18. Revelations

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.

Draco glanced over at the girl sitting on the bed across from him. She looked fragile and weary, and exactly as though she had just suffered a near-death experience. Yet somehow, she appeared to be taking it a lot better than he was.

They had arrived at the hospital wing only a couple of minutes before. By the time Draco had brought Hermione in, she was barely breathing and her lips had begun turning blue. Madame Pomfrey, although quite alarmed, had managed to calmly ask Draco what had happened. When he informed her that Hermione had taken a sip of a potion she had just finished putting together, Madame Pomfrey seemed to automatically know what to do. Quickly, she had run over to one of her cabinets and pulled out a vial filled with a clear liquid - a deflating draught - with which she filled some sort of bulb syringe. She had then carefully inserted it between Hermione's lips and squeezed it to release the antidote straight in through her mouth. As the antidote made its way to her throat, it magically deflated all of the swelling she had as it went down, resulting in her finally being able to breathe again – and allowing her natural color to return.

It wasn't until Hermione was able to take a nice, deep breath again that Draco realized he'd been holding his.

"You're a very lucky girl," Madame Pomfrey said to Hermione. "If you had arrived here a minute or two later, it might have been too late." She looked at Draco. "It's a good thing you were there."

"Yeah," he muttered.

Madame Pomfrey turned back to Hermione. "Now, my dear, what exactly were you doing ingesting puffer fish eyes?"

Hermione blinked in confusion. "I was making a potion for Potions class. Veritaserum."

"Goodness gracious!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed. "Puffer fish eyes are not used in Veritaserum!"

"I-I know they aren't," Hermione stammered. "At least, I think I know that. I don't remember putting them on my list."

"Your list?" Madame Pomfrey inquired.

Suddenly, Draco felt a chill travel up his spine. "She made up a list of ingredients for her partner to get for the project," he numbly informed the nurse.

"Oh. Well, you should probably let your partner know that puffer fish eyes do not belong in Veritaserum potion!"

Draco's hand slowly began to form into a fist at his side. He was pretty sure Blaise Zabini didn't need to be told that.

"Is she going to be okay?" he asked.

Madame Pomfrey nodded. "She will be fine, as long as she's able to keep breathing normally." Turning to Hermione, she said, "How is your breathing?"

"It's fine," Hermione replied, taking a deep breath as if to prove it.

"Very well," the nurse said. "Regardless, I'm going to give you a small vial of Deflating Draught to keep with you just in case. Effects of swelling potions usually never linger after they are cured, nor do they return, but I'd rather be safe than sorry." She handed the vial to Hermione.

"Thank you very much," she said politely. "Am I free to leave now?"

"Of course," Madame Pomfrey replied. "But only if you promise me you will dispose of your potion as soon as you get back."

"I promise." Hermione smiled, and then turned to Draco. "Ready?"

Draco nodded as Hermione stood up from the bed. He followed her out of the infirmary, giving Madame Pomfrey an appreciative look as he left, not knowing for sure if she even noticed.

They began their trek back to their tower in complete silence, with Hermione walking a few feet in front of Draco. However, it wasn't long before she stopped walking and said, "I feel so stupid."

Draco halted in his steps, barely avoiding a collision with her. Taking a quick step back, he said, "Don't feel stupid, Granger. It could have happened to anyone."

Hermione shook her head as she began walking again. "How could I have been so foolish as to copy those ingredients down wrong? I should have been paying more attention. I must have copied from the wrong page."

"Granger, don't beat yourself up over this," Draco muttered as he followed her down the hall. "I'm sure it wasn't even your fault."

"Of course it was! I copied the information down wrong, and then -" She paused for a moment, then gasped. "What if Blaise had tested the potion, not me? Or what if neither of us had tested it before next week, and the volunteer had drank it? Thank Merlin I was the one who tested it out first…"

Draco shook his head in disbelief. Not only was she blaming herself for the whole mishap, but she was also relieved that she had been the one to nearly die from it. Her similarities to the real Hermione Granger were becoming more evident every day - she had always thought of everyone else's well being before her own.

He decided not to disagree with her. In fact, he decided not to say anything at all.

So they continued on their way in silence, until Hermione turned to him and said, "Thank you for…you know. For saving me." She shrugged. "I mean, I know you're not my biggest fan, so the fact that you helped me…well, I appreciate it."

