Adaptation

Chapter 4

'I still can't believe you spent today babysitting Malfoy! That useless git...you should have told Harry to find someone else to help out,' Ron grumbled, visibly unhappy.

Hermione sighed and poured herself another goblet of pumpkin juice. She was tired from the day's travels in London. She struggled with the pitcher and spilled some of the juice onto the crisp white tablecloth. Frowning, but too exasperated to care too much, she redirected her attention to something else.

'Ron, please. I already told you to forget about it. It was not a friendly visit. Malfoy is not our friend. Harry just had some important business to take care of,' Hermione reasoned. 'Talking about Malfoy is not very romantic now is it?'

'Yeah I suppose not,' Ron said rather gloomily. 'It's just that mum was reminiscing about Fred today and I don't like the thought of you looking out for someone who was on the wrong side of the Battle.'

The two of them were on their fourth date. The transition from friends to more than friends had been surprisingly cautious. For the most part it was Hermione's will that had resulted in the situation. Things had been so traumatic and eventful that waiting awhile until her mind was clear seemed like the 'rational' thing to do.

At first this seemed like an odd approach. She and Ron were so close already that taking that next step was an option that seemed so obvious. They were a team, they were inseparable. Mere friendship was not enough. Hermione knew her strong feelings could no longer be contained. Yet she was irked by the possibility of things not working out, and the thought of the friendship being severed or damaged in some way...something that she knew would cripple her if it happened. She wanted to be happy with Ron. I just want to be sure, she told herself.

Hermione knew love was generally accepted as being an irrational force, pulling and pushing one to do all sorts of things without true logic. So she often thought she was being too cautious but she did not know how to just let things progress without some sort of guidance. She liked certainty and order, despite having taken risks at certain stages in her life.

Ron's mood appeared to be worsening. He was hungry. He was also irritated that Hermione pushed back their plans due to her day's adventures and was now too tired and worn out to really enjoy going out tonight.

'Ron...' Hermione began. She reached across the table and put her hand on Ron's. 'Are you alright?'

'Yeah, I'm alright. I'm with you, I suppose,' he said, with a soft smile.

'That's more like it.'

***

Late at night, Draco found himself lying on the floor of his room in the dark. He laid there eerily still on the burgundy rug, staring at nothingness. His back ached and his neck was stiff. But he didn't care for comfort. His head throbbed. His limbs felt heavy.

It was raining outside. The steady pitter-patter of the rain on the roof was the only sound Draco could hear, other than the sound of his own breathing. Sometimes he held his breath for moments at a time, then exhaling as if trying to expel the deep sorrow from within him. It was hardly therapeutic and was most likely making him feel dizzier than ever.

Eventually Draco decided to have a late night bath for no particular reason. He struggled to get off the floor and when he did manage to pick himself up he almost fell over for his body wasn't quite up to the task of holding itself up. He hadn't eaten since returning from meeting Harry.

He fumbled his way in the dark to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and switched on the light, which only dimly lit the room. Draco sat by the bathtub and turned on the tap, letting the water run for awhile before putting the plug in the drain. Eventually the lukewarm water filled enough of the tub. Draco gingerly undressed and slipped into the water.

He sat still in the bathtub for several minutes. He desperately wanted to get rid of the heavy feeling he was carrying in his chest. The weight of the pain of loss and expected loss made it difficult for him to feel anything but awful. He wanted to cry but could not. It was a curse to be too proud to shed tears in this moment for he could not release any of the trapped heartbreak. So it sat there in him, and he sat in the tub in the still water.

He felt as vulnerable as ever. It was not just that he was naked in that moment. He turned his head and noticed a cracked tile on the wall, noticed the pale yellow half cake of soap in the soap holder, saw how small the bathroom was, with its low ceiling and simple features. He almost felt like laughing out loud at the absurdity of it all. Imagine, a Malfoy living in these surroundings. Well here he was.

He thought of the pity in Hermione's eyes when they had parted ways earlier that day. She was looking down on him, not the other way around. Draco had immediately felt a rush of anger but then reminded himself of how pathetic he must have appeared to her. He had thought of how the witch would probably read about his parents' fate in the Daily Prophet soon and his spirit was wounded even more. He had stared back at those eyes and then she left.

How he longed for the world he knew best. For a wand of his own. For the comforts he had once enjoyed. Everything had been taken for granted.

