Quiet Revolution

Chapter 9 - Cries From The Past

We fight all the time, you and I

That's all right - we're the same soul

I don't need to hear you say

That if we weren't so alike

You'd like me a whole lot more

Listen to me now - I need to let you know

You don't have to go through it alone

Sometimes, you can't make it on your own

There were so many grains of sand on the beach. Like the infinite amounts of people in the world, each grain of sand represents one existing person. And often, when a storm rumbles down on the beach and separate the sand, destroying some, taking others away - the beach erodes, evolving into new shapes and takes on new forms. Nobody really notices much, it's acknowledged - much like the many deaths from the War, but if it wasn't personal... nobody was going to take the initiative to turn it into that.

Nobody really cares about the sand. It's just sand; it doesn't affect them individually.

When grains of people are lost, pass away or separated from their loved ones - taken away from the world, it was exactly the same. It wasn't a big deal. It happened all the time. Ignorance is bliss and people like Draco Malfoy loved living life in bliss. The War never affected him much because much like the sand and stone of the Earth, it was often seen as a faraway concept. Something the people around him were immersed in that needn't concern his bliss.

Hermione could bet that Draco was one of those people who didn't give a damn about little things in life, like how the sand shifts, and changes the way the beach looks.

Draco Malfoy was one of those people who didn't really care about the sand.

Except right now, he was brushing it off his hands and cursing profusely.

"Well?" he demanded, a mad expression scrawled on his face, after finally turning to look at her. "This is your stupid Spell of Self? Am I supposed to learn that I despise dirt?"

"It's sand," she snapped.

"It's the same concept, Granger," he snapped back.

"Malfoy, we didn't come here to argue and you know that. Just wait and I'm sure the spell will continue to guide us along. It's going to be very resourceful, I'm sure."

He grumbled and didn't say anymore. She rolled her eyes and ignored him as she spread her skirt beneath her knees and pulled her legs up to hug them. The vast ocean that spread out before them was skirting up foamy spreads of salt water and thick waves were gently coating the shores of caramel-coloured sand. The sun was somewhere far off at the other side of the world and the sky was a deep, dark amber colour.

"This had better be quick." Malfoy's words interrupted her peace. He nimbly sat down, as if his bones were made of toothpicks and held together with child's glue, and tilted his head up slightly so that the warm breeze picked up the top of his face.

"It's beautiful here," Hermione breathed softly. Draco didn't respond after that and Hermione took this as an agreement.

"Maybe," she continued, "this is it. This is the spell. It's helping you to appreciate life... the little things that you never bothered to see or love when you were alive."

He looked at her. "And maybe your idea is completely cockeyed and right now we're just put in a pretty waiting room for the real prescription, God willing."

She huffed. "Have you always been this difficult? Look around you, it's gorgeous here. This scene alone makes life beautiful; it almost makes me feel at peace about my situation with Ron, and Harry's death."

"Well, unlike Potter's death and your situation with Weasley, you're still alive and well and have the rest of your life ahead of you to patch things up with Weasley and find closure from Potter's death. I don't have that, so if you don't mind... I'll just sit here hoping for something better because I don't have a 'rest of my life' of my own to appreciate this."

"Malfoy," Hermione said. "...I know it's hard, but... if you would just tell me, how did you die?"

He looked at her and snorted. "If you wanted me to shut up, simple English would have done the trick."

She sighed. "Sometimes, you drive me mad. I just want to know more about you. You know, I think I like your idea of this being a wait process for the actual spell to start up because if this was the actual spell, I'd have learned nothing about you."

"Curiosity killed the cat, Granger, and I'm beginning to wonder exactly how many damn lives you have."

Before she could respond, her eyes wandered over to the stretch of scenery behind Draco and she saw a young, blond haired boy running toward him. Draco followed her gaze and turned to look at the boy.

He was young and fumbling, chubby rosy cheeks and a pair of strapped on suspenders matching his blue trousers.