"Yeah, well, I've already seen you die once. I wasn't about to do it again," Draco mumbled.

Hermione glanced over at him. "She really meant a lot to you, didn't she?" she asked softly.

When Draco failed to respond in anyway, she said, "You meant a lot to her too, you know."

Draco snorted. "And just how, exactly, would you know that?"

"I've read her journal. Remember?"

Draco's breath caught in his throat. He stared at the girl walking next to him, searching her face for any indication that she may have been lying. But he did not find any.

"I don't want to hear about it," he said quickly, even though it was a lie. "Whatever she wrote in that diary is none of my business, nor is it any of yours."

"Oh come on," she said with a slight hint of a smile. "You don't want to hear about how she -"

"No!" Draco snapped. "And I can't believe you're still reading it."

"I'm not still reading it," she said. "I finished it last night. I know I shouldn't have read it, but it was just so interesting to read her thoughts, because they were so close to my own."

He did not detect any shame or regret in her voice, but then why would he? While it was certainly wrong to read another person's personal thoughts, perhaps an exception could be made if that other person was just another version of you. Either way, he wanted nothing to do with it, regardless of how much he was dying to know what she had thought about him.

Finally they arrived back at their tower, where the knight in the portrait was thrilled to see that Hermione was alive and well. He greeted her warmly as she entered the portrait hole, and for once he didn't look at Draco with complete contempt. Draco figured his heroic gesture of rushing Hermione to the hospital wing probably earned him some points with the knight, who no doubt thought that Draco was a selfish bastard who only cared about himself.

When they entered the common room, Hermione began heading straight for her bedroom, but Draco stopped her.

"So why exactly did you test out that potion, anyway?" he asked her. "Because Blaise told you to?"

"He suggested it, yeah," Hermione replied. "He said that we would need to test it ourselves before we gave it to anyone else. He said I would know if it was okay if it had no flavor, and that if we had made it wrong, it would taste bitter. And he was right – it did taste bitter."

Draco could feel anger beginning to well up inside of him. "So then it was his idea?"

"I guess you could say that," Hermione said. She narrowed her eyes at him. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you were suggesting that Blaise had intentionally tried to poison me." She scoffed, as if it were ridiculous to even think it.

Her naivety was positively mind-boggling, yet endearing at the same time, because it was the same naivety that the real Hermione Granger had possessed. She had always wanted to think the best about everyone, until she was given an absolute reason not to.

When Draco did not respond, Hermione sighed and said, "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning. Oh, and please don't tell Blaise about this, okay? I feel foolish enough about this already."

"I won't say a word," Draco lied. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she said with a smile. "And thank you again."

He nodded as she turned and headed up to her bedroom. As soon as she disappeared behind her door, he turned to the coffee table, where they had left everything earlier. The potion was still there, as were Hermione's schoolbooks. He picked up the potions book and flipped through it. When he found nothing in it, he went to place it back on the table and noticed a folded piece of parchment sticking out from beneath another book. He picked it up and unfolded it.

It was exactly what he had been looking for: Hermione's list of Veritaserum ingredients. He scanned the list from top to bottom, and just as he had suspected, nowhere on the list had she added puffer fish eyes.

Draco crumpled up the piece of parchment in his hand. The next morning, he would be paying a visit to Blaise Zabini.

So Draco had come up with the idea of making a swelling solution, which they would then mix in with tubes of lip gloss. Somehow, they would find a way to replace the girls' lip gloss tubes with the tainted ones, and then sit back and enjoy the show as each and every girl rushed to the hospital wing in panic, with their grossly swollen lips. Since Draco had come up with the idea, he gave Crabbe and Goyle the task of switching the lip gloss tubes, and he gave Blaise the job of finding the ingredients and helping him make the potion. Blaise had had no problem obtaining the ingredients, which included puffer fish eyes, and he could easily identify each and every one.

This was the memory that kept running through Draco's mind as he waited patiently outside of the Slytherin tower early the next morning. So far, most of the students had left for the Great Hall, but Blaise still had yet to make an appearance.

When he did finally emerge, he saw Draco right away and smirked.

"Draco! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Remaining as calm as possible, Draco replied, "I was just reminiscing of the old days, when we used raise hell around here."

"Oh yeah?" Blaise said, arching an eyebrow. "Missing those good old days, are you?"

