Exception Chapter 7: Potions and Problems (Part 2)
A look at Dramione behind the scenes of the Harry Potter series
Hermione spent her next weeks flickering between trying to win over Ron again and staying true to her love for Draco, the memory of their most recent kiss haunting her. Though it took a while, Slughorn's Christmas party settled it for her. If anything, going to the party with someone who annoyed Ron would pay him back for the frustration he caused her. Her conversation with Parvati one day, and Ron's amusing reaction to the whole thing, made Hermione happier than she should have been.
All that happiness faded at the party, however, when she learned what Cormac was really like. He was the most annoying person Hermione had ever met, and he seemed to have the intelligence of a mountain troll. Two things were on his mind-Quidditch and snogging.
Just as that thought began to creep into her mind, the one person whom Hermione wished she could be snogging was dragged into the room by Filch. She knew right away that something was wrong with Draco, but she wasn't sure if it wasn't because he'd gotten caught. Then again, it was Draco-had he really been trying to gate-crash? If not, what had he really been up to?
But Hermione couldn't wonder for long because soon, Snape was taking Draco away and Cormac's tall figure was making its way towards her. Hermione quickly left the party and went to bed. Soon, she remembered, she would be with her parents and then she'd be able to think rationally with no emotional influence. She looked forward to that day.
Unfortunately for Hermione, the day she got back, Harry immediately told her that Malfoy was up to something, and she wasn't entirely sure that Harry was wrong this time.
Along with Harry, Hermione had been watching Draco, though not nearly as much. She noticed that Draco wasn't really paying much attention in his classes. She also noticed that he looked abnormally tired, as if he hadn't gotten sleep in weeks. If she was being truthful, Draco looked horrible, with bruises under his eyes accented by his white skin that seemed to be even whiter than usual and his hair-no longer styled-looked like he was either constantly running his hands through it or he didn't even comb it anymore-probably both. Hermione knew she needed to talk to him again, and she knew she had to do it when Harry wasn't pouring over the Marauder's Map
Draco knew that time was running out. It was second semester, the Vanishing Cabinet wasn't finished, and Dumbledore was still alive. Draco knew his only option was to work on the cabinet day and night non-stop. He tried his best to get Crabbe and Goyle to protect him every time, but they were getting much too tired. Draco had begun making frequent trips to the Room of Requirement by himself, and it was one of these times that he ran into Hermione with her nose in-a piece of parchment.
"Granger! What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I could ask you the same, Draco. And I could also ask where you've been lately!" Hermione cried, stuffing the parchment in her pocket. "Harry would certainly like to know."
"What's Potter got to do with anything?" Draco yelled back.
"He suspects you of something Draco! And to be quite honest, I'm not so sure I'm not suspicious either," Hermione said. At her words, Draco led her off to a hidden alcove.
"And what, might I ask, does he suspect me of doing?" Draco hissed when they were well-hidden.
"He thinks you're a Death Eater!" Hermione yelled, and ignoring Draco's attempts to shush her, Hermione continued on, "And after mentioning Fenir Greyback as much as you do and Snape's Unbreakable Vow, how am I not supposed to come to any conclusions like that?"
"How did you-?"
It doesn't matter. And along with all that, Draco, I can see that you look horrible-"
"Thanks-"
"It's true and you know it! You don't seem like you've slept in days, Draco, and I'm starting to worry about your health at this point."
"Forget about my health, Hermione," Draco said, no longer yelling. "I can take care of myself. Besides, by the end of the year, you'll wish I'm not so healthy."
"You seem so sure of that," Hermione said resignedly.
"That's because I know what a person like you will do after I finish my task," Draco said. "Just-stop caring. It will make things so much better."
Draco saw Hermione's eyes harden and she said, "Fine, then-don't tell me. Just wallow in your self-pity, leading a depressing, lonely path." She turned on her heels and marched away.
"Hermione, don't go," Draco called after her weakly. He knew there was no getting out of this. She was angry at him, and the only way she would feel better was if he told her about the plan, which he just couldn't do.
