All to JK
**
Draco paused for a moment and, heedless of surroundings or station for perhaps the first true time in his life, he simply stared at the girl before him, pondering her question.
An asshole?
Yes, that didn't concern him. He'd been through that a thousand times before. He was an asshole and he was good at it.
No, instead she had asked "Why do you act like an asshole?". She had implied, subconsciously or not, that his behaviour was an act. That at his core he might be something more. That there was a Draco separate from the persona she loathed and what was more, a Draco, by the way she was staring, that she wanted to know very much indeed. Could he find such a person? Could he be such a man?
Ginny cleared her throat and Draco was suddenly once again resident in the real world. Back in the library, amidst the debris, where the most pressing question should be escape, Draco allowed himself a wry smile at the loftiness and grandeur of his posteuring. At his core, the biting self-awareness that generated fathomless reserves of cruelty recognized that any such "noble Draco" would be as fictitious as "asshole Draco". He was a hopeless cause. He'd always known it.
Ginny was still looking at him patiently, apparantly still hoping for a response.
He shook his head and exhaled slowly.
"Ginny I am an asshole, there's no act. I'm a Malfoy and you're a Weasley. Lets forget all this rubbish and remember that we're enemies alright? I'm tired of playing nice. Lets just focus on getting out of here."
"Shut the hell up you pompous arrogant son of a niffler" she burst out, with not a little humour. "Don't give me all that rubbish."
"What makes you think you could ever understand me? What gives you the right to the expose?" snarled Draco, irked at her attitude which showed ominous signs of familiarity, of lack of fear.
"Because I'm here" she said firmly "and, more noteworthy, I've been here for more than ten minutes which makes me officially your closest friend at Hogwarts!"
**
Ouch. It seemed that one had touched another nerve. This nerve however, was not one which triggered an angry response. Instead, Draco seemed to deflate slightly in front of her, shrinking, his head dropping slightly, his pose dejected. It was a response that made Ginny's heart hurt to look at him.
"I didn't mean that" she said hurriedly.
Draco looked up and his eyes met hers. "Yes you did" he said quietly " and you were right."
Ginny held her breath, too scared even to move lest she interrupt.
"Weasley I've lived in a world you can't imagine. My father…" Draco broke off. "You've never had to live in a world where you are constantly trying to live up to something you can never achieve. Be constantly striving to improve and yet be knocked back every time. To-"
Ginny interrupted this monologue before he could get too far with a short incredulous laugh.
"Are you kidding?"
Draco looked angry she had interrupted, as though she were about to mock his confession.
"No, no" she hastened to continue "It's just…that's MY life!". She shrugged her shoulders wryly.
Draco was looking at her bewildered and somewhat disbelieving.
"Ginny Weasley" she introduced herself bitterly. "The youngest and most non-descript of the Weasley clan, sister to a cool treasure-hunter, two head-boys, the funniest two in school and Harry Potter's adventuring sidekick. You know the Weasleys right? We stand out because of our red hair and crazy Muggle-loving ideas. We campaign for honour and respect and we fight against evil and oppression…except for Ginny, no Ginny actually takes sides with Voldemort and manages to almost bring him back to life. You want to know about trying to live up to high expectations?" she spat "I wrote the book."
**
Draco had never actually considered it that way. Admittedly he never spent much time looking beyond the cage of his own anger at his situation but the little girl had a point. It was almost funny to think of it. He had more in common with this brat than he could ever have imagined. And she was right. She'd been more of an ally to Voldemort than he'd ever managed.
He smiled.
She smiled back.
Draco felt a flutter of something. A sudden dance of emotion like a piano scale across his nerves. His heart seemed to throw in an extra beat and he gasped to feel it.
"What?" she was asking.
"It's nothing" he said, running one hand distractedly across his chest, trying to dispell his disquiet. "It's so strange."
"What is?"
"You're right."
"About what this time?" she joked.
"Maybe we do have something in common after all" he admitted reluctantly.
"We have more than one thing" she whispered, looking around fearfully as another shower of dust spat its way into their hiding space.
"OK" said Hermione authoritatively, trying desperately to focus. "This is the plan."
"Right, good" said Harry, a little bemused.
"You have to use magic."
"I see"
"Without your wand"
"You lost me"
"I know you can do it Harry" she said simply. "What's more…you've done It before." She took one look at his confused face and continued. "Aunt Petunia wasn't it?"
Harry raised one eyebrow quizzically.
"I don't see how inflating you is going to help in this situation Hermione. Did you bang your head or something?"
"You can do it" she insisted stubbornly.
"Hermione it is way too risky! I have absolutely no control over my magic at times like that. Of all the places to practice I should think that this is the worst!"
She watched his denial, confident that he would see the sense in her proposal eventually.
"Harry, I didn't want to bring this up before but I can smell smoke, stronger all the time, the air is getting musty and the roof looks unsteady. We have to try something and we have to try it now."
"It's not going to work"
"Just try."
She watched him fight back the pain he must be suffering to concentrate. He sat up straighter, wincing as he dragged his legs up to support himself. He concentrated on the wall to their right, his intense gaze never wavering".
**
"Concentrate, concentrate" Harry muttered to himself. Whenever he had spontaneously performed magic before it had been prompted by rage, by circumstance. He tried to summon those feelings again. He forced himself to endure a mental slide-show of neglect, wading through memories of abuse and misery with the Dursleys and focusing the resultant rage towards the debris. Nothing.
It wasn't fair. He'd defeated Voldemort over and over and now he was entrapped by wood and stone, inanimate obstacles, and they were going to get the best of him! What was more, he was stuck here with Hermione. Hermione - don't look at her, concentrate - Hermione who had kissed him. He might die before he had a chance to tell her how he felt, well, to try and put into words this strange new internal cartwheel he suffered every time he looked into her eyes. He glanced at her now, blood smeared and teary eyed and he felt a deep anger ignite within him. The rubble around them began to tremble in response, small fractured splinters of wood beginning to re-align. Like the entrance to Diagon Alley, the mess about them began to re-order itself and then, it stopped.
"Harry you were doing it!" Hermione exclaimed joyfully, grasping him tightly to her.
"I can't do it" Harry said sadly. "I could feel it. It was like trying to fly in the face of a gale.
I'm not strong enough."
**
'He still didn't get it" thought Hermione in amazement. She felt a rush of sadness for the burden of his life. Despite his achievement he could never feel satisfied. He was never at peace. The haunting knowledge that his parents had given their lives for his left him seeking to repay a priceless debt.
"Harry, it's ok. Take a break. We'll try again in a minute-"
"You aren't listening Hermione, I can't do it."
"Harry we just have to-"
This time Hermione cut herself off mid-sentence in order to scream as the beam above her head suddenly worked its way loose and, splinters flying, chafed past the surrounding wood and paper to fall mercilessly down towards her. She cringed, instinctively ducking her head onto her chest and raised her arms above her with a gasp of terror.
The expected impact did not come. Tentatively she opened one eye and peered beyond her extended hands to see why. The beam was swaying about a metre above her head, menacingly threatening still. Confused she looked at Harry.
Eyes focused, facial muscles tense and with a single hand outstretched, Harry muttered through clenched teeth; "Now is the time to move Hermione!"
Please R+R, the characters will appreciate it because they'll get out of this mess sooner!