"Not really, Zabini. See, I've grown up quite a bit since those days. I like to think I'm a bit older and wiser than I used to be. How about you?"

"Well, I'm older," Blaise said with a chuckle. "So what exactly sent you on this path down memory lane?"

"Oh, I think you know," Draco said. "Played any good pranks recently?"

Blaise grinned. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

"She could have died," Draco said in a low voice.

Blaise snorted. "Who, Granger? So that's what this about? You mean she actually drank that potion?" He laughed. "Man, it was just a joke."

"Just a joke?" Draco spoke through clenched teeth. "How is nearly killing someone just a joke?"

"Oh don't be so melodramatic," Blaise said. "Is she dead? No. So then what is the big deal? If you want to get upset with anyone, get upset with her for being such an idiot. She trusted me – that was her own stupid fault."

"You're blaming her for putting her trust in you? That's a good one, Zabini. All I can say is that you're lucky I was there to help her. Because if she had died, you wouldn't be so glib right about now."

"So you saved her life, then?" Blaise said. "I should have known you would save the day, you knight-in-shining-armor, you. So, what – you're falling in love with this one, too?"

Draco's blood turned cold in his veins and his breath hitched in his throat.

Noticing the look on Draco's face, Blaise burst out laughing. "What – you mean you weren't aware of the fact I knew about your feelings for Hermione Granger? Oh please, Draco– I wasn't stupid."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco said weakly. He didn't even sound convincing to himself.

"I had started to suspect it early on," Blaise said, "but it wasn't until the Yule Ball that it was confirmed. I watched you drool all over yourself when she showed up in that hot little dress, and then I watched you practically melt into her on the dance floor. Oh, and who could forget the look of pure rage on your face when Potter kissed her? You looked like you wanted to kill someone. Really, it couldn't have been any more obvious. It was so nauseating to watch."

Draco was at a loss for words. Part of him wanted to cuss at him, but he knew his defensiveness would give him away. Instead, he said, "You have no idea what you are talking about, Zabini. Granger and I were roommates. Perhaps we were even friends. But we were nothing more. But even if we had been, I honestly would not have cared how nauseating you thought it was. And I am certainly not falling for this Hermione Granger. Pardon me if I don't want to just sit back and watch you hurt someone who has done absolutely nothing to you. Do you not have any clue as to how much trouble you could get into for this?"

"It was an accident, Draco. Nobody would have suspected otherwise, if only the bitch had kept her mouth shut. I'm assuming she said I had told her to drink it?"

"Watch yourself, Zabini," Draco growled. "You'd be surprised at what people will suspect."

"I think I would have to disagree with that, Draco."

"Stay away from her," Draco warned.

"And just how am I supposed to do that?" Blaise said. "She's my Potion's partner."

"You will go back to doing what you normally do with projects like these – absolutely nothing. She will finish the project by herself, with no help from you. She will get you a good grade on it, which you will in no way deserve, in exchange for you staying the hell away from her. And if I see you so much as within ten feet from her, I will make you regret it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Loud and clear," Blaise replied with a smirk.

Satisfied with his answer, Draco turned to go – but stopped at the next words that came out of Blaise's mouth.

"So you said that I would be surprised at what people will suspect. Do you mean like how you've probably suspected all this time that Granger died because of Potter?"

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. He spun around. "What the hell did you just say?"

Blaise folded his arms across his chest and casually leaned up against the wall. "You have suspected that all along, haven't you? I mean, it makes perfect sense, doesn't it? She was a friend of the almighty Harry Potter. Of course someone would want to harm someone close to him. It would be the ultimate way to weaken him, right? By permanently taking away someone he cared deeply for." He pushed himself off the wall and took a few steps closer to Draco. "But what I don't quite get, if that was true, is why didn't that Death Eater kill Weasley instead? Surely he's been closer with Potter these past seven years than Granger ever was. Or better yet, why didn't he kill little Ginny Weasley – Harry Potter's girlfriend? Surely either one of those deaths would have affected him more than Granger's death. So I wonder why he chose her?"

Draco did not like where this was heading, but he was too stunned to say anything. Too stunned to walk away.

"Did you ever stop and think that perhaps Hermione Granger's death had nothing to do with Harry Potter? That perhaps, her death had to do with something completely different? Or, rather, someone completely different?"

