Neville's Party (Part Two)
Draco saw Harry well before Harry saw Draco, and while he and Harry weren't friends, he had already been on the receiving end of Harry's temper enough to know that look. Draco, though not scared of Harry, decided it would be best not to have Harry confront him there in the middle of Neville's party. Draco was trying really hard to like her friends and something told him, no matter who were at fault, Hermione's friends would side with Harry over Draco any day.
"Where are you going?" Hermione asked as Draco darted away from the hearth at a break-neck speed. She chased after him, the two of them ending up in Luna and Neville's small but cozy kitchen.
"I just, eh, needed something to drink," Draco lied as he poured himself a glass of water from the tap. Hermione narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.
"I know you better than that, Draco," Hermione said. Draco rested back against the counter top and looked at her. He hated admitting that despite his prejudice, and despite his beliefs, he really was taken with her. He shook his head, not wanting to think about that. Hermione would never, could never, be his. She had made that clear over and over again, and the one time they were together…
`No! Don't humiliate yourself by thinking of that night again. She cried out for him, not you, and she didn't even know she could cry out for him that way,' Draco screamed at himself enraged while a smile crossed his face. He crossed his own arms and smirked at her.
"You boyfriend Potter," Draco said simply. Hermione's mouth made a little circle and she shook her head.
"Damn it, Draco. This is not a good time for him to be doing this. Not when we are so close," Hermione whined. She slumped forward into his arms, Draco willingly taking her. He patted her back soothingly.
"Shh, I know," Draco said softly. "Soon, this will be all over."
"Do you really honestly believe that?" Hermione said rather frustrated. She wiped her eyes with her hand for good measure, incase the tears that she was bottling up had spilled over their levies.
"I hope so. I have to," Draco said quietly. "Do you think I like things the way that they are? This is hell."
"Well, at least we know this is it, right? After this month, there are no more chances, none more," Draco said. He tilted her chin back so that she was looking at him. "You have been great. Phenomenal. I know this is it. I can feel it. The end is near, and you have been better than great. I know I couldn't do it without you."
"I know, but it hasn't been easy," Hermione said softly. Draco nodded in agreement as he felt himself drawn to her mouth.
"Nothing worth it is easy, Mione," Draco said breathlessly as his mouth met hers.
"What the hell!" Harry screamed as he burst into the room.
Draco had the perfect time to draw his own wand and duel with Harry, but instead chose to finish the kiss he had been itching to have with Hermione all evening, well for a while to exact. Harry threw his wand to the side as Draco moved Hermione quickly behind him. Harry was enraged, his fists clenched in bitter anger.
"Harry!" Hermione cried out rather guiltily.
"You git, I am not here to hurt her, I am here to hurt you," Harry yelled. The apartment became rather quiet for the number of people that were in there.
"Maybe you and I should step out side?" Draco drawled slowly as he retrieved his wand. Snatching up his own wand, Harry growled a response and the two stalked out the front door
"Since you seem so fond of muggles and muggle-borns, perhaps we should duke this out like the muggles do," Harry growled at him as the two men stood at the street. Hermione couldn't take it any longer and placed herself between Draco and Harry, her hands on their chest.
"Please, please don't do this," Hermione cried. "Harry, Draco, please don't do this."
"Afraid I will hurt your boyfriend?" Harry sneered, a look worthy of Draco Malfoy. Draco's own smile became more corrupt and sinister.
"I'm game if you are, Potter," Draco said as he held his wand out to Neville. Nervously, Neville took Draco's wand. Harry hesitated. "What? Scared Potter?"
"You wish, Malfoy," Harry replied. It was their second year all over again. They were going to duel in front of a group of their peers, this time Draco didn't have the advantage of more magical knowledge. Physically, they were equals. Harry handed his want over to Neville as Draco removed his tie and rolled up his sleeves.
"Damn it, Draco! Don't do this!" Hermione swore. He refused to look at her. She turned to Harry. "Please, Harry, don't do this."
"Move," Harry barked. Hermione looked as if he had slapped her, but she stepped aside. She crossed her arms and stood between Neville and Luna, both of which wrapped their arms around her shoulders.
