Shattered Glass

Chapter Four: Deeper Understanding
(Author's note I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.)

Lucius rocked in the corner if his cell slightly, muttering softly to himself about escaping and revenge. The dementors particularly enjoyed him when he arrived here two and a half weeks ago, his gloating pride drew them all near, which drained him, emotionally and physically. He had lost a lot of weight and most of his sanity. It seemed the dementors had a new game, if it could be called one, leaving him alone for a few days and letting him get his strength and hopes up, and then they would swoop in their dead looking hands out stretched, toward him through the bars. Today was no such day, they feasted on someone else, today they hovered ominously next to his cell breathing in his essence, draining all warmth from the air.

Of course the dark lord believed Bellatrix, she was one of his most trusted advisers, he knew his fate the moment his wife had uttered her sisters name. As he rocked he rubbed his arms up and down and occasionally blew into his cupped hands, wrapped in the only blanket that he had,f he tried in vain to create some kind of warmth. Lucius only had one thing that had kept him going and lucid for so long, other than the the thought of escaping. He simply had to get revenge on his dear son. Faking his death and running away, it was outrageous. He would pay for making Lucius's life the way it was, hell. He would get revenge soon, he would escape, two dememtors got closer to him breathing eerily. He wouldn't escape ever. This tomb, this prison, is where he would die. Perhaps, the dementors swished silently toward another cell, he could escape. The question was, how?

***

Ginny wandered through the woods wondering where her brother and Harry could be. She had been tracking them, finding their campfires. There weren't many people who camped in the woods in the middle of no where. On top of that there was never any trail leading to the campfires. They went on a cycle, between five different sets of forests, only the location in the woods and which one they would be at next were random, this made it hard. Ginny had just barely learned to apperate, and a few time she had Splinched, though it was never anything to big, once she had to reattach a finger, but that was the biggest thing she had lost, mostly they were deep cuts along her arms and legs. She was getting better. Ginny was surprised of two things, first, that she could actually apperate her entire body, and second that she was not being traced, though that was the advantage to being a few months older than the rest of her class. Since she was seventeen the trace was gone. Today she had to find them.

Already she had run from death eaters twice, and escaped narrowly both times; but strangely enough her face had not yet turned up in the papers. In the locations she chose to search today she was sure that there were no lurking death eaters, they were cocky and felt no need to hide themselves when they were seeking out Harry Potter. Today she decided to try and find them the old fashioned way, by calling out for them and waiting to see if any of them answered or if a tent that she knew Ron had stolen would appear. “Ron!” she would call over and over again, not saying Harry's name for fear of someone realizing that she was looking for him. There were many more people named Ronald as apposed to Harry. After about an hour she was going to give up due to the fact that her throat was dry and her voice was hoarse, when out in the distance appeared a fire that was not there before. Cautiously she walked toward the fire, rubbing her hands together. It was getting dark and therefore was getting cold.

She was less than ten feet from the fire when she saw somebody step out a tent that was to the left of the fire. Ducking behind a large oak, she peered around the side, it was her brother with his hand raised above his eyes looking out. “Ginny?” he asked in almost a silent whisper. Slowly she stepped out from behind the tree, pointing her wand at him. Ron raised his hands up in surprise. “Merlin Gin, its me, your brother.” he stated somewhat alarmed. Dropping her wand she rushed over to him wrapping her arms around him. Ron was the only one who called her Gin. Harry walking out of the tent quickly began to put up a barrier to be invisible and unheard. Ginny then after seeing him let go of her brother an urge overtaking her and virtually attacked Harry, throwing her arms around his neck, and forcing her mouth on his. Harry unprepared for this, fell over onto his back, not wanting to stop but also not wanting to get hit on the head by Ron ended it quickly but did not neglect to kiss back.

Ron helped his sister up and then Harry looking uncomfortable and strangely depressed, he could be angry but somehow could not find the energy. “What's wrong Ron?” she asked her brother playfully until she noticed his appearance, then her grin fell, his eyes were sunken in and his face was shaggy, his clothes clearly unkempt.

“Oh, other than seeing my sister snogging my best friend right in front of me? Its Hermione... she's...” his voice broke. It was then that Ginny realized it, she had yet to greet Hermione, and with Ron breaking down like he was it could only mean one thing. She didn't dare think about that possibility.

“What about her?” he voice was very quiet. She looked reluctant to ask.

Harry put his hand on Ginny's shoulder, taking in a deep breath and looking at the ground, blinking away tears. “She's gone...” Part of Ginny broke, Hermione was her best girl friend and now, she was gone?

