Questions of Science

Disclaimer: None of this thing you call ownership exists here.

A/N: My…reviewers…ROCK! Every single last one of you. I really have to start finding an appropriate gift for all of you. The title for this chapter comes from the song “Look after You” by the Fray, and for the last chapter, the title came from the song “If I Never See Your Face Again” by Maroon 5.


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Chapter 5: Always Have and Never Hold

‘He has to be joking.’ Hermione thought to herself as Draco had just shut the door to his office and left. ‘That’s what it was, just a joke. I guess I can see the humor in it, but what if he wasn’t joking? Ok, so if he was joking, then it’s no big deal. But if he wasn’t joking, does that mean what I think it means? Does he think that I would be disappointed because we don’t have a chance? That is so stupid, he doesn’t even know me. But why did….”

Her thoughts were cut off as the door reopened and Draco walked in, casual and sophisticated, as usual, and sat down in the chair behind his desk, facing her on the couch.

“I know what you’re doing.” He said as he looked at her confused features.

“What am I doing?” she asked, hoping he missed the slight squeak in her voice.

“You’re analyzing the hell out of what I just told you.”

“What? No I’m not.” She said with an air of defense.

“Yes you are. Let me help you out.” He said as he leaned forward on his desk, crossing his arms on the surface.

She looked at him, waiting for him to continue. He had a look of triumph on his face and his smile had changed to a half smirk.

“I knew the minute I left that you were going to have this inner conflict about the meaning of my words. Here’s the real meaning: I said what I said so that you could just take it as it is. Take it as the joke I meant it to be. I think you have been trained so well as a neuropsychiatrist that you don’t take things superficially anymore. Everything has to have a meaning, but some things don’t. They are just words and sometimes they are meant to be exactly what they are.”

‘Wait, who is the therapist here; me or him?’ Hermione thought as she watched Draco unbend a paperclip. “Um, I knew you were joking.” She finally said.

“Good, because I was.” He said. “I think you have lovely lips.”

“What?” She asked, taken aback. She was about to think of what he had just said when he spoke again.

“Don’t think about it. Just take it as a compliment. Don’t stress and try to figure out the deep meaning as to why I would say you have lovely lips, because it’s a compliment, from me to you. A compliment showing you that I think you have nice lips, what with the lower lip a bit fuller than the top, giving you a look as if you’re pouting.”

“You’re testing me, aren’t you?” She said with a suspicious look. “You know that I analyze most of the things that people tell me, and you’re just yanking my chain. What are you going to gain from making me look like an idiot?” she asked with a huff.

“I’m not trying to make you look like an idiot. I thought that maybe you should learn how to use that right side of the brain you’ve neglected. Just take things at face-value. Plus, I really do think you have nice lips.” He said with a thoughtful look.

She studied him carefully. He seemed to be telling the truth. “Does it bother you so much that I use the left side of my brain? Are you trying to convert me to using the right side so that we can be similar, and therefore, you can have that chance with me? You know, similarities attract.” Hermione said with a triumphant smirk, one that could have wiped the floor with Draco Malfoy’s stupid smirk.

Draco didn’t reply. He did smile, though, and he did laugh.

“I’m not trying to change you Granger. People like you because of the way you think, and I don’t believe it’s my place to mess with that. I just wanted to see if my predictions were true.”

“Were they?”

“Yes, but that’s no reason to get upset. It’s just who you are.” He said as he bent the paperclip back into its original shape.

“Well this has been a productive session.” Hermione said.

“Session? I thought you were just asking me questions about my mother.”

“That wasn’t a session, this was. Your little mind games. You really are too smart for your own good. You probably could have made Head Boy if you had been there for your seventh year.” She said.

“McGonagall allowed me to facilitate courses by correspondence. She would send me the assignments for all the classes; I would do them and then send them back.”

“Well at least you got to finish your schooling.”

Draco nodded. Before any awkward silence could fill the room, one of the house-elves apparated into Draco’s office.

“Master Draco, Mistress Narcissa wishes to see you and the Healer.” The house-elf announced before apparating back to wherever he had come from.

Hermione followed Draco as he led her out to Narcissa’s wing. Narcissa was sitting by the window in a beautiful green silk robe, looking as exquisite as ever. She smiled at Draco when he came and stood next to her, kissing her softly on the cheek.

“How did you sleep, mother?”

“Fine, thank you. I’m very hungry though. I would like something to eat.” She said as she took her son’s hand in hers and stood up.

“We can have dinner a bit early if you’d like.” He said as he walked with her to the door, Hermione following closely behind.

“Yes, I would like that. Can Hermione eat with us as well?”

“If she wants to, she is welcome to join us.”