And he had light blond hair.

"Draco," he squeaked and Hermione had to muffle her laugh because the look on Draco's face changed from curiosity into wide eyes and confused eyebrows that seemed to shoot up past his forehead.

"...Yes?" Draco responded. The boy promptly pulled Draco up and Malfoy looked over his shoulder at Hermione, who nodded at him encouragingly.

"The spell must be starting, so you were right," she said.

He smirked at her before he faced the boy.

"Draco... it's me," the boy said. "Will."

Suddenly Draco's face changed expression and Hermione couldn't help wondering if maybe Draco knew exactly who this boy was.

"Mum says that we need to be back before it's dark or the Mudbloods are coming after us."

The silence hurt. It was an infinity of a second before Draco answered and all Hermione could do was bite her lower lip in anticipation.

"Well, you'll just have to stick with me and we'll defeat those Mudbloods," Draco said hoarsely, his anger was quiet and subtle but so thick that even Hermione could feel it from where she was sitting a few feet away.

She felt uneasy. "Draco..." she said softly. "Don't--"

"Leave me alone," he snapped. "He's my brother and I'm going to take care of this. This is my spell."

That uneasy feeling was now spreading itself thickly over her whole body. It didn't stop for the whole hour where she sat and watched as Draco played. It seemed as if he had gathered all his strength into looking after this boy. Much like a girl who would invest all of her time, efforts - all of her life into loving that one special boy who would, in the end, unclench the hold he had on her heart only to shatter it into pieces.

"Draco..." Hermione finally called out. "You really shouldn't get too attached."

All of a sudden, the boy clung onto to Draco and clasped his hands with Draco's. He looked down at him and to his own surprise, felt the sort of warmth he could only experience when he was younger.

"They're after the children," the little boy whispered. "Draco, let's just go back. I'm scared. The Mudbloods are coming..."

"Listen... what's your name?"

"Will Malfoy."

Draco blinked and had to uncharacteristically pause again before he spoke, but his next words came out smoothly.

"Right, Will, you're a Malfoy. Malfoys don't back down especially not in front of Mudbloods, okay? So just trust me... I'll protect you."

Will nodded quickly but Hermione could see fear embedded in his silver eyes, those that matched Draco's perfectly. The skies were evolving from the burnt orange to a deeper, dark shade of royal blue. It was getting dark and the warm tropical breeze was shifting to a cold chill.

It all happened in a quick flash, a bolt of thunder clapped through the skies and all of a sudden, the skies were swarming with Dementors.

Will cried out and buried his head into Draco's lower chest where Draco cradled his head with his gloved hands. "The Mudbloods!" Will cried out, his voice muffled against Draco.

"We've got to go!" Hermione cried out. "They're Dementors. I don't know the effects of this spell... this could all be real!" She jumped up and stared at him frantically.

"I can't leave him; we have to take him with us!" Draco cried.

"We can't do that - it's meddling within a spell, that's illegal."

"Oh," Draco snapped, still holding onto Will protectively. "Because we weren't doing anything illegal before."

The Dementors were looming closer, their deep breathing and raspy winds howling down on the three and the sands on the beach began to dance around them.

"Well, do something Granger!" Draco yelled.

"Me!" Hermione cried through the howling winds. "I don't know how!"

"I thought you were supposed to be clever!"

"Harry and Ron did the fighting," she cried out. "I was the one with the logic. I... I don't possess the physical capabilities... you! You're a boy, why don't you do something about this."

"Me!" Draco yelled. "When have I ever come off as physically brave?"

"You've got to save him, Draco. He's your brother! This could mean something!"

"Aren't you tired of being useless? Didn't doing absolutely nothing to help the War teach you anything?" Draco snarled as he grabbed her wand from her pocket and charged toward the Dementor.

"Stop trying to hurt me," she yelled angrily after him, sweeping the hair out of her face. "This is your spell, not mine."