***

Draco was peeved to say the least lately. He had gone from Hermione's number one hate to practically older brother. Lupin was always out attending secret order of the phoenix meetings, and Tonks was heavily pregnant and couldn't fallow Hermione's mad dash for knowledge, and so that left Draco to watch over the overly excited slash horribly depressed Hermione Granger. Hermione grew depressed when she would remember something upsetting, which she would never tell any one about, and was excited the rest of the time. He even had to let her use his wand to practice the spells, which she always got on the first try, that she remembered.

There was something strange about the way she remembered things, she would remember faces, little things here and there like spells and different things she had read in books, but never any of the 'big picture'; Lupin as Draco overheard thought that part of her was avoiding remembering it, she was lucky really. Lucky that she didn’t have to know all that she once did. When she slept was a different matter, she would call out screaming in pain begging for help, though whenever she woke she wouldn't know why she was screaming just that she had been screaming.

She was much less childish as the weeks progressed, and now she acted almost her age. Draco had a sneaking suspicion that she was beginning to remember things about him, but it was having the opposite effect of what he wanted. Instead of being disgusted at the sight of him she was becoming more attached to him. She always greeted him with a smile, a happy smile, and occasionally she would hug him. This displeased Draco. No matter how rude or mean he was to her (without calling her mudblood, Tonks would have his hide) still she grew more and more enthralled with him. What pestered and ate away at him more is that there was the smallest most minuscule microscopic part of him that was beginning to wonder if it was so bad, if it was okay to like the attention she gave him. To which he responded with stepping stomping and crushing that part of himself telling it 'no', though like a weed, it always grew back.

Draco was sitting at the breakfast table eating a bowl of cereal. He was thinking slightly about how much Lupin and Tonks hated his presence here, how much they watched him was proof of that. Every time however, that either Lupin or his wife tried to send him away Hermione protested stating that he was okay and that he could be trusted. And when asked how she knew, all she would reply with was. “I can tell, his eyes never lie.” they never protested after that. Draco wished somewhat that she would give it up and he could be sent away, but here he was safe, safety was something he felt he needed. About a week ago his face appeared in the daily profit next to his father's the headline reading, “Malfoy and son Killed the Minister.” So his mother had been caught? Was his initial thought, but upon reading the article he found that it stated that his father planned for Draco to kill the minister, then fake his own death so he would not be suspected. Cleaver, but wrong. Draco shoved the paper away and continued to eat at his cereal, more forcibly than necessary.

Hermione awoke to the memory of a voice, she didn't know whom it belonged to, it was disembodied and strange. The only thing it said was her name. She was very frustrated with how she was remembering things, she had huge gaps where she had a feeling two people belonged. This much she was sure she knew, that neither of them were Draco, which was slightly upsetting. She wondered why Remus and Tonks didn't trust Draco, but thought that was a question best left for another time. Over the past three weeks Hermione had been working up the courage to ask Draco why and what he had helped her from. The question had been ebbing away at her slowly awakening mind. She had almost asked it a few times but every time she lost her nerve. Draco was very intimidating, though like a bug drawn to light she couldn't stay away from him.

She arose from her bed, still limping slightly as she walked over to her closet, she was lucky that Tonks was close to her size otherwise she would be wearing flannel Pajamas most of the time. She put on the first hing she saw and then brushed through her tangled mane of hair. Satisfied with her hair slightly deflated she walked out of her room looking both ways as if sneaking out. Today she had to ask him. Slowly she walked down the hall running her finger tips along the slightly textured wall, enjoying the feeling. Hermione approached the doorway into the kitchen, Draco was always up before everyone else, he didn't look like he slept at all sometimes, and she was sure that he didn't. She pushed the door open silently then took two steps into the kitchen and let the door behind her close. Draco didn't even look up at her, he just gave her a nod of acknowledgment.

Hermione took a deep breath. “Draco, I have a question.” she stated her voice small, hands behind her back and eyes focused on the ground. He stopped eating and looked over at her.

“What is it?” his voice slightly hoarse from not using it much at all today.

“Why did you save me?” Hermione did not know the details just that he had helped her out big time, maybe even saved her life.

His face went pale and he swallowed hard. Of course she was going to ask that but did it have to be today? “You needed help, you were in danger.” he said with little emotion running his fingers through his unkempt hair, he was trying hard not to remember that day that had changed him so drastically. Draco even went as far as to call her friend, even though he never said it out loud.

She could see she was making him uncomfortable, but she simply had to ask, to know. “From what?”