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The three of them sat down to a nice dinner. Exchanging small talk, complimenting the food, and just conversing about regular day-to-day things. Hermione tried to keep her mind off of the conversation she had had with Malfoy, but every time he smiled at something or looked at her while she spoke, her mind would take a freight train back to those thoughts.

She wanted to find some meaning to his words, but when he had called her out like that, it was as if her brain had stopped doing the usual. He was right. She did scrutinize every little thing around her, but he mentioned that it’s what made people like her to begin with.

He had told her before they began, that this was a professional situation, business-like. So why was he doing all of these things? It was almost as if they were friends; exchanging silly, teasing banter with each other as if they had known each other for years. Well, they did know each other for years, just not on the best terms.

Draco did apologize though. He wanted to start fresh, maybe give a chance to a possible friendship. This was the real Draco that she was experiencing, not the little snot from school, but this uninhibited man who had been through things that Hermione could probably never understand, no matter how much she analyzed.

But was it really a friendship he was after? He did say that he wanted a professional relationship, so maybe that’s all it was. He was her employer and she, his employee. He didn’t have to speak to her outside of the business with his mother.

Hermione looked up from her thoughts and saw Draco watching her with a knowing smile. He knew what she was thinking about. It was easy to guess since she had poked at the same carrot fifty times and kept pursing her lips together and moving them left and right.

He thought to himself, wondering why he kept looking at her lips. Back at school, when someone spoke to him he would watch how their lips moved, because he never felt comfortable staring people in the eyes until after the war. Her lips stuck out to him though, as he had noticed before, she did have a sort of pouty look to her and when she was deep in thinking they would move from left to right, right to left.

In his mind, he knew he was headed for trouble. Watching a girl’s lips like that could never lead to anything safe. It had been so long since he had spoken to a girl, besides his mother of course, and he wondered if the lack of females in his life was the reason for his little staring problem. He didn’t find anything wrong with Granger; in fact, she was actually attractive. But she wasn’t breathtakingly beautiful, she was pretty though, and sometimes pretty was better than elaborated beauty.

She was smart. No, scratch that. She was exceedingly intelligent and that made her a much more interesting person than a run of the mill gorgeous female. She also had a deep compassion for what she did. She had confessed that it had taken her seven months to stop crying every night, just from sympathy for others. She didn’t know them, yet she still felt their pain and their hurt.

Draco wondered if she sensed his own pain: the memories he had tried to rid himself of, the things that he had seen Death Eaters do, the things he had seen Death Eaters do to his own mother. He wasn’t ready to share those things with Hermione. She was a professional and she was there to help, but the memories he had were too gruesome and too close to his heart. If he shared them, he would be opening his heart to her and he did not want to do that.

His thoughts were broken when his mother asked him a question.

“Draco, dear, can you read that story to me after our pudding. We have yet to finish it and I’m curious as to how it ends.”

“Yes, that would be fine. Healer Granger, would you like to join us?”

Hermione looked up at the sound of her name. “Um, join you for what?”

“Usually after dinner, I read to my mother from one of the books in our library. We usually talk about the story together and I think it would help you get to know her a bit better.” He said with a touch of a hint in his voice.

“Oh yes, of course. That would be lovely.” She said and took a sip from her water.

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Hermione sat in one of the overstuffed armchairs in the Malfoy library. Narcissa sat next to her in a similar armchair as Draco looked for the book.

“So Narcissa, what types of stories do you like to listen to?” Hermione asked, her quill secretly dictating the conversation.

“I love all types of stories. Romance, mystery, non-fiction, historical, anything that Draco wishes to read, I’ll listen to it.” She said. “His voice is so nice to listen to and it makes me feel content.”

Hermione inwardly agreed. Draco did have a soothing voice. Deep, soft, and he always knew the right words to use. She especially liked the way licked his lips before he spoke. Wait, now she was thinking of his lips?

‘Ok, Hermione, now you need to forget about all that. You are here to help Narcissa. She needs your care and you’re sitting here dissecting everything her son says and admiring the way he licks those supple, pink li---stop it! What on earth has gotten into you woman? You will stop thinking those stupid thoughts…now. Ok, now. Really I mean it this time, riiiiiiiight now. Ok good. I wonder if Narcissa knows how beautiful she is. Her bone structure is near perfect, and her eyes are bright blue. Lucky woman; and her lips are supple and pink, like Dra---DAMNIT! Stop it Hermione. I’m not even joking anymore. You are hereby banished from thinking. Empty your brain and just listen to whatever damned story he is going to tell. Merlin, would he hurry up already!’

“Ok, I found it.” Draco finally said, pulling a book down from the shelf.

