“When the habitually even-tempered suddenly fly into a passion, that explosion is apt to be more impressive than the outburst of the most violent amongst us.”
It had been two months since Hermione had heard from or seen Draco. She knew he was still very much around for the Ministry had been in a huge uproar since his transformation. Being an auror was getting harder and harder for her. She had to hide her love for him and at the same time listen to plots created in order to destroy him; all of which she knew would not work. She could sense his powers were far stronger then Voldemort’s had ever been; that frightened even her.
So much time had passed she wondered if he had simply forgotten about her, that maybe his old self had completely died inside the new. Ron still refused to speak to her and with good reason. Mr. and Mrs. Weasly had forgiven her shortly after the funeral but she never went burrow because of the awkwardness there would be with Ron. She had met with Mrs. Weasly once or twice for coffee but those times were usually always cut short. Harry like Ron had not spoken to her either. She had left him a few text messages but they had always gone unanswered. Essentially she had nobody and the one person she ached for seemed thousands of miles away from her. Had he forgotten her? Did he still care? These were questions that constantly ran through her mind. She had vowed along time ago not to be one of those women that sat around and pined for a man, and yet her she was doing exactly that.
She put her empty wine glass on the sink counter and walked into the dimly lit living room of her flat. Another lonely night, nothing new in her world; and then to her surprise she heard a very soft knock at her door. Excitement coursing through her she rushed to unlock the several locks that kept her safe from all of London. She flung the door open but to her disappointment it had not been who she was hoping for, then again why would he knock? Instead she found a much disheveled Harry standing in the threshold of the doorway.
“Harry?” she asked, wondering if maybe he was drunk. He sure looked like it. His hair was wilder then ever, his clothes were wrinkled horribly and his eyes were red and glazed.
“Mind if I come in?” he asked clearly sober.
“Not at all,” she said as she opened the door wider for him to pass through. She shut and locked it behind him.
“Wine?” she offered, but he declined with a wave of his hand.
“You ok Harry? I mean I know that is a stupid question all things considering,” but before she could finish the sentence he cut her off.
“Why the hell, Hermione, do you love such a monster?” he suddenly asked. Now she understood, Harry needed to pick a fight and if he couldn’t do it with Draco why not the person closest to him.
“To me he is not a monster.” She answered.
He shot her a reproachful look, “To you, but what about to the rest of the world?”
“Harry I don’t want to fight with you. Nothing I say in Draco’s defense will calm you or make sense to you.” She calmly said trying to avoid an argument.
“He killed Ginny,” he spat.
“No he did not. He killed the man who did and the others that were there to cause us harm,” she argued in Draco’s defense.
“And just as soon as he killed them I am sure he recruited more.” He said.
“Lucius was the one who sent that attack Harry and it wasn’t for Ginny it was because of me, he wanted to kill me.” She said sorrowfully.
By the look in Harry’s eyes she assumed he had never realized that. He was too consumed with grief to realize anything. She thought she seen his eyes soften towards her.
“My only regret was that I put any of you in harms way, and there isn’t a day that doesn’t go by, Harry, that I do not blame myself for her death.” She said, tears now streaming down her face.
“Still had he not bewitched you, you would never have loved him and had you never loved him, she would still be here.” He stated truly believing his own words.
“Harry he did not bewitch me,” Hermione said, her tone going from shaking to fierce.
“I am going to kill him, Hermione, and I am sorry that it will break your heart.” He hissed.
As much as Hermione loved Harry the fact that he had threatened Draco’s life ignited a fury inside of her of which she had never felt before.
“Harry James Potter,” she said slowly raising her stare to meet his, “You will have to kill me first.”
He rushed towards her so fast she was caught off guard, and he pulled her so close to him she almost thought he was going to try and kiss her.
“Do not make vacant threats Hermione,” he angrily said. CRACK, he was gone.
Hermione shot up from where she had fallen asleep on the couch. She could hardly breathe but was relieved what had just happened was nothing more then a dream. Her wine glass was actually still on the coffee table; she noticed it before she turned to double check and glance in the direction of her kitchen sink. But for some reason she could not shake the feeling of anger and frustration towards the threat Harry had made on Draco’s life in the dream. It was then she realized maybe it wasn’t a dream but more of a premonition. She jumped to her feet, grabbed her keys and coat ran out of the front door, locked it behind her and ran down the hall of the building. She had to find Harry; since she knew unless Draco came to her she would never get near him.
A/N: Trying to show Hermione is changing some. Not evil but her anger is less hidden, even if it was a dream. Imagine if it were real? Like the qoute - things might get explosive... Hope you all are still lovin the story! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews!!!!