“A monster.” he commented slowly, thinking about how terrible his father truly was,flinching slightly as he remembered the “CRACK” of Hermione's bones as his father mercilessly stomped on her frail limbs.

“What kind of monster?” she ventured, her hands began to shake slightly, she knew she had just entered into unknown territory.

“My father.” he nearly spat out. Blinking back tears he looked away and resumed eating his breakfast. Trying to send the message that the conversation was over.

“Will you tell me about it?” She asked timidly.

“No.” he spat. He no longer wished to remember the man he had come from.

She flinched slightly at his tone. “Oh.” she said softly. She wanted desperately to know more but decided it was best left alone, for the moment anyway. And before he knew it she was next to him her arms wrapped around him. “Thank you.” she said into his shoulder, then before he could shrug her off she let go and was looking through the cabinets for something to eat. He nodded again and continued to eat, the last of his breakfast in the bottom of his bowl. Draco was not even really seeing her as a dirty blooded creature, true he didn't not want her to consider him as anything more than Draco Malfoy; however he himself had already began to consider her a friend whether he realized it or not. He very much enjoyed all of her antics and smart comments, and how she knew so much, of course that was because of the books she read.

Hermione searched through the cabinets and refrigerator. There was nothing really that tickled her fancy. It all looked boring or did not appeal to her taste. What to eat? She thought. She looked over at Draco he was finishing off a bowl of some bran cereal. She decided to have a bowl, it was simple and she would have food in her stomach. She grabbed the milk and a bowl and sat across the table from him. She grabbed the daily profit for the first time, and looked at the front page, her body froze. Draco took notice of this and looked over at her, waiting for her reaction to the news head line.

Looking confidently up at Hermione was a man who looked very much like Draco, he even had the same eyes. He was smirking, and the smirk was disgustingly smug. There was a sudden pain in here head. Her hand flew up to her temple rubbing it trying to soothe the pain away. Flashes of red and pain came firing at her, as she remembered this man, Lucius, was his name, standing over her, laughing cruelly as he beat her. Hermione then remembered another figure, a woman half-crazed looking down at her with what could only be described as glee, cast a curse at her that made Hermione feel like she was being lit on fire. There was a mention of a name. “Harry Potter.” then the world went dark.

Draco panicked, she froze when she saw his father's picture, he somewhat expected that, what he didn't expect was for her entire body to go ridged and for her to fall our of her chair in a heap on the floor, her eyes closed shut teeth clenched fists held tight at her sides, writhing like she was in pain but saying nothing. “Granger!” he yelled He was almost afraid to touch her. “Granger! Answer me!” he yelled getting on his knees next to her body. After about two minutes she stopped moving all except for the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Draco placed his hand on her shoulders, worried that he might get blamed for this he gently shook her. “Come on Granger, wake up.” He whispered. She did not move. Unsure of what to do for a moment he thought about running before he could be blamed for what happened to the girl. Though he quickly pushed those thoughts aside, he could, without Lupin or Tonks noticing place her back in her bed, she was breathing fine and appeared to just be sleeping. Quickly without thinking he picked her up in his arms careful to not hold her uncomfortably he walked as quietly as he could toward her bedroom.

After he placed her there he decided to sit outside her door until she woke. As suspicious as this may have looked he had done this before when something similar though not as serious happened about a week ago. It was different all she did was sit down suddenly an fall asleep, falling out of her chair and having a fit had definitely scared Draco today. She was only out for maybe an hour then when she came to she remembered the faces, but nothing about Potter and Weasley. He waited anxiously outside her room. He had been there for almost an hour and still she did not wake, he was beginning to worry. Once again he was hit with conflicted feelings. He did not hate muggle-borns anymore, but just because he didn't hate them didn't mean he did like them. He described it as a strong dislike. Hermione was the one he liked the most, though still, he would not admit it to himself. He actually characterized his like for her as a weakness.

***

Ginny awoke the next morning curled in the fetal position, here eyes still puffy and her throat sore. She took a deep breath. She had spent the majority of the night silently weeping to herself. Hermione was a huge part of all of their lives, it was devastating to have that big of a piece ripped out of your life, your heart. Ron and Harry still unsteady on how to comfort a girl left her alone after about two hours at her request. She knew it was awkward for them to watch her cry, it was also strange for her, growing up with all older brother's she had learned well and early how to be tough. She hugged her knees for a few moments more allowing it all to soak in again, only this time she willed herself not to cry. It took all or her strength to rise from her bed and head into the kitchen. Ginny would take Hermione's place in the group, she would cook clean and be the brains of the outfit. Without Hermione Harry and Ron wouldn't know what to do, and Ginny knew it.

