catch his breath. What the hell was that?
There was so much to unpack. Get her things from the…? She wasn’t in her dorm anymore? Where in Merlin’s name was she?
Wait… Potter knew. He knew. Fuck. FUCK. He’d thrown her out. Fucking bastard.
Draco couldn’t give a flying fuck about his promise to Hermione anymore. He needed to find her and he knew exactly where to start.
Quickly making his way to the Gryffindor dorm, he banged on the portrait until someone opened it. He pushed his way inside and turned around to face the person who opened the portrait – Neville Longbottom.
“Where is the Weaselette’s room?” He demanded.
“Who?” Longbottom looked at him questioningly.
“Ginny Weasley. Which room is hers?”
Longbottom looked uncomfortable. “Erm… I don’t think-”
“It’s important, Longbottom. I need to know. Please,” he pressed. He wasn’t above begging. Not when it came to Hermione.
“Second door on the right,” Longbottom said as he pointed towards the girls’ dorms.
Not wasting any time, he thanked Longbottom and hurried up the stairs. When he found himself in front of – supposedly – Weaselette’s door, he took a moment to prepare himself. There was a high chance that – now that they weren’t a secret – she wouldn’t want to be with him anymore.
He knocked on the door and it swung open.
He was met with a glaring redhead. “Who let you in, Malfoy?”
“Er, Longbottom. Look, can I just talk to her? I need to know if she’s okay.” She wasn’t going to deck him in the face, was she?
“Talk to who? Who are you talking about?” She inquired.
“Granger, of course. If she doesn’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. Just tell me if she’s okay or not.” It’s not how he wanted this to go, but he was dying here.
“’Mione isn’t here… what are you talking about, Malfoy? What did you do?” She questioned as she stepped closer to him.
Shit. “I didn’t do anything. I was looking for her, since she missed Potions and I needed to give her the instructions for our next assignment.” Gods, he was a horrible liar.
“Yeah? Why wouldn’t she want to talk to you then?” Well, she had him there. Should he tell her? She clearly didn’t know where Hermione was, so she wouldn’t be of any use anyways.
“We just had a little disagreement last time. No big deal. Listen, if-”
She interrupted him. “Cut the crap, Malfoy. I know you two are… something. She is a shit liar, and I might have seen you kiss in the courtyard once. I never asked her about it, because I knew that she would tell me when she felt ready to do so.” She shrugged.
He was speechless. Apparently, they hadn’t been as inconspicuous as they had thought.
“Did you tell Potter?” He glared at her. That shithead had kicked Hermione out and if Weaselette was the cause of that, she’d have another thing coming.
“No? Why would I…? Harry and I aren’t on the best of terms, since we broke up.”
Draco shook his head. This was getting him nowhere. He needed to get out of here and find her.
“What-” Weaselette started, but Draco was already gone. He turned around and walked out of the room, not interested in anything else she had to say.
On his way to the library, which he still hadn’t visited, he heard a voice coming from the Prefect’s bathroom.
“Dracooo?” A high-pitched voice called. “Draco, care for a visit?”
He poked his head inside the bathroom. “Myrtle? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in your own bathroom? Is everything okay?”
“Oh, I’m perfectly fine, but thank you for asking,” the ghost replied. “It's been a while since you visited, so I thought you may want to visit more if I gave you a present,” she said as she pointed towards one of the stalls. “She has been here since last night. Not very ladylike to sit on the bathroom floor. Even I don’t do that.”
“A present? Who is here, Myrtle?” What is she talking about?
“Cat lady. Although, she isn’t a cat anymore. That was quite funny actually. I laughed more than I had in years. You don’t like her much, so you can have some fun with her if you want,” Myrtle giggled.
He doesn’t like her- He ran into the bathroom and opened every stall door. When he finally made it to the last one, he opened it and saw Hermione sitting there on the floor – seemingly asleep – with her head resting against the wall.
He fell to his knees and moved the hair from her eyes. “Hermione? Love? FUCK!” He frantically tried to get her to wake up. She’d been here all night? He wanted to hit something - or rather someone - but he didn’t have the time to have a break down right now. Hermione needed him.
