Flame of Existence

--> See Introduction for warnings/disclaimer.

FLAME OF EXISTENCE
/ by Bella

Chapter Nine

It was almost impossible for Draco Malfoy to hear his own thoughts with his father’s voice raised so high. He was sitting on the couch, expelled from Hogwarts, being criticized by his own father for being a failure.

It wasn’t like Lucius to yell at his son with such intensity, but with the war being over and a lot of the negative attention being on him at the moment, how else could he react? So far, he had done a pretty good job at convincing the Ministry that he had been under the Imperio during Voldemort’s last reign, and that he has –successfully– converted back to his normal, good-doing self.

Having his son being caught raping (or have raped, in this case) a witch definitely wouldn’t give him any cookie points, that’s for sure. Lucius felt like a bit of a hypocrite, having raped many witches and women before.

However, he had to keep reminding himself that he really wasn’t scolding his son for doing the act, per se, but more for getting caught. Secrecy was something that had been a big factor in the survival of the Death Eaters over the years. If secrecy hadn’t played a part, the Aurors would have taken them out in no time.

He tried to explain the concept of doing things quietly, and that it was important to clean up after oneself, to Draco.

“The magical world is filled with mostly good wizards, Draco,” Lucius said as he took a seat beside his son. “But there are a few exceptions, this family being one of them.”

Draco nodded, finally listening now that his father had calmed down a notch.

“Right now, I’m in a sticky position, and you know that. Start using your head, Draco.” Lucius’s temper flared again and his pale skin reddened a bit. “I have been trying to convince the Ministry that I am good, understand?”

Once again, Draco nodded and looked down at his shoes, embarrassed with finally understanding what a bind he had put his father in.

“You will have to go to a hearing now, all because you got caught. That Granger chit is going to get you sent away, most likely. You’ve already been expelled from school. The Ministry won’t take money because of that new do-good Minister, Falcone, or whatever his name is.” Lucius’s hands clenched into fists, then loosened as he talked himself into calming down.

“You have to fix your own situation now, Draco. I can be of no service, seeing as I have my own ass to save.”

“But, Father–“ Draco’s eyes widened a bit as he heard his father tell him that he was practically giving up on him.

“Once again, use your head, boy. Take care of it.” Lucius stood and exited the study from one of the side doors that led out into the large estate’s gardens.

Draco sat still on the comfortable sofa, wondering what he was going to do, when it dawned on him what his father’s words had implied.

The mudblood. He had to take care of the mudblood.

Draco stood up quickly and went up to his room, his mind swimming. As he laid down on the bed, he fought back the urge to cry. He didn’t want to kill anyone. Hell, he didn’t even want to rape the stupid chit. He had been drunk, and he had fucked up.

Big time.

Now, the only grounds in which Draco regretted raping the chit was that he got caught. Her feelings meant nothing to him – it was just how it went.

She was the first witch he had ever taken by force, and he had been shit-faced drunk.

After the incident occurred, and once his stomach had emptied itself of the alcohol, Draco had realized what he had done. Pride stopped him from apologizing, and his reputation amongst his friends had forced him to tease her about it.

Truth be told, he was only taunting her that second time because he was putting on a show for Crabbe and Goyle. They had been lurking in the empty classroom, watching through a crack in the door. It had been more of a dare, really.

Oh, bloody hell, Draco thought as he rubbed his aching eyes.

He couldn’t kill the witch, even if he tried. He hated her with a passion, but he didn’t have it in him to actually murder anyone. His father had called him and his family evil, but that didn’t mean that Draco could live up to his father’s abilities that reached far beyond rape.

He had to find a solution, and soon... With or without his bloody father’s help.

{--------------------------------------------}

Hermione Granger sat in her tower room looking out her window towards the quidditch field where she saw little figures fly around on their broomsticks, practicing. She subconsciously knew that one of those people was her Harry, and another Ron, but she didn’t wish to know any more than that.

Sighing for a brief moment, Hermione laid her head down on her folded arms and closed her eyes.

Dumbledore really is a good wizard, Hermione thought to herself as the evening sunshine warmed her face.

So he had known that she had been raped all along, but decided not to do anything about it. Smart move, seeing as she probably would have denied everything at the time. He gave her room to realize what had happened, and accept it.

Though it had only been a short while after the incident, Hermione was truly finding herself coping with what had happened. Her heart had been ripped and she was in the process of healing the wound, along with the help of...

Snape. He truly was helping her, wasn’t he?

Hermione sighed again and sat up. There is no explaining that wizard. He is as moody and bitter as the day is long. And on top of that, he kept freaking out whenever she got too close.

Swimming in the endless sea of questions concerning her professor, Hermione went into the bathroom and started the tap so that she could take a long bath.

When she was undressed and safely under the water, her mind drifted from Snape to her best friends.

They were acting so weird lately, yet she couldn’t put a finger on it. They had all been so close before everything happened. Even Ron, though he had turned into some promiscuous man-slut. She still loved him as she would a brother, and the same with Harry.

But it was like they had all been ignoring her on purpose, and it was almost to the point where it physically sickened her. She needed somebody to listen to her, besides her Headmaster. She wanted friends to run to when she felt depressed or down.

They had always been supportive of her, even during her S.P.E.W. transition phase. So, she had turned a little rebellious for a few days there, but she was getting back to her normal self. Sure, she had pushed them away. But good friends would just keep pushing back. Even Harry... He had come to her wondering what was wrong, but then it was just like... BAM. He didn’t care anymore.

Hermione felt the tears roll down her cheeks. So they didn’t care. She got it.

