Questions of Science

Disclaimer: Negative on the ownership

A/N: yeah, ok I’ve never written a chapter this short. :D don’t worry, I’ll make the next chapter A LOT longer and much better than this one…

Don’t forget to leave me a teensy review pretty pretty please :D


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Chapter 4: You Say I’m Not Your Type

At three on the dot, Hermione showed up outside Malfoy’s double doors and knocked. He opened the door for her and led her to his own office. She sat down on the couch that was near his desk and he took a seat on the other end of the couch.

“Did you finish your work?” Hermione asked as she got out her quill and set it to automatically dictate the conversation.

“Yes.” He said as he put his legs up on the coffee table in front of him.

‘Well it’s good that he’s getting comfortable around me.’ Hermione thought.

“Are you ready to start?”

“Start what?” he asked, leaning his head against the back of the couch.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions about your mother, a few about your experiences with her.”

“Ok.” He said and closed his eyes.

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” she asked.

“Nope.” He said.

“I guess I’ll start then. Now, can you tell me how your mother was during your childhood?” she asked and watched him.

“When I was younger, before I went to Hogwarts, she never really showed any problems. She was just a regular mum. Took care of me, played games with me, read me stories before I went to bed, those sorts of things.” He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione.

“She never seemed upset or afraid?” Hermione asked.

“Not that I can recall. She would always smile whenever she’d see me; she would also laugh a lot. I’m guessing that maybe she was trying to put on a mask for me, so that I wouldn’t suspect anything wrong with her.”

“You’re probably right. Her file says that she was abused very early on in her marriage and she probably repressed those abuses and covered them up whenever you were around.” Hermione said. “A lot of victims of spousal abuse do that when they have children.”

Draco just nodded.

“Can you tell me more about your childhood Malfoy; what you remember of it? Just start with your earliest memories.” Hermione asked.

Draco thought for a moment. “My earliest memory would probably be the time when my parents bought me the house-elves that are in your wing. I wasn’t yet old enough to understand servitude so I treated them like pets, friends. I would try to play with them, but they always said that I would get into trouble if my father caught me. I was so stubborn though; I would follow them around and spook them, and just try and play with them but it never worked.”

“That’s a tough form of rejection at such a young age.” Hermione said. “Did your father ever find out?”

“No, he wasn’t around much when I was younger. I knew deep down that I never loved him. Even as a father. I used to tell my mum that I wanted to run away and take her with me to some faraway place, where he wouldn’t bother us. He never hit me or abused me in any way, but his words cut deep though.”

“That’s a form of abuse. The emotional abuse he inflicted on you with his words. Not many people consider it to be abuse, but it can sometimes be more detrimental than physical or sexual abuse.”

“Well, then my mother got the package deal. All three of those.” Draco said with a hint of malice in his voice.

“Can I ask you what got you to the point to become a death eater?” Hermione boldly asked.

Draco looked into her eyes. Her brown eyes, they weren’t honey or golden with specks of whatever, they were just brown. They were a startling contrast to his light grey eyes. The ones that could give away his emotions if he didn’t conceal them. He found her ‘just brown’ eyes to have a mysterious quality. Dark, hidden, and mysterious.

Hermione noticed that he had paused and still hadn’t answered her. “It’s ok Malfoy, you don’t have to answer, I know that’s a personal question and we can move on.”

Draco kept looking at her eyes making her feel a bit as if she was the one under the spotlight. “No, it’s fine. I want to answer, I just don’t know how.”

“Take your time, I’ll be here awhile.” Hermione said with a smile.

“My father really left me no choice. He told me that I was worth nothing since I couldn’t even beat a muggleborn at school, couldn’t beat Potter at Quidditch, and couldn’t even make friends with the right people. To him, I was worthless. He said the only way he could even begin to show any pride in me was if I joined the Death Eaters. So, like any idiot would, I did.”