He picked her up and hurried out of the bathroom, throwing a quick ‘thank you’ to Myrtle. He quickly made his way to the Eighth Year’s dorm and into his own room. He put her down on his bed carefully.
She was bloody cold and shivering, so he carefully pulled the blankets over her. He quietly asked for Dobby, who immediately appeared in his room. He had been so happy that Dobby had survived the war and started working at Hogwarts. The elf had been one of his best friends growing up and he had missed him dearly.
“Dobby, I’m sorry to bother you, but could you maybe bring some food, tea and coffee here? Hermione hasn’t eaten since at least yesterday, but I don’t want to leave her alone to get some myself,” he whispered, careful not to disturb Hermione.
“Of course, Young Master Malfoy. Everything for Miss Granger,” the elf replied enthusiastically, but he could also see the worry in his eyes.
“Dobby, I told you to call me Dr-” But he was already gone.
What should he do now? Gods, he felt helpless. He performed some basic diagnostic spells, but found nothing wrong with her except light malnourishment and a low body temperature. He settled in beside her and pulled her into his arms, hoping that his body heat would heat her up.
Not long after, Dobby came back with something to drink and eat, leaving it on the nightstand with heating charms. Draco gave him a grateful smile before he was gone again.
He stayed like that, watching her, for what felt like forever. Why hadn't she come to him? Hadn't she felt safe enough to do so? Had she thought that he wouldn't take her in? What had made her sleep for nearly a full day on the bathroom floor? He silently cried at the thought of her being helpless and alone in there, with nothing and no one to comfort her.
After a few hours, her eyes fluttered open. “Hermione?” He whispered.
She confusedly looked around. “What?” It killed him how fragile and broken she looked.
“Hermione, love, you need to eat something,” he told her as he moved to get some food from beside him. He wanted to know exactly what had happened, but her health was more important right now.
“I’m not hungry,” she muttered. “Are we in your room?”
He sighed. “Yes, but Hermione you need to eat something. You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.” She reluctantly accepted the muffin.
When she was done, she moved away from him slightly. “We need to talk,” she quietly said, and he already knew what was coming.
“Yeah, I know,” he agreed, which caused her to look at him slightly confused.
“I know Potter knows,” he admitted. “He said some less than kind things and - with your permission - I will deck him in the face.”
She shook her head. “What did he say to you?” Draco asked her.
She shook her head again. “It was nothing, I-”
“Don’t lie to me, Hermione. Knowing what he told me, I can somewhat imagine what he told you, so I need you to tell me,” he said with a stern face. If Potter had told her that she was dead to him, just like he had told Draco, he was going to kill him.
She mumbled something too softly for Draco to comprehend. “What?”
“He told me to choose,” she said a little louder.
“Choose between what?”
“He told me that I could never see you again, or him and me would be done,” she said with tears in her eyes and Draco was sure that he was going to kill Scarhead.
This was all his fault. He caused this wedge between the two and he hated himself for it. He hated Potter more though. Hermione thought of Potter as family, and he’d treat her like that? What an absolute dickhead.
“I understand that you choose him, Hermione. Of course you’d choose him.” He’d prepared himself for this already, even though it felt like his heart was being ripped from his rib cage. He might have been preparing for the eventual demise of their relationship from the beginning. He didn't deserve her. He knew it, so other people did too. It didn't make him love her any less though.
“But…” He began.
“But what?”
“He thinks you chose me. Because you were nowhere to be found, I presume. He…erm…he told me that you had to come pack up your things or he’d get rid of them.” He rubbed his hand over Hermione’s back, trying to comfort her (or himself, he didn’t really know).
She nodded. “Right.”
“Wait, you’d be okay if we’d broke up?” Her voice waivered.
He chuckled, but there was no humour in it. “Of course not. It would break my heart, Granger, but I’d understand. He is your family, and I can’t take that away from you. I couldn’t do that to you, because I love you and you don’t hurt the people you love.”
That’s why he wanted to punch Potter even more, but he’d do that when their friendship wouldn’t be held together by the slightest of strings.
