The Sweetest Sin

Chapter 8: The Only One

After dinner that evening, Hermione once again found herself leaving the dining table early. This time, it was because she wanted to go outside rather than stay confined in the house. Pansy was in a particularly bad mood for no real reason, and Hermione didn't want to be the subject of the other woman's temper. Therefore, she murmured an excuse and quickly left the dining room halfway through mealtime.

The moment the heavy door shut behind her, Hermione felt her muscles involuntarily relax. In only one short day, the garden had become her sanctuary. The cool night air washed over Hermione and the distant chirp of crickets was extremely soothing after hours of listening to Pansy shriek and complain. Stars twinkled merrily in the velvet black sky and the glow of the crescent moon was unmarred by clouds, leaving the dirt pathway clearly visible. Hermione stepped onto the winding trail and followed it until she reached the shore of the pond.

There, she stood for a many minutes, watching the slight ripples on the surface of the water distort the reflection of the moon above. Everything seemed so pure out here. There were no dirty muggles or mudbloods wearing filthy rags and stumbling over cracks on the street, no starving babies wailing for their mothers. Only out here could the last traces of good in the world be found.

At length, Hermione realised that the night was growing colder and her thin robe was barely enough to shield her from the dropping temperature. Shivering, she crossed her arms and hugged herself, trying to warm up.

"When did you find my garden?" came a quiet voice from behind her.

Hermione spun around to find Draco standing behind her, his hands in the pockets of his robe and his eyes focused on a point just over her left shoulder.

"I didn't realise you were there," she gasped, her heart pounding fiercely against her chest at the shock of the interruption.

Draco ignored her response and took a few steps forward to stand next to her. He was still looking off in the distance, and Hermione wasn't sure whether or not he had even heard her reply in the first place.

"So?" he asked.

"Oh," she said, blushing. "Earlier today."

"I see," he replied, his voice flat.

Silence fell between them and once again, the only sound that could be detected was the chirping of crickets. A part of Hermione was nagging at her to say something to relieve the awkward quiet moment, but Draco seemed content with not speaking and, since she wasn't exactly embracing the idea of talking to him, she therefore proceeded to remain quiet.

"Today was incredibly stressful. I despise attending weddings."

Hermione turned to Draco, somewhat dumbfounded. Could he get any more random?

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked bluntly.

"It's not as if I was going to tell Pansy; she's already enraged enough. I don't need her fussing about how antisocial I am."

"Oh."

Hermione waited a few moments for Draco to speak up again, but when he didn't, she decided it was the end of their conversation. Convinced that he was going to go back inside, Hermione began to edge forward closer to the pool of water.

"Where are you going?"

She turned around. "Is there anything else you wanted to say?" she asked pointedly, ignoring his question.

"No. I don't see why you can't handle a bit of silence every once in a while," he replied, looking slightly annoyed.

Hermione cocked her head to one side and blinked. This was all very odd. Not only was Draco being far more kind than usual, he actually didn't want her to walk away. Or so she got out of his response. "I don't like silence," she explained uncomfortably.

"Why not?"

"I...I don't know."

"So you dislike something for no reason then?" he inquired, finally turning to look at her. His mouth was set in a faint frown, but the darkness of the night hid his eyes from view.

Slightly taken aback, Hermione responded, "I suppose."

"That's not very practical of you."

"Who are you to preach me the ways of practicality?" she asked, now annoyed herself.

"I thought you were the always the logical one," he said quietly. "You never missed a chance to flaunt it in school. Have you abandoned that aspect of yourself?"

It took Hermione a moment to get over the surprise of him bringing up the topic of Hogwarts. When she did, she replied, "After the war I realised practicality doesn't exist in the human race, whether you're a muggle, half-blood, or pureblood. All the brutal things I witnessed proved it."

"Like what?"

"I don't need to explain them to you." And indeed Hermione didn't, because she remembered seeing clearly with her own eyes Draco cast the Crucio spell on a former schoolmate, Justin Finch-Fletchley, back in the early days of the war.

"I'm not that kind of person," Draco suddenly said as if he could read her mind. Unless Hermione was mistaken, his voice was quivering slightly. Had she said or done something that touched a nerve?

"That's very well for you then."

"Do you think I am?" he asked. Even though the top half of his face still shaded, she could feel his eyes piercing into her.

Hermione paused to think upon his question. It was not something she had expected he'd reply with, so she was caught by surprise once again. Why did he even care what she thought of him? After all, she was nothing more than a slave and an old school enemy to him. Well, since I care so little about his feelings, I feel no guilt in telling him the truth.