“You weren’t an idiot. You were a normal teenage boy looking for at least some affection from the primary male-figure in your life. You needed the reassurance that you weren’t a total screw-up in your father’s eyes and plus, you were taught from a very young age that hate and violence were the ways to solve your problems.”

“Yes, but I was old enough to make my own decisions, and I still chose to serve the Dark Lord.” Draco said.

“You were only sixteen, Malfoy. That age is a confusing, emotional, troubled time for every teenager. You want to have independence and yet you still depend on your parents for care and attention. Try not to blame yourself too much, because any person in your position with a father like Lucius Malfoy would have done the exact same thing.”

“I really am sorry for calling you those names back at school. Looking back on it, I feel like I was such an immature child.”

“It’s ok. We’ve all grown up, realized our mistakes and it’s time we move on.” Hermione said, studying the way his lips almost turned upward, but then stopped. ‘Damn.’ She thought. ‘So close.’

“Can I ask you some questions, or are you not finished psychoanalyzing me.” Draco said with a serious face.

“I’m not psychoanalyzing you. I was seeing if maybe your past experiences could help with your mother.”

“You were so psychoanalyzing me; you probably didn’t even realize it. Everything I said, you had an explanation for. You must do it a lot for you not to notice.”

Hermione just stared at him, in awe, that he could figure her out so quick. “Well, I’m sorry if you feel that way, and yes I might tend to scrutinize people’s thoughts, but it is my job.”

“You use the left side of your brain.” He said out of nowhere.

“What?” she asked.

“You tend to focus on explanations, anything that has proof, mathematics, laws, functions, scientific proof. If you can’t explain it, then you’d rather not worry about it. I’m guessing that’s why you didn’t like divination, also why you might not have an appreciation for art and music, because those things need emotions and feelings in order to be understood.” He said thoughtfully looking over her soft facial features.

“So you’re saying I don’t have emotions or feelings?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I’m not saying that you don’t, you just don’t use them to think. You use reason, rationality and logic to explain things and to understand them. That’s why you use the left side of your brain more. The right side is for emotion and sensation and passion. That’s why artists, musicians are passionate people, emotional people, sensitive people, because they use the right neurological hemisphere.”

“How do you know all of this? It is pretty advanced cognitive studies.” She said, amazed that he knew so much, and that he had described her to a T.

“I told you I read a lot after the war. I still do.” Draco replied.

“Which are you?” she asked.

“You mean, which side of the brain do I use?”

“Yes.” She replied.

“Guess.”

She thought for a moment, thinking about everything he had told her so far. “Your right side.”

“Why do you think that?” he asked, interested in her answer.

“Because you told me that you preferred to read about the liberal arts. You tend to think with your heart instead of your head. I can tell because of the way you treat your mother. You’ll do anything to help her, even put her in the care of your former enemy. Also, as a child you would act on your emotions, fear and anger.” She said.

Draco nodded to what she said. “So if put together, we could make a whole brain.”

She laughed at this and for the first time, Draco smiled. It wasn’t a grin or toothy smile, just a nice closed-mouth smile that made his face seem softer and gentler.

“You smiled.” Hermione dumbly stated out loud.

“Excuse me?” he asked, the smile replace by a confused look.

“I just noticed that you smiled for the first time that I think I’ve ever seen.” She said, diverting her eyes.

“Oh.” He said simply. “Have you figured out why, Miss Psychotherapist?”

She looked back at him and saw him smiling again. She couldn’t help but smile back. He really did look nice with a smile gracing his features and not a frown or a straight line. “You just don’t have a lot of things to smile about, so you tend not to.” She said.

“So why am I smiling now?” he asked.

“I’m not that talented at my job, you’re going to have to figure that out on your own.” She said with an eyebrow raised.

“So back to my original question before you sidetracked me.” He said. “Can I ask you some questions?”

“I’m not sure I follow your line of thinking. It’s almost as if you want to get to know me.” Hermione said.

