Witch? Wizard?

Witch? Wizard?
Chapter V

When
Hermione left Draco Malfoy standing, dumbfounded, in the hallway of the
Ministry of Magic, she stopped by her office briefly to return some
case files and inform her supervisor that an emergency had arisen and
she would be out for a few days. She wanted to return to Blaise as soon
as possible, but, Draco\'s assessment of her treatment of Blaise left
her doubting herself. So, instead of Apparating, Hermione elected to
travel by Muggle means and walked to the nearest Underground station.


As
she rode the train, Hermione\'s mind kept wandering back to her first
few years spent at Hogwarts. She\'d been ridiculed by most of her
classmates, even by Harry and Ron, whom she had come to love as dearly
as any family member. After all, it was customary for youth to be hasty
in forming judgment. But, yet and still, Hermione had left school with
many friends. And as she considered those that she had befriended
during her youth, many of whom she actively sought their friendship,
she couldn\'t help but wonder. \'Did I do the same thing?\'


Blaise
Zabini had been quiet and studious throughout his years at Hogwarts.
Hermione could not even bring up any concrete recollection of him, much
less a negative one, prior to their sharing a suite during seventh
year. As she tried to recall the timid boy that she had spent seven
years in the same castle with, the only association prior to seventh
year she could make with the wizard was the silver and green tie that
would hang loose round his neck with the knot slightly askew. She
doubted she would have remembered that much had she not shared a suite
with Lavendar and Pavarti for so many years, whom often included the
dark wizard\'s roguish appearance in their commentary on the most
eligible, or should she say shaggable, wizards.


Loathed to
admit it, Hermione realized that Draco had been correct. In six years,
Hermione had not had a single encounter to justify her dislike for the
wizard. The entire summer before her final year at Hogwarts, she had
spent in dread, imagining the horrors that would come from sharing her
quarters with the Slytherin. And while they were far from friends that
final year, Hermione couldn\'t help but wonder, \'If I had made the effort to get to know him, could things have been different?\'


The
remainder of the ride, Hermione did her best to put to rest the
thoughts of the past, focusing, rather, on Blaise\'s current condition.
She had little doubt that despite the tragic events, he would not
appreciate the words that she\'d exchanged with Draco at the Ministry. \'Too bad,\' she thought. \'Regardless of my mistakes of the past, I won\'t stand by and watch someone continue to suffer; voluntarily or otherwise.\'


When
Hermione returned to St. Mungo\'s, Blaise was staring absently out of
the window of his room. She was glad that she\'d thought to stop at a
newsstand before returning to the hospital, from Blaise\'s distant
nature she was confidant that speaking to her was the furthest thing
from his mind.


\"I brought you this. It\'s a book of muggle
word puzzles. I thought that it might pass the time,\" she offered
meekly, passing him a book filled with crossword puzzles and word finds.


Blaise
ignored her, continuing to stare out of the window when she placed the
book on the side of his bed before taking a seat in the chair left at
the bedside for visitors.


They sat there in an uncomfortable
silence for nearly a week. Everyday before Hermione left to return to
her flat, she would ask, \"Would you like for me to bring you anything
tomorrow.\" She would stand and wait for nearly five minutes before she
would give up waiting for a response and leave.


She wasn\'t
sure what she should do, only that she couldn\'t bear the thought of
abandoning him to his emptiness in St. Mungo\'s. If he had been driven
to such desperation to impersonate her, and seek another to impersonate
Draco to fulfill his delusions of love, she had little doubt that left
to his own devices, he might find himself with a permanent room
assignment in the medical facility.


Closing her book as the
clock chimed five p.m., Hermione rose from her seat. \"Blaise, I have to
leave early tonight. I have neglected some things at home and need to
go take care of them. Is there anything you would like for me to bring
tomorrow.\"


Swinging her satchel over a shoulder in preparation to leave, Hermione thought, \'He hasn\'t spoken in a week. It\'s foolish to stand around listening to silence.\' To her surprise, however, that day, Blaise was to respond to her query.