What he'd hoped would reassure her, made her cry even more.
“Baby, it’s okay. I’m not-”
“He didn’t even want to listen to me. He wouldn’t even let me explain. I was right to be scared to tell him,” she cried. “I told him that I love you and he called me delusional.” Draco needed to keep a list of reasons to punch that bloke in the face. His heart did skip a beat at her confessing that she loved him. They'd never said that to each other before. Knowing that she did, made this even more painful.
“He was the same when I didn’t want to be with Ron, even though Ron felt the same as me. He said that we just had to try. Why does he feel like he can determine what I should and shouldn’t do? I didn’t judge him when he wanted to break up with Ginny.”
“I don’t know, love. It’s your life and you make the choices,” Draco assured her, while trying to keep his own tears at bay.
“He hurts me. He should support me, but instead he doesn’t even hear me out and hurts me,” she sobs.
“I know, love. You deserve better, Hermione.” Draco kisses her on the head. He wants to tell her a fuck ton more. Something along the lines of ‘fuck him and his bullshit opinions’, but he won’t steer her into anything. Like he said: it’s her life and her choices.
“I want to go to my dorm,” she stated. “And I want you to walk me there, please.” He obviously wasn't going to let her go alone. No, he had to fix this.
“Okay, but you need to eat some more, then,” Draco pressed and luckily, she complied.
He’d told her that he understood that she’d choose Potter and he wasn’t lying. It broke his heart, but he wouldn’t show that. He didn’t want her to feel bad for choosing what she felt was the right thing to do. He would explain to Potter that she chose Potter and not him and everything would work out between them. He wouldn’t be the reason she lost the only family she had left.
They made their way up to the Head dorm and Hermione knocked on the door, since she didn’t know the new password.
Potter opened the portrait with a blank, almost bored look on his face.
Draco immediately tried to do some damage control. “She wasn’t in my room she was… with a friend. She doesn’t-”
“I’m here to grab my things, Harry. That’s what you wanted, right?” Draco’s head whipped to Hermione. What was she doing?
“If you were really my friend, you wouldn’t make me choose between two people I love. Draco was ready to let me go, because he loves me, and he doesn’t want to hurt me. He knows how much it would hurt me to lose you. You didn’t even want to hear me out. I told you I love him, and you said I was delusional, immediately turning your back on me. I can’t call that friendship, nor being my family.
“I don’t want to have to choose, Harry. I really don’t. Because I love you. And I’m sorry that I lied to you, I really am. But I am not sorry about falling in love with the person who makes me feel the happiest I have felt in a long time. Who cherishes me and loves me for who I am. Who accepts the choices I make as my choices and doesn’t pressure me into doing anything I don’t want to do. Who makes me feel safe and calms my anxiety. You don’t get to judge me for that.
“I will move into Draco’s room – or ask McGonagall for another room if he doesn’t want me to. I am sorry that it has to be this way, but know that this was your choice,” she said in a strong voice, never waivering.
Draco looked at her with admiration. Gods, his witch was perfect. She deserved the world, and he would gladly give it to her.
As they walked out of the Head dorm, he spun her around and kissed her. “I’m so proud of you, Hermione, and I love you so damn much. I would love for you to move in with me.”
“I love you too,” she smiled up at him.
“Are you sure though? I don’t want you to regret anything,” he quietly asked her.
“I could never regret choosing you, Draco,” she smiled at him.
“Where is he?” They heard behind them. “Where is that scarheaded bastard?” Ginny approached them with a murderous look on her face. “I’m going to hex him in the balls, ‘Mione,” she said as she walked towards the still open portrait hole.
“Oh, congratulations on finding love with the Ferret, by the way. I am happy for you,” she smiled, before walking through the portrait hole. Judging by the yelp coming from the dorm, she had indeed hexed him – possible in the balls.
“She knows?” Hermione questioned.
Draco nodded. “She knows. She was just waiting for you to be ready to talk about it.”
“I’m ready,” she whispered. “To talk about it with everyone. I don’t want to hide anymore, Draco. I want everyone to know how much I love you,” she said as she pulled him towards her by his neck and kissed him.