Old Moon Fades

Old Moon Fades

Chapter Ten: Sorrow

He stood there silhouetted in the moonlight. The bookcases behind him cast long parallel shadows on the floor. Hermione gripped the newspapers in her arm tightly and didn't dare to drop her wand. Gone was the boy who had seemed so troubled and lonely before the hearing, and in his place stood a young man hell-bent on revenge. She eyed him wearily, afraid of what would happen.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she inwardly cringed at the fear that was so evident in her voice. More than anything she didn't want him to know how scared she actually was around him. Putting up a brave front, she straightened her shoulders and met his icy gaze.

"Really, Granger?" He ingnored her question and sarcastically posed his own. He stepped closer, the tension between them building with each step, each breath that separated them. His eyes narrowed as he continued, "You can't honestly tell me that you don't know what happened. And here, I always thought that you were so enamored with reading. I must say you truly had me convinced."

"What happened? After the hearing I mean," she ignored his snide comments. Her curiosity was too unbearable. She had to ask.

He shook a finger in front of her slowly. "Tsk. Tsk. I'm disappointed, Granger. Really, I expected better from you."

He continued walking toward her with those excruciatingly slow steps. Hermione forced herself to stand her ground and budge not one inch. She watched his approach; he moved with the grace of a trained predator honing in on its prey. She certainly felt hunted now. The smirk played roughly on his lips before creeping up to other parts of his face. He stopped just inches from her. She could feel the warmth of his breath caressing her cheek. She willed herself not to cower. She had done enough of that lately. No, she would show her Gryffindor courage tonight. Hermione boldly raised her face to his, caught the appraising look returned in his eyes. The smirk adorning his face grew bolder, more audacious.

A cool hand reached up and grabbed her arm but still she didn't take her eyes from his. Malfoy's eyebrow quirked as he ripped the newspapers from her hand.

"Hey!"

He pulled away before throwing the newspapers to the floor. She stomped her foot inelegantly. His only response was a snug look and a chuckle. She was instantly reminded of grade school, the class bully stealing her beloved book from her on the playground. Malfoy certainly looked the part at that moment, the smile nowhere to be found except his eyes.

In that moment she began to realize that she could read his face like the pages of one of her books. The emotions were so cleverly concealed but she could now see just how the puzzle of his mind fit together. Hermione had enough experience garnering the truth from Harry's face. Harry was the king of keeping his feelings all bottled up inside. Yes, gauging Malfoy would pose no real problem to her. Just now, he thought he had one-upped her. Indeed, he had. But, didn't she now have the upper-hand? Because she knew.

He must have sensed a change in her mood because all at once he became volatile. It came so suddenly that she almost missed it. For a moment she thought he would hit her. He must have sensed the fear in her again for he softened and his face fell in a kind of sorrow.

His voice was supple and apologetic when he whispered, "I won't hurt you."

He looked for a moment like he was going to walk to her again. But, he didn't. His feet were planted where they were on the library floor. The distance between them was shadowed by the sorrow hanging like a halo above them. She couldn't express in words the feelings she was so carefully controlling. Anguish for her parents. Regret for the events of her kidnapping. Confusion about the hearing and Ron. Guilt for the secrets she was keeping from her friends. Fear of Malfoy. He stood there so arrogantly and yet so lowly, as if he knew he didn't deserve it.

A sound from the stacks interrupted her thoughts.

"Hermione?" It was Ron. His voice floated to where she stood hidden in the shadows.

"Here she is! Ron, I found her!" Ginny called. Ginny walked quickly toward Hermione before realizing that they weren't alone. Ginny eyed Malfoy hastily before looking to Hermione for confirmation.

Ron stepped into the circle of shadows they were all occupying and looked apologetically at Hermione. The instant he noticed Malfoy standing there only a few steps away, his entire body went rigid. His face reddened in anger and his fists clenched reflexively.

Ginny moved to stand by Hermione and clutched her arm. "Come on, it's past curfew. We have to get back to the Tower," she pleaded.

Hermione, however, made no move to leave. Her eyes never left Ron and Malfoy. Ron stood there looking as if he wanted very badly to pummel the Slytherin. Malfoy looked eager for the challenge. The scene looked like it could explode any second. She hesitated only a moment before quietly venturing, "Ron?"

But, he ignored her. It was Malfoy who acquiesced.

"Don't worry, Granger. I was just leaving," he didn't even look at her as he swept past them. He blended with the shadows as he vanished into the dark of the library.

Ron continued to watch him as he disappeared in the shadows. Ginny stared at Hermione closely before asking if she was alright. Ron turned back to them at this and ran a hand casually through his hair.

"Yes, Ginny. I'm fine," Hermione replied. She watched Ron's face. At least his was always honest. She didn't have to try to judge his moods. His feelings were always written plainly on his face. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew what he felt. For the situation. For her. For everything. She knew. Her own feelings posed the most trouble. She didn't know what she wanted or what she felt about him. So she ignored it.

