In the Rain

The soft patter of rain sounded throughout the one-bedroom flat. A woman rose from a chair and cautiously walked over to her window.

Droplets of water splashed against the pane. Looking out at the beautiful sight before her, she fought to hold back tears, but lost the battle. As the tears trails on her face began to match those on the window, she was taken to a time of the past.

~

Hermione Granger sat alone in the Gryffindor common room, a text book in her lap. When the sound of the rain caught her attention, she put her book aside and went to the window. She admired the way everything shone in the moonlight. The trees in the forest, the grass, the lake. Glancing over it all, she noticed a figure by the lake.

She watched the figure for a while, guessing once they were wet enough, they’d come inside. But the person in the rain didn’t move.

She decided to find out what was going on.

Quickly and quietly, she made her way across the grounds, the water-repelling charm she performed keeping her dry.

She approached the person kneeling by the lake’s edge. Behind the large, dark, damp cloak with its hood pulled up, Hermione couldn’t tell who it was. But she heard something that sounded like crying.

She tentatively placed a hand on their shoulder and started when he did.

Grey eyes met hers. The same grey eyes in which she’d seen malice, hate, condescendence – but never tears. Now, his eyes seemed a bit less bright. Like part of him had broken.

“Malfoy?...” she whispered.

“What do you want, Granger?” he snapped. She could hear annoyance and shame in his voice as he turned away from her again.

“You’re crying. What’s wrong?” She was still whispering, disbelieving.

“Just – just leave me alone, mudblood!”

For some reason, the name didn’t sting as it usually did. Maybe it was the tears.

Now her voice was firm. “No. What’s wrong?” He shook his head, and she said, “I’m not leaving, Malfoy,” and knelt down beside him to prove it.

After a few more moments of silence, he lifted his sleeve, baring his left arm. Hermione gasped at the finger-shaped bruise she saw.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” he said absently, not looking at her. “You should see the ones on my back. Or on my mother’s…” He trailed off, seemingly talking to his arm. Then his head seemed to clear. “But can you see the Dark Mark there?”

He still didn’t look at her, but Hermione shook her head, mostly in disbelief.

“I can. Especially in my nightmares.”

That night, Hermione learned Draco and Narcissa Malfoy were beaten by their father and husband. She learned that Narcissa was forced to receive the Dark Mark, as Draco soon would be. She learned he was afraid; afraid of Voldemort, afraid of his father.

Silence followed his confessions and Hermione though about her preconceived notions as the rain echoed around them. Finally, she stood and offered him a hand up. He didn’t take her hand, but stood all the same.

They walked to the castle together. Once they entered the Great Hall, Draco began heading toward the dungeons and his common room. Hermione pointed her wand at his back and muttered a drying spell.

He froze, then said, “Thank you,” over his shoulder. She had a feeling he was thanking her for more than the spell.

The next morning before breakfast, Hermione sent an owl to Dumbledore. Later in the Great Hall, she received a response.

Please see me in my office when you’ve finished eating. I’ve recently taken a fancy to Licorice Wands.

Hastily, she finished her breakfast and left for the headmaster’s office, making excuses about visiting the library.

“Good morning, Miss Granger. Please, sit. Did you have a pleasant sleep?” she was greeted.

“To tell you the truth, Professor, not really.” Hermione explained what had happened the previous night and repeated what Draco had told her.

Dumbledore reluctantly deducted house points from Gryffindor and Slytherin for being out after curfew, apologized, then dismissed her, assuring her all would be taken care of.

When she returned to the common room after classes, she found another owl for her at the window.

Meet me tonight. Same time, same place.

It wasn’t signed, but she knew what it meant.

A few hours late found Hermione crossing the damp grounds after curfew once more. Draco wasn’t crying, but pacing.

When she reached him, he accused her. “You told Dumbledore?” Behind the incredulity, she could sense fear.

“Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard in the world! He’ll protect you!”

Draco shook his head nervously. “The Dark Lord is the most powerful wizard in the world.”

“Then why is Voldemort afraid of Dumbledore?”

He flinched at the name and fell silent as he turned his back on her.

“I want to help you,” she said softly.

He stiffened.

Finally he turned around. “Thank you,” he said, just as softly. “And I’m sorry I yelled. I’m just…” he trailed off.

“I understand,” she said, saving him another confession. “You’re welcome.”

The awkward silence that followed was broken by Draco.

“You think Dumbledore can stop what my father does to my mum?” And to me?

“I’m sure he can and will.”

Draco nodded.

“I’m, uh, sorry. For the uh – for what I’ve called you in the past. And, well, generally how I’ve acted toward you.” He stumbled over the apology as a slight red tinge colored his cheeks.

“Thank you,” Hermione said genuinely.

From that night on, a friendship grew between the two. Students were taken by surprise when their friendship became public. Eventually, most of the Hogwarts population warmed up to them. And Hermione loved the rain because of how close it had brought them, when they had been so far apart.

~

Though her tears were still falling, Hermione smiled at the memory and thought on to even happier times.

~

Saturday dawned a rainy day at Hogwarts. At lunch, Draco caught her eye. He raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question. She smiled and nodded.

