Basketcase

Basketcase

'In the quickness of our haste

It seems we forget how to live

The old blueprint

No longer manifests itself

As the correct way to exist....

...Our individual roles we think

Not so important to the plot

The big picture unseen

Leaving life in between

Destroyed and overwrought....'

--No Doubt, World Go 'Round.

Chapter Two: Music from a Pureblood

Hermione left the Great Hall with an ache starting to form inside her head, and her body thirsting for some sweet, restful, and satisfying sleep. She had had trouble keeping her eyelids open, for they seemed to be getting heavier by the moment. Her mind was slow, her thoughts were lagging, and her ears were shutting and tuning out. Hermione sighed.

She looked down the corridor wearily, her feet dragging as she made her way. The lit torches flickered and danced, causing shadows to chase them amongst the walls. The halls and corridors were deadly quiet, and for once, she wanted it to be anything but quiet. She was afraid that she would suddenly fall asleep before her next step and fall on the floor right on her face.

Her mind was too tired to think of any suggestions or plans at the moment for Dumbledore's latest idea. Though the meeting hadn't taken long, a mere hour and a half, her exhaustion caught up with her quickly as she sat there and listened. By the end of the meeting, she would have run out for her desperation to get to bed, but she was far too tired to even lift her feet that quickly, let alone gather up what energy that hadn't already wilted into drowsiness and fatigue.

Of course, through the whole meeting, she avoided looking in Draco's way, for fear of catching his eye and then becoming helplessly trapped inside his firm gaze. At that thought, Hermione surprisingly felt something tingle up her back, causing her to widen her eyes and try and shake away the irresistible lullaby that was filling her ears.

"Oh," she sighed. "This bloody sucks."

At the meeting, though Hermione had wanted to ask questions for she knew that the answers would be vital in making Dumbledore's plans work, she was too tired, and as if God up in Heaven had notified Draco, he had asked all the questions she had wanted to. He had the same drawl, but she could hear curiosity and determination in his voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she had seen him nod as Dumbledore informed him.

'No wonder he's Head Boy,' a voice in her head said. 'He's brilliant.'

Hermione, too tired to retaliate and just not in the mood, just nodded lazily.

Hermione ascended a flight of stares, as the Portraits looked at her, concerned and curious.

"Merlin, dear girl," a man said. "Whatever happened to you?" Hermione just sighed and ignored the rest of their comments, as she focused on getting to her room safely and successfully. Just then, she halted in the middle of the stairway, as a thought was suddenly voiced in her mind. She raised her arm and took a look at her wristwatch.

Hermione groaned, as she threw her head back and sighed frustratingly, which earned more questions and calls from the very attentive Portraits.

"It's only bloody nine?" she said to herself, irritated. "How could it only be bloody nine o'clock?" She heard a few answers and rude remarks from the Portraits, but she only sent them a glare before heading on.

Hermione's mind started to feel as if it was overheating, as she suddenly remembered her agenda. She still had to finish her Transfiguration assignment that was due two weeks from now, not to mention the Potions Research Essay on both a serum and a lethal tonic. Oh, and the planning and design for Dumbledore's bright idea, the hiring and searching, recruiting and meetings for such a thing. Hermione sighed again, as she urged her feet to get on faster.

How could she feel so tired when it was barely curfew? She just didn't understand. She had had a good and fair amount of sleep for the past few months, with the exception for a few all-nighters, but it was nothing she couldn't handle before. Of course, there were the patrols and more responsibilities that weighed heavily upon her shoulders that she hadn't had the past years, but she was positive it wasn't something that'd drive her to the edge. After all, she had been a Prefect, and that had been a breeze. How could being Head Girl be any harder or different?

"Hermione?" She watched as she just noticed Ginny descending the flight of stairs she was walking up. Hermione smiled weakly.

"Hey, Ginny." Ginny stopped in front of Hermione, looking at her with a worried expression.

"Hermione, are you alright? You look a bit..."

"Like a bloody mess?" Hermione finished off for her. Ginny nodded, peering at Hermione and making sure she wasn't hurt or about to faint any second now. Hermione sighed, running a hand through her now frizzy locks.

"I went to a meeting with Malfoy and Dumbledore...." Ginny nodded, suddenly understanding.

"Oh. Malfoy was that bad?" Hermione opened her mouth, but closed it, contemplating her answer.

'Was he really that bad?' she asked herself. Finally, a voice in her mind shattered her insane questions and Hermione was suddenly aware of Ginny clearing her throat.

"Yeah," Hermione said quickly, ignoring the look Ginny was giving her. "You know, the usual 'Mudblood' jokes and 'Oh I think I'm so bloody good looking and better than everyone.'" Ginny nodded, but gave her a knowing look.

"Well, then, I heard Dumbledore had some pretty big news."

"Where did you hear that?" Hermione asked, curious.