"I... I need to conjure up a Patronus, right?" he stammered.

"Yes!" Hermione said loudly as the slow circling Dementors made their way. "Harry told me that all you have to do is focus on a really happy memory and then conjure up the spell!"

"Right!" Draco nodded frantically "Expecto patronum!" Draco yelled out and then shot the wand toward the Dementor. "Expecto... patronum!"

Nothing.

The Dementor had grabbed hold of Will, too quickly for Draco to even touch Will. And without any pause or preparation, its hands seemed to claw painfully into Will's shoulder, Will's wails growing louder through the wind. Finally, the Dementor clamped its ugly gaping mouth over Will's small face and in seconds, it was over.

Will's soft boyish cries had been burned down by the wind. The Dementors finally loosened Will from their shield and Draco yelled out, letting his knees crash onto the sand. Within seconds, the Dementors all fled into the dark night sky, taking away the soul of Will Malfoy.

His tiny frail body laid there on the sands, the edge of the heavy waves crashing onto one side.

It was quiet and peaceful again. Stars were now glittering brightly in the deep, navy-coloured velvet sky. The only noise to be heard was the soft crash of the waves in the far off distance.

"Draco," Hermione said gently.

Draco looked up at her wildly and she saw that his eyes were bloodshot. He was breathing heavily, his hair messed up and her wand still clenched in his hands. He let his body crash down as he pressed his forehead against Will's body, taking his hands into his. She gently pat his quivering back as he had his face buried.

Draco Malfoy, Hermione thought to herself, now knew the significance of one grain of sand.

"Don't touch me," he snarled as he got back up, his voice was coarse and sounded thick. "You fucking Mudblood."

She looked at him in shock and as if his back was bubbling lava, her hand flew off. It was in that one split second that their eyes locked in that fierce gaze when suddenly the clouds formed up a hole in the dark sky and both of their bodies lurched upward and shot into the sky.

Another minute passed and they both fell. The common room around them was still completely empty and both Hermione and Draco were on the floor. She had her hands clasped against the rug for support and looked at him with wild eyes.

His eyes were still very pink and bloodshot and his hair had been wind-tousled. He got up and stormed over angrily to the spell book.

"You promised not to call me that again," she said quietly. So quietly that he didn't even hear her.

"It's still on Step One!" he yelled. "What the fuck was that? You're an idiot, did you know that?!"

"Me?" she cried. "At least I tried! At least the spell helped you learn something!"

He looked at her and then grabbed her arm, she cried out in protest. "Don't you ever," he started, "put me in a vulnerable position like that again."

"You can't stand the fact that you're weak, can you, Malfoy?" she whispered. "Don't you see what this spell has done? What the Dementors did to Will was exactly what Voldemort did to hundreds of innocent lives! Did Will deserve it? No. But did all those Muggleborns who died during the war?"

"I could care less about them!" he cried. "You have no idea who Will is, you have no fucking clue!"

"Maybe if you let me into your life and let me know, then I could be there for you!" she cried, and then her eyes grew wide as she noticed that people had begun to filter in through the portrait hole. They were back from Hogsmeade.

"I don't want you anywhere near me," Draco hissed. "I'll do this spell myself." And with that said, he tore out of the common room. She looked wildly around her, at Draco and then at a few of the student; Lavender and Colin were the first two she saw. It was their blonde hair that made them distinct. They were one of the very few who were studying her closely. Colin looked slightly sympathetic but Lavender was clearly silently critiquing.

Hermione let out a shaky breath and ran after Draco, not even bothering to affirm whether or not Ron was in the large group.

"Draco!" she yelled as she burst into the hallway. The air was cold and the stone walls were chilling as she used one hand to grasp onto it, catching her breath. He was walking briskly away and she proceeded to run after him.

"Stop!" she cried and pulled him around so that he was facing her. She met his eyes and saw that they were red and watery. She put her hand gently on his cheek and felt the cold wetness.

He was shaking.

