When Enemies Interact

Chapter 14: In Memory of Terry Boot.

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Heading up the last couple of steps, Draco took a deep breath and entered the warmth of the common room, only to find Hermione sitting on the couch, crying hopelessly as she looked into the blazing fire. All the thoughts of what he was going to say to her vanished from his mind instantly and he found himself hoping it hadn't been him that had made her as upset as she was.

"Hermione?" he said, approaching her as he stuffed the letter into his pocket. "What's the matter?"

She looked up at him, showing her swollen red eyes and wet cheeks.

"T-Terry died!" she sobbed. "D-Dumbledore's just been to t-tell us. H-He died in his s-sleep last n-night and there's g-going to be a f-funeral service here at th-the school on We-Wednesday!" She bit down on her lip to stop it from trembling before breaking down again.

Draco sat down on the couch beside her and felt his arm wrap around her shoulders, although he hadn't really thought about doing so. Hermione, however, just let out a great sob and buried her face in his shoulder, crying unceasingly.

"W-Will you go w-with me t-to the f-funeral, Draco?" she asked, her words muffled, but still distinguishable.

Draco didn't really have to think about it before replying. "Yes," he said simply. He bent down slowly and gave her a tiny kiss on the head, trying to ignore the odd feeling that surged through him from doing so. He heard her sniff before she raised her head, wiping her swollen red eyes.

"Thank-you," she said weakly, before giving him a small, soft kiss on the lips, which left Draco in thought.

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The days leading up to Wednesday -the day of the funeral - went by quite uneventfully for both Draco and Hermione. Hermione had wanted to help with the preparations for the service, but was told by Professor McGonagall to leave it to the teachers and the ones closest to Terry, such as his parents.

Draco, on the other hand, was having a bit of a hard time in telling Hermione about his own feelings. He had tried, several times, but before he even started to explain, she would say something along the lines of "Not now, Draco." He had tried to write a letter, like she had, but as he wasn't very good at writing stuff like that, his attempts had turned out quite pathetic. It was beginning to drive him mad, insane even. He had to get it out.

Right now, however, they were walking across the snow-covered grounds to the lake, where the funeral was about to be held and he didn't feel it was the right time to tell her.

They neared the edge of the frozen-over lake to find that many chairs had been erected and were facing an open timber coffin, showing the lifeless form of Terry. Hermione let out a sob and covered her mouth with a hand, trying to restrain herself from crying. At the sight of Terry's stony-white body, Draco felt a sickening sensation in his stomach and his insides went cold.

They slowly approached the casket and Hermione let out the tears she had been holding back as they looked down at the limp and colourless form of Terry's dead body. Draco watched Hermione carefully as the tears ran silently down her pale cheeks. She was very upset about the whole affair. He finally seemed to realise that her life hadn't been all that enjoyable over the last few months. Harry had cheated on her, he and Ron had hurt her terribly in different ways, her parents had decided on getting a divorce, and now Terry was dead and she was standing in front of his open coffin. He wished they hadn't come as early, as they might have avoided this and Hermione may not have been as upset at this moment as she was.

Draco shifted his gaze back down to Terry, who was wearing his plain black school robes and he suddenly felt regret. Regret for being as mean as he had been towards Terry, just because he had gotten Head Boy first. Draco shifted uncomfortably and looked around, thoughts running though his mind. He felt it best as he undid the Head Boy badge on his robes, before hesitantly pinning it onto Terry's.

"You were the true Head Boy, Boot," he murmured, continuing to look down at Terry's body, "But I have to thank you." He could feel Hermione's shocked stare burning into him, but ignored it, turned around and headed towards the back row of chairs to sit down.

Hermione followed him and took a seat beside him. "That was a really nice thing you did then, Draco," she said in a soft voice, dabbing her watery eyes with a small, florally handkerchief. Draco just sat and stared at the still surface of the lake. "I thank you for coming with me, I mean, you were never really fond of Terry and I appreciate you being here with me."

