Abyss

Abyss

Several days soon passed, and Draco noticed that Granger was becoming quieter, more withdrawn. She rarely talked to him anymore, and when he was inside the room she acted as though she did not notice his presence. Of course they weren't the best of friends (he snorted at the idea of them - a Malfoy and a Mudblood - becoming best friends, which actually earned him an odd look from her), but at least when he wanted a verbal sparring, she would just be too happy to slap him with one. There were even times before when they'd have intense debates about the things they disagreed upon - which usually meant heated arguments about every little detail. But nowadays... well. It would suffice to say that things had been awfully quiet with that big head of hers buried in some big book. Not that he'd given her permission to read his books, but it wasn't as though that was going to stop her from doing it. Now, she was, predictably, seated on her usual spot by the window and behind a big tome when he spoke. "Why are you even reading that?" Draco pointed at the title scrawled at the front of the book. "I mean, isn't it an insult to you that--"

"--this book is called The Mudblood Revolt?" Granger finished for him. "Funny, I don't think you're insulted when you see--" She pointed at a bigger book shelved on the bookcase, "--Malfoy: A Generation of Great Magic in your shelf."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Being a Malfoy isn't an insult," he stated. "It's a privilege."

"Oh, really?" She glanced at him for a second. "Well, everybody else seems to think it's a curse." Granger turned a page on her book. "Besides, why should the title of this book bother me? I mean, that Mudblood insult is definitely getting old. I'm sure you would've realized that by now, seeing as you've used it on me for about six years already."

"Well, what can I say? It's my chosen pet name for you."

That effectively tore her attention away from The Mudblood Revolt, just in time to see him give her his signature smirk. "A foul and a totally judgmental pet name for me? Oh, Malfoy. You shouldn't have. Really."

"Foul and judgmental it may be," Draco admitted, "but it's still a pet name. You're lucky to have been given one, do you realize that?"

"Hmm. I've never really thought of it that way." Granger gave him another of her withering looks. "How sweet of you."

"It's part of my charm. Besides, why do you think I had my father buy that book for me? Let me tell you, it reminded me of--"

She rolled her eyes heavenwards. "Spare me the details, please." Granger then returned her attention to the book. "What are you even doing here, anyway? Aside from bothering me, of course. I mean, isn't there some poor, defenseless house elf that's scheduled for maltreatment from you?"

Draco pretended to think. "I think that activity is still reserved for tomorrow, but thank you for reminding me." He grinned at her horrified expression. "I'm kidding, you slow, gullible little thing. I'm bothering you because I'm bored."

"And you've got nothing better to do?"

"If I have something better to do then I'd be doing it right now."

"Why don't you try reading?" She gestured at his bookshelf again. "You have an interesting collection of volumes. Just grab one of those and read."

"I've already read through all those books, plus those at the library, in case you're going to mention it." He sighed. "Any other brilliant suggestions?"

"Here's an idea." Granger closed the book on her lap and leaned forward. "Why don't you grab your broomstick, fly to the end of the earth, then jump right off the planet."

"Only when you ride with me." Draco smirked at her again, and it thoroughly satisfied him to see her fume.

"Argh!" She threw the book at his feet (a big feat for her, considering her weight and that of the book's) and stood up. "I've had it! I've had it with you, Malfoy! What is it with you and your stupid games? One minute you're acting like a spoiled brat, then you're turning to this... this horrible monster who threatens me with hexes and certain death, and then turning to this... this git who does nothing else but annoy the hell out of everyone in his sight! And unfortunately, I'm usually the one that you see!"

He stared at her while she was loudly giving her whole rant, and then quietly sat on the chair she had vacated. Draco then looked up at her and said, "You're entertaining when you're angry, you know that?" He motioned for her to continue. "You were saying something about me being a git, I believe." It were times like these that he could forget, even for a moment, that they were in a situation far more dire than anything they'd ever been in. It were times like these that he could pretend he was just, in her own words, annoying the hell out of Ms. Know-it-All Granger.

She took a deep, calming breath. "Malfoy--" She took another deep, calming breath. "You are such a--"

"Yes?" Draco looked eager as he spoke. He even leaned forward just to show her how keen he was.

"Nothing," was her curt reply. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, her features the very picture of defiance. "I refuse to be your source of entertainment for any moment longer."

He threw his hands up in mock disappointment. "Oh, come on, Granger!" Draco pleaded. "Surely--"

"NO!"

"Fine," he muttered. "Since you are obviously against my kind of amusement, then let me ask you this: what do you want to do?"

