Chapter 21- Declarations

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"We have something important to tell you Professor." Hermione whispered at a barely audible volume, Draco's arm around her waist.

"Well, go on and say it Miss Granger. I'm a busy woman, I really am." The Headmistress turned away from the papers she was flicking through, looking straight into Hermione's eyes.

Hermione opened her mouth to start to tell the story, but nothing but a breath came out. Her brain told her to speak, but her voice said no. She couldn't bear to talk about it so soon. A lone tear fell down her cheek as a flash of his blue tie made her gasp. McGonagall stared at her with a stern look on her face, but once she came to an understanding that Hermione could not speak, her face softened and she turned to look at Draco.

"Very well." She said softly, like she was speaking to a toddler. "Can you explain Mr Malfoy?"

She heard Draco start telling the story, but his words were only murmurs and mumbles. His statement was the soundtrack to the hands around her wrists and the ripping of clothing and the grunts and the screams. Hermione tried to ground herself. You're in the headmistress' office. You are safe, she assured herself. She gripped the leather armchair, but it didn't feel like anything. As he talked the memories flooded by; waves and waves crashing on the shore of her mind. In a daze she saw the same picture over and over. Leather business shoes strutting through the door.

"A few days passed and here we are." Draco finished. He was nervously staring at Hermione, trying to gage her reaction. She felt him softly squeeze her shaking hand as she came back to earth.

Hermione woke up from her stupor to see McGonagall staring right at her, like she was a little puppy cowering in a trash can. God, why does she have to stare at me like that? The brunette averted her eyes, glancing up at the beautiful arched ceiling instead.

"This is very a serious accusation, Mr Malfoy." She refocused on her teacher again, whose face was creased with frown lines. You could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"It's really true!" Draco exclaimed in defence, his face contorting. "Professor Cheriah really did... attack Hermione."

The woman tucked a wisp of her silver hair into her hat and straightened her dress. Her silence echoed through the room, making Hermione even more nervous.

"I'll look into it. Thank you." The headmistress stood from her chair and turned to face the portrait of Dumbledore himself who was giving her some sort of strange look.

Draco pulled Hermione up from the chair, causing her to jolt unexpectedly. His face was red with anger. He was certainly worked up. I never knew he cared that much.

"You okay?" His look of rage was replaced by concern.

She straightened and put her hand on his shoulder, flashing him a genuine smile. He was her saviour. Hermione had no idea what she would do without him by her side every day.

"I'm alright Draco, I really am."

He nodded and lead her out of the room, not saying a word. It was reassuring that he respected her. Draco was very silent, seeming to be deep in thought about what had happened. She somehow understood how he felt. Questioning how in the world this could've happened. As soon as they left the office, the air of tranquillity came over her again. Maybe her anxiety had been passed onto Draco.

They held hands walking back to the dormitory, swinging their arms back and forth between them. His thumb circled her palm. It was comforting. I wonder when the weather will brighten up- Draco abruptly stopped, causing her arm to yank painfully. She turned and gave him an annoyed look.

"I've got a brilliant idea, Granger!" His face was alight with a huge smile.

"Well, go on!" She was beginning to smile too; his happiness was contagious, like a candle in the darkness.

"We'll race." He said mischievously and pulled away from her to run down the hall. She chased after him with glee.

"I'm going to win Granger!" He called over his shoulder, laughing.

"In your dreams Malfoy!"

~

A mug of hot, black coffee sat on the table in front of Professor Cheriah. He was sitting in the new staffroom, reading up on potions, with a bunch of idiot teachers talking around him. He didn't really care about the subject, but that idiot Slughorn was the only teacher he could convince to take leave so he could take his classes for a few days for 'work experience'. His mind slipped away from the recipe he was reading and into one of his favourite things to daydream about. Little Miss Hermione Granger. Her mousy brown hair when she was young, her lovely brown eyes. He had read up about her when he realised she was in his class. She was beautiful, and she was his.

But memories were interrupted when a group of people- also idiots- came into the room, loudly chattering like gossiping school girls and taking their seats around the beautifully carpeted room. He had heard this whole place was destroyed in the war, and he had read about it the paper, but that wasn't his problem. This room was supposed to be a new addition. Although there wasn't much difference with the room's décor compared to the rest of the school. Great arched windows, stone walls and enormous wooden tables. It was a nice room. Nicer than that freezing frost-covered shitty dungeon with the cold-ass floor. Not good to lie on.

The room was filled with teachers, and the old Headmistress was standing at a wooden podium, awaiting silence. You don't rule the world just because you rule the school, bitch. It was soon quiet and so the woman began her speech.

"Welcome, staff. Today I come to you to speak about a very serious matter."

She glanced around the room before continuing.

"It is come to light that one of the teachers here at Hogwarts has assaulted one of our students."

His heart came to his throat as the room erupted into whispers.

"I'm not going to name the student or any of the suspects. But I will say this is a serious investigation and will be dealt with immediately. We will find the culprit. Thank you."

She stepped down from the podium and walked out of the room. The teachers went into hysteria, bustling about and shouting. But he wasn't listening. His heart was beating like he'd run a marathon and he could barely breathe. His head was in his hands. He didn't deserve prison. All he could think of is that fucker. Draco Malfoy.

Fucking.

Draco.

Malfoy.

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Hey guys! I'm back with another chapter! I'm exciting of how things are warming up! Thanks for keeping up the support! Love you guys!!! Vote, comment, do nothing, whatever! You guys rock!

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