"You shouldn't talk to Hermione that way," Draco warned. Harry scowled at him.
"So now you are all Mr. Manners," Harry laughed bitterly. "After you called her a Mudblood in our first year?"
"Wasn't that our second year?" Draco mocked. Harry swung first, hitting Draco hard in the face. Draco swung back, hitting Harry.
"You promised!" Hermione shouted at them. "Stupid boys! You both promised me!"
Harry could hear her, and he felt bad about going back on his promise to Hermione. After all, he knew he loved her beyond even his own life. He knew she was right; he shouldn't be fighting Malfoy. It wasn't like him to loose control so badly, but each time his fist came in contact with Draco was one more happy moment in his life.
They were probably going to kill themselves, and Hermione couldn't stand it any longer. By this point, there were wrestling on the ground, in a duel head lock, their blood mixing and tingling with the dirt and gravel of street. Hermione had enough; she walked to them and almost effortlessly removed them from their angry embrace.
"That is enough!" Hermione shouted. Her face was red from anger, and she held them apart with her bare hands. They weren't struggling to get back to fighting: bloody, beaten, and bruised. Hermione looked as if she was about to start crying.
"Mione," Harry and Draco both said. She pushed them further away from each other.
"No! That is quite enough. Are you happy now? You both fought, and you both are stupid," Hermione said angrily.
"You don't know what he did," Harry shouted at her, unable to take it any longer. He pointed at Malfoy, as if he was pointing a wand for an evil spell. "He modified our memories, Mione! He did it. He is the reason I can't remember being with you, and he is the reason I can't remember Ava."
"Harry," Hermione said sympathetically.
"No, damn it Hermione, listen to me," Harry said nearly frantically as fat rain drops began to fall from the sky, adding to the murmurs that seemed to erupt among Neville's guests.
"No, you listen to me Harry," Hermione snapped. She had her hands on her hips and her back against Draco, as if holding him back. "You broke your promise to me. You just promised, you swore you wouldn't hit Draco."
"So now you are defending him?" Harry demanded. Hermione's eyes brimmed with tears.
"You don't know what you are talking about, Harry," Hermione said angrily. Draco dropped his gaze from Harry and instead focused on Hermione.
"You and I were once in love. I know we still are," Harry choked out. His throat felt like it was closing up. "You can't choose Draco."
"You think I want to choose Draco?" Hermione cried incredulously. "You can't begin to even understand. When I am with him…"
"Hermione," Draco murmured as he pulled her into his arms. She shook in his arms and Harry had his answers. He felt his heart shatter into a million pieces and the piece fell into his stomach. He felt like he was going to be sick.
"Just so you know, Hermione, when you want to know the truth about you and me, and what he did to us, come find me," Harry said callously. He took his wand from Neville and smiled apologetically. "Sorry for this, Neville."
Harry disappirated back to the front step of his house and stood there a moment as the hot tears that were streaking down his face mingled with the cool rain that had become a steady down pour. Harry didn't care that he was getting soaked, rather hoping he would get chilled so to distract him from the anger and hurt in his heart. Maybe some one would take pity if he up and got sick, or maybe even died.
`You are pathetic, Potter,' Harry growled at himself. He pushed the door open finding that the vacant feel of the house mirrored the vacant coldness of his heart. Kreatcher was there, waiting and it seemed to Harry at the moment that the house elf was the only person in the world ever happy to see Harry come or go.
"Kreatcher, a drink if you will," Harry growled as he pulled his wet clothes off there in the hall. Kreatcher gathered his clothes and scurried to fetch Harry something that would warm him. Kreatcher found Harry alone in his bedroom, wearing a pair of gym shorts and nothing else. The air was cool, and Harry was sitting on the edge of his bed. Kreatcher pressed the cup into Harry's hand and made short work of starting a fire in the fireplace.
"Thank you Kreatcher," Harry said after the room began to warm. He had sipped his drink, but not wanting to look like hell or not be able to make it to work in a timely manner the next day, Harry did not finish the drink. Kreatcher bowed and took the drink from him.
