The Sweetest Sin

Chapter 17: In The Midst Of A Storm

What was that?

Hermione froze mid-stride, muscles involuntarily tensing as she slowly turned around to see what had caused the crash she'd just heard. Her eyes narrowed when she saw nothing but the empty hallway, thrown into shadows by the falling night. A person definitely made that sound.

Only a day had passed since Hermione had been cleared to return to her daily activities by the Healer. When she had returned to taking care of the kids, she had found that the atmosphere in the house had changed: Even though Kathryn was still as cheerful and innocent as ever, Thomas seemed to be brooding more than ever, and the only times Hermione had seen Pansy -- at meals -- she had always gotten the feeling that Pansy had wanted to tell her something but couldn't due to Draco's presence. Draco himself had taken to avoiding Hermione's eyes every time she walked by him, although there had been a new set of robes awaiting Hermione when she returned to her old bedroom.

Now, Hermione's mind fell back to the task of discovering the source of the noise. As she began to creep down the dark corridor, she found herself wishing she still was in possession of a wand. Sighing quietly, she continued on, keeping her eyes and ears alert for any movement or sound.

Just then, a sharp crack broke the silence and Hermione quickly stepped into a nearby empty room just as someone muttered, "Lumos." A blinding light suddenly illuminated the seemingly empty hallway and Hermione caught a fleeting glimpse of a pale hand clutching a wand before the light was put out.

Her heart pounding in her ears, Hermione waited before she heard muffled footsteps again. She then stepped out of the room and continued to cautiously pursue the mysterious person.

The person seemed to have stopped bothering to keep quiet, for now the previously-inaudible rustlings had grown quite loud. This helped Hermione greatly for it let her follow the intruder with more ease, though she continued to keep a comfortable distance between them.

At last, she heard the footsteps halt. Frantically, Hermione searched for somewhere to hide lest the person turn around. She caught sight of a large plant on the opposite side of the hall and dashed over to it. Ducking behind the plant, Hermione carefully pushed aside some of the leafy branches to make a peephole through which she watched the person move. Though the darkness prevented her from identifying him, she could still distinctly make out what he was doing.

Pulling out his wand again, the person murmured, "Formo Funis." A long rope fell out of the tip of his wand and landed on the floor. With a flick of his wrist, the rope began twisting itself into a crude ladder. A few more waves of the wand, and, save for the end of it which the intruder was holding firmly, the ladder wove its way out of a nearby window

Then, without further ado, the person stepped onto the window sill and began climbing the ladder. In the blink of an eye, he had disappeared.

Hermione's eyes widened. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she crept away from the plant and over to the window. With a rush of excitement, she saw that the ladder was still there.

Carefully, Hermione stuck her head out of the window and looked up. To her immense relief, the person had disappeared. Though she was aware that the rope could magically disappear at any second, Hermione eased onto the window sill and began to climb up the makeshift ladder.

The ladder led all the way up to the roof. By the time Hermione had reached the top, she was shivering. The night air was much colder than she had predicted and, with nothing but thin silk protecting her, goosebumps had quickly emerged on her arms and legs.

Now, Hermione took a deep breath and peered over the edge of roof. With a jolt, she realised that the person standing silhouetted by the light of the crescent moon was Draco.

Hermione's heart began pounding faster as she silently watched Draco. The night air seemed to grow even colder around her; a strong breeze swept by her, ruffling her hair and numbing her fingers, but she paid no attention to this. She was watching, with bated breath, as Draco pointed his wand at his other hand and muttered an incantation under his breath. A bright flare of light, and then a bundle of green flames seemed to snake out the tip of the wand and fall onto Draco's palm. The miniature fire immediately cast a greenish glow over Draco, making his facial features almost eerie. It seemed to be what Draco wanted for he smiled slightly and, with the miniature fire still resting comfortably on his palm, sat down against the side of the chimney.

The gusts of wind began to pick up in strength, and Hermione found that she was gripping the side of the roof so tightly to keep from falling that her knuckles had been drained of colour. Wincing, she relaxed and stretched one hand at a time, then returned to watching Draco with increased interest.

He was now pointing his wand at the tip of the flames and rotating it in small circles. In response, the small fire in his palm was now spinning very quickly in place, continually fading from one colour of the rainbow to another. Green, red, yellow, blue, violet, orange, indigo, then green again -- with each change, the next one came quicker so that within a few seconds, the colours were changing as rapidly as the flames were spinning.

As the flames flashed blue, throwing Draco's features into a bluish glow, Hermione caught a glimpse of something gleaming on his cheeks. Leaning forward as best as she could, Hermione squinted her eyes and, with a shock that left her mouth agape, realised that Draco was crying.

His sobbing was neither heavy nor light. He made no sound, but Hermione could see from the heaving of his shoulders and the tears streaming down his face that he was more than just a little bit upset.

Hermione was suddenly overtaken by the need to go over and say something. Draco looked so miserable, so pathetic, sitting there and crying silently; she felt like she had to go and at least attempt to relieve him of some pain.

Although somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice was insisting that it wasn't a good idea to reveal that she had been watching Draco all along, Hermione nevertheless pulled herself up onto the roof, straightened out her robe, and tread softly over to where Draco sat. Upon reaching a spot a short distance away from him, she stopped and, after some hesitation, coughed lightly.

Draco's jumped up so quickly it was as if he had heard a shotgun go off. It took him all but a second to register the sight of Hermione standing there before him, and when he did, a mixture of rage, shock, and humiliation crossed his face.

Furiously, he brushed away his tears with the back of his wand hand and growled, "What the hell are you doing up here?"