"Oh, you know, gossip." Hermione nodded, sighing silently.

"Oh," Hermione said.

"Are you going to be owling us for a meeting anytime soon?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah, you can be certain," Hermione said. "Dumbledore's plan is going to take a lot of planning, the irony of it all. And we're going to have to work on it as soon as possible, so we can get it out to the public right away." Ginny nodded.

"Well, that sounds exciting," she smiled. Hermione smiled back at her. She remembered that Ginny had been one of the few people who had never held a grudge against her in those past hectic times, and Hermione was glad to have Ginny so close. She certainly couldn't stand being around Harry and Ron sometimes, and she could never talk casually with Parvati or Lavender without them pestering her about her personal life. Ginny was good to be around with, though at times she could be a bit too boy-crazy. But, all in all, Hermione didn't mind.

"Yeah. I guess so. Well, I better get on going. I've got to study and do my Transfiguration and Potion assignments.... Not to mention think about the meetings and plans." Hermione sighed. "You have a good night, okay, Ginny?" Ginny nodded, still smiling.

"Yeah, I will. I'm patrolling the corridors tonight, and that won't be so hard. Just promise me you won't study all night, okay? All those all-nighters can't be good for you, Hermione," she said worriedly. Hermione was grateful for her friend's concern.

"Alright, Ginny. I'll see you tomorrow," Hermione said, and they said their goodbyes and headed to their destinations.

Hermione reached her room, feeling oddly refreshed a bit and not so drowsy as before. She was a bit puzzled, for one minute she had been ready to collapse from her lack of energy, and the next, she was feeling... fine.

She set down her book bag neatly on her scarlet-sheeted bed, as she undid the buttons of her robes and shrugged it off, relieved to finally step out of those dreadful, heavy robes. She shook up her hair, frowning at the frizzy ends as she slid her fingers down her strands, inspecting the condition. She shook her head and scolded herself for wasting her time on thinking about such a silly thing, when she had such a filled and overloaded schedule for the rest of the evening.

She undid her tie and set it beside her robes, as she carefully but absentmindedly pulled off her sweater. She unbuckled her Mary Janes, and slid them off, placing them at the foot of her dresser filled with waving pictures and a very few assortment of perfumes and hair products. She reached over for a hair tie and put her hair into a neat ponytail, before opening a drawer and grabbing a crisp, fresh new pair of light pajamas. She unbuttoned her shirt and slid off her skirt and socks, before dressing into her pajamas and then opening her book bag to take out her textbooks.

She smiled weakly as she held her Potions and Transfiguration textbooks, along with lengthy and precise notes needed for her assignment. She headed over to her desk, putting it down neatly to the side and then picking out a fresh piece of parchment and a quill, before uncapping her ink bottle.

She sat down, making sure she was comfortable, before she decided to do her Transfiguration essay first, and then reaching over for her book and drawing out her notes. She muttered to herself as she flipped over to the correct page number, and then looking over at her notes once again.

"One foot and a half to... two scrolls of parchment...." Hermione smiled faintly at this. This was going to be fairly easy. She knew the subject well and she knew it down to the specific facts, and one foot and a half of text about it was far too easy. Licking her lips, she picked up her quill and dipped it in her ink bottle, before getting started.

Once she finished her Transfiguration essay, an exact two scrolls of parchment, she went back over it, rereading it carefully if she misstated any facts or misspelled any words. When she had reached the final word, she set it aside and reached for another piece of parchment and her Potions book. Biting her lip, she began to work.

Hermione smiled to herself with pride swelling inside her, as she finished rereading both of her finished Potions essays. She put away her quill before clapping her hands in joy, glad to have finally finished with her required homework. She hummed to herself cheerfully as she carefully put away her parchments and textbooks, standing up and walking over to pack them in her book bag, as not to forget to pack and hand it in when it was due.

Hermione was feeling a bit tired, but not so much, as she looked over at her clock. The hands were set at 12:15, and she thought to herself.

'It isn't all that late. I could still pack in an hour or so for reading and studying.... We've got that test in Herbology in three weeks....'

But as she yawned and stretched, she realized that her body felt a bit... worn out and drained.

'Well, this won't do,' she said to herself. 'I could take a short and relaxing bath... that ought to make me feel better.'

So with her mind easily tempted and swayed by the idea of a soothing and calming bath, she promised herself that the reading and studying bit would come afterwards, when she was feeling refreshed and comfortable. Hermione got up and grabbed her towel, before heading out of her room.

The common room was empty, as she looked around the luxurious and spacious room filled with rich colors of silver and crimson. She knocked on the bathroom door, and when no reply came, she twisted the knob and went in.

She stripped off her clothes in anticipation for the soothing affects of the bath, after she picked out fragrant and lavender colored bubbles that soon poured out and filled the bath. She sighed dreamily, inhaling, as the scent of lilacs and sweet flowers drifted and filled the room. Once she turned off the silver, classy faucet, she slipped in and closed her eyes as she leaned her head back.