"Anything else, master?" Kreatcher asked hopefully as he looked at his master's bruised and battered face.
"Nah, I'll live with these," Harry murmured as he lay back on his bed. He closed his eyes a moment, thinking maybe if he willed himself to sleep and never wake, he would be just as happy. Harry felt pathetic for feeling so sorry for himself. He opened his eyes and looked up at his father's picture. It was ridiculous. His father certainly never pined for anyone like Harry was pining for Hermione.
Harry tried to push the thoughts of Hermione out of his head and tried to think of anyone else, including Ginny, anything to wash Hermione's lips from his lips. He wished someone would come and obliviate him right then and there. There was no sense in him wanting Hermione if she wanted to be with Draco. There was nothing good to come of how Harry felt.
Harry knew he needed to go to sleep if he was going to be of any good to anyone that next morning. He had planned to visit the Burroughs soon with Ron, and they needed to catch up their department a bit before they decided to do that. He was curious to see how Molly was getting along after Arthur had passed away. Harry rolled to his other side, hoping to shut his mind off, but yet it twisted and spun in the silence of the night.
`Hmm… it is really coming down hard out there,' Harry thought as he listened to the rain pelt the glass paned windows. Harry sighed and climbed out of bed. It was now too hot in his bedroom, he could feel the heat in his cheeks and arms, and his legs felt constrained in his shorts. Harry slid out of his gym shorts but opted to keep his boxers on, for reasons unknown to even him. He felt vulnerable enough without everything hanging out in the open.
All Harry wanted to do was sleep, so it seemed not to surprise him when he was still awake another hour later. He tossed and turned in his bed, tangling his covers. He got up and shook the sheets, thinking about the undetectable crumbs that seemed to irritate him to know end. Sighing he sat in the window seat, pressing his face to the cool glass as he looked out over the yard. He wondered what Ava was doing right then.
`Sleeping you idiot, like you should be,' Harry replied to himself with a rather irritated thought.
`Huh, and Hermione was probably asleep, too?' Harry asked himself. Figuring if he was finally cracking up, at least he would get some answers.
`Probably with Draco.' Harry replied taunting. `She is probably laying there in his bed, underneath them, clothes forgotten on the floor...'
`I don't want to know this,' Harry growled to his inner voice. The little taunting voice in his head laughed.
`So, you don't want to know how he is kissing her deeply, like you used to,' the voice teased his mind.
`Rather not, actually,' Harry moaned as he brought his fists to his temples, squeezing his head between them.
`Does it hurt to know your enemy, the one who took all memory of her out of your coconut, is probably screwing her right there in Malfoy Manor?' The voice taunted laughing coldly.
"Damn it!" Harry shouted as he tapped the sides of his head with his wrist to silent the voice that was torturing him within. It wasn't fair. His body betrayed him and he had kissed Hermione there in the bedroom. Now his mind was taunting him with images of Hermione and Draco in the throws of passion. Each scene was different, more graphic and a cruel reminder to Harry what Draco had, and what Harry did not.
"This is not fair!" Harry shouted at his reflection as he stood in front of the mirror. He heard a laugh and saw his reflection laughing at him. Harry shook his head. "Well, it's not! I love Hermione, and I was with her! We could have been a family this whole time, but Draco removed all memory of her from my mind. It's just not fair!"
The mirror continued to laugh, so Harry did the only thing he could think of doing and punched the mirror, the glass splintering from the impact. Harry felt bad immediately, knowing the mirror had belonged to Sirius and Harry had gone and broke it. He hoped that Kreatcher would be able to mend it. Harry was on his way to get a towel to soak up the blood from his hand, his third or fourth time shedding blood for unrequited love, when he heard a sound down stair.
`Must be the rain,' Harry thought as he got the towel and wrapped it around his hand. He headed back to his room, when he heard the sound again and then a quiet knock. It was the knock of someone who wasn't trying to intrude, but still to gain access. Harry tip toed downstairs, curious. It had to be two or three in the morning. Nerves twisted as his hand reached for the wrought iron handle of the clapboard door and he pulled it open.
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