A few hours later, Hermione strode through the rain and moonlight toward the familiar cloaked figure by the lake.

“And what exactly are you doing out in the rain at this time of night, Mr. Malfoy?” she asked jokingly, mimicking McGonagall.

Draco spun around, but relaxed with he saw his friend. “I thought I told you not to do that! You really do sound like her.”

She giggled. “Sorry.”

Draco placed his hands on her shoulder and suddenly sobered. “Hermione, you have changed my life, and probably even saved it.”

What’s he on about? she thought

“I wouldn’t give up your friendship for anything. But I – I’d like to be more.”

“What?” she asked, slow on the uptake for one of the first times in her life.

Before she knew it, his lips were on hers. Then he pulled back just as suddenly.

She stared at him dazedly. Then a smile crept onto her face. Relief was clear in his eyes.

Her eyes never left his as he leaned in again for a slower, deeper kiss.

~

The image of those entrancing grey eyes at that exact moment never faded from her memory. The picture of those eyes, full of love, only made more tears roll down her face.

~

The two left Honeyduke’s with sugar quills in their hands. It was their first Hogsmeade trip as a couple and their friends decided to leave them to each other. They had just begun toward the Three Broomsticks to meet up with Ginny and Ron when it started to rain.

Hermione squealed and Draco held his cloak over them as they ran to the nearest shop. As they ducked inside, they were laughing. They quieted and looked around. Hermione smiled at a balding man behind the counter. He seemed to be recording something, a red quill in his hand, poised over a thick book that lay open. He looked at them, slightly stunned.

“Hello, Mr. Scrivenshaft,” Hermione said softly with a smile. He smiled and nodded, then returned to his scribbling. She looked around the quiet quill shop. She and Draco were the only costumers. A set of quills and inks caught her eye.

The two quills were a deep mahogany, laced with gold. The inkwell they came with looked liked crystal and the ink inside it was black as pitch.

She felt familiar arms snake around her waist. “Those are pretty,” said his voice in her ear. She nodded.

“Not nearly as pretty as you though.”

Hermione blushed. No one except her parents had called her pretty. She turned in his arms and stood on tip-toe to give him a quick kiss. When she began to pull back, he didn’t loosen his grip. He kissed her again. This time it was long and deep, and she never wanted it to end –

They were interrupted by a throat clearing.

Hermione looked over Draco’s shoulder to see a red Mr. Scrivenshaft glancing up at her. She felt her cheeks grow to match his.

She gently unwrapped Draco’s arms from her and took his hand. She pulled him to the door and they stood in the small, covered, dry space right outside the door. She looked across the street and down a block to the Three Broomsticks. “Count of three?” she asked, then turned to look at him. He was staring straight at her, and she could see that he’d meant what he said in Scrivenshaft’s. He thought she was pretty. She blushed and turned away again. He took her chin by the hand and gave her a quick, soft kiss.

“Three, then?” he asked. She counted, then they took off at a mad dash towards the pub.

~

Hermione gave a slight chuckle at the memory, but knew it would soon darken.

~

During their seventh year, they were closer than ever. Each time it rained late at night, they would meet by the lake. They would enjoy spending time together and listening to each other.

On the night before the Hogwarts Express left for London – their last ride – it rained. Draco met Hermione that night.

When he wrapped his arms around her waist, she turned and slid her arms around his neck, gently pressing her lips to his. She pulled away and smiled. He smiled back, but she couldn’t help but notice it didn’t completely reach his eyes. He suddenly pulled her into a long, tight hug. Then he sat down against a tree. She sat down between his legs and leaned back into him, removing the repelling charm, as the tree was keeping them dry.

They sat in silence and he toyed with a strand of her hair.

“Uh, Hermione…” Draco finally broke the silence. “Listen. I love you. I hope you know that. The time we’ve spent together has been amazing. These past few years – these years with you have been the best years of my life. But Voldemort’s on the rise now that Harry’s leaving school. I evaded him, so I’ll probably one of his targets. At least one of my father’s. I have to go awa-“

The emotions inside her had been building until she couldn’t keep them in. “No! Oh, no!” she said as she stood. He stood with her. Anger, betrayal, sorrow, and violence were bubbling inside her, dying to be released. “You can’t break up with me! You can’t!” She was screaming now. “Pushing away the ones you love isn’t going to help anyone.” She was crying, screaming, jumping… “Do you know how much this will hurt? Do you know the pain I’ll go through every day? You can’t do this to me! No!” She had begun to beat his chest with her fists when she spoke of pain.

He grabbed her flailing arms by the wrists. She fell quiet, but cried harder.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know. I’ve loved you more than I’ve loved anyone, and it will be torture not being with you, but I can’t let myself put you in danger like that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I love you.” He softly kissed her forehead. Then he was gone.

She fell to the ground as hard sobs wracked her body.

~

After this memory, Hermione turned and slid down the wall until she was sitting on the carpet. She put her face in her hands and cried just as she had on that horrible night.

She hadn’t seen Draco since then, four year ago. She hadn’t seen him on the train home. She had no clue where he was. The last words he said to her were “I love you.” And that never changed.

THEEND