"Oh Merlin," she whispered distantly. "This feels good." The warm liquid eased and relieved her tense muscles and shoulders, as the aromatic smell pacified and cleared her mind of any stressing or demanding thoughts. She knew that this was just what she needed.

After she had climbed out and dried herself, she drained the bath as she watched the bubbles swirl in a circular movement as they suddenly vanished. She slipped on her pajamas and ran her fingers through her hair, before putting it up into a loose knot at the base of her neck.

She looked at herself in the mirror, as she was putting up her hair. She sighed longingly, her eyes exploring her features with a sad glint.

There were a few light freckles sprinkled across her nose; her lips tinted a dark, faded pink color. Her hair had grown out of their bushiness and were now in soft waves in a shade of brown that was not too dark, but not even anywhere near a dark blond. It was a color that was in the middle of the many shades of brown, and frankly, she had always liked her hair color. Over the summer, her mother had tried to convince her to put in some streaks of blond or a lighter color after her haircut, for she had said it was 'time for a change,' but she refused and told her mother that she saw girls on the streets of London who had the same exact idea of getting highlights, and that she was not going to follow that hair craze. Luckily enough, her mother finally gave up due to her stubbornness and left her alone. Her bangs were parted in the middle, and were swept towards her ears, so they were not as bothersome as they had been in first or second year. Her eyes were a dark and deep brown in contrast to her hair, and her skin was rather pale and absent of a summer tan that was common amongst her peers, from staying inside to read and study all summer.

Hermione bit her lip, staring at her reflection. She was... simple looking, plain in a way that was not longer seen in her generation. The girls her age liked to dress provocatively and dressed that way for seduction for any handsome looking fellow that they happened to come across. Hermione frowned. She wasn't like that at all. Yes, there were times she liked to dress up for any special occasions, like maybe a dinner party or the balls and dances they held here at Hogwarts, but besides that, she dressed... plain. She didn't wear skimpy or tight outfits that bared her midriff or breasts, and resisted to swim in the current that the media was hypnotizing them to dive into. Though she was a bit resentful at times and she saw the look on her mother's face when she would clarify that she had no boyfriend every single summer (Krum was never really a boyfriend, she reminded herself), she didn't think she could ever pull off such a thing that was not her true self or style.

Her reflection smiled reassuringly at her, and Hermione felt her heavy heart suddenly become a bit lighter.

She liked being plain in a sense that people would look at her as if she was the last of her kind. She shouldn't care if boys never really took the effort to romance her or let her know that she needn't change for him. And she shouldn't feel pressured into dressing that way to catch someone's eye or get a bloke to approach her.

'The right bloke will come,' she reassured herself, reminding herself of all the times she would longingly watch those couples holding hands, kissing and laughing when she took a walk out on the Holidays. 'He'll come in the right time, and he'll like me just the way I am. I'll not have to worry about these silly things again.'

Hermione smiled at herself widely, embarrassed to think such things but could never deny it. She worried about other things than schoolwork and grades, though people tend to overlook the fact that she was just like them if they ignored her smarts or perfect test scores. Over her years here, she had gotten used to the fact that people thought of her as different, but she was still determined to prove to them that she wasn't. But at her last year here, in the month of January in the early midst of the year, she still hadn't accomplished such a goal. She wasn't sure if she could, anymore.

She took one last look, neither very pleased nor unsatisfied, just merely content, before she walked out of the bathroom, towel in her grasp. But as she was crossing the common room, she passed Draco's room, and froze as she heard a peculiar noise.

Her toes shifted against the lush carpet, as her ears strained to make out the noise. She heard it again. It had been very soft at first, but this time it was louder. It was familiar....

She turned her head and faced his door, her eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement and curiosity. She was only feet from his door, as she stepped closer. She heard it again... and it continued, until it stopped again, into dead silence.

Just then, as she stood and waited, she heard the noise play continually, she widened her eyes in surprise as she recognized the noise. The radio, her cousin, the television set to those music channels.... She was shocked beyond words, as her thoughts frantically scurried to come together to make sense.

This time, it didn't stop. It played continually, note after note, playing a beautiful melody and tune.

It was... a guitar. An acoustic, judging from the quiet and faint strums. A Muggle instrument, the same she saw in the clutches of bands and solo artists, and her musician cousin. She heard the notes change and play slowly but smoothly, turning into an unfamiliar but slow and dreamy harmony.

She was having a very, very tough time believing her ears. This was Draco Malfoy's room. The same Draco Malfoy who hated Muggles and Muggle things, not to mention her. Maybe... it wasn't him who was playing.