"Seriously?" Granger retorted. "I want to know, first and foremost, whether my parents are still alive or not. Second of all, I want to know where my friends are, and lastly I would like to know whether or not I can still get out of this whole ordeal in one piece, because only Merlin knows how much this has been--" She looked away, and then closed her eyes. "Malfoy," she began again, in a quieter, softer tone, "I am not being ungrateful for all that you've done for me, don't get me wrong. But I desperately need to know if, after all of these things, I can still go back to the life that I used to live, or if there's anything left of it at all." Granger looked at him. "You asked me before why I was reading that book. My answer is that though it is a direct degradation of all that I am, if I browse through its pages I could still make opinions and contradictions to all that is written there. That way, I can still pretend that I'm at the Gryffindor Common Room, and that book is just a reading assignment, and that my life is still intact."

Draco sat there, stunned at the revelations, at the sudden turn of all the events. He just wanted something to do to pass time, damn it! And now... well. He couldn't just sit there, and pretend that he didn't hear her words! So, he broke their stare, then stood up from his seat. Without a word, he walked away from her. Without a word, he opened the door, and stepped out into the hall.

Without a word, he closed the door behind him, and left her alone in his room.

*

Hermione slowly turned to watch Malfoy as he closed the door. As the sound of his footsteps receded, she sank on her chair, cradled her face in her hands, and groaned.

Oh, she hated this! She hated this very much! She felt like a prisoner, like a bird trapped in an elegant cage and denied the luxury of living inside it. She constantly feared that someone other than Malfoy might step through that door, which would lead to her discovery... to her death. And Malfoy... that unpredictable bastard! She must admit that she knew absolutely nothing about his moves, or how he would act on certain occasions... and now she just revealed something so private to him. And look at what he did... he just left! Without even a single word to say to her, after all that she said to him! "This is pathetic," she muttered to herself, and her shoulders shook with an emotion that was a mixture of both regret and embarrassment. "Great. This is just great. What's next, Hermione Granger... perhaps after this soul-baring speech of yours you'll tell him all your fears so that he can do all of those to you while he sit there and watch and totally be silent all through it!" She took deep, deep breaths and tried to calm herself down. It was useless. It was pathetic.

She couldn't understand why on earth she was angry, but here she was, angry about... something. Perhaps she was angry because she was just stupid enough to share something as sacred as her deepest, darkest desires to someone like him. Or perhaps it was because she just shared with him that she was living in pretense, and that this was the reason why she was able to get through each day. Or perhaps it was because she just shared something that he would undoubtedly use as a reason to laugh at her, to insult her.

Well, of course the fact that he just sat there, watched, and then left as she bared herself to him did not help in the slightest bit. In fact, it made everything seem worse than it was, because she'd just proven that he really didn't care.

Hermione straightened herself up. She just had to watch her words around him so that another one of her personal rants won't ever happen again. Otherwise...

She shook her head, and her resolution gave her strength. There would never be any time for 'otherwise'. She would personally see to it that there would never be.

Her gaze fell on the book on the floor, and just as she was about to pick it up, the door that led to the hallway flew open. Surprise and dread flooded her immediately, as she thought that her fear might've become reality, but before she could do anything more Malfoy had already stepped inside. Hermione blinked as she looked at him, the expression on her face shifting from alarm to apathy. "What?" she asked in a toneless voice.

Malfoy walked towards her, and took her hand in his. "You're coming with me."

"What?" she said again, and this time her tone was holding a surprised tilt in it.

He tugged at her hand. "Come on," he said as he pulled her along with him. "We don't have much time."

She tried to take her hand back. "You're not trying to save me again, are you?" Hermione planted her feet firmly on the ground, and resisted any efforts to move forward just in case that was his plan. "Because if you are--"

Malfoy glared at her. "I'm not trying to take you out of here. I just have something to show you."

She looked at him in suspicion. "What's that?"

"You'll see."

"Where is it?"

He looked exasperated as he said, "Just come with me, damn it! Is it too much to ask?"

"It is if you're the one asking," she told him.

This time, Malfoy pulled her hand with so much strength that it nearly tore her arm apart. "Ow! That hurts, you foul--"

"Then come with me so that I won't accidentally rip your arm off."

Hermione glared at him, and then reluctantly allowed herself to be led. She couldn't understand why on earth she was allowing him to do this to her, and why he was holding her hand so tightly she was sure she'd have bruises because of it. She wasn't going to ask him about those, but then this one question leapt to her throat before she could smother it. "Why are we going outside? I thought--"

"Because," Malfoy led her through the open door, and continued walking along the hallway, "we can. Plus, I have something that I'm going to show you, and it's outside my room."

"Fine," she spat. "But this better be good, Malfoy, because if you're going to risk my life by--"

"We're here." They both stopped in front of a huge door, which were only about five rooms away from Malfoy's. "Come on. It's inside." He opened the doors for her, and then closed it quietly behind them as they entered.

Hermione frowned as she saw that the room was bare, except for a mirror that hung on the wall opposite the door. No lush draperies hung over open windows, no plush carpets laid on spacious floors. It was a startling contrast to the one room in the manor that she had seen so far. "What is this room for?" she asked.