Ron's face fell as she looked away and toward the papers abandoned on the floor. The three of them bent down to retrieve the scattered sheets. The headline of the Daily Prophet from the day of the hearing glared back up at her in the moonlight.

"MALFOY NAMES DEATH-EATER CONSPIRATORS IN CASE OF CENTURY!"

She stilled as the ramifications of the headline formed themselves in her brain. Her eyes quickly skimmed the article under the headline. Draco Malfoy had named several others responsible for the torture of her parents and her own kidnapping. The names of several screamed back up at her. Crabbe. Goyle. Nott. All were parents of sixth year Slytherin boys. The scene in the Great Hall at the Welcome Feast, a mere hour before, came back to her. Malfoy sitting alone at the end of the Slytherin table. Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott sending deadly looks back at him. Their parents had all been named. The article said they were still at large, but without Lucius Malfoy's guiding hand, it was predicted that they would soon be caught.

"Hermione? Are you alright?" Ginny's voice was small as she stood up to leave. "We should probably go back soon..."

"Of course. No, let's go," Hermione's voice was shaky and disturbed her as she slowly rose. She bit her lip as a small sob gasped out. She didn't want to cry. Not now. This didn't change anything. But, it did.

She was still angry with her friends for keeping the news from her. The thought that this was how Harry must have felt last summer briefly crossed her mind, but she ignored it. Instead, she turned and faced her friends eager to vent some of her frustration and anger out on them. Ginny turned to go but Hermione's angry voice called her back.

"Why did you keep all this from me?! Why, when you knew that I would want to know, that I needed to know?!" She yelled regardless that they were in the library.

The tears she had held back for so long, that she had kept at bay ignoring their existence, came freely now. Ron shifted uncomfortably and straightened the papers in his hands. Ginny stood awkwardly by her brother. Both wore equally guilty looks on their faces. Neither said anything. Hermione wasn't deterred however.

"How dare you all to presume what I should and should not know!"

"Hermione, it wasn't like that..." Ron started before Hermione cut him off again.

"NO! You don't know what it was like! You have no idea what I went through! My parents are in the hospital in comas! How dare you to assume that keeping me in the dark was going to solve any of my problems!"

Ginny was looking at her with tears in her eyes, while Ron was staring down at the floor. Hermione's anger began to dissipate as she looked at her friends. She quieted but continued.

"You have no idea what I go through everyday. I have to work twice as hard as everyone else in this school simply because my parents are Muggles. I have worried about their safety everyday since first year. At least I can defend myself against the Death Eaters. They can't!" She paused for a moment to catch her breath. "I would have wanted to know what Malfoy had done. Do you have any idea how important this is? This article changes everything!" She waved the newspaper.

"Hermione, I'm really sorry. I know we should have told you. But you were so happy after the hearing. It was almost as if none of it had happened. We didn't want to spoil it, that's all," Ginny ventured quietly.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I know. I'm sorry for yelling. I just... had to get it out of my system I guess." She shifted the papers in her hands, embarrassed about her outburst. "We should head back to the Tower, after all it is past curfew."

Ginny nodded and Ron shifted uneasily before agreeing. The three of them awkwardly made their way out of the library. Hermione had a strange sense of being watched, but ignored it and chalked it up to nerves.

If she had just turned around, she would have seen the silver haired boy standing in the shadow of a bookcase watching silently.

* * *

He couldn't say what it was that had possessed him to follow after her when she fled the Great Hall during dinner. He had watched her during the meal, had seen her struggle not to glance over at him. Part of him willed her to, if only for the temporary relief from the loneliness he felt since coming to Hogwarts. The other Slytherins stayed away from him after making it abundantly clear that he had committed an unforgivable offense in naming their fathers during the hearing.

The food before him wasn't filling. He could feel Pansy's eyes boring into the side of his face. He ignored her. She had proven to be more trouble than the others. She had come to him right after exiting the carriages. He listened, more politely than he had with Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott, as she spewed her rejections at him. He wasn't surprised, nor was he hurt. Not really. Only superficially. But, no one had gone so far as to insult him or threaten him. They weren't that stupid. After all he was still the wealthiest young wizard in Britain. Hell, he was the wealthiest wizard in most of Europe. When the Wizengamot cleared him of all the charges he was formally named as the sole heir of the Malfoy fortune, vast as it was. The money and estates would be held in trust by an anonymous guardian until he came of age.

To say too much or to go too far would be suicide for any young wizard. Once Malfoy came of age he literally would hold their futures in his hands. They knew it. He knew it. So, they backed off. Sure, they puffed around for a bit, but they eventually just gave in. It was obscene how much wealth and power he would hold at such a young age. Witches and wizards, far older than he, spent decades trying to amass a mere percentage of what he would possess upon graduation.