Draco's frustration mounted more than ever and he felt resulting tears well in his eyes. Needing a place to hide, he ran into a bathroom where he hurriedly washed his face. And knowing he was alone, Draco let himself cry, spouting out words of frustration and occasionally anger.
"This whole situation-so bloody stupid…can't believe I actually…and a dirty Mudblood at that," Draco was unaware that he had a ghostly eavesdropper hiding in the S-bend. Outraged at the use of the word Mudblood, Moaning Myrtle flew out of the toilet, spewing water everywhere.
"How dare you use that word!" she yelled, making Draco jump and turn around.
When he realized what this ghost had said, he started to laugh.
"Are you mocking me, boy? Is that it?" Myrtle said, and the toilets all made bubbling sound that threatened to spew over the rims. That was what clued Draco in to the identity of the ghost.
"No, no," Draco assured her immediately. "You don't understand-I…I…"
"You what?" Myrtle yelled. "You thought that you could just come in here, use that word and make fun of me? You stupid boy! You're all the same!"
And Myrtle began to cry. "Boys always make fun of me," she whined. "Or, they promise to come back and never do. I just want someone to make feel less lonely."
Draco hesitated, knowing he was taking a risk, but he plundered on ahead and said, "I'm just as lonely as you are. I have no one I can really talk to."
"You're mocking me again," Myrtle accused.
"No, I swear I'm not," Draco assured her. "To be honest, I'm in desperate need of someone to confide in. Can I trust you to keep secrets?"
"I've just told you I've no one to talk to," Myrtle snorted.
"All the same, if someone asks about me, you won't tell them my name, or any of the things I've told you? I won't come back if you do," Draco said.
"Oh I promise," Myrtle giggled. "You're much nicer than the last boy."
"Who's-it doesn't matter. Anyway, do you happen to be a Mud-Muggle-born?" Draco asked.
Myrtle's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Yes."
"Well, you see, I happen to be in love with someone…of your status." Myrtle seemed a bit disappointed in this. "But the problem is, my parents are-are Death Eaters…"
Draco launched into the whole story, including his task of having to kill Dumbledore. Myrtle listened better than anyone Draco had ever met, and it seemed a major relief to have someone to say all these things to. The best part of it was that Myrtle was very sympathetic to it all, and she had wanted to help, though Draco knew she could do nothing as a ghost. As afternoon turned into dusk, Draco knew he needed to get back before curfew, Prefect or not.
"It was lovely talking to you, Myrtle," he called over his shoulder as he left. "I'll come back soon."
And he did come back a couple more times since them. It was the last time however, that resulted in Draco's blood pouring all over the floor.
When Hermione heard the news, she nearly ran straight to the hospital room. The last words she had spoken to Draco had been out of spite, and she didn't want that to be the last thing he remembered her by. It was only after having rational thoughts occupy her mind again and hearing that Pansy Parkinson had beat her to it that Hermione realized that it wouldn't be a good idea to go-not yet.
She couldn't, however, stop herself from chiding Harry. She tried her hardest to make it seem like her usual lectures, but she barely hid her anger at Harry, and even Ginny, who she thought would be more understanding. But it hadn't passed Hermione's notice that Harry and Ginny seemed to be getting closer and closer, so she was a bit lenient toward the fiery red-head-but that didn't make her any less angry at the time.
Hermione decided to check on Malfoy-more of a peek really-on the pretense of asking Madame Pomfrey questions about Healers. When she walked into the room, however, Draco immediately groaned.
"Granger, you shouldn't be here," he sighed. "I'm fine, really."
"There you go-wallowing in your self-pity again!" Hermione burst out-not exactly the greeting she had planned, but a more genuine one in her opinion. "How hard is it to just confide in someone?"
"I was confiding in someone when Potter attacked me!" Draco shouted back.
"According to Harry, you attacked him!" Hermione countered. "And anyway, why would you confide in Myrtle, of all people?"
"Well I don't know, maybe it's the fact that she's a ghost who's not about to go tell the whole school of the woes of Draco Malfoy, and the fact that she doesn't know me as a Mudblood hater," Draco said.
"What does that m-" But Hermione was interrupted by a flustered Poppy Pomfrey.
