Amid the Falling Snow

Chapter 8: Lasting Scars

Hermione strolled down the street. The snow was falling, and most homes were lit brightly with Christmas lights. It was just as it was when she lived with her parents. She had lived in a small town, all Muggles of course, but she hadn't ever known her neighbours. The children thought she was strange, reading all the time, and it didn't help that her hair was a bushy disaster. Despite this, she still loved the town.

She paused in front of her old home, now occupied by a family of seven. She missed her parents, and the house reminded her of them. The first Christmas had been the hardest; she spent the entire day crying, locked up in her dormitory at Hogwarts. She lost her parents to the war, a war they weren't even a part of. If she hadn't gone to Hogwarts, maybe it could have been prevented, but she had long left the what-ifs behind.

She continued down the road, pulling her coat closer to her. A tear slipped down her face and she quickly wiped it away. Why did she even come back? There was nothing for her there. Grasping the lilies to be sure they were still there, she stopped in front of the graveyard. After taking a few deep breaths, she entered, moving towards the graves of her parents. She stopped fighting the tears that were forcing their way through as she placed the lilies on each of their graves.

"I miss you," she whispered. "It wasn't the same without you this Christmas. I remember when we used to make a ham dinner, singing Christmas carols all day and opening presents at the end of the night. Remember when Uncle Harold came for a visit? He bought daddy two mismatched socks and a can opener." Hermione laughed softly, trying to fill the empty silence.

She knew they weren't going to answer, but part of her hoped that they would magically appear behind her and everything would be the same. Every year she wished the same thing, yet every year no sign of her parents were found. After a few more minutes, Hermione decided to leave the graveyard and Apparated back to her flat. She curled up in front of the fire with a book, and spent the remaining day reading, trying to forget the bad days.

***

"Draco!" the voice boomed at him. "You have disappointed me. You were supposed to kill Dumbledore, not leave it to Snape to do your job. You will be severely punished for this."

"Please, I was going to, but he just ran over and did it-" Draco started.

"Crucio!"

Draco writhed around in agonizing pain, screaming. He dug his nails into his skin, creating large, deep wounds in his arms. Soon, everything went dark.

Draco awoke, sweating and panting. It was the dream again. He hadn't had it since the war ended, so it was odd that he got it again. He hated it; he could feel the pain he felt that night. He glanced at his forearms, tracing the scars with his fingers, wincing in pain. They only hurt after his dream, as if the gashes had just appeared. They burned intensely, making them noticeable. He'd always conceal them with a spell, so no one would ever notice them, especially him. He tried so hard to forget that night.

He rose from his bed and into the bathroom. He splashed water across his face, an icy cold feeling reaching his skin. This calmed him, and he went into the kitchen to start water for tea. He had thrown out all his firewhiskey, so that was all he had to drink. He hated tea, especially the only one he had in the cupboard waiting to be drunk. He grimaced at the thought; tea that tasted of plants. The water screeched and he quickly turned it off. After he poured the water into the cup, he took a sip, immediately spitting it out. It was worse than he remembered. He placed it back on the counter and dressed to go to work.

***

Draco tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter, watching the old man currently browsing around pick up each potion, read the labels, and set it back on the shelf. He had been doing that continually for the past hour, and Draco was getting annoyed.

"Sir, do you need any help?" he asked for the third time, doing everything in his power not to scream and shout at him.

"No, no. Thank you, dear boy. I'm just browsing," the man replied absently. That's what he said the first two times.

Draco rolled his eyes, wishing that he chose a different profession that didn't involve bothersome people. A man walked in, causing the bell to ring on the door. Draco noted to remove it, as it was just as annoying as the old man was.

"Hello," the man greeted, walking up to the counter.

"Can I help you with something?" Draco asked in a bored voice.

"Yes, actually. I need to buy two sleeping potions. My son hasn't slept for days and-"

"I honestly don't care what you need it for. I'll get them from the back," Draco retorted, glad for an excuse to leave the room.

He took his sweet time in returning to the front. When he finally did, he placed the potions carefully into a bag and handed it to the man.

"That'll be two galleons."

"Thanks very much, Draco," the man said.

Draco froze. How did this man know him? "I don't remember telling you my name, nor do I have a name tag."

"Oh, you must not recognise me, then. Blaise Zabini, from Hogwarts?"

Draco merely raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"How've you been? Last I heard you disappeared, off to the States or something," Blaise asked.

Draco laughed. "People still talking about me, then? That's a comforting thought."

"Yeah, well, you know how they are."

"How...are you, Blaise?" Draco didn't really talk to Blaise much, but he thought he would try to be pleasant for a change.

"Good, good. I married Pansy, and we have two boys, Chris and James. How about you? Seeing anyone these days?"

"I...er...not really. Not since Hogwarts, actually."

Blaise looked at him in surprise. "Honestly? Merlin! Why not?"

Draco shrugged. "I just don't have any interest in anyone."

"You must be a lonely bastard, then. Tell you what. I'll owl you later tonight and set you up with a friend of Pansy's. Merlin knows she has loads of single friends."

"I don't really-"

"Brilliant. It was good talking to you, Malfoy. I'll let you get back to work." After waving goodbye, he exited through the door.

The old man looked over at Draco and grinned. "I've finished my browsing. Same time tomorrow, then."

As the old man left, Draco called, "Oh, you stupid man! Don't come back unless you're going to buy something!"

***

Draco drank his water, listening to the girl Blaise set him up with drag on and on about something to do with soup. He honestly didn't care, nor did he have any interest in her at all. She was just like Pansy, which he was disgusted with.

"So, anyway, tell me something about you, Draco! You're so mysterious," she said too loudly.

"There's nothing interesting about me," he told her.

"Oh." For the first time that night, she had shut her mouth, and for that, Draco was grateful.

She stirred her drink, boredom evident in her eyes. "You went to Hogwarts, then?"

"Yes, I did."

"That's interesting. So have you travelled at all?"

"A little, I suppose. A few places in Europe, but that's it."

"I've been almost everywhere. My parents were very cultural based, and loved to go places. It was actually fun!"

Draco lifted his glass and took a long drink from it. Lana, which was his date's name, looked at his arms in shock.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Nothing," he answered, quickly pulling his sleeves down. He had forgotten to cast the spell before he left his flat.

"Can I see them?"

Draco reluctantly outstretched his arm. She moved her finger along the scar, which made Draco cringe in pain.

"That hurt!" he snapped, pulling his arm away.

"Sorry," she answered sincerely. "How did that happen?" she whispered.

"I don't like talking about it."

"Alright." After a moment of silence, she looked at him. "You don't want to be here, do you?"

"That's not...exactly true."

"You love someone, don't you?"

Draco wondered how she could have guessed that. She was definitely smarter than Pansy. Draco didn't answer.

"What's her name?"

"You don't want to hear about her. I'd bore you."

"I do want to know. I wish I could be in love."

Draco felt sorry for her. She was a nice girl, and it was sad to have to reject her. "I'm sure you'll find someone," he told her, trying to make her feel better.

She laughed. "Maybe. So what's her name?"

"Hermione." And he went on to tell her the story, and how much he wanted her back.

"Wow. If I were her, I'd jump at the chance to be with you. You're different from other guys. A lot better than the scumbags I keep meeting. Hermione's a lucky girl."

Draco thought about the Lana's words. If only Hermione would give him the light of day, she would know how much better everything could be with him.