Draco continued to stare ahead. "You were right," he said rather abruptly. "You said, months ago, before all this stuff between us started, that I would come to regret being such a bastard towards Terry and I do. I wish I had never said anything."

Hermione looked at Draco's glazed-over face, reminded suddenly of a small, guilty child. His face was pale, even more so than usual, and he had an odd glimmer in those grey eyes of his. She shifted her hand silently so it rested on top of his. He turned his over and allowed her fingers to entwine with his.

"Don't put yourself down, Draco," Hermione said softly. "You had your reasons to feel that way towards Terry, hating him and all. I can understand those reasons, even if they were a little selfish on your part. I know I'd feel the same way if Susan Bones had gotten Head Girl instead of me..." She looked away from him, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

"That Bones girl could never have gotten Head Girl instead of you," Draco murmured.

"I believe she could've," Hermione stated quietly.

Draco looked down at their hands, locked together. He couldn't quite understand why she had been doing things like this to him a lot lately. First the quick kiss on the night they'd first found out about Terry's death and now this.

He took a deep breath before opening his mouth to speak again, only to stop as Hermione's grip on his hand tightened and, in reflex, he pulled his hand away to find that she had stiffened in her seat. With a curious look at her, he noticed why she had become rigid. Harry and Ron had taken seats beside her and were staring into the iciness of the lake ahead with impassive faces. Draco inwardly cursed them harshly. He was about to mention the letter and they had stopped him. It was strange that they had chosen to sit there of all places, as there were many other empty chairs surrounding them. He felt it best not to throw an insult at them, but it took quite a large amount of courage not to.

He glanced at Hermione and saw, with great surprise that she had an expression on her face that was very unHermione-like. She was looking almost murderous, with her eyes blazing like fire, her fists were clenched and he knew that, behind her lips, her teeth were too. He knew and understood the reason for this, but never had he thought that she would ever feel this much hatred towards them. It was very unHermione-like indeed.

Draco continued to keep an eye on her as she slowly relaxed. Some type of purple-robed minister had arrived and most of the chairs had become occupied. Most of people neither Hermione nor Draco could recognise and they gathered that they were relatives or friends of Terry's in some way or another. There were many Hogwarts students attending the funeral and all the teachers were also there. Nearly everyone had approached Terry's casket and said their final good-byes and the coffin now lay shut, a wreath of flowers decorating the top. The minister was standing in front of it, as the guests slowly quieted.

"We are gathered here on this winters day to remember and say our final farewells to Mr. Terrance Mark Boot," the minister began, looking around at the silent, upset guests as they listened. "He was known to friends and family and classmates as Terry, a proud, hard-working Ravenclaw, and an achiever in everything he did..."

The minister went on like this for quite some time, but Draco wasn't really listening. He was going over things in his head, something he'd done quite a lot of over the past few days. Words were circling his head, but they kept becoming confused every time he went to say them out loud and he often lost his nerve to say them altogether. These words being the very words that he had wanted to say since he had received that letter from Hermione. "I love you": strong words that were just dying to exit his mouth, even though he was scared of what would happen if and when he did. It seemed to be all he could think about lately...

Hermione wasn't really listening, either, as Terry's mother had now gotten up to give the eulogy and, being as boring as it was, she couldn't help but let her gaze to wonder to Draco beside her, as he stared ahead, with obvious absent thoughts running through his mind.

She had thoughts running through her mind as well. She kept trying to think of Terry, but her brain kept shifting to Draco. She remembered how he had thought of her before he took that Head Boy badge from Dumbledore in the beginning, how he had told her that he cared about her during their first duty, after they'd seen Harry cheating on her with Ginny. Thoughts of them in the library and that first, wonderful kiss they'd shared. The way everything had become clear to her as she wrote that letter to him and realised that she was in love with him. She wasn't even sure if he had gotten or read that letter, as he hadn't said a word about it, or even shown that he had read it. Then again, he had been acting a bit strange around her lately...

