The Sweetest Sin

Chapter 16: Ice

Hermione woke up shivering. The air around her was frigid; so cold, in fact, that Hermione felt as though her eyes were frozen shut. Momentarily oblivious as to her surroundings, she blinked twice with some difficulty, then opened her eyes and looked straight up.

She was lying in some sort of a bed. Above her spread a pale grey canopy while hangings of a similar colour were pushed back, leaving Hermione exposed to the freezing air. The only form of protection she had against the cold was a thin blanket, also grey. This Hermione pulled up to her chin as she hugged herself tightly in an attempt to keep herself warm.

Feeling slightly dazed, Hermione's eyes wandered around the room, taking in the plain white walls and ceiling. The floor, made of polished wooden boards, was spotless. A single lamp hung from the center of the ceiling, shedding a dim orange glow over the foot of Hermione's bed.

"Hello?" she whispered, her voice cracking. There was no one else in the room so Hermione did not expect an answer, but the sound of her voice managed to assure her that she was in fact awake and not dreaming.

Just then, a quiet pop shattered the silence and Draco apparated into the room. His mouth was set into a deep frown and his eyebrows were furrowed together in a worried expression. When he saw that Hermione was awake, the lines of stress on his face seemed to ease away slightly.

Walking over to the right side of the bed, Draco conjured up a hard-backed wooden chair and sat down on it. For a few seconds, he observed Hermione who, at the moment, felt too groggy to even wonder why he was here. At length, Draco spoke up.

"How are you doing?"

Hermione attempted to shrug, but found that her muscles were too stiff from the cold to move. Therefore, she settled for a wince.

"You could be doing worse," said Draco grimly. He raised an eyebrow when Hermione pulled the sheets up further, then resumed talking. "I got rid of them just in time. They were going to kill you, you know."

"I never would have guessed," mumbled Hermione sarcastically.

Ignoring her response, Draco leaned over and touched his fingers to a deep wound on Hermione's cheek. She grimaced and jerked her head away from his touch.

"That will take a few more days to heal," he murmured to himself. "And your body needs more time to recover from the strain of the curses."

"Were you the one who saved me then?" asked Hermione, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Yes."

"I suppose I should thank you," she said grudgingly.

Draco shook his head. "No. Don't bother. It was...it was my fault."

Stunned that Draco was actually taking the blame for something, Hermione said nothing. Instead, she shifted slightly under the blanket, trying to arrange herself into a more comfortable position. All the while, Draco continued to watch her.

"I had intended to return earlier, but business held me up. I had no idea they would...well, do what they did. When I walked into the sitting room, I found them crowded around you, laughing while they attempted to make you do their bidding with the -- I'm going to assume -- Imperio curse?"

Hermione silently nodded.

"I pushed them away and ordered them to get of my house, then brought you up here. I had a Healer I know come in and heal your wounds then put you into a dreamless sleep. You've been sleeping here for two days now."

"Two days?" repeated Hermione, surprised that she had been here for so long.

Draco nodded. "Two days," he echoed softly.

Sighing, Hermione rolled over on her side so that she was facing Draco. "You know," she said, "you didn't have to save me."

He stared at her, his expression suddenly cold. "Why would I not?" he asked in a forced voice.

"I didn't think you would care about a filthy little Mudblood like me," replied Hermione casually. Though the tone of her voice was light, she was watching Draco carefully.

Draco's eyes flashed, then he replied shortly, "I don't."

"Then why did you do it?"

There was silence. Then, Draco said stiffly, "I'll leave you to rest now. The Healer should drop by later this afternoon to see how you're doing. I expect you to be back on your feet in three days. The children" -- he paused briefly, then finished his sentence -- "have not seen you for too long."

As Draco began pushing back his chair to stand up, Hermione said quickly, "Wait!"

He stopped and looked at her. "What?"

"What happened to Iris?"

Every last droplet of blood seemed to drain from Draco's face, leaving his complexion paper white. His eyes widened as they stared at Hermione in disbelief and shock. With a clatter, his wand fell from his suddenly-limp hand; however, he paid no attention to it.

Hermione steadily held Draco's gaze, waiting for him to answer. She had expected this kind of reaction, and was not fazed one bit by it.

"How...how did you...you didn't..."

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione replied, "Yes I did."

Swaying slightly, Draco was forced to grip the edge of the bed tightly as he struggled to remain upright. His mouth silently opened then closed three times, but words failed him. Finally, his features distorted into a grimace of pain very uncharacteristic of a Malfoy.

Still, Hermione remained calm. She waited for him to answer her question.

Then, without any warning, Draco stood up abruptly. He started to back away, but Hermione was too quick for him -- she grabbed the sleeve of his robes and pulled him back down onto his seat.

"Tell me," she hissed, still clutching his robes.

For a split second, Draco looked as if he were going to whip out his wand and hex Hermione. Then, much to her surprise, he slumped over. It was if all the life had just been sucked out of him as his shoulders slumped and he ceased strug gling against her hold.

When Draco spoke, his voice chilled Hermione even more than the frigid air around them. "You want to know about Iris?" he whispered icily, turning his eyes to hers. "The Dark Lord killed her. He murdered her behind this very mansion as I was forced to stand by and watch...Watch as he tortured her, watch as his Death Eaters -- my friends -- tortured her mercilessly, watch as her eyes begged me to save her. And then he told me to hold her hand while he killed her."

"You --"

"It was then that I began the life I had been damned to since the start -- one of cold, unyielding emptiness. After I lost her, my world became black and white."

"But there --"

"You will never understand," he spat out bitterly. Venom was laced into his words as he tore his sleeve out of Hermione's grasp. "You have never loved and lost as I have."

"Draco, stop!" cried Hermione as he began to stand up again.

Both of them froze. Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, stunned that she had said his first name out loud.

"Don't leave," she hurriedly said as she gathered the sheets around her and forced herself off of the bed. As her feet hit the cold floor, she stumbled. His hand instinctively shot out and grabbed her forearm to help her steady herself.

Ignoring the warm, tingling feeling that was beginning to spread throughout the arm Draco was holding, Hermione whispered, "Is that why you saved me?"

Draco looked away. "Yes."

Without thinking, Hermione reached up, placed her hand against the side of Draco's face, and gently turned his head so that he was looking at her again. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly.

He was so close to her that breathing soon became a difficult feat. However, unlike the first time Hermione had lost breath being so close to Draco, it was not an unpleasant sensation. In fact, as her head began to spin, she couldn't help but notice how captivating his eyes were. Like a layer of ice over liquid silver, she found herself thinking.

After what felt -- though in reality, it was probably much shorter -- like hours, Draco let go of Hermione's arm and backed away. He had an odd, unreadable expression written across his face. Hermione blushed and quickly shifted her gaze to the floor when she realised what had happened.

"You know," he said softly, breaking the silence that had ensued after Hermione's words of sympathy and causing her to look up at him, "I thought I had forgotten the sound of her screams until two nights ago."

With that, he turned on his heel and apparated out of the room.

Now alone, Hermione took a step backward and fell onto the bed. She suddenly felt exhausted and breathless. For once, her head was flooded with answers rather than questions. At last, she had discovered the full truth about what had made Draco isolate himself from the people around him, what had made him so...heartless. It was not childhood grudges that made him such a detestable person; it was a broken heart.

Hermione briefly recalled the feel of his hand on her arm and trembled involuntarily. The warmth that had resulted from their skin making contact still lingered despite the cold air. Feeling absolutely worn out, Hermione lay back down on the bed and hugged the sheets around her. Within moments, she had fallen asleep.