And suddenly, it all began to dawn on Draco. The realization took his breath away. "You," he managed to sputter. "Zabini, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, Draco. It's what you did. You fell in love with a mudblood. Did you have any idea what that was going to do to your family name? Or how crushed your mother would be when she found out? And your poor father – he was probably rolling in his grave -"

Without even a second thought, Draco lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of Blaise's robes and drove him up against the wall. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?" he screamed.

Blaise didn't even flinch. "I couldn't let it happen," he replied calmly. "You would have disgraced your family. You would have disgraced purebloods…and Slytherins. I couldn't let you do that. You were my best friend, Draco. Do you remember? We were both going to become Death Eaters someday. We were going to make our parents proud. It was our dream, Draco. A dream you forgot all about once you started playing house with the mudblood. I noticed the change in you. Crabbe and Goyle noticed it, and Pansy too. But they were all too stupid to figure it out – that we were losing you to the other side. But I wasn't going to lose you that easily, Draco. So I did something about it."

Draco tightened his grasp on Blaise's robes and pushed him further up against the wall. "You killed her," he hissed.

Blaise shook his head. "I merely informed a Death Eater of your relationship with her. What he did with that information was his decision, and his alone. Although I must say, I think he did the right thing."

Instantly, Draco clamped his hand loosely around Blaise's throat. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I thought it was about time you knew," he replied, "that she died because of you."

Yanking him away from the wall, Draco delivered a punch to Blaise's face with all of the strength he had. He heard a sickening cracking sound that was most likely the sound of his nose breaking. A sharp pain shot up Draco's hand, but he ignored it.

"You son of a bitch!" he cried, punching him again.

That blow sent Blaise crumpling to the ground. He sat there for a moment, holding his hand over his bloodied nose. He looked up at Draco and said, "Beating the shit out of me is not going to bring her back. Nor is it going to protect the new one."

Draco responded by kicking him swiftly in the stomach, sending him sprawled out on his back against the floor. He bent down and leaned over him. He whipped out his wand and pointed it directly at the center of Blaise's chest. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

Blaise grinned a bloody grin, but he did not answer.

Draco wondered briefly how Blaise could be so calm and cool when his death was possibly only two simple words away, but he realized why when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

"What is going on here?"

Draco immediately lowered his wand and hung his head in defeat. He moved off of Blaise so that the boy could sit up.

Professor Dumbledore glanced at Blaise. "Go up to the hospital wing, Mr. Zabini," he ordered.

"Sir, Blaise -"

"Silence, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said calmly. He kept his hand on Draco's shoulder as Blaise slowly stood and began staggering away. Once Blaise had rounded the corner, Dumbledore released his hand from Draco, letting him stand up. "Now," he said, "Would you mind telling me what just happened?"

Draco shook his head. "It was just a friendly dispute, sir."

"You broke the young man's nose, Draco," Dumbledore said. "I can suspend you for that."

"You could," Draco said calmly. "But if he had just told you what he told me, I think you would have broken his nose too."

"Enlighten me."

Leaving out the whole latter part of his conversation with Blaise, he simply told Dumbledore that Blaise had tried to poison Hermione with their potion the night before.

"That is a very serious accusation," Dumbledore said.

"Blaise knows exactly what puffer fish eyes look like. And he knows there is no such ingredient in Veritaserum. He fed some story to Hermione about how she needed to test it out. If you don't believe me, ask her. Hell, ask Blaise himself – he'll probably confess. He is a sick bastard, Professor."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at him. "Is there more to the story than you're telling me?"

"You have no idea," Draco mumbled. As he brushed past the Head Master, he added, "I'll save you the trouble of suspending me. I'm suspending myself."

"You're going in the wrong direction," she said, as Draco bent down to pick up her books. "Classes are in the opposite direction."

"I'm not attending classes today," he muttered. "I'm not feeling so well."

"Are you sick?"

"Something like that," he replied, walking past her. "Oh, don't forget – we have patrol tonight. Be back here before eight."

Hermione nodded. "I hope you feel better," she said, before continuing on down the hall.

Draco doubted he'd be feeling better anytime soon.

This new revelation was slowly killing him inside. Deep down, he'd been feeling responsible for Hermione's death these past two months – but that was only because he'd been unable to protect her or save her. But knowing that his feelings for her were what led to her death – it was too much to handle. Blaise had known it would kill him. That's precisely why he had finally told him.

