Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Back Next

I Could Be Your Hero by potterprincess07
Chapter 22 : Shocks
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 3

Background:   Font color:  

A/N: Here is Part 3. This part has been in the works for a long time. Even longer than most of Part 2, in fact. I say that because, if things don't quite line up (as in if there are inconsistencies, that is the reason, so please forgive me :D.)


With this chapter, and with the ones that follow, this is all I'm going to say. Read with an open mind. I can't say more just yet without giving it away, but just trust me :D. Well, here goes (I'm a bit nervous!)



A crack outside the door caught Hermione by surprise as she realised that it was about six o’clock and time for Draco to be home. But why wasn’t he using the Floo Network? And Apperating outside the house? 


She reached out to open the door to surprise him and gasped. 


“Harry! What are you doing here?”  she cried. But instead of the usual grin Harry sported whenever he came by, he had a stone expression on his face. 


“Harry?” she asked again, staring at him. “Harry, what is it? Is it… is Ginny alright? Has something happened to her?” she asked. 


He shook his head, and then looked at her for the first time since he arrived. 


“Sit down, Hermione,” he said. Not taking her eyes of him, she sank down into the sofa. 


Harry seated himself next to her. 


He inhaled slowly, followed by a long, drawn out exhale. He reached over and took her hand in his and still avoided talking to her. 


“Hermione, there’s been… an accident. There was an accident at the Ministry today.” 


“What kind of accident? Was anyone hurt? Harry, just tell me. What happened?”


He just slowly shook his head and she could swear she saw a tear threatening to fall. 


“There was nothing anyone could do.  Draco’s been… he’s dead, Hermione.” 


For a moment, she had no reaction. She just had a blank stare while she looked at Harry.


Without words having to be said, he opened his arms to her and she found herself falling in them. 


A loud, uncontrolled sob escaped her, shattering into the silence like a pistol shot. 


Her eyes bloodshot and swollen, she pulled away and looked up at him. 


“What happened?” she whispered. 


“No one really knows yet. My personal guess is that he was getting too close to uncovering the truth in Daphne’s murder, and realizing that he was a threat, they decided to get rid of him as well. There was no sign of a struggle, there was nothing caught on surveillance. If Susan Bones, who’s the secretary for the department, hadn’t stopped in to remind him of the meeting tomorrow, we probably still wouldn’t know.” 



“How is she doing?” Ginny asked Harry a short while later, as they stood in the kitchen while Ginny brewed a cup of tea. 


“I think she’s still somewhat in shock. I mean, I’m the one who had to deliver the news and I still can’t believe it.” 


The tea kettle whistled and Ginny lifted it off the stove and brought it to the table.  


She poured them each a cup and stepped behind Harry’s chair and gently started rubbing his shoulders. 


“I never through this part of my job would hit so close to home, you know?” 


Ginny sat in the chair across from him. 


“All we can do is be there for her,” she said. 


“It’s just, so unfair, you know?” Harry said. “It seems like she never can catch a break. She gets her life on track, and then all of the sudden its ripped from under her. For the past few years, if it wasn’t one thing, it was another.” 


Ginny absently stirred her tea. 


“Just between the two of us, off the record, exactly what do you think it was that happened?”


He shrugged. “That’s the only thing that even seems possible. As far as I know, he didn’t have any enemies. Any that were left anyway. And what about Daphne? I never knew her that well, but from what I did know of her, she was a nice girl. Never hurt anyone. Certainly not Death Eater material. That’s what makes all of this so hard. There seem to be no leads to go on.” 


“But you said that you thought Draco had been getting closer and closer. Or was that just something that you were telling Hermione to make her feel a little better?”


He shook his head. “No. I still believe that. He did nothing but lock himself up in his office, as though he were onto something, and time after time I kept asking him what he’d uncovered and tried to help him, but he shrugged me off.”


After a second, he slammed his hands down on the table, shattering the silence. 


“Damnit! I should have made him tell me what he knew. What kind of supervisor does that make me?”


He paused. “Not to mention… what kind of friend does it make me?”



Hermione was laying in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Every time she closed her eyes, she opened them again hoping that she was going to wake up from a horrible nightmare. 


But each time, the words Harry had said came haunting back at her. 


“There was nothing anyone could do.  Draco’s been… he’s dead, Hermione.” 


“There was nothing anyone could do.  Draco’s been… he’s dead, Hermione.” 


“… he’s dead, Hermione.” 


“… he’s dead, Hermione.” 

“… he’s dead, Hermione.” 


Dead. Dead. Dead. 


That one word seemed to keep repeating itself over and over again, as though it wanted to mock her. 


