Unmasked

The next day flew by. Breakfast was a blur of laughs, stealing each other’s toast, and playful jabs about potions and charms. In herbology, Harry dropped a potted plant which not only screamed at him but slathered him with the muddy earth that was inside. Hermione cleaned it up for him, yet that didn’t stop Ron and Pansy making fun of him for the rest of the class and through the next. Lunch came and went just as quickly, a mix of Ron and Draco bickering over quidditch teams (which Harry laughed at) and Hermione telling them off, which ended up with her getting a forkful of beef flung in her face. She wasn’t sure which of the boys it came from, so she sent some flying at all three of them. Pansy never admitted that it was her.

Defence Against the Dark Arts arrived soon enough, and Draco hesitated before entering the classroom. He stopped at the door, staring inside, then took a deep breath and strode to his seat. To complete their duelling unit, today’s lecture was on the uses and effects of different jinxes, hexes, and curses. Some would be new, and others would be familiar, and they were to know how to defend themselves from them all. The students sat quietly as they waited for Snape to enter the room, books propped open and quills ready to take down notes. A moment later Snape swept up the aisle and stood at the front of the class, taking them in silently.

He tapped his wand in his open palm as he spoke. “Jinxes… hexes… curses… I expect I don’t need to inform you of what they are or… how dangerous they can be. However, we will be going over some specifics in detail, and I will expect you to understand how to block or undo them by next week. Is that clear?” The class nodded in unison and Snape returned it curtly. “First off… you should all remember the effects of petrificus totalus?” The class nodded again. “Stupefy?” Another group nod. “Levicorpus?” Some of the class nodded, and the other half looked at their desks. Hermione raised her hand. “Miss Granger?”

“Levicorpus hangs the victim in the air by their feet, sir.”

“And the counterspell?”

“Liberacorpus.”

“Yes… How about locomotor mortis?”

Hermione’s hand shot up once again. “It’s the leg-binding curse.”

“Yes, again… Now, incarcerous?”

The class was silent, no one making eye-contact. In the front of the room, Theodore Nott put up his hand, and was called on. “Sends fire out of the tip of your wand?”

Snape scowled. “No… that would be lacarnum inflamarae. Does anyone know what incarcerous does?” Shakily, a hand rose in the middle of the room. “Yes, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco attempted to steady his voice. “It ties the victim up with rope, sir.”

Snape eyed him. “Correct. Do you know the counter curse?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well. You will learn soon enough. How about… langlock?” The class waited silently for someone to answer.

Again, Draco raised his hand. “It glues the victims tongue to the roof of their mouth so they can’t talk.”

Snape paused and looked at the blond boy in front of him, who didn’t even have to pause to think. “Obscuro?”

“It blindfolds you.”

“Oppugno?”

“Makes any conjured items attack you.”

“Expulso?”

“Makes things explode.”

“Everte statum?”

“Throws you backwards.”

“Ferula?”

“Creates bandag—wait. That’s not negative.”

Snape sighed. “How many of these do you know, Draco?”

Draco met his Professor’s eyes. “Trust me, Professor. I could teach a whole lesson…” His gaze dropped back to his desk as he realized what he’d revealed. Brows furrowed and jaw clenched, he stood from his seat. “Excuse me.”

Snape’s eyes followed him wordlessly as he hurried out of the classroom. The class also turned to watch, not a single student emitting so much as a whisper. Once the door closed, Hermione stood as well. “Sir, can I—”

“Yes, Miss Granger. I… yes.”

Hermione swept her materials into her bag, as well as Draco’s as she passed his seat. She nodded at Harry as well, who only pursed his lips, nodding back. Jogging out of the room, she let the door fall shut behind her, eyes searching for Draco. She hoped he hadn’t took off somewhere, and sighed in relief when she saw him pacing the hallway just beyond the classroom door. He had his back to her, hands tugging at his platinum hair and shaking his head. She called out to him softly, “Draco?”

The Slytherin froze, and Hermione watched his shoulders begin to shake as he started to cry. He turned to her with angry eyes, tears streaming down his pale face. He threw his hands out. “I don’t know what to do, Hermione! I’m making a fool of myself every time I do anythingnow!”

Hermione caught his hands and held them steady. “No you’re not, it only feels like that.”

He sniffed, eyes pleading with her to understand. “I’m so frustrated with myself! I keep making myself look weak and I can’t stop it! Everywhere I go, everything I say… it’s like thi-this shadow is following my every step and I can’t shake it. I keep letting on too much to people who don’t need to know anything and they’re probably all laughing at me in there as we speak.”

“They’re not laughing at you.” She massaged his palms open as he stared at the floor, panting. Once they relaxed, she took him towards the wall and he sank down it. Hermione knelt in front of him, putting her hand gently on the left side of his neck. However, she had to move quickly, as the simple touch on his neck startled him, and he stared up at her with wide, terrified eyes. She dropped her hand to his bicep. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Draco. I’m sorry.” Eventually the alarm disappeared, and he dropped his gaze to his lap, seemingly more frustrated than before. Hermione moved her hand to the side of his face and he reluctantly looked up. “You are not weak. You’re so strong. I want you to know that. I don’t know the whole story, but I know that you’ve been through a lot… more than anyone should have to, especially at our age. And it isn’t fair. You should be proud of how strong you’ve been.”

“How am I strong? I’ve taken this shit to the point of mental breakdowns and it’s embarrassing… and these marks, and scars, and bruises and everything else just prove that.”

“You can’t blame yourself for how this abuse manifested itself on your skin and in your head, Draco. It would give anyone a hard time, and you’re no exception. It is okay to cry, and to talk about it, and to answer questions like you did in class. None of those things make you weak.”

Draco swiped at his eyes. “It feels like it.”

Hermione smiled sadly. “I’m sure it does. But you’re still here.You’ve fought through so much. And now you have support. We are here for you.”

“But you shouldn’t have to be, Hermione! You and Harry and Ron and Pansy shouldn’t have to take care of me! I should be able to do it on my own.”

Hermione shook her head. “We are here to help you heal, and when you’re ready you’ll be able to finish that process on your own. But that doesn’t mean that we will stop being there for you when you’re ready to take that step.”

Draco looked up at her and pushed pieces of blond out of his eyes. “Thank you… I just feel bad. I’ve had to hide for so long…”

“I know. But you don’t have to hide your scars or put up a façade… just be you. That’s enough. Of course, we don’t want you to have these marks, it’s awful and it isn’t right. But you shouldn’t be ashamed of them.”

Draco shifted to reach for his wand and Hermione sat back. He pointed the tip of his wand at his face and muttered an incantation that she couldn’t hear, dragging the tip of his wand downwards over his body. When he stopped he looked back up at her in anticipation of her reaction.

Her eyes scanned him. Because most of his body was covered by his uniform, she couldn’t see much. But his little revealed skin showed many bruises, scrapes, swelling, and scars. Hermione let out a breath, nodding sadly. “Better?” He shrugged. He opened his mouth to speak after a moment, but she cut him off. “Don’t you dare apologize to me.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “How did you know—”

“Never mind that. Just don’t apologize.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t need to. We’ve all been awful to each other in the past and this is bigger than our petty arguments and childish insults… besides. One of those marks on your face could be from me in third year.”

Draco chuckled. “I highly doubt that.”

She laughed. “You never know.”

For a moment the two of them were silent, neither making eye contact. Draco broke the silence first. “Thank you for coming to find me. For just talking and being here…”

“Don’t mention it.” Hermione paused for a moment, pondering. “Do you want to blow off class and go back to Gryffindor tower with me?”

“You want to skip class? You?”

She smiled meekly. “Yeah, why not. It might make you feel better.”

He tilted his head to look at her, then took her outstretched hand as he said, “Sure. Let’s go.”

*

Ron and Harry rushed out of class after the bell rang in DADA, shoving their quills in their bags and taking off. As they reached the hall there was no sign of Hermione nor Draco, and the two boys stared at each other in confusion.

“Maybe they went back to the common room,” Ron suggested. “It’s the only place I can think of that she’d take him.”

Harry scrunched his brows together, staring up the hallway. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Their classmates stared at them as they fought through the crowd. Behind them, a voice called out. “Harry! Ron!” The boys looked behind them, but saw nothing. “Harry! Ron!” The green inseam of a Slytherin robe broke through a pair of Ravenclaw girls and then Pansy’s face became visible. “Where’s Draco? And Hermione?”

Harry turned to her and waited for her to catch up. “Ron thinks they went back to Gryffindor tower. Come on.”

Pansy rushed to keep up with the two of them as they climbed the marble staircase. The three of them rounded the corner, hopping onto one of the staircases as it started to move and stood at the top, waiting. Once it stopped they approached the portrait hole and entered as a second year girl came out.

Ron and Harry clamber inside to see Hermione and Draco sitting in chairs by the fire, talking. “There you are,” Ron said. “I figured you’d be here.”

Hermione and Draco immediately stood, looking at the two boys in the doorway. Hermione laughed. “Well, you were right.”

Pansy stepped inside tentatively, glancing over Ron’s shoulder. He turned to her briefly, then smiled. “Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “We brought her, too.”

Pansy pushed past the boys and went to Draco, pulling him into a hug. When she pulled back, she stared at the marks on his face. She traced a scar on his right cheek gently. “You lifted your concealment?”

He nodded. “Yeah… there’s really no point in always having it on, unless I’m going out somewhere. Everyone here already knows.” He glanced over to Hermione who was grinning. “And Hermione was right, I don’t need to be ashamed of them.”

Harry smiled. “She’s usually right.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“How about some dinner?” Harry suggested. “Just let Ron and I put our bags upstairs and we can all go down together.”

“Sounds good to me.” The girls nodded and Ron headed upstairs momentarily with Harry. When they returned they headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.

As they walked the halls they gained a large amount of weird looks and whispered comments. Everyone was spotting Draco’s unusually colourful and scared skin. Although there was a lot of attention on him, he kept his head high, surrounded by his friends.