“Well you are living in my house and treating my mother AND asking questions about me, so I think it only be fair to reciprocate the gesture.” He said.

“Hmm. Ok, you can ask me, but no funny business.” She said as she stopped the quill from dictating and put away her notes.

“Funny business? What do you think I’m going to ask: when do you get your menstrual cycle?” he asked with a suppressed smirk.

“Malfoy! Ok, I don’t want to be asked questions. Thank you for your time.” She said and got up from the couch.

“Oh keep your damn knickers on woman, it was a bloody joke. Now sit back down.” She turned to look at him; he had that same smile he had first given her. ‘Damn that smile.’ She thought. ‘I’m beginning to think I liked it better when he didn’t use it.’

“Fine, but like I said, none of that nonsense.” She said, ungracefully sitting back on the couch.

“Ok, so now I know what subject to avoid.” He said jokingly, but she shot him an annoyed look, which softened when she saw he was clearly enjoying himself. “Are you still friends with Potter and Weasley?”

“Yes. They are more like family though, not friends.” She said.

“Don’t you get tired of having only male friends?”

“I have a female friend. A very good one. Her name is Isabelle and she’s also a Healer. Oh, I was meaning to ask you, would it be alright if I could have friends here?” she asked.

“Why are you asking my permission?” he asked.

“Because this is your house.”

“As long as your friends don’t turn me in to the Ministry, you’re welcome to invite whomever you want.”

“Thank you.” She said and noticed a slight awkward pause fill the room.

Draco broke the silence. “What do you know about the people we went to school with?” he asked.

“I don’t think I understand your question.” She said.

“Well, I obviously don’t keep in contact with anybody, so what is everybody up to these days? They must have much more interesting lives than staying at home with their mentally instable mothers.” He said with a quiet sadness.

Hermione had the urge to reach over and just hug him. He looked like he hadn’t been properly hugged in a long, long time. She immediately ceased those thoughts, wondering what on earth had come over her. She paused before answering.

“Well, I don’t really know much, I’m not really into all the gossip and I work a lot, so I don’t really keep up. Um, I know that Lavender and Seamus are seeing each other, Isabelle swears that Lavender looks pregnant, but Harry swears that she just let herself go a bit.” She said and paused when Draco chuckled. A nice, deep-voiced chuckle that made her smile.

“I didn’t think Potter would be much of a gossip.” He said.

“Oh yeah, he’s awful, I get all of my information from him and Isabelle. They’re actually a couple now and I couldn’t be happier for them.” She said and continued on with what she knew. “The last time I checked, Neville was the Herbology apprentice at Hogwarts and I don’t know if he’s seeing anyone or not. Ginny Weasley moved to America with some Texas oil guy and I haven’t really heard from her in while. Pansy Parkinson got divorced for the third time and now she has all of this money from her exes. Um, Parvati and Padma Patil opened a fashion store in Diagon Alley; well ok it’s not a fashion store, more like a lingerie boutique.” Hermione said with a slight pink on her cheeks.

Draco just nodded along as she spoke.

“Let’s see, uh, Ron got engaged earlier this month.”

“Really? Weasley got engaged to someone other than you?” Draco asked with a surprised look.

“We only dated for a week before we realized how weird it was.” Hermione said. “Her name is Ellie and she is so much like him. They have very similar personalities and they fit faultlessly together, I mean that’s what makes them so perfect.”

“Because they are so similar, they are perfect for each other?” he asked.

“Yes. I read a case study once that claimed that people are attracted to people who share similar beliefs, act in similar ways and think the same way. So in actuality, that study proved one of those sayings wrong; the saying that opposites attract. According to their research, opposites don’t actually attract, but similarities do.”

“So you must be pretty bummed about that saying being false.” He said with a serious look.

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

He got up from the couch and headed towards the door. She watched him open the door that led to his living room and turn back to her, “Because now you and I don’t have a chance.” He said with a sly smile and left the room, leaving her dumbstruck and blinking like an idiot.


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