He took her wrist and threw it to the side and then pushed her. "Don't touch me!" he cried, his voice wavering.

"It's okay to hurt like this!" she said. "It's okay! I understand it, Malfoy, I really do."

He didn't speak. It had been awhile since he had felt so terminally weak. But losing Will did things to him like he couldn't imagine.

"You have no idea," Draco hissed angrily, as the open corridor window to the right howled gently, the snow powering down hard against it. "Potter was only your bloody friend. Will was my family."

"He wasn't even real, Draco," Hermione whispered. "The Dementors weren't real either. We all know that Muggleborns aren't Dementors. It was all meant to teach you something."

"Will was real," Draco said hoarsely.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him. He avoided eye contact and seemed to be looking at a scene far off at the top of her head.

"Will was what my mother planned to name her second child. She was pregnant right before my first year of Hogwarts. I was lonely and wanted her attention... and she had heard that the Muggle world was abundant with toys, toys that the Wizarding society didn't have available," he paused and she pleaded him, with her eyes, for his shaky breath and trembling lips to continue talking.

"So she snuck into Muggle London, with a Portkey, and went to a toy shop. She purchased as many toys as her arms could carry and she didn't know that you weren't allowed to carry those bloody shopping cart devices outside the store, so the store attendant demanded that she empty the cart and return it. She couldn't make it back to the Portkey with all the toys in her arms. She tripped and fell; she hurt herself and she lost Will because she fell down."

The silence stretched beyond the corridor and Hermione could feel her heart pounding against his chest.

"I've been waiting my whole entire life since then to save him," he spoke so quietly that it was barely audible.

"Oh, Draco," she whispered. "I'm so incredibly sorry for your loss."

He didn't speak, merely continued looking at that spot above her head.

"Draco," she said softly, placing her hand back on his cheek. She pulled down his face with the other hand and looked into his eyes. "I'm so glad you told me that."

She could feel his cool breathing, the air coming out in ragged beats. His nose tilted so that it was leaned against hers and their lips only seconds apart.

He pushed her away. "Don't. Touch. Me." He ordered.

"Don't you understand?" she pleaded, trying to grab his arm. He pulled away again. "Your hatred for the Muggles can't be based on one act! It's pulling the world back. If it were really up to that, I would despise the whole Pureblood society for killing Harry! But that's completely irrational."

"Stop telling me what to do!" he cried. "I told you over and over that you don't know every fucking thing and you're not going to be able to change me through this one damn spell! You especially don't need to bring up Potter. Don't you think I've heard enough about him to last my whole fucking lifetime?! We may be bringing him back with this spell but that's the exact reason why I don't mind giving up on it so I don't have to look at his pathetic face again!"

She recoiled and took two steps back, staring at him aghast.

"You're a foul... inhumane coward, Malfoy!" she screeched. "You've already died and you don't even have the courage to live up to that. You can't stand the fact that you didn't get the perfect life and now you're putting it on me! You know why you hated Harry so much? Because he was everything you're not! Because he was courageous, kindhearted---"

She raised her clenched fist up violently and almost plunged it forward until Malfoy stepped forward and grabbed her tightly by the wrist. She could feel her blood flow growing thin but she clenched her teeth and looked up at him with heated eyes.

"Don't make me do it, Granger," he whispered, his voice treading very low. "I've never hit a girl before but I'd gladly make that exception for you."

But Draco never did hit her. And Hermione never did hit him back. In fact, Hermione didn't remember much of what happened past this point. All she recalled was how much her heart was hurting, how watery her eyes got and how her body's temperature lit up all the torched candles in the castle.

Night had fallen. Angrier words were exchanged and fierce tension swept the air, and all Hermione did remember past this point was that when she collapsed, a chilled set of arms picked her up and dropped her off in front of the Infirmary.

Word got out only minutes later when Seamus, Dean and Ron had snuck out to raid the kitchen and saw her body laying flat in front of the hospital wing.