Off-Beat
- Sherry
A/N : Can you tell I'm on medication? : )
Disclaimer : Draco belongs to J. K. Rowling, although I wish he belonged to me... Hermione, Harry and all belong to her too. And I still think Hermione and Ron are made for each other. I just like toying with Hermione and Draco.
::And you're crawling down a long, