Dramione Fic: Bend or Break [5/?]
Title: Bend or Break
Author: charlottetrips
Rating: M
Genre: Drama, Angst, Romance
Warnings: character death, images of violence
Characters: Draco, Hermione, Ginny, Harry
Disclaimer: Anything from the Harry Potter-verse belongs to JKR. The plot is mine.
Summary: In one moment, everything falls apart in Hermione's life. Her world in turmoil, she's reaching the breaking point. Someone unexpected might be able to bring her back. And if he can, she'll learn more than she thought possible about love, loss, and learning to heal.
Chapter 1 - Her
Chapter 2 - Him
Chapter 3 - Cliff Edge
Chapter 4 - In the Middle
Chapter Five - The Baby
Draco didn't react at first, surprised that she would do this now of all times, and then his hands came up and pulled her thin wrists from around his neck, pushing her away from him slightly. He really looked at her then. Yes, her long-lashed eyes held tears in them and now held uncertainty. He also thought he saw annoyance. At him? For what? Not snogging her when his best mate that she had been engaged to had just died in an accident that they were very much the cause of?
Anger swept through him, an emotion Draco welcomed as it was familiar, one that he could handle, unlike the feelings of anguish and guilt. He set her away from him more fully and took a step back, letting go of her wrists. Her hands came up to wipe away the tears that had fallen in the moment he had refused her kiss.
He watched her silently, his own hands finding their way to his pockets. When she was finished, he spoke, quietly yet heatedly, "He found out. Before he crashed his car, he found out. He died angry and betrayed and probably feeling very alone in this world, Sybil." He nearly choked on her name. Merlin, his throat felt like it was closing, his eyes were burning and he wanted to punch a hole through the wall and break things, cause himself pain, just to do something to start his penance.
Her bright wide eyes held his gaze, her face frozen. He couldn't read her expression clearly. Was she feeling the same regret, the shame? She swallowed, her hand coming up in front of her, reaching for him. "Draco," she whispered.
Ignoring her hand, he turned away from her to look at the mirror above her fireplace, seeing their reflections in it. She dropped her hand and bowed her head, fine blonde strands covering her face, shielding herself from his gaze. He met his own eyes in the mirror. That gash through his right eyebrow gave him a perpetual glare, his mouth was drawn into a pained frown. They were only a few footsteps apart and yet Draco felt they were on completely different continents.
"I'm not going to see you anymore." The words were out of his mouth before he actually realized he was saying them. He hadn't made that decision on his way over but just looking at her and seeing that her tears weren't just for Blaise's death but for her loss of a secure future, he was disgusted. With her and with himself. She had been the only woman Blaise had come close to committing himself forever to. Then Draco had come along and there had been that spark between them that he had tried to ignore until one drunken night when Blaise was out of town. Even then, it was only supposed to be one night, not the three months it had turned into.
He couldn't believe that he hadn't really thought of how this would have affected Blaise, that if they were ever found out, he would be losing someone who he'd grown up with, who he had fought battles with, who had stood by his side when the rest of the wizarding world had spat on him, who had been there through every high and low of his life. Oh, he had touched upon the consequences and brushed them aside, telling himself he would stop soon and that Blaise would never have to know. His eyes shut in pain, his face drawn tight. Bloody hell, he was the scum of the universe.
He heard her suppressed sobs and turned slowly to face her. She had one arm wrapped around her middle, trying to giver herself the comfort he refused, her other hand continuing to wipe the tears that fell. He hated it when she cried, when anyone cried. He never knew what to do. "Draco-" she got out between gasps, her eyes opening to look into his, "I-I can't lose you, too."
The liquid hot anger was back. She didn't get it. "You 'lost' me the moment I saw the hurt and betrayal in my best friend's eyes, when he drove himself into another car, killing not only himself but another man who will never meet his child and who his widow will now have to raise alone."
He ignored her flinch at the hard edge of his anger. Feeling dirty and ashamed, he left her standing there, tears running down her face.
*.*
He didn't actually know what he was doing, standing on this doorstep, waiting for someone to answer the door. He definitely didn't belong here.
After several days of sitting in his flat, staring at the walls and steeping himself in misery and suffering, he had realized that despite his degraded existence, it wasn't too late for him to change, to try to live, even if he spent the rest of it in atonement for his sins. There were some people he needed to see.
Draco's first stop had been to his parents. His mother had been trying to reach him since the day after the accident, having been informed of it via The Daily Prophet and not even by her own son, as she stated in one particular owl message. He had only replied to one of her notes and chosen to ignore all other attempts to reach him, not able to face other people, knowing the type of man he had become. A man so selfish that he took what he wanted without regard for others and the possible outcomes, even if it meant others' lives. A man who betrayed his friends for a moment's fun. Without Draco really being aware of it, he had become someone that he did not like, someone he could even hate.
Narcissa had been teary-eyed when she had seen his face: paler than usual, the dark circles under his eyes starting to become a permanent feature and the scar through his eyebrow nearly healed, the only evidence a bare line of skin cutting through the end of the blond eyebrow, almost invisible. She had wordlessly enveloped him in a rare hug which he had returned, feeling a little better about himself, just because.
After assuring her of his well-being-physically, at least-he had Apparated to the Zabini family mansion. He wasn't close to Blaise's mother, she being more of the general mindset that to be near a Malfoy was ill-luck, but he felt he owed it to his friend to at least see that she was told by someone who had been close to him. Never mind how they had parted. This feeling of responsibility and accountability was new to him and he was still pondering if it was something to be applauded or gotten rid of as fast as possible.
Indira Zabini had not been welcoming at all.