“Which book is it?” Hermione asked.

“The Iliad.” He said.

“Really? But that’s muggle literature. How did your father have it in his own library?”

“Know thy enemy.” Draco said simply and sat down on the couch, opening the book to where it was marked.

Hermione listened as Draco read the story of the Trojan War and how it was started by love, adultery, pride and honor. She listened as he told of Paris’ love for Helen Queen of Sparta, of Achilles’ love for Briseis, and Hector’s love for Andromache and his son. They all fought for their loved ones. They all defended their countries for their loved ones.

“That is such a sad story.” Narcissa said when Draco had finished reading. “Did they have to fight so much?”

Draco smiled at his mother. “It is a war story, mum. They’d have to fight a little to fit the theme.”

“Well they shouldn’t have started a whole epic battle just because a woman had an affair. Her husband just should have turned a blind eye and pretended it didn’t happen.”

“But Narcissa, if someone commits adultery it shouldn’t just be ignored.” Hermione said.

“I ignored it and my life just went on as normal. I didn’t go and start a war every time Lucy-, I mean Lucius went and had an affair.” Narcissa said.

Hermione looked at Draco who had a pained expression on his face. “Narcissa, how many times did Lucius cheat on you?”

“Oh I don’t know, every weekend perhaps since our second year of marriage.”

“When did you find out?” Hermione asked.

“Well once I saw him in his office with some black-haired woman and then he started telling me that I wasn’t as good as his mistresses. I would also see them out when I would go to Diagon Alley.”

“Oh Narcissa, you shouldn’t have had to put up with that. Lucius didn’t know how lucky he was to have you. You deserved so much better than him cheating on you. All those women put together couldn’t even measure up to how wonderful you are.” Hermione assured her.

“Thank you Hermione. That is very kind of you to say.” Narcissa replied. “I am getting tired, though. I think I’d like to go to bed.” She saw her son about to get up and take her to bed. “No, Draco dear, I’ll get one of the house-elves to escort me. Goodnight.”

She left her son and Hermione sitting in the library.

“That was helpful.” Hermione said as she read over the notes her quill took.

“Finding out that my father was the world’s largest prat? I could have told you that.” Draco said as he stretched out on the couch.

“I mean, really, the nerve of him to treat her like absolute trash!” Hermione said, a bit angrily. “I’m sorry, but I have absolutely no tolerance for cheaters. They have no idea how much emotional damage they cause.”

“Cheating on her was probably the tamest thing he did to her.” Draco said.

“Did you know he cheated on her?” Hermione asked.

“When I was younger, I didn’t understand it, I just thought the random women worked with him. When I was finally old enough, I realized what was going on and just like her, I ignored it.”

Hermione sighed and leaned back on the chair. She had had an emotionally tiring day.

“What was your childhood like?” Draco’s question surprised her and made her look over at him as he lay on the couch.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well I just thought since my childhood was such a disaster, that it would be nice to hear what a normal childhood was like.”

“I don’t know about normal, but it wasn’t as exciting as yours.” She said with a small smile. “My parents are both dentists, muggle teeth Healers, and we lived out in Essex in a calm suburban neighborhood. I went to a public primary school until I received my Hogwarts letter. Before I went to Hogwarts though, I mostly stayed at home and read. I had a few friends from school, but none that I was very close with. My parents tried to get me to play the flute, but my musical talent was complete shit, so I just stuck to reading.”

Draco smiled at her account of her childhood. “Yes, you’re right; it wasn’t as exciting as mine.”

She just rolled her eyes. “What time is it?” she asked.

“Almost eleven.” He said, looking at the clock on the wall.

“Oh.” She said.

“Why?”

“I wanted to floo my friend Isabelle, but I’m pretty sure she’s on-call tonight, so I won’t be able to reach her.”

Draco yawned and closed his eyes. “I don’t know how you do it, staying up all the time.”

“Well you get used to after a while. A lot of coffee, a lot of tea, and much, much sugar.” She said.

“Hmm.” He replied sleepily.

“You could have just thrown me out if you wanted to sleep.” Hermione said jokingly.

“No, I like talking to you.” He said with his eyes still closed.

“Never thought I’d hear those words come out of your mouth, Malfoy.”

“Do you believe in fate, Granger?” Draco asked her, throwing her off guard.

“Fate? I don’t know, I haven’t really thought of it. Why?”

“Why is it that I was born into this family and lived a life like mine, while you lived a completely different and content life? I mean, we both started out the same: innocent babes that cried when we wanted attention, cried when we were hungry, and laughed when we were tickled. Why then, did my life go in this direction and yours in a completely different one?”