She wrinkled her forehead, and then shook her head. No one else could get in there; though Draco acted superior and noticeably hinted that he had bedded many girls from here - Hermione shuddered and cringed at the thought - she knew that he valued his privacy and room, the most rewarding perk of being a Head, and he wouldn't give out his password to anyone here at Hogwarts. Hermione had the insinuation that this school was not really his favorite place, from the bored looks on his face during his class and the fact that she had seen him scowl one too many times at Dumbledore and the professors. It surprised her that he did so good in his academics, seeing his distaste for the school and the people associated with it, but it was not so surprising at the same time, since she knew that Lucius Malfoy had raised Draco to be the absolute best at everything. Rich families had standards to live up to, and there was no doubt in her mind that Draco was disciplined to follow them.

But of course, that didn't change the fact that Draco Malfoy was playing the guitar... and he was bloody good at it, too.

She stood, frozen, outside his door, listening and eating up every single chord he played. She could picture his pale but soft fingers sliding against the strings and his other hand strumming flawlessly. She could see the dim darkness in his room, his window open and playing only by the moonlight, and his silver-blond, silky hair falling across his eyes.

It seemed that though the shock had not completely faded away just yet, she found her mind entranced by the music flowing from inside his room.

Just then, her eyes widened and then she closed her eyes tightly to chase away the dreamy tune and her appalling, insane thoughts. She swore at herself silently, as she turned away from the music and his door, determinedly walking back to her room and closing the door firmly behind her.

She bit her lip as she stood with her back pressed against the hardwood of her door, still swearing and scolding herself.

'That's Draco Malfoy!' her mind screeched. 'Draco Malfoy! You were thinking about him, Draco Malfoy, that way! Just what in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?'

Hermione bit down on her lip harder, as she pushed against the door in frustration, an angry sigh escaping her lips.

'In what way?' she retaliated. 'It wasn't as if I was daydreaming about him or thinking of snogging him! I was just thinking about him playing the bloody guitar!'

'Yeah, well, that's the first step.'

'The first step to what?'

'You know....'

'Oh, just bloody shut up. Don't say it. Don't you dare.'

'... First, it's thinking about him... And then denial... and then it adds on and gets so bloody complicated... And the next thing you know, you're looking after him longingly and you're left with a broken heart....'

'Shut up! SHUT UP!'

Hermione flung herself on her bed, as she let out a loud and aggravated sigh. Her teeth were clenched, her mind would not stop accusing and screaming at her.

"This is ridiculous," she said to herself irritably. "Bloody ridiculous."

In an effort to leave all this behind, she got off of her bed and picked up her textbook for Herbology, before heading back. She collapsed with her pillow cushioning her head, as she opened her book to a random page and read the contents quickly.

But as her eyes read, the words were nonsense to her mind and did not reach her at all. The same dreamy melody played in her mind distinctly, gathering all of her thoughts in its corner. Hermione kept reading, and she flipped the page, determined.

But as she read over five pages, she realized that she could not remember or recall what information she had read at all. She sighed again, angry with herself and her stubborn mind. Her hands held the book above her face, blocking the light and sort of dimming her view.

"Damn," she said to herself, harshly. "Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it!" She threw the book down beside her, as the bed bounced softly and shortly, and she raised her hands to her hairline, grasping tightly. She wanted to scream at herself and make her forget the last few minutes. That damned song kept playing over and over in her head, mercilessly grasping her heart with its two, strong hands.

She lay there, motionless, contemplating angrily and resisting the sudden urge to go back into the common room and listen. She closed her eyes, seeing the distracted darkness that resided within her eyelids in a brightly lit place. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself and voicing out her reasons.

After a few minutes, her eyes flew open, and without another word, she had gotten off of her bed and walked out of her room, and into the common room. She tuned out her thoughts, as she sat down on the couch nearest his door, and was relieved to hear that he was still playing. It was the same song. It was well defined and graceful, and Hermione knew well enough that he was indeed very skilled. She stared at his bare door for a while, before closing her eyes and letting herself fall in sync with the music.

It was soothing, powerful and determined. It was a slow and meaningful melody, one maybe made for a goodbye, a meant apology, or love. Hermione smiled at that thought. Her body felt tired but relaxed and comforted, as she had only ears for the music pouring out from his door.

When he had stopped playing, her eyes slowly opened and she stared at his door, as if waiting. But after minutes had passed and it was clear he was done for the night, she stood up unhurriedly, and with one last glance at his door, she made her way back to her room.

That night, her mind was strangely at rest and dreamily satisfied, which was a feeling that she had never gotten before. She went straight to her bed and whispered a spell as the lights flickered out and she was left swimming in the darkness. Studying for her Herbology test was now far too gone out of her mind, as she closed her eyes and snuggled in the covers. She let the beckoning lullaby seduce her, and she felt herself fall into the exhaustion and strain from today.

She fell asleep, oblivious and unaware of the smile on her face.