"I knew you would be the death of him," she had hissed at him as he stood at her front door, her large but elegant frame blocking entry to her home. Her dark eyes were filled with loathing, shiny with unshed tears. "I told him time and time again that no good would come out of being friends with a Malfoy. Traitors the lot of you are. Traitors!" The last shouted at him before she had slammed the door unceremoniously in his face.
It had hurt. Draco had been a little surprised at that, thinking that he had inured himself against such prejudices during the years following the end of the war. After he and his mother had had their wands suspended, they had only been able to stay in London for a week or two before the closed doors and unfriendly attitude of old friends drove them out to Cornwall where they had lived an almost Muggle life. Something which Draco had greatly resented that first year.
Shrugging it off, as he had done all those years ago, he'd pushed that pain deep inside him, where the rest of his hurt and insecurities had gone, leaking out only in those infrequent vulnerable times. Needing something to bolster himself, he'd had stopped in at a shop in Diagon Alley and ordered some chips. He'd sat in the outside eating area, thinking of nothing but the salt and crunchiness of his snack and feeling the last of winter's chills sweep through the winding streets, the sun making a meager attempt to warm him when he'd been struck by a sudden urge to check on Hermione and her baby. He'd felt relief upon Harry telling him that they were alive but he felt like he needed to see for himself. His last memory of her was when she was lying on that road unconscious.
Finishing up his chips, he made his way to St. Mungo's to see Hermione, only to find that she had been checked out just the day before and was now at her parents' home. Recognizing Draco and having heard the stories surrounding his rescue of Hermione Weasley, the MediWitch had leaned in to confide that the poor girl had seemed completely heartbroken, refusing to even see her own son, the baby reminding her too much of who she'd lost. This had caused a strange reaction in Draco, having known what it was like to grow up with bare affection from his parents.
He'd gotten the address of where Hermione had been released to-the public opinion of him seeming to have risen with the tale of his bravery-and now he was standing on the clean doorstep of Hermione's family home on a quiet Muggle street. He'd rung the doorbell, tentatively, and waited, suppressing the impulse to shift from foot to foot.
After several minutes passed without response, he brought his hand up to ring the bell again and lost his nerve. Sighing to himself, he turned away just as the door opened. Turning quickly back, he met the surprised eyes of Ginny Potter. He nervously took off his hat and subtly worried the brim as he greeted her. "Hello, there, Ginny," he paused, hoping to gauge her reaction to his presence but other than her surprised look earlier, her face was impassive, waiting for him to continue. "I was in the area of St. Mungo's and I'd gone to check on Hermione, to see how she was, and the MediWitch told me that she'd been released and she gave me the address so I came here. To check on her," he finished lamely.
For a moment, all the redhead did was look at him and then she nodded and stepped aside, leading him in to a comfortably furnished living room. "If you could wait here, I'll go see if she's up to-available to see you." Her eyes met his briefly, a searching look that Draco met head on. He'd caught the slip of her tongue and it struck him how it saddened him that a girl who had been such a force to deal with in their younger days was in such a condition.
He took his jacket off and took a seat on the sofa as Ginny walked out of the room. He sat there a moment, staring at his hands, feeling a bit intrusive. Frustrated with himself, with the turbulent emotions and thoughts he'd been dealing with since the accident, he stood up to pace around the room, trying to keep himself from thinking to much. Looking around, he saw many pictures of Hermione growing up from childhood and into adulthood. Another quick glance over the photos brought to his attention that there were no pictures of Ron.
Ginny came back, looking sad and weary. "Now is not a good time," she said, shaking her head.
Draco nodded and bent down to pick up his jacket and hat off the armchair and started to move to the door when a sudden thought occurred to him. He paused. Ginny was watching him, curious. Hesitantly, knowing he had no real reason other than the fact that it had suddenly become important to him, he asked, "Could I-would I be able to see the child?"
Her eyes widened. He could see that he had again surprised her. He hurried to somehow make his request more valid, because now that he had voiced his concern, he felt he had to see the baby, as if this was the key to assuage some of the guilt and pressure on his chest. "You see, I'd heard that Hermione had had her baby after the accident and I would just like to see for myself that the child lived, you know, so that I know someone survived the accident. Besides me," he trailed off quietly, looking away, trying to hide his urgency.
There was a short silence, then: "All right. But just for a minute." The relief he felt seemed unexplainable but he couldn't help notice that there was a sudden lightness around him, like there would be absolution for him if he could just see that the baby was alive and well. She led him from the living room into a hallway that had several open doors and one that was completely shut. Instinctively Draco knew that that was Hermione's room. Ginny paused outside of it before turning to the opposite partially open door and gently pushing it open, gesturing Draco ahead of her.
Slowly he walked in, taking in the painted walls: a light blue with colorful balloons edging the borders and the soft light that bathed the white-washed furniture. The main point of interest of course was the crib in the center where Draco could just make out soft gargling and snuffling sounds. Just as he was approaching it, the baby let out a small cry, one that was pitiful and lonely and tore at his insides. Ginny, strangely enough, hung back at the doorway, somehow knowing that this was a moment that should just belong to Draco.
Draco knew what it felt like to be unheard and unloved, that space in his heart where a mother's love should be, largely unfulfilled in his childhood. He came into view of the baby boy whose small face was scrunched up in distress, his small fists opening and closing in front of him reaching for someone who wasn't coming. Whatever had grabbed hold of him inside, tightened once more.
"Hey," Draco whispered, his voice gentler than he had ever heard it. Without thinking about it, he reached a hand into the crib to touch one of those small hands. Abruptly the baby's cries stopped and his large eyes opened, the clear blue capturing Draco the instant he saw them. The little hand opened up and made a grab for Draco's finger. And for perhaps the first time in his life, Draco fell in love.