I can't stand much more of this, Draco thought wearily. It was all too hard, to get by like this day after day. He thought of the few possessions he had locked away in the closet or under the bed. He could put on his robes...

No, Draco scolded himself. You'll just feel worse.

He shook that thought from his mind. Reaching for the soap he then began to scrub himself clean, perhaps too vigorously. With energy sourced from desperation he scrubbed his skin raw, trying to wash off the dirt of the Muggle world. Finally, even more exhausted than before, he dropped the soap into the water and gave up. The water, murky from the suds, lapped around him as he moved his legs.

Slumping against the side of the tub, the blond wizard wearily conceded that today's encounter with Harry Potter had been the closest contact with his previous home he had had in awhile. Reminding himself that his parents were soon to be finished with, he wondered about how long he could last like this.

***

Hermione was at The Burrow with Ron and Harry when she heard about Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Harry, having known about it for more than a week, made a few insightful comments about their comeuppance but then went back to his breakfast without uttering another word about it. He knew Lucius was finally getting what he deserved, but he had already spent a great deal of time feeling victorious and vindicated about the fall of the Dark Lord that he did not feel the need to keep harping on about it. Good had prevailed over evil. Harry, unlike the media, did not want to continually paint himself as the saviour of all wizardkind!

Narcissa in the end had deceived Voldemort and helped Harry when he was feigning death that fateful night months ago. It was her concern about Draco that sort of haunted Harry in a strange way, thus why he had felt compelled to meet Draco days ago.

'I might go find Ginny,' Harry wondered out loud.

Ron smirked, as did Hermione.

'Don't you two start. You're ones to talk,' Harry added, picking up his plate and putting it in the sink.

When Harry left the room, Ron brought up the subject of the Malfoys once again.

'This is better than Dolores Umbridge being arrested, tried and convicted for crimes against Muggle-borns!' he said with glee. 'Do you reckon Kingsley will bow down to these calls for the death penalty? Percy is not telling me anything!'

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic, had decided that Azkaban should no longer employ Dementors like before. Without the Dementor's kiss as the number one punishment for grave crimes, some members of the public were calling for the death penalty to be introduced for such serious crimes as assisting Voldemort.

'I don't know. The whole reason he introduced those reforms was to make the wizarding world a safer and sunnier place. The death penalty doesn't seem consistent with that,' Hermione reasoned. 'A lifetime in Azkaban is pretty good as a punishment, though I suppose for really heinous crimes I can see why people would demand something more than that.'

'Is this why Harry wanted to meet with Malfoy last week?' Ron asked.

'Maybe. Malfoy seemed pretty defeated at the time that's for sure.'

Hermione felt herself feeling sorry for Draco. She was angry at herself for feeling that way, even though the feeling did not come around too often. Something kept reminding her than Draco was a person too not just this monster who had helped terrorize the wizarding world.

'Anyway,' Hermione moved on. 'So you're going to help out George at the store today?'

Ron had started working at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He hadn't quite figured out what he wanted to do yet in terms of his career so helping his brother out seemed like a good way to go for the time being.

'Yep, I'm working the whole day. We should meet for lunch in Diagon Alley. Or afternoon tea. That's if George doesn't make something explode today. I don't want to work overtime to clean up his messes.'

Hermione laughed.

'Well I'll see how long my visit to my parents takes. Either way I'll meet you at the store.'

Ron smiled contently. He gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek before dashing off to his room to get changed into his work clothes.

Hermione was going to visit her parents. Having reversed the memory charm she had placed on them previously to protect them from Death Eater reprisals, her parents had recently moved back to England from Australia. She still went out of her way to withhold from them the absolute truth about what really happened in the last year or so, but she had told them some things and had explained why she did what she did.

They now resided in London and had set up a new dental clinic. Hermione would visit them at the clinic and then head back to Diagon Alley. She also intended to visit Mr Ollivander at his store (currently being restored for its reopening) to see how he was.

The thought of Mr Ollivander brought back memories of being in Malfoy Manor. Another reminder of Malfoy, she thought. It was crazy to her to think that Draco would be in such relative close proximity when she ventured back to Muggle London. She could very easily find her way back to the bus stop where she had last seen him, though she did not know exactly where he was residing.

But why would I ever need to find him? she thought.