The Cards We're Dealt

The Cards We're Dealt

"There's always that one person that will always have your heart, you never see it coming 'cause you're blinded from the start...."

-Usher

Indeed. One person can capture your heart in an instance, and it will forever be theirs. We do not choose our destinies, contrary to popular belief. There is a force higher than humanity and lower than the gods and goddesses who have that power. Like a game of poker we have to live with the hand we're dealt, our cards cannot be replaced, as our futures cannot be changed by human hands. The cards that were dealt to Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy on December 28^th were of a deck dealt by Aphrodite...none were more surprised than they...

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Hermione was walking to the common room after Transfiguration, just like any other day, with one exception. She was walking alone. Usually Ron and Harry were there to accompany her, but today they had to meet in the Entrance Hall with Angelina Johnson for an Emergency Quidditch Meeting, apparently, one of the "team spies" had caught wind of a new play that was sure to ruin Gryffindor's chance at winning the cup this year. So of course they had to stay, Hermione thought bitterly. She was always jealous that they had their own physical activity that they could partake in, she however never had that privilege, because she was accustomed to Muggle sports, and not very many Hogwarts' students new much about tennis. (Ron found it quite hysterical that the tennis scoring agreed with him, "love counted for nothing") She often would be caught by Harry staring off into space, thinking about the tournaments she used to win before she turned eleven years old. Ron, of course, was too daft to notice anything of the sort.

It was December 2^nd and they had not yet been released from lessons for the Holiday. Hermione was staying this year, as she had every year, except this year would be different, because she was Head Girl. Ron and Harry aren't allowed into her common room (the Heads had to share a common room, and got their own dormitories, and of course Malfoy had to be Head Boy, great prat) so she would be alone. With the exception of Malfoy, and he hardly counted as company. However, now that she thought about it, Malfoy was looking paler than he usually did, and Hermione noticed that that was saying something.

Lessons were over for the day so instead of heading to the common room as previously planned, she turned a sharp right and headed for the library. If Harry and Ron saw she was out of the common room (they probably wouldn't) they would figure she was asleep or in the library. On her journey, Hermione had some time to think about some things...Harry and Ron had become more distant with her lately, she didn't know if it's because of her having new living space and not being around, or if it was something else, but one way or the other, she was losing her best friends and it hurt.

As she was walking through the big heavy doors to the library she saw Madame Pince arguing with a new French student about library etiquette. She didn't think that sat too well with Madame Pince (she was used to being in charge on her territory). She headed for the back row of the library, near the Restricted Section, and saw a bundle of robes (which she presumed to be a person) sitting in her normal seat, anyone who went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry already knew that this is where Hermione sat everyday. She figured they may be a new student so she went to shake them awake and tell them they could head down to the Great Hall for dinner. As soon as she touched the bundle, however, a head shot straight up and she recognized Malfoy, looking disheveled.

"What do you want Granger? Is there a reason you have tainted my purity with your filthy Mudblood hands?" he asked in a dangerously low whisper, so as not to draw the stern librarian away from her argument.

Hermione saw the pain etched into every line of his face, even if it was only there for a fleeting second. Over the years her senses had sharpened, one had to become accustomed when being best friends with Harry Potter. But whether his pain was physical or emotional, she could not tell, because Malfoy had replaced his cool mask just as quick, if not quicker, than he had let it slip.

"I'm just curious, Malfoy, why it is that you're sitting in my seat," she said softly, she tried her hardest not to let her temper get to her, even after the insult, she was always there for someone who needed her, even if it was Malfoy.

"That, Granger, is none of your business, your name is not on this table, now if you'll excuse me, I have some more sleeping to do," he replied harshly and laid his head back down. He did not expect the soft voice that spoke moments later, though h knew she had stayed where she was and watched him.

"You weren't asleep," she accused in the same soft voice. She refused to change the tone of her voice for fear of what she might say to set him off again. For some reason she always felt hurt when he insulted her, even though he had been doing it for seven years now, and for some reason if anyone else did it, it didn't bother her. Maybe it was because when others insulted her, they did it laughingly, Malfoy, however did not. His every insult was laced with malice and contempt, as if everything wrong in the world had been her fault. He never picked on other Muggle-borns, ever, just her.

"And that's your business how Granger? I always knew you were a nosy little witch but I never thought you would resort to snooping into my business you filthy disgusting Mudblood. Why don't you run off and find Scarhead? I'm sure he'll let you nose your way into his problems, but stay the hell away from me and mine, you are not worthy to kiss the ground I walk on, much less speak to me."

Her eyes widened, she didn't know what his problem was, but he had never insulted her like that, there was the occasional yell of Mudblood, or Potty and Weasel, but he had never gone this far. She didn't expect it to hurt, she didn't expect to care, but it stung. Her eyes flooded with tears, and she expected the hot, fast tears that flowed freely down her face fast and unwavering, but instead a single tear rolled down her face and dropped onto the table because she was still kneeling next to it. Malfoy looked almost sorry for a second, but once again his cool mask was put back into place, and she didn't see his moment of regret, Hermione couldn't stand it anymore, she knew she wasn't acting like herself, but instead of leaving the library, hexing Malfoy, or slapping the hell out of him, she decided to ask him something.

"Why me?" she asked suddenly, and in an even softer voice than before, so Malfoy had to strain to hear her, her voice strained from held back tears.

"What are you babbling about?" he spat at her, trying and failing miserably to sound dangerous this time.

She winced at his again harsh words. "Why me? Why did you choose my life to make miserable?"

He laughed in her face. "Because you are a Mudblood, you are impure; you don't deserve to be in this school or on this planet."

"No, no, no," she said looking rather disheveled. "I mean, why did you choose me? You never insult any other Muggle-born in the school, why did it have to be me? Did you just randomly choose or something? I mean give me a reason, just one and I'll never bother you again. I just need to know, was it something I did? Or said? Or is there another reason? I'm not blind or oblivious to the fact that you talk about me sometimes during lessons." She grimaced as she recalled accounts of hearing "Look at the Mudblood bitch!"

Malfoy looked as he usually did on the outside, calm, cool, collected, but on the inside, his thoughts were fleeting in his head, rushing around trying to gain a sense of logic. Why did he choose to pick on her and not the others? Why her? She was right. He would never admit this aloud to anyone, but he could not think of an explanation to give her, so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"I do not have to explain myself to you, I have the choice here, I have the upper hand, I'm smarter, better and stronger than you. You don't deserve to have my reasoning. And you will never have it."

Another single tear rolled down Hermione's face, but as she slowly wiped it away, she knew that she would never tell Harry or Ron about this exchange, they would be surprised at how she acted, hell she was surprised at how she had acted. She looked at Malfoy one last time, saw his cold grey stormy eyes, and realized he wouldn't back down, not to her, not to a Mudblood and her emotions. She looked away quickly and whispered, "I was only going to ask what was wrong with you." She turned on her heel and walked out of the library, did not look back, did not wipe her tears away, did not pay attention to the librarian who was still arguing with her student. She also did not notice Malfoy, who was still sitting at the table, leaning around to watch her.

For the first time in his life someone had cared what was wrong with him, for the first time in his life someone had been concerned, and for the first time she had looked at him without hatred, and he pushed her away, insulted her, made her cry. For the first time in all his life, Draco Malfoy wanted to apologize to someone, for the first time, he felt regret.