RAGE

Sleep didn’t come easily to anyone that night. Hermione tossed and turned and dreamt of being chased the entire night. No one else seemed to fare any better. Hermione woke up early because of a bad dream and found that she couldn’t go back to sleep, even if she wanted to. She looked around her, everyone was still asleep. Except Draco; he wasn’t in his bunk, nor in the bathroom. Hermione looked at her watch; 5:30 am.

She decided to head to the kitchen. She wrapped her blanket around her and grabbed her wand, holding it close. She was going to be constantly on guard. She couldn’t afford not to be; even if her spells weren’t working properly against some of the infected.

The halls were cold and she kept close to the wall. She could hear some shifting around in the rooms but didn’t see anyone. She looked into the kitchen before she entered. There were tables everywhere but only two were occupied. One sat three Aurors and another sat Draco. He was sitting alone next to the coffee bench.

Hermione made her way over to him. He didn’t look up.

"Tea?" Hermione asked.

She reached over the bench and grabbed the sugar and tea bags. She didn't think she was going to get a reply because he had been silent for so long. Then his voice, quiet and scratchy, pronounced a single word.

"Please."

She poured the water into two mugs and dunked the tea bags in. She placed one in front of him and grabbed two spoons for the sugar and the jug of milk. She sat down, sighed and laid her head on the table.

"Thank you." Draco said firmly.

Hermione lifted her head to look at him, slightly shocked.

"You're welcome." She said laying her head on her arms.

"Not just for the tea." He said.

"Then what for?" She asked, her voice muffled by her arms.

"Saving my life last year." He said quietly.

She looked at him.

"You're welcome." She said again.

He sat in silence for a while.

"That's all you're going to say?" He asked.

She looked back at him and nodded.

"I would have thought you would pounce on the chance to get back at me." He said, his old attitude returning a little.

She shook her head.

"We've all been through so much shit, I think it's time we got over the whole Mudblood/Pureblood thing Draco. The way that the virus is going, humanity will be lucky to pull through." She said quietly. “We all had our reasons for which paths we chose.”

He looked taken aback by the use of his given name and her reasoning.

"I know, it's just that..." He sipped his tea. "Never mind."

"What?" She asked propping her head on one arm. "You thought I would want to use you as a punching bag?"

He nodded. "More or less."

She would have smiled a week ago.

"No. You'd be in St Mungo's already if that was the case."

Draco gave an attempt at a smile.

"I'm sorry, Granger." Draco said. "For everything I ever said about you; to your face and behind your back. It was wrong of me and I'm sorry."

Hermione was truly shocked. She hadn't expected him to apologise willingly, especially now. She had been living with him in Headquarters along with most of the Order and their families for a month now and he had barely said two words to her.

"Oh…" Hermione said before she could stop herself.

Draco nodded at her reaction.

"I was a right ass at best of times and I'm sorry."

She looked away, unable to hold his heavy gaze.

"Thank you." She said. "I'm sorry that Ron and Harry provoked you all the time. I know I wasn‘t exactly everyone‘s cup of tea. I was pretty much a pain in the ass when it came to school."

"Don't be sorry for yourself or for them. You were being yourself and wanted to succeed at what you were passionate about. And if Potter and Weasley if they want to apologize, let them do it." He said. "Does this mean you accept my apology?"

She nodded.

“Thank you.” He said, looking away from her.

"Twelve months ago, I might not have.” Hermione said quietly. “I was so angry at you. But, now I believe that life is too short to hold grudges. I have learned that there are reasons for everything; petty or not. I know the pressure you were under and you proved your loyalty the night that Dumbledore was killed. You might not have joined us right away, but you abandoned Voldemort and the Death Eaters and went to protect your family, as they finally did you."

"My parents did the best they could." He said, his voice low. "They've always protected me."

Hermione frowned.

"Yes well, at least you still have your family…" Hermione said.

Draco opened his mouth then closed it, unsure of what to say.

"Let's not fight, I'm so tired of fighting.” She said. “We all need to support each other now. I know that I need my friends around me. I’m desperate not to be alone…"

Draco looked down sadly.

"Yeah..."

They sat in silence for a while. Soon it began to rain and the sound on the windows was soothing.

"What happened to them?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Who?"

"Your family after the war…"

Draco was silent. Hermione turned and saw a look of grief on his face.

"Sorry. You don't have to answer that." Hermione said.

There was silence once again and just as Hermione was thinking about leaving with her tea and going back to bed, Draco spoke.

"My father was killed." He said, his voice unlike she had ever heard it. It was low and childlike; vulnerable. "He was captured and Crucio'd to death by some Death Eaters. Which ones, I don't know. My mother went into hiding until this bloody virus spread. She was the one who finally convinced me to go to the Order."

"I'm sorry." Hermione said, her eyes filled with concern.

"Why?" He asked. "My father was a bastard twenty-four-seven. Most of the time to you and the rest of your kind."

"The rest of my kind?" Hermione repeated, offended.

He closed his eyes.

"That's not what I meant. I only meant the Muggleborns." He said.

"That's real nice, Draco." Hermione said finishing her tea.

"Sorry. It's just things you've been taught as second nature your whole life, are quite hard to change. And I'm trying. Believe me, I'm trying."

Hermione just nodded.

"I said that I was sorry because no one should have to feel the pain of losing a parent, whether they were a good one or not." She said, standing and putting her mug in the sink.

"No. They shouldn't." He agreed. “I’m really sorry about your parents, Granger.”

She looked at him. He was looking at her intently; she could see his pity, his sorrow, his despair, and also his confidence. Confidence of what she didn’t know. Maybe he thought that they would pull through some how and the world would return to the way it used to be.

No, it would never be the way it used to be…