\"You can stop, Granger. I don\'t need your pity. You\'ve no need to continue wasting your time.\"


Hermione
turned, her mouth held agape. \"P-p... Blaise, I\'m not here out of pity.
I\'m here because I\'m concerned about you and want to see you well.\"


Blaise
gave a hoarse laugh, one full of doubt and contempt. \"Who put you up to
this? Draco, I\'m sure. He couldn\'t bear the thought of being in the
presence of someone so weak, that he sent you, his little mudblood to play babysitter?\"


Hermione
was taken aback by the contempt held in his words. It was the voice of
pure hatred, extended even beyond that which he\'d exhibited when he
first came across Hermione and Draco in The Hogs Head so many months
ago.


\"Blaise,\" Hermione said quietly, shedding her satchel
and cloak to the chair she\'d abandoned before taking a seat on the side
of his bed. She was disturbed at the way the wizard recoiled from her
touch, but still, she extended her hand, to wipe his dark curls from
his forehead. \"No one put me up to this. I am here because I care and I
realize that I have misjudged you for many years. Draco and I have not
spoken since you were brought to St. Mungo\'s, since... since, I told
him to stay away.\"


If Hermione thought that she had
experienced Blaise\'s wrath before, she was sadly mistaken. The Onyx
depths of his eyes, which had appeared stormy and troubled over the
past week, suddenly seemed ablaze with a dark blue flame of rage. \"You
told him what?\" Blaise asked, in a voice that would have been described
as a roar, were it not for the grit of his teeth that tempered the
volume. \"How dare you, you insufferable, meddlesome, clueless, little
witch. You love to flit about in our world with your holier than thou
ideals and morals. Deeming what is right with the world versus when we
need Hermione Granger to save us from ourselves. Do you have an
inkling of how self-righteous you are?\" He questioned her, his voice
flat, devoid of inclination at the last question.


Hermione
sat there, silenced, her hands wrenching in her lap, having long since
been slapped from his person. \"I know...\" she stated quietly. \"I mean,
I know I was,\" she amended, lifting her eyes slowly, tears threatening
to spill forth as she met his accusing glare. \"Draco gave me quite a
bit of food for thought, when I told him that he was not what you
needed. Said things in much the same spirit actually, and I realized
that he, that you both, are right.


\"Blaise, I\'ve judged you
for many years. For your house, for your choice I mates, for everything
but the person you are. I\'ve made the same judgments on traditions in
the wizarding world, old professors, and more things than I care to
admit. Whether you believe it or not, I do know that I am neither
omnipotent nor infallible.\"


Blaise looked at her, his eyes
cold. \"So what is this then, Hermione? Are you here on some crusade to
right the wrongs of your past? I do not wish to be your salvation, nor
do I wish for you to toy with my life in a quest for some sort of
penance. You had no right,\" he finished simply, his eyes lowering,
raven locks falling to cover his eyes as his breath hitched.


\"You
might be right, Blaise. I probably have no right to meddle in your
life. But, I do know that what you feel for Draco, is not healthy. To
love, is a beautiful thing. But, your emotions, they are far more
complex and dangerous than love. Love should not drive you to put
yourself at risk, to let yourself die, and that\'s what you\'ve been
doing. For the past few months, without consideration for what brought
you to St. Mungo\'s, you\'ve been killing yourself. You need time and
space to see your own worth, away from Draco.\"


Blaise had no
response to Hermione\'s diatribe, instead he simply turned over in his
bed, pulling the pillow over his head, ignoring the fact that she had
again taken her seat at his bedside, her neglected chores forgotten, to
sit.


Blaise was released shortly thereafter, and
surprisingly, showed no signs of protests, when Hermione took to
visiting him at his flat instead of the hospital. Gradually, they began
to communicate. Discussing mundane events reported in the Daily
Prophet, Hermione would bring news of the Quidditch matches, re-told as
she\'d heard from Ron. She\'d even taken to relaying news of Blaise\'s
progress to Draco. She\'d tried to deny the blond wizards concern for
his friend, but after so many months, there was no denying truth. Where
love might not reside, there was certainly a deep bond of friendship
that she had either ignored or misread.