The reaction the other students were having to him hadn't really stunned him. He was used to a moderate amount of attention from others. In fact, he reveled in it. But, it was different this time. It wasn't awe that people's faces held; reservation and unease filled the hearts of practically everyone at Hogwarts. It had been almost unbearable to walk into the Great Hall at the start of the feast. The moment he stepped through the doors all talking ceased. Every eye in the room was trained on him as he made his way to the end of the Slytherin table. It took everything he had to retain his composure and normal demeanor. As if in a production, he sauntered carefully controlling his signature smirk and ignored all the stares. When he sat down the chatter resumed in full force.

Only a few minutes had passed when Granger and her legion of loyal cohorts entered for the feast. Again the silence was deafening as every student turned to stare at the girl that had made all the headlines. Their eyes turned from her to him yet again as if they could glean some kind of gossip simply from their presence. Dumbledore's speech had been a welcome distraction. The students reluctantly turned their attention from him and toward the Headmaster.

When he felt it was safe he chanced a glance over toward the Gryffindor table. He could feel Granger not looking at him. She was focusing all her energy on ignoring him, so much so that it became painfully obvious that she was indeed intensely aware of him. The thought pleased him and at the same time angered him more than he thought was necessary. Disturbed, he dug into his plate. Then, like everyone else in the Hall, he looked up to see the fight ensuing at the Gryffindor table.

Granger hastily stood from the table and stormed from the room. The faces of Potter, that Weasley git, and his sister were priceless. Guilt was written all over them. The sister leaned over across the table to whisper with her brother and his friend. Potter shook his head in response to whatever she had said. Weasel looked devastated.

It was then that he decided to follow Granger. He didn't know what possessed him to do it. He tried telling himself that it was only to torment and tease her about the fight. He didn't want to admit that maybe he just needed to talk to someone, even if the conversation was filled with malice. He made his decision and left the room.

She wasn't in the entrance hall. Where would she go? The library. Obviously. With purposeful strides, he walked down the dark corridors of the school. In the weeks he had stayed here alone, he had come to enjoy the quiet of the hallways and the silence during the nighttime. It was the day that he didn't like. The lack of people and companionship was almost unbearable. It had been weeks since he'd had a decent conversation with anyone.

And that was the reason he had gone to the library after her. Not that he really wanted to talk to her, but they had come to some sort of an arrangement, hadn't they? They weren't the enemies they once were. She kept his secret. He didn't know what motivated her to do it, but he did know that meant something. At least it meant something to him.

When he found her in the reserves section of the library he didn't know what to say. So, he went with his usual scathing remark and trademark sneer. It wasn't that he wanted to continue being mean to her, it was more that he didn't know how else to be. He had always been condescending and rude to his peers. He almost never had a kind word for Crabbe or Goyle. So he said the first mean thing that had come to his mind. She looked hurt when he ripped the newspapers from her arms. He couldn't stop himself though.

She stared at him as they stood in the shadows of the bookcases and he knew that she was just as lost and confused feeling as he was. But she was also afraid of him. He recognized that, it was the natural result of many years of torture and teasing. His former self would have been proud of that accomplishment. But not anymore. Not after what she had done for him at the hearing. He owed her his life, or close to it anyway. And this was how he repaid her? With cruelty and harsh words about her reading habits? He didn't know any differently. He'd never had any real friends. He wanted to hate her. He wanted to ignore the changes that had happened but that was impossible now.

She looked for a moment like she had realized that he didn't hate her, her eyes betrayed her own thoughts of victory. She thought she had him all figured out. But, oh how wrong she was. It angered him that she was so clever. She very nearly did have him all figured out. She was the only person to ever come close to witnessing his inner self, the secret part of him that he kept tucked away hidden far out of sight.

He didn't check his anger though and she looked for a moment just like the girl he and his father had kidnapped. Her face held the same twisted contortion of fear that it had as he'd pressed the dagger to her throat. She looked genuinely scared of him. It surprised him that he didn't want to scare her anymore. He didn't want to hurt her. He told her as much.

The few moments that followed were filled with all the regret and sadness that had overwhelmed him these last few weeks. She was the only one who shared them with him. It was their unwanted bond. He could read every emotion on her face just as surely as she could read his own. The thought was comforting and at the same time extremely unsettling and disturbing. He'd never let anyone in before. He didn't want to now. But, there it was, his most unlikely ally and possibly his only friend. It scared him more than he could name.

He had been almost relieved when Weasley barged in ready to fight him. But he'd stopped himself as tribute to Granger. One look at her face and the guilt over all the pain he'd already caused her and her family was almost too much to bear. So, he'd backed down and retreated into the darkness of the stacks. He watched hidden in the shadows, unable to drag himself away as Granger laid into her two friends.

Then, too quickly, they were leaving him again. He waited silently as they walked out of sight. He didn't know what the future held but maybe it wouldn't be so unbearable because Granger was going through it too.