"This patient needs rest, Miss Granger, and arguing will not achieve that!" she exclaimed.
"Actually, Madame Pomfrey, I came to ask you some questions on Healers," Hermione said, sending a meaningful glare at Draco. "Your patient is just a presumptuous prat."
Draco rolled his eyes, and Hermione knew he wasn't fooled, but Madame Pomfrey seemed to be. She led Hermione off to her office and answered Hermione's questions quite readily.
When Hermione was done, she shot Draco an angry glare and swept out the room as if half the reason for her visit hadn't been Draco. In any event, he certainly seemed perfectly well off, or at least well enough to hold an argument with her.
And yet he still managed to pull at her heartstrings. Was Moaning Myrtle the only person Draco could talk to? Was he that lonely? And yet he was still insisted on pushing her away.
Hermione wiped a tear from her eye as she returned to the common room.
"Expelliarmus!" Draco disarmed Dumbledore without even looking at the man, but once he saw him-once he saw the man he was supposed to kill-he knew he wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it. Making it especially hard was Dumbledore's words-so calming, and so nonchalant. It made Draco relax. Until…
"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."
"How do you know?" Draco asked immediately. It was as if Dumbledore had read his mind-had he? Draco quickly used Occlumency and then added, "You don't know what I'm capable of. You don't know what I've done!"
And then began the half-argument between them, where Draco explained everything-every plan he had, even the ones he stole from Hermione. Thoughts of her, and how much he'd been pushing her away all year, they succeeded in making him angrier-but not nearly angry enough to kill Dumbledore.
Suddenly an opening came "…I can help you, Draco."
Malfoy listened to Dumbledore's plans, which seemed so realistic, so safe. Draco wanted to accept so badly. Just when he came to a decision, just when he was lowering his wand, Death Eaters burst in. Draco could tell Greyback had entered the room almost by smell, and he nearly panicked. What was he doing here? There was a reason Draco hadn't wanted him to be at the school. Draco's hands shook more than ever.
And then he was shoved down by Snape. Before Draco could right himself, he heard, "Avada Kedavra!" and the flash of green light told him it was all over.
Hermione was up in the hospital wing on McGonagall's orders, and her mind was becoming something of a jumbled mess. She was disoriented, exhausted, and horrified. The latter was a result of Bill's injuries and the thoughts of who else could have been hurt.
Hermione shoved this mess to the back of her mind, however, when she heard Ginny:
" Ron-Dumbledore's dead!"
A whole new mess of questions was created with this-how? Was it even possible? Who did it? Hermione focused as much as she could-through the questions and sting of tears-on what Harry was saying, but he said something that distracted her further.
"-and then Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him-"
Hermione put her hands to her mouth. She knew Draco was involved, but not this involved. Was he hurt? Dumbledore wouldn't hurt him, but what about Snape-he was the one that killed Dumbledore, who knew what else he would do? And what was Draco doing there anyway?
Tears formed slowly as Hermione listened to what everyone was saying. She was thinking back to her own experience that night, believing that Snape was good, that Flitwick collapsed. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was the reason Snape hadn't been stopped earlier, she was the reason Dumbledore was dead, whatever Lupin said.
Of course Hermione went over that night in her head multiple times throughout the last few weeks, and in the beginning, she thought back to how Draco said she would hate him by the end of the year. She agreed with this. Draco was helping the Death Eaters just as Harry suspected-just as she accused him of being-and he hadn't told her. He had helped Snape kill Dumbledore. How could she not hate him?
But after Harry told her and Ron about more about what happened up in the Astronomy Tower, Hermione changed her mind. Draco was doing it for his family, and he almost gave in-he almost changed sides. Now, all Hermione could do was pity Draco, pity the boy forced into a world he wanted no part of. Hermione had gotten into the habit of telling an imaginary Draco that he had been wrong-that not only did she not hate him, but she felt that she loved him more. He was just trying to protect his family, and would have, if Snape hadn't interrupted the whole thing.
The thing that comforted Hermione, if only a tiny bit, was knowing that Draco was another exception-the one Death Eater that wasn't completely evil.