He walked into the common room, unsure of what he was going to do with his free time. All he really wanted to do was lie down and sleep away his time. But sleep was never an escape for him anymore, as he was usually plagued with nightmares about her. And with this new information, there was a good chance that Hermione would not only die in his next dream, but that he may very well be the one to kill her.

So he sat down on the couch and buried his face in his hands. He had no idea what he was going to do. He wasn't sure how much longer he could live here, in this common room – in this school. Suddenly, he could empathize with this new Hermione's desire to leave her own world. Right now, that idea sounded pretty good to him.

He sat back on the couch, intending to spend the next few minutes staring at the ceiling, but something on the table before him caught his eye: Hermione's journal. It had been set neatly onto the table, with a bookmark sticking out from the top – and a broken lock on the side. This hadn't been carelessly left out by his roommate. She had left it there specifically for him to read.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. This girl was persistent. It wouldn't matter how many times he told her he didn't want to read Hermione's journal – there was obviously something she wanted him to see.

The temptation was overwhelming. He considered putting forth his willpower and ignoring it, but he had been weakened so much by Blaise earlier that he gave up and gave in. What would be the harm in reading her journal? He had been responsible for her death. The crime of him reading her journal now somehow paled in comparison.

So he picked it up and carefully opened it to the bookmarked page. He took out the bookmark and placed it on the table. With a sigh and a last minute hesitation, he began to read.

November 15th, 1997

Dear Diary,

The most extraordinary thing has happened. I was sitting across from Harry at breakfast this morning when I was suddenly hit with the realization that I am completely over him. That's right – completely and one hundred percent over him. I cannot tell you how relieved I was when it dawned on me. In fact, I couldn't stop grinning. Probably everyone at the table thought I was crazy, smiling at absolutely nothing. But I was just so happy. These past couple of years have been miserable for me, pining away after a boy who didn't want me. Watching him slowly fall in love with one of my best friends. But that is probably one of the worst things about love – not being able to turn it on or off at will. You love who you love until you love them no longer.

That is why I suddenly feel as though a weight has been lifted from me. I feel free – free from these feelings that have been plaguing me for years. I no longer have to worry about ruining my friendship with Harry – because I am perfectly happy with the fact that friendship is all we will ever have. This has truly been a wonderful day, dear diary.

Except, of course, for the fact that while I am over Harry Potter, I have managed to fall for someone else who is just as equally unattainable. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Why can't I develop feelings for someone who would be likely to return them? Someone like…Neville. He's such a nice boy, and I'm pretty sure he likes me at least a little bit. If only I could develop some genuine feelings for him. But no, I have to fall for Draco Malfoy, who is an insufferable git – and who hates my guts. He would never be interested in me – just like Harry never would be. I'm just a boring, know-it-all, unattractive mudblood. Why do I even bother to like boys in the first place? I'm Hermione Granger! I love schoolwork! I should be putting that above all else. In fact, I think I'll go spend some time with my schoolwork right now – especially since Malfoy just walked through the door.

Ugh, he just gave me that look he gives me whenever he sees me writing in this thing. If only he knew the things I've written about him in here. Oh, I can't even bear to think of that happening. I would just die.

Draco gently closed the journal, but continued to stare at it in disbelief. Amazingly enough, he thought he might have remembered this very day. He remembered spotting her from across the Great Hall, seeing her with a big smile directed at Harry, and interpreting it as a sign of her affection for him. But it had been the complete opposite!

And not only that, but…she had developed feelings for him? In as early as November? How could he have missed it? How could he possibly have not known she felt that way about him? It made no sense.

But it actually did make sense. She had been in love with Harry for years, and he had missed it too. The only difference between Draco and Harry was the fact that Draco had actually returned the feelings. And she'd had no idea. She thought he could never possibly love her.

This revelation should have made him happy – to know that she had loved him back. But instead, it broke his heart into a million pieces to know that if only he had revealed his feelings for her, they could have been together, and perhaps she never would have died. They could have run away together – somewhere no one would have been able to find them – another world, perhaps. If this new Hermione could have escaped her world, perhaps they would have been able to escape theirs. He would have done it – and without a moment's hesitation. He would have done anything for her.

But now it was too late.

He set the diary back down on the table. He didn't want to read anymore.