Malfoy pointed at the mirror. "That is what this room is for." He looked at her. "Go on. Take a peek."

Curiosity brimming within her, she walked towards the mirror. She saw only the reflection of herself walking, and of Malfoy standing still behind her. "I only see us," she commented.

"Don't be too impatient. Just wait," he said. "You'll see."

Hermione stared at the mirror, and her reflection stared right back at her. She glanced at Malfoy, and then back at herself. "Whatever this is, I'm not--"

Then suddenly, spectacularly, the reflections on the mirror changed. It swirled into blurred and distorted colors, and then slowly, surely, the reflections righted itself. Only this time, the mirror did not reflect the bare room where it was, but a cozy, brightly hued area. "Merlin," Hermione whispered, awed. She could recognize the fireplace, the painting, the furniture... "That's our living room."

She did not even hear Malfoy's steps as he walked towards her side. "It looks... warm," he commented.

She grinned at him, before she turned her attention to the mirror again. "That's because of the fireplace, you see? When I'm home, I usually request that they always open it up for me." Then, Hermione gasped; she just saw her mother come into the room. "Mom," she said softly, as she lifted her fingers and traced the outline of her mother. Her hand only touched the cool glass surface, but she didn't care. She was seeing, touching, her mother. "Mom," she said again, but this time her voice was quivering.

And then something from the other side of the room stirred. Hermione found it difficult to tear her eyes off the figure of her mother, but when she did her heart leapt with so much happiness, it hurt. "Dad." This time, Hermione can't help the tear that rolled on her cheek as she saw her father. "That's my dad," she said. "They're alright. Thank God they're alive." And soon, after her words were uttered the mirror once again reflected the bare room, and their faces inches away from the glass surface.

Hermione couldn't care less if Malfoy was seeing her like this; she just saw that her parents, her family, were alive. Whatever happened at Hogwarts did not happen to them, and for that, she was very grateful. She lowered her face on her hands, and cried.

"Granger." Malfoy spoke so softly she almost couldn't hear him. "Are you alright?" He carefully took her hands off her face and held them away from her.

Despite her tears, the smile on her face came so easily, so effortlessly. "As of now," she said, "I can honestly say that I'm okay." She tugged one hand free from his hold and then began to wipe her tears away with it.

He smiled. "Good," he said. "Because frankly I don't want any more of your tirades, especially like the one you gave earlier. It's too... emotional for me. I can't bear it."

Hermione chuckled at that. "You won't hear any more of it," she told him. "I promise."

"That's comforting to know." Malfoy withdrew his hand from hers, and cleared his throat.

She glanced at the mirror. "This is the most wonderful mirror I have ever seen," Hermione said as she touched the serpent engraved around the object. As she neared the eye of the snake, which was a glimmering emerald, she turned towards him. "What's it called?"

"Salamin ng Isip. Mirror of the Mind," Malfoy answered. "Technically, it's a mirror that reflects what you know. It confirms whether or not your knowledge is true. You saw your parents, alive, because you want to know if they are. And, as you saw them, it means that they're indeed living."

"So..." Hermione's heart began to race, and she looked at him eagerly. "Does that mean... can I see..." She wasn't able to finish her sentence, but he looked like he understood what her unspoken words were.

Malfoy looked away. "You want to see if your Gryffindor friends are still alive," he stated flatly.

"Well, yes."

"Do you know where they are?"

"No, but--"

"Then I'm sorry. You can't see them through this." His words sounded harsh, brutal.

The disappointment she felt was palpable. "But I thought--"

"Granger," Malfoy said, "you saw your parents in your house, didn't you?" When she nodded, he continued, "That's because you know that they will be there, or at least you suspected it. One thing more about this mirror is that you must have some idea of where to see whomever you wanted to see. It's necessary for this to work."

"So if I picture them someplace where I thought they will be, the mirror will confirm whether or not my suspicion is true?"

"Precisely."

She stared at the mirror, and then thought of Sirius Black's place, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. It was of course a risk, not to mention farfetched, but still... "Empty," she muttered, as the reflection swirled again. "They're not there. Nobody's there." She frowned as she saw the empty room around them again.

"What place is that?" Malfoy asked.

"Ron's older brother's house in Romania," Hermione quickly lied.

"Romania?" When she nodded, he said, "Perhaps Weasley's not as dirt poor as I thought he was." Malfoy looked at her in an odd way. "Why did you think they'd be in Romania? How on earth could they get there in such short time?"

"It was just a suspicion." She shrugged. "I thought they were there."

"Well, they're not."

Was it just her imagination, or did Malfoy seem a little more pleased when he said that? But before she could ask him, he'd already captured her hand again. "Come on," he told her, as he pulled her away from the mirror. "We have something else to do."

"What's that?"

"I'm going to tour you around Malfoy Manor."