Next Chapter
Hermione spent her next weeks flickering between trying to win over Ron again and staying true to her love for Draco, the memory of their most recent kiss haunting her. Though it took a while, Slughorn's Christmas party settled it for her. If anything, going to the party with someone who annoyed Ron would pay him back for the frustration he caused her. Her conversation with Parvati one day, and Ron's amusing reaction to the whole thing, made Hermione happier than she should have been.
All that happiness faded at the party, however, when she learned what Cormac was really like. He was the most annoying person Hermione had ever met, and he seemed to have the intelligence of a mountain troll. Two things were on his mind-Quidditch and snogging.
Just as that thought began to creep into her mind, the one person whom Hermione wished she could be snogging was dragged into the room by Filch. She knew right away that something was wrong with Draco, but she wasn't sure if it wasn't because he'd gotten caught. Then again, it was Draco-had he really been trying to gate-crash? If not, what had he really been up to?
But Hermione couldn't wonder for long because soon, Snape was taking Draco away and Cormac's tall figure was making its way towards her. Hermione quickly left the party and went to bed. Soon, she remembered, she would be with her parents and then she'd be able to think rationally with no emotional influence. She looked forward to that day.
Unfortunately for Hermione, the day she got back, Harry immediately told her that Malfoy was up to something, and she wasn't entirely sure that Harry was wrong this time.
Along with Harry, Hermione had been watching Draco, though not nearly as much. She noticed that Draco wasn't really paying much attention in his classes. She also noticed that he looked abnormally tired, as if he hadn't gotten sleep in weeks. If she was being truthful, Draco looked horrible, with bruises under his eyes accented by his white skin that seemed to be even whiter than usual and his hair-no longer styled-looked like he was either constantly running his hands through it or he didn't even comb it anymore-probably both. Hermione knew she needed to talk to him again, and she knew she had to do it when Harry wasn't pouring over the Marauder's Map
Draco knew that time was running out. It was second semester, the Vanishing Cabinet wasn't finished, and Dumbledore was still alive. Draco knew his only option was to work on the cabinet day and night non-stop. He tried his best to get Crabbe and Goyle to protect him every time, but they were getting much too tired. Draco had begun making frequent trips to the Room of Requirement by himself, and it was one of these times that he ran into Hermione with her nose in-a piece of parchment.
"Granger! What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I could ask you the same, Draco. And I could also ask where you've been lately!" Hermione cried, stuffing the parchment in her pocket. "Harry would certainly like to know."
"What's Potter got to do with anything?" Draco yelled back.
"He suspects you of something Draco! And to be quite honest, I'm not so sure I'm not suspicious either," Hermione said. At her words, Draco led her off to a hidden alcove.
"And what, might I ask, does he suspect me of doing?" Draco hissed when they were well-hidden.
"He thinks you're a Death Eater!" Hermione yelled, and ignoring Draco's attempts to shush her, Hermione continued on, "And after mentioning Fenir Greyback as much as you do and Snape's Unbreakable Vow, how am I not supposed to come to any conclusions like that?"
"How did you-?"
It doesn't matter. And along with all that, Draco, I can see that you look horrible-"
"Thanks-"
"It's true and you know it! You don't seem like you've slept in days, Draco, and I'm starting to worry about your health at this point."
"Forget about my health, Hermione," Draco said, no longer yelling. "I can take care of myself. Besides, by the end of the year, you'll wish I'm not so healthy."
"You seem so sure of that," Hermione said resignedly.
"That's because I know what a person like you will do after I finish my task," Draco said. "Just-stop caring. It will make things so much better."
Draco saw Hermione's eyes harden and she said, "Fine, then-don't tell me. Just wallow in your self-pity, leading a depressing, lonely path." She turned on her heels and marched away.
"Hermione, don't go," Draco called after her weakly. He knew there was no getting out of this. She was angry at him, and the only way she would feel better was if he told her about the plan, which he just couldn't do.