It wasn’t possible. There just wasn’t any possible way that any of this could be real. There had to be a mistake. That was the only explanation that there could be. 


And if there wasn’t, she knew there was no way that she could face the truth. The fact that it was her fault. If what Harry had said was true, that the person who had murdered Daphne had gone after Draco as well, then it was her fault. She made him promise to find them. And he had. Giving up his own life in the process.


She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, as she let the tears fall. It wasn’t until she heard a knock on the door that she stopped, frantically wiping the tears away from her face. 


“Come in,” she said, trying to make her voice sound as normal as possible. 


The door creaked open and she was surprised to see that it was George Weasley who was standing there. 


“What are you doing here?” she whispered, surprised to see him. While they had always been on friendly terms, she couldn’t recall a time when the two of them had had a conversation, just the two of them. 


Sitting on the edge of the bed, as though not to disturb her, he just sat there a minute before he started talking. 


“I heard what happened."


She listened, but didn’t bother looking at him. She didn’t think that she’d be able to ever look at anyone again. She knew that if she did she would do nothing but cry. And she had to stop, before there were no tears left. 


Undeterred, he continued to talk. “I’m probably the last person that you would expect to talk to you about this. But at the same time, I’m probably the best person to talk to about it.”


“What is there to say?” she whispered, as she clenched the quilt cover in her hand, and then she released it and smoothed it out with her hand, and then repeated the process. 


“Anything you want. I know you, Hermione. I have for ten years. I know that you have loads of feelings going on right now. And you need to get them out. It helps, I promise. You can cry, you can kick, or scream, do whatever you want. Yell at me. Scream at me. You can even kick me if you want. Because it’ll make you feel better.” 


“But you didn’t do anything.” 


“I know. But I also know how you feel. Maybe I didn’t lose a spouse, but I lost a brother. A twin. We were closer than brothers. We started off as womb mates.”


Then, before he could tell himself it wasn’t time for a joke, continued with “We started off as womb mates before we became room mates.”


When he said that, he couldn’t believe that the beginnings of a smile formed. Not much, but he could tell it was there. But as sudden as it had shown up, it was gone again. 


Finally looking at him in the eye, she said, “But it’s my fault. I made him promise to find them. And he was. Or maybe he did. But what does it matter now?” 


“Hermione, it wasn’t your fault. I can promise you that. In no way was this your fault.”


“How do you know that?”


“Were the one who did this?” 


She just stared at him blankly. 


“Or what about this? If you had tried to keep him away from the case and trying to find out what had happened, would that have done any good?”


She shook her head, knowing he was right. She had told Draco she wanted him to find out who did it, but she knew, deep down, that even if she had never said it, he still would have made it a goal for himself. 


“I’m not saying that your feelings are wrong. To be honest, it’s a normal feeling. And if you weren’t feeling that way, there would probably be something wrong. Because it’s only natural to hope and wish and believe that if you could or would have done something differently, that the people you love would still be safe.”


For a moment, neither said a word as they reflected on their own feelings. 


“Because for awhile I blamed myself every day for Fred’s death. I sat around and felt sorry for myself and wondered why it wasn’t me instead.”


Hermione found it hard to believe. The twins… they practically spelled out fun and humour. It was hard for her to see George being so serious. Or that there was even possibly a way that he could be feeling the same way that she was. 


“Then I realised… was I doing anybody any good by feeling that way? No. All that I was accomplishing was letting him die in vain. So one morning, I made myself get up, walk in to the shop, and open it up. It wasn’t easy. Especially since I could feel his presence everywhere in there. But the more that I did it, I felt better. It was something that he wanted. Maybe he wasn’t there to share it with me, but I could at least make sure that the dream that we had lived on.”


“But what does that have to do with me?” she asked. 


“Everything. I’m not saying it has to happen right now. You need time. I’m just saying that you can’t blame yourself.”


He stood up and walked to the door. 


“Just remember what I said,” he told her, as he closed the door behind him. 


She leaned back against the pillow and sighed. He was right. But it wasn’t easy.  

A/N: (slowly moves hand that has been covering eyes). Well, what did you think? Please don't hate me too much. There is still much more to come (the rest of Part 3, Part 4, and maybe a Part 5. At about ten chapters each, that's still a ways to go. And one thing I can promise, is that Draco is NOT gone from this story. All I can say, without revealing too much, is to trust me and keep reading! 

Again, thank you SO much for sticking with me this far. With 22 chapters and loads of reviews, nothing makes me happier. 

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Favorite |Reading List |Currently Reading

Back Next

Other Similar Stories

No similar stories found!