Terry's mother had finished her speech and everyone was standing up. Hermione stood as well and brought Draco back to his senses and motioned for him to do the same. An invisible piano started playing from somewhere and they both suddenly found themselves reading a hymn ("Abide with Me") written in gold on a piece of loose parchment that had appeared magically in front of them. Neither one of them was really singing it, though.

When the last note sounded, Hermione didn't sit back down like the rest, as she knew what was coming. She looked down at Draco, who looked back up at her, confused. "I don't want to stay any longer," she whispered. "I don't want to see Terry get buried."

Draco took a moment before nodding and standing up as well. They pushed their way passed Harry and Ron and headed up towards the castle. Draco noticed that more tears had formed in Hermione's eyes, but didn't say anything. He had a fair idea as to what had caused these tears.

"Why is everything happening now for me?" she asked hopelessly. "Look at all the things that have happened in these last couple of months. Terry got that illness and has now died; Harry cheated on me; Ron hurt and betrayed me; my parents have split... they're all bad things. The only thing I can think of that's been good is - is you and I - the way we've gotten so close." They both stopped walking and faced each other. "I don't think I could've faced seeing Terry get buried."

Draco sighed and nodded to himself. He knew that was the reason of her tears. Silently and slowly, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her rest her head on his shoulder.

"I got your letter," he said quietly. Hermione broke out of his embrace and wiped her eyes. She looked at him as though she was waiting for more words to exit his mouth. "I've been wanting to talk to you, but I haven't really had much of a chance..." He trailed off, feeling as though something solid and hard had formed in his stomach. He didn't feel ready, for some reason. He wanted to, but couldn't. Hermione seemed to get the idea.

"Draco, it can wait until later," she said with a small smile. "I'll meet you in the common room later. I just want to stay out here alone for a while."

Draco nodded and as she turned to retreat, he said, "Don't catch a cold."

"I won't." She headed off towards the edge of the forest. Draco had a feeling she was going to see Hagrid.

Draco stood out in the cold breeze for a moment before heading all the way back to the castle. He reached the Entrance Hall, but instead of heading up the marble staircase to the common room, he decided to take a walk down into the dungeons.

The dungeons were always cold in the winter and they had a tendency to drip drops of icy condensation, which caused chills to run down her spine every time one touches you. Draco was used to it, though, as he had spent most of his Hogwarts days in the Slytherin common room, which, even with a blazing fire, was just as bad.

He sat down on the bottom step of the narrow staircase that led you to the dungeons, staring ahead into the dark, deserted dungeon passageway. He remembered how he and Hermione had seen Harry kissing Ginny in this passageway on their first Head duty and he wondered whether Hermione would've dumped Harry if she hadn't seen it. Would she still be with him if she hadn't? Would she have never fallen in love with Draco?...

Draco couldn't answer these questions and he doubted whether Hermione could, either. Perhaps she was right when she said, "this is our destiny" in her letter. Perhaps they were made for each other and that everything that was happening was completely out of their control. Perhaps they were destined to be together and that love was only a simple thing between them, because there are things stronger that they have yet to feel and realise...

Draco's thoughts were so caught up, he was completely oblivious as to what was going on around him and didn't notice the tall, cloaked figure of his father approach until he heard his cold, drawling voice.

"I was hoping to find you here," he said. Draco looked up with a start. At the sight of his father, Draco felt his insides go cold and a mixture of fear and dread surfaced in his body. Lucius looked malicious as he spoke his next sentence: "I've been wanting to talk to you."

Draco knew that his father didn't only want to talk, he could see it in his expression and hear it in his tone. His father always had reason to be that malicious - always.

His father was there to punish and Draco knew, from the odd feeling in the pit of his empty stomach, that Lucius had found out about Hermione...