Draco's frustration mounted more than ever and he felt resulting tears well in his eyes. Needing a place to hide, he ran into a bathroom where he hurriedly washed his face. And knowing he was alone, Draco let himself cry, spouting out words of frustration and occasionally anger.
"This whole situation-so bloody stupid…can't believe I actually…and a dirty Mudblood at that," Draco was unaware that he had a ghostly eavesdropper hiding in the S-bend. Outraged at the use of the word Mudblood, Moaning Myrtle flew out of the toilet, spewing water everywhere.
"How dare you use that word!" she yelled, making Draco jump and turn around.
When he realized what this ghost had said, he started to laugh.
"Are you mocking me, boy? Is that it?" Myrtle said, and the toilets all made bubbling sound that threatened to spew over the rims. That was what clued Draco in to the identity of the ghost.
"No, no," Draco assured her immediately. "You don't understand-I…I…"
"You what?" Myrtle yelled. "You thought that you could just come in here, use that word and make fun of me? You stupid boy! You're all the same!"
And Myrtle began to cry. "Boys always make fun of me," she whined. "Or, they promise to come back and never do. I just want someone to make feel less lonely."
Draco hesitated, knowing he was taking a risk, but he plundered on ahead and said, "I'm just as lonely as you are. I have no one I can really talk to."
"You're mocking me again," Myrtle accused.
"No, I swear I'm not," Draco assured her. "To be honest, I'm in desperate need of someone to confide in. Can I trust you to keep secrets?"
"I've just told you I've no one to talk to," Myrtle snorted.
"All the same, if someone asks about me, you won't tell them my name, or any of the things I've told you? I won't come back if you do," Draco said.
"Oh I promise," Myrtle giggled. "You're much nicer than the last boy."
"Who's-it doesn't matter. Anyway, do you happen to be a Mud-Muggle-born?" Draco asked.
Myrtle's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Yes."
"Well, you see, I happen to be in love with someone…of your status." Myrtle seemed a bit disappointed in this. "But the problem is, my parents are-are Death Eaters…"
Draco launched into the whole story, including his task of having to kill Dumbledore. Myrtle listened better than anyone Draco had ever met, and it seemed a major relief to have someone to say all these things to. The best part of it was that Myrtle was very sympathetic to it all, and she had wanted to help, though Draco knew she could do nothing as a ghost. As afternoon turned into dusk, Draco knew he needed to get back before curfew, Prefect or not.
"It was lovely talking to you, Myrtle," he called over his shoulder as he left. "I'll come back soon."
And he did come back a couple more times since them. It was the last time however, that resulted in Draco's blood pouring all over the floor.
When Hermione heard the news, she nearly ran straight to the hospital room. The last words she had spoken to Draco had been out of spite, and she didn't want that to be the last thing he remembered her by. It was only after having rational thoughts occupy her mind again and hearing that Pansy Parkinson had beat her to it that Hermione realized that it wouldn't be a good idea to go-not yet.
She couldn't, however, stop herself from chiding Harry. She tried her hardest to make it seem like her usual lectures, but she barely hid her anger at Harry, and even Ginny, who she thought would be more understanding. But it hadn't passed Hermione's notice that Harry and Ginny seemed to be getting closer and closer, so she was a bit lenient toward the fiery red-head-but that didn't make her any less angry at the time.
Hermione decided to check on Malfoy-more of a peek really-on the pretense of asking Madame Pomfrey questions about Healers. When she walked into the room, however, Draco immediately groaned.
"Granger, you shouldn't be here," he sighed. "I'm fine, really."
"There you go-wallowing in your self-pity again!" Hermione burst out-not exactly the greeting she had planned, but a more genuine one in her opinion. "How hard is it to just confide in someone?"
"I was confiding in someone when Potter attacked me!" Draco shouted back.
"According to Harry, you attacked him!" Hermione countered. "And anyway, why would you confide in Myrtle, of all people?"
"Well I don't know, maybe it's the fact that she's a ghost who's not about to go tell the whole school of the woes of Draco Malfoy, and the fact that she doesn't know me as a Mudblood hater," Draco said.
"What does that m-" But Hermione was interrupted by a flustered Poppy Pomfrey.