"Yes," she answered honestly.

Hermione heard him heave a great sigh and saw his shoulders slump just a little. Then, he said in a colder tone of voice, "Very well."

Now, Draco turned away, seeming determined to say nothing. Hermione bit her lip and debated whether or not she should voice the question that was bothering her. At last, she asked it.

"Do you think I dislike you for no reason?"

As if he had been expecting the question, Draco immediately replied, "I do."

Hermione pursed her lips. She wasn't sure what to think of his answer; after a second, she decided it was more arrogant than anything else. "Well, I have very good reasons for not wanting to be on friendly terms with you."

"You're wrong. All the reasons you believe are good enough to firmly back up your hatred of me are rubbish. They're your observations of me when we were children. Do you think I'm still the same person now as I was 3 years ago? You don't know anything about me, Granger." Draco's voice was beginning to rise and the fury in it was so evident that Hermione almost apologized.

"Maybe not, but I've seen the way you treat your wife and children. You act as if they're your slaves too. All Kathryn wants is to catch your attention, but you brush her off every time she tries. And Tommy - Tommy looks up to you. It's your job to teach him everything he needs to learn but no, you never even look at him, and see how he's turned out now." Hermione's anger also grew with each word she said until she too was nearly yelling. "And I don't hate you," she added, although she wasn't sure she was speaking the truth.

"Don't even attempt to tell me how to raise my children," he yelled. "You have no right to speak to me in a tone like that. This is not your house and it never will be." Draco was furious now; as he took a step closer to her, his eyes seemed to bore holes into hers.

"I don't care anymore," Hermione half-shrieked. She had lost her mind completely. "I don't care if I'm nothing to you, Malfoy. I'm human, probably even more so than you are, and I can voice my opinion if I want to. It doesn't matter whether I'm in your fucking garden or in Mudblood Town, I'll say whatever I think."

"This isn't your little fantasy world, Granger. Snap out of it. This is reality. I don't know how many times I need to tell you this before you understand - you have no rights here." He had dropped the volume of his voice a few notches, but if anything, he looked even angrier.

Hermione was so mad that all sense of reason had left her, so she simply spun on her heel and stomped toward a nearby willow tree.

"DON'T TAKE ANOTHER STEP," Draco suddenly bellowed from behind her.

Stunned, Hermione froze. She heard Draco's footsteps approaching.

"Never, ever touch that tree. I'll kill you in an instant if you do."

Hermione swallowed hard. She silently nodded. She didn't know what it was about the tree that was so sacred to Draco, but she did not doubt for one second that he would carry out his threat if she went against his orders.

"Come back over here."

Hermione did as he said. Once she had reached his side again, she quietly asked, "Why do you have so many secrets?"

He sighed wearily. All previous traces of animosity seemed to have been wiped away from both of them, and now the atmosphere had settled back down to what it had been like before their argument. It was like every word exchanged five minutes ago had never been spoken.

"I've experienced things," he said simply.

"So has everyone else," she pointed out, unsatisfied with his answer.

Draco shrugged. "They haven't experienced what I've experienced."

Hermione decided to leave it at that since it didn't look like she was going to get a clearer answer from him. "I guess I -" she started to say.

"I'm not the only one," he interrupted. He had once again turned to face her and this time, his entire face was clearly visible. The pale moonlight was reflecting off of his blonde hair and it gave him an unearthly glow which was enhanced by the fact that his eyes were, oddly enough, shining brightly.

"The only one?" Hermione repeated, confused.

"Who has secrets."

"Well, I know that, but you -"

"You have them too," he said softly. "I saw you one night a week ago. You were crying out in your sleep."

Hermione raised her eyes to his, completely shocked. "Y-you heard me?" she stuttered.

"Yes," he answered, still staring at her. "Tell me what it was you were dreaming of."

"No."

He tensed and for a minute, Hermione thought he was going to start yelling at her or worse, physically force her to tell him. Instead, he nodded. "I understand."

Hermione felt a tiny smile creep onto her face. This time, as their conversation stopped, the silence was much more welcoming and comfortable.

After what seemed like hours, she felt herself begin shivering again. Draco noticed as well, and he said in a flat voice, "You had better go inside if you're cold."

Hermione nodded. She hesitated a second before saying, "Good night." She waited for him to respond, but he did and said nothing. Shrugging, Hermione turned back around and headed into the house, leaving Draco standing alone.