"I-I heard you...I thought y-you..."

"No, don't tell me," he snarled. His features, illuminated by the multicoloured fire, were twisted into an expression of pain. "You have no excuse for following me anywhere."

Before Hermione could respond, she felt Draco's hands fly out of nowhere and shove her roughly away. For one heart-stopping moment, Hermione teetered on the edge of the roof; then, she felt an invisible hand seize the front of her robe and pull her back onto her feet.

Gasping for breath, Hermione took a step forward, stumbled, and fell against the chimney. Her legs, which had lost all their ability to support her weight, gave away and she collapsed onto her knees.

Daring to lift her eyes up to Draco's again, Hermione saw that he had his wand pointed at her. Though she knew that meant he had saved her from toppling over the edge of the roof, the look in his eyes brought the words of thanks she had been on the verge of uttering to a halt.

Never before had Hermione been regarded with such anger, for Draco's grey eyes were brimming with cold, hard fury. It was so chilling an expression that Hermione felt as though her insides had frozen over. Yet though she was helpless to do anything but cower under his gaze, Hermione could almost certainly detect -- but no, it wasn't possibly -- a glint of fear in his eyes.

"I just...I just thought..."

"Get out of here," interrupted Draco angrily. His fingers crushed the still-rotating bundle of flames in his hand as he advanced menacingly towards Hermione.

Hermione did not back down. Instead, she stumbled to her feet and, without even knowing why she did it, bravely placed her hand on his forearm, saying shakily, "Malfoy, what's wrong?"

Draco's gaze flitted briefly towards Hermione's hand before he wrenched his arm away. "There is nothing wrong. Nothing that concerns you."

"I just want to --"

"To help?" he interrupted, his voice dripping with scorn. "No, you can't help me. No one can help me, especially not you. I didn't bring you here to help me sort out my life."

"I was told that I'm here to work for you," retorted Hermione. "I think 'sorting out your life' qualifies as working for you. Maybe if you wouldn't shut everyone else out, I wouldn't have to --"

"You know nothing about my life," interrupted Draco coldly. His angry demeanor had suddenly changed into one of contempt. "I've told you countless times that you have no right to stick your worthless nose into my business, yet you continue to forget that."

Suddenly, the words Draco had said to Hermione the other day resurfaced in her mind. 'You know, I thought I had forgotten the sound of her screams until two nights ago.'

"You see Iris when you look at me, don't you?" she blurted out accusingly.

His eyes widened. For a moment, he looked stunned, as if someone had just slapped him across his face. Then, he growled, "How dare you even --"

"So it's true," interjected Hermione. "Could this be why you hate me so much? Because I remind you of her? Is it because you can't stand to look at me -- oh yes, I know I look like her -- that you come up here and wallow in misery when everyone else is asleep?"

Hermione lowered her voice and softened her tone, then continued. "You don't hate me because you see her in me...you hate yourself for allowing yourself to, Malfoy."

By then, towering storm clouds had congregated to form a heavy shield that blocked out the moon's pale glow. Without the light of the bundle of flames, Hermione and Draco had been shrouded in darkness. Hermione saw this as she turned to look at him, for the majority of his face was no longer discernible against the velvet black sky behind him.

"You don't know how I feel about her...about you..."

"Yes, I think I do," whispered Hermione.

Just then, there was a bright flash of light and a small fire once again fell onto the palm of Draco's hand. He held it up between them, and his facial features were again illuminated by a ghostly green light. Hermione was surprised to see that his cheeks were wet with tears once more.

Draco stood for a moment, his eyes fixed on her. Finally, he closed his eyes. When he spoke again, it was in a distant, dislocated voice that Hermione almost didn't recognise as his.

"You look so much like her..."

"No, I don't," said Hermione softly. She felt tears begin to form behind her own eyelids, but she blinked them back. "I was never so beautiful."

Suddenly, Hermione felt a drop of water fall onto her arm. Startled, she looked up and realised that it had begun to rain. Fat droplets of rain were now falling at a steadily increasing pace. Within seconds, the two of them were drenched. Hermione's robe was clinging to her body uncomfortably and her wet hair dripped water into her eyes. She simply shook it back and continued to watch Draco.

At length, he opened his eyes. They were filled with sorrow, but at the same time, determination. Wordlessly, he leaned down. And though Hermione had somehow been expecting it, nothing could have prepared her for the moment their lips touched...

Even though she could taste the saltiness of his tears mingled in with the earthy taste of the rain streaming down their faces, the kiss was sweet. His lips caressed hers with a tentative gentleness she was unaccustomed to, but blindly, without thinking, disgusted with herself for it, she returned the kiss in a similar manner. It was not long before they broke apart, and when they did, the understanding of what had happened instantly hit Hermione like a strong gust of wind.

"That was wrong," she gasped, unravelling her hands from his soaked hair and bringing them to her lips.

Draco had pulled his arms away from Hermione's waist and was now staring fixedly at the green fire in his hand. His shoulders were shaking violently, but Hermione could not read his facial expression. Then, in a low voice, he said, "Don't...don't tell anyone that...happened."

Hermione furiously shook her head, only semi-aware that she was showering Draco with water droplets. The rain around them was still falling as heavily as ever as she replied, "Never."

Now, Hermione suddenly turned on her heel and began to run away. She slipped on the wet roof, but quickly regained her balance and began climbing down the rope ladder Draco had made without looking back. As Hermione descended the ladder, her insides ablaze with conflicting emotions, she happened to look up. There, in a window in the attic that overlooked the rooftop Hermione had just been standing on, was Pansy's pale face marked with what was unmistakably a look of pure shock.