"This patient needs rest, Miss Granger, and arguing will not achieve that!" she exclaimed.
"Actually, Madame Pomfrey, I came to ask you some questions on Healers," Hermione said, sending a meaningful glare at Draco. "Your patient is just a presumptuous prat."
Draco rolled his eyes, and Hermione knew he wasn't fooled, but Madame Pomfrey seemed to be. She led Hermione off to her office and answered Hermione's questions quite readily.
When Hermione was done, she shot Draco an angry glare and swept out the room as if half the reason for her visit hadn't been Draco. In any event, he certainly seemed perfectly well off, or at least well enough to hold an argument with her.
And yet he still managed to pull at her heartstrings. Was Moaning Myrtle the only person Draco could talk to? Was he that lonely? And yet he was still insisted on pushing her away.
Hermione wiped a tear from her eye as she returned to the common room.
"Expelliarmus!" Draco disarmed Dumbledore without even looking at the man, but once he saw him-once he saw the man he was supposed to kill-he knew he wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it. Making it especially hard was Dumbledore's words-so calming, and so nonchalant. It made Draco relax. Until…
"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."
"How do you know?" Draco asked immediately. It was as if Dumbledore had read his mind-had he? Draco quickly used Occlumency and then added, "You don't know what I'm capable of. You don't know what I've done!"
And then began the half-argument between them, where Draco explained everything-every plan he had, even the ones he stole from Hermione. Thoughts of her, and how much he'd been pushing her away all year, they succeeded in making him angrier-but not nearly angry enough to kill Dumbledore.
Suddenly an opening came "…I can help you, Draco."
Malfoy listened to Dumbledore's plans, which seemed so realistic, so safe. Draco wanted to accept so badly. Just when he came to a decision, just when he was lowering his wand, Death Eaters burst in. Draco could tell Greyback had entered the room almost by smell, and he nearly panicked. What was he doing here? There was a reason Draco hadn't wanted him to be at the school. Draco's hands shook more than ever.
And then he was shoved down by Snape. Before Draco could right himself, he heard, "Avada Kedavra!" and the flash of green light told him it was all over.
Hermione was up in the hospital wing on McGonagall's orders, and her mind was becoming something of a jumbled mess. She was disoriented, exhausted, and horrified. The latter was a result of Bill's injuries and the thoughts of who else could have been hurt.
Hermione shoved this mess to the back of her mind, however, when she heard Ginny:
" Ron-Dumbledore's dead!"
A whole new mess of questions was created with this-how? Was it even possible? Who did it? Hermione focused as much as she could-through the questions and sting of tears-on what Harry was saying, but he said something that distracted her further.
"-and then Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him-"
Hermione put her hands to her mouth. She knew Draco was involved, but not this involved. Was he hurt? Dumbledore wouldn't hurt him, but what about Snape-he was the one that killed Dumbledore, who knew what else he would do? And what was Draco doing there anyway?
Tears formed slowly as Hermione listened to what everyone was saying. She was thinking back to her own experience that night, believing that Snape was good, that Flitwick collapsed. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was the reason Snape hadn't been stopped earlier, she was the reason Dumbledore was dead, whatever Lupin said.
Of course Hermione went over that night in her head multiple times throughout the last few weeks, and in the beginning, she thought back to how Draco said she would hate him by the end of the year. She agreed with this. Draco was helping the Death Eaters just as Harry suspected-just as she accused him of being-and he hadn't told her. He had helped Snape kill Dumbledore. How could she not hate him?
But after Harry told her and Ron about more about what happened up in the Astronomy Tower, Hermione changed her mind. Draco was doing it for his family, and he almost gave in-he almost changed sides. Now, all Hermione could do was pity Draco, pity the boy forced into a world he wanted no part of. Hermione had gotten into the habit of telling an imaginary Draco that he had been wrong-that not only did she not hate him, but she felt that she loved him more. He was just trying to protect his family, and would have, if Snape hadn't interrupted the whole thing.
The thing that comforted Hermione, if only a tiny bit, was knowing that Draco was another exception-the one Death Eater that wasn't completely evil.
Next Chapter