She walked silently into the kitchen and began to look through what they had to eat. It took her a minute, but after a while she decided to make sausage, french toast and bacon. The boys were looking a tad malnourished so she decided they needed a double dose of protein. After about five minutes of getting it all ready she waved her wand, and all three began to cook themselves, giving Ginny a chance to tidy up the tent by hand. After seventeen years of watching her mother cook she knew very well how to do it all. She turned her head at the sound of her brother climbing slowly out of his bed, trying not to make a sound. He looked surprised at what she was doing. “Ginny... you shouldn't... I should... thank you.” He said clearly at a loss for words.

“Your welcome Ron.” She said smiling weakly at him, as tough as she was she still could not entirely fake being happy, especially with such a large blow. “You can't talk me out of staying with you guys either. I know you'll need help finding what ever it is your trying to find. I'm smart, I can help.” she stated her tone clear that there should and would not be any argument. Whether they liked it or not they were stuck with her until You-Know-Who was defeated.

“Wasn't going to say anything.” Ron said yawning slightly. “I know we need someone's help.” His tone became sad and then he went silent looking at the ground, he didn't feel like fighting with Ginny about it, which was very unlike him. He wasn't ready to talk about Hermione yet, and he didn't know whether he ever would be.

“What smells so good?” Harry was the next to wake, he was taking the death of Hermione better, though Ginny could tell not much better, there was still a clear downward sway to his words, and a despairing look to his features. Much like Ginny's own.

“So does anyone mind telling me what we're looking for?”Ginny said trying to defuse Ron's emotions before they got out of hand. The next few hours were spent filling her in on what they were looking for and all the things they knew about Voldemort. Ginny took it all exceptionally well, she had a feeling it was something sinister and evil like that. After breakfast much like Hermione used to, She threw herself into books looking for information of what the next possible horcrux was, and how to actually destroy one. Mentally she hit herself, she had been in castle just a few weeks ago and she knew how to open the chamber, she could have saved them a lot of trouble.

***

Her eyes snapped open, a wave of terror rolling over her body. The blond haired my with the cruel eyes, he was after her, she rolled on to her side and then swung her legs off the side of the bed sitting up, coming to her senses more. The man, Lucius, Draco's father was not after her. Draco had somehow managed to pull her away before her last minutes of life were indeed so. She had no idea why the man had hurt her, or the woman with the crazy eyes, but they had, and they were going to kill her. She had a new appreciation for Draco, more than she previously had. Overcome with emotion she felt a sob rise in her throat and escape her lips, and then the flood gates opened, the sobs did not stop. She was baffled as to why she was crying, and saw no reason for it. Life was confusing.

Draco jumped startled out of his light slumber by the sound of Hermione's uncontrollable sobs. He sighed, standing he had to get her to quit crying soon or else he would once again be blamed for this, as he always was. Running his fingers through his blond hair he stood and walked quietly into her room. She was sitting on the side of her bed her face in her hands, Her body was shaking from the force of her sobs. It was annoying really. First he'd find himself supporting and even liking and wishing to help those who were fighting against Voldemort, and then he'd find himself hating them all over again. He wasn't sure what to think anymore. He was not used to not knowing. Shoving away his thoughts he wondered what a normal person with regular emotions would do in a situation like this. He sighed again when he came to his conclusion. Of course. Without a word her sat on her bed beside her and pulled her into an embrace, placing his chin on top of her head. He winched slightly at the physical connection, he never was much of a people person, nor was he ever a person who liked to be touched. It was all a part of his pure blooded pride. He didn't have that right now. Right now he wanted her to stop crying.

Hermione was surprised at first when Draco sat on her be next to her, but was flabbergasted when without saying anything he pulled her close to him. It felt nice though to be comforted and be able to cry into somebody's chest. Draco was warmer than she remembered. She thought with those eyes of ice that he'd be cold to the touch. She was glad her assumptions were wrong. It felt nice to be cared about. She smiled into his chest despite herself, but continued to sob uncontrollably. She relaxed into his arms and allowed herself to cry.

As weird as it all was, part of Draco understood this need to cry, he had needed to on more than one occasion, but always held back. This one of those such times, valiantly he blinked away tears, not quite sure why he wanted to cry this time. Gently he stroked her soft brown hair, shushing her softly acting purely on instinct. “It's going to be okay.” he whispered over and over. In truth, Draco would barely remember this moment in the future. All that mattered in that rare moment of humanity for Draco was comforting Hermione. For once, he felt good about his actions.