“You make a good point. I guess I do believe in fate, because no one deserves to live like you did, and no one chooses to live like that.”

“I believe in fate. But then I believe that we are allowed to make our own choices that will eventually lead to our destinies. I’ve read so many books where men tried to figure this out. Descartes, Sophocles, Hobbes. Fate’s funny in a way. I’ve figured out mine.”

“You have? What do you think your fate is?” Hermione asked.

Draco opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. “I was born into this world to make a mistake and then be punished for it.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“I became a Death Eater. Morally, that was a mistake, so my punishment was to watch as my mother slowly lost her mind and I will have to watch as she leaves this earth because of my mistake.”

“You shouldn’t think that. It’s not your fault what happened to your mother. She made choices, just like you did, and there were things that she couldn’t prevent.”

“No she didn’t make choices. She was forced into a marriage with my father when she was seventeen. She was forced to have an heir by the end of their first year of marriage. She was forced to take the physical, mental and sexual abuse that was inflicted on her by not only my father, but most of the Death Eaters. She was forced to accept the fact that her only son was lured into this same group. This group that had completely stolen her life. The day I joined the Death Eaters was the day she began making up words and using sentences that didn’t make sense.”

Draco had now sat up on the couch and his eyes portrayed the anger, sorrow and grief flooding his soul. Hermione tried to keep her emotions in check as he stared into her eyes, showing her the pain he held.

“If I hadn’t joined, she would have stayed sane. I was the last connection she had with reality and the minute she knew I had turned into one of the same people that had broken her, she snapped. It was not her decisions that led her to this fate, but mine. It is my fault she is like this, my fault that I was stupid enough to fear them and fear their empty threats.”

“Empty threats?”

“Yes. They threatened to kill me. My father threatened to kill my mother unless I joined. There was a part of my mind that said they were bluffing, but like I said, I was stupid so I took the mark and doomed my mother to her schizophrenic fate.”

“You joined to protect your family. You joined because your father had broken you down to feel completely inferior and you joined because you were scared. Fear is what helps us make our decisions, Malfoy. Fear of the unknown and the fear of losing the things we hold dear prompt us to make whatever decision we feel will keep those fears away.”

Draco just lay back on the bed and placed the back of arm on his forehead.

“Don’t blame yourself for her condition. It was the abuse that led her there. Joining the Death Eaters was inevitable for you and she knew that. If you feel guilty over this, then you will lose sanity in the same way that she did. You are emotionally abusing yourself by carrying the burden of guilt for what happened to her. Your fate is not to be punished for what you chose. Your fate was realizing that you had made a mistake and then helping the light side conquer evil.”

“I didn’t stop them.” He said with a sigh.

“You didn’t stop whom?” Hermione asked.

“I saw them abuse her. I was in the inner circle with my father, but they gave me the choice to not participate. They did make me watch though. I wasn’t allowed to look away or close my eyes. I’m surprised I kept my sanity this long.” He said, his voice a bit uneven.

“What did they do to her?” Hermione asked.

Draco shook his head. “I don’t want to say. By saying it out loud, I’ll realize how fucked up it was that I didn’t put a stop to it. It will make the guilt burn stronger.”

“You couldn’t have stopped it. This is Voldemort we’re talking about. You would have gotten yourself and your mother killed had you tried to resist.”

“Yeah, well. I wish we had died; we wouldn’t have had to live like this.” Draco said sadly, making Hermione close her eyes in sympathy.

“I’m sorry Malfoy.” Hermione said.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, looking at her.

“I’m sorry that fate chose you to live through that.” She said.

He smiled at her. “Well, whatever doesn’t kill you…”

Hermione sat there for a while, watching as his chest rose and fell as he lay on the couch. He was dressed in a normal muggle clothes. She hadn’t seen him wear any robes or cloaks, but then again, he didn’t really go anywhere. Even though he was at home, he still dressed nicely: polo shirts, button-up shirts, pressed slacks. Right now he was wearing a white polo shirt and black slacks.

‘Belle would love his fashion sense.’ Hermione thought to herself as she sat there. She did find it odd that she was sitting there watching him fall asleep, yet he looked so peaceful, so innocent. She decided she had better go to her own wing and try to sleep so she got up from her chair and found a quilt lying on another couch. She picked up the quilt and brought it over to where Malfoy was sleeping and placed it over his sleeping form. Then she did something that was quite out of the ordinary; she stroked his silken hair out of his closed eyes and then placed her hand on his pale cheek. When she realized what she was doing she pulled her hand back, turned out the lights and quietly left the room.

The minute the door closed, Draco’s eyes shot open and his hand came up to touch the cheek that had just been caressed by the pretty Healer.