Sniffling a little and playing with the bubbles around her stomach, Hermione decided that she really didn’t need them, anyway.

{--------------------------------------------}

Quidditch practice was just ending when Harry and Ron noticed Dumbledore approaching them. Placing their broomsticks on the ground, they closed the gap and smiled at their Headmaster.

“Good evening, Harry, Ron.” Dumbledore smiled at them. “How is the season looking so far?”

Harry grinned. “Fantastic, sir. I think we’re all excited for it to start.”

Ron nodded quickly, smiling. “We’ve got a good captain too, sir.” Ron clapped Harry on the back, laughing.

“I agree with you, Mr. Weasley. Actually, do you two remember how I asked you to give Miss Granger some distance?” When they nodded, Dumbledore said, “She has been through a hard time lately, as I told you before. And, I think she’s ready to talk to you. She hasn’t said so, but I think it would be wise for you to go to her.”

“What happened, Professor?” Harry asked, his brows knitting.

“That is not my place to tell you, Mr. Potter.” The Headmaster nodded at each of them and turned. “Have a goodnight, and think about what I said.”

Harry watched Dumbledore walk quickly back to the castle and turned to look at Ron. “Shall we go see her now, Ron?”

Ron shook his head. “I’d love to, mate, but I’ve got a date.”

“On a Monday?” Harry asked.

Ron picked up his broomstick and hit Harry on the arm lightly. “Of course I’m the Ron-ster. Anyway, I’ll talk to you later. Tell me how it goes with ‘Mione, will ya?”

With that, Ron ran towards the castle to get ready for his date, leaving Harry standing there with only his thoughts and a fading sunset.

Frustration bubbled at Harry’s core. He was so tired of Ron being so apathetic towards everything he once cared about. He didn’t get it, really. When had his best friend turned into such a prat?

Harry grabbed his belongings and made his way up the to the castle, deciding that he would talk to Hermione in the morning when he was fully awake.

The walk up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room seemed to take forever on Harry’s already aching legs.

He passed by Professor Snape on his way up, who looked generally pissed off, which wasn’t that big of a surprise. To Harry, that man always looked pissed off about something or another. Finally, when he reached the common room entrance, he mumbled the password and went straight for his bed.

{--------------------------------------------}

Hermione decided that she would most like to die, when her time came, by drowning. As she sat in her bathtub in her Head Girl’s rooms, she continued to dip her head in and out of the water for minutes at a time. She wasn’t trying to kill herself, but more calm herself down. After her thoughts about her two friends, she had become a bit lethargic.

Completely under the water, Hermione mused at how noises were amplified there. She tapped her finger on the edge of the tub and listened to the beating, amused. Once, she thought she heard knocking on her door, but she passed it off as the pipes.

Plus, she really wasn’t in the mood to do any talking, anyway.

Emerging from the water again, Hermione sat back red-faced from holding her breath. Her eyes shut, she let her mind drift back to Snape, who had been constantly the center of her mind as of the past few days.

She sat upright. Snape. Dumbledore hadn’t excused her from detention, had he?

Practically leaping out of the tub, Hermione grabbed her wand and did a quick drying spell, which left her hair frizzy and untamable. She dressed quickly and ran down the stairs two at a time, praying that she wouldn’t fall.

When she reached the classroom, she found him sitting in a chair positioned in the corner with his arms crossed, and his face not without his usual scowl.

“It is eight-thirty, Miss Granger. I went to your rooms.” With his face set, he slowly got out of the chair. “I will not continue to be disrespected by you, Miss Granger. I take my detentions very seriously. They serve a purpose, and that purpose is to remind the student that he or she has done something worth punishment.”

Hermione opened and closed her mouth, looking straight back at him. She wanted to say so much, but her mind was reeling again in those same questions she had repeatedly asked herself earlier.

Finally, she breathed in deeply and said, “I’m sorry. Not only for being late to your class, but hugging you... twice. I am aware that you don’t tolerate tardiness, believe me, and I apologize. I also am aware that you are a very lonely wizard who can’t receive a genuine hug without responding as if you had been burned, and I am truly sorry for burning you.” He had been about to interrupt when she raised her hand to stop any incoming words.

“It is true, and you know it,” she said with the same confidence she felt when she had been rebellious those few days the week before. “You are a coward in almost every sense of the word.”

Snape felt like he had been backed into a corner by an eighteen-year-old Gryffindor. “Miss Granger, you have no–“

“Idea, sir? Yes, I know quite well what you have done for the Order. But, sir, that doesn’t pertain to what is going on here.”

As if bored, he responded. “What is going on here, little girl?”

“I am telling you that you are a coward for hiding from your feelings, sir.”

Stopping quickly, Hermione felt the sudden urge to run from the room. She had surprised herself at saying that so mindlessly. She was implying something that probably wasn’t even there, but why?

Truth be told, she had always had a small crush on Professor Snape for his intelligence at brewing potions, and then for his duty to the light. However, she never thought she would be in the position where that small, insignificant crush could become quite significant. In all reality, he had helped her and raised her thoughts of him... And it was only at that moment that Hermione realized that she was fighting back the urge to jump onto his person and snog him into tomorrow.

Snape retorted quickly, “What are you–“

“Ah, hell,” Hermione said quickly before she lowered that wall and, literally, jumped onto him and crushed her mouth to his.


End of Chapter Nine / To Be Continued!


A/N: Wow! Your reviews this past week have been so motivational! I hope the lot of you like this chapter! :) I do realize that Draco seems a lot different in this chapter, but please remember that he is back at home now and without the influence of his peers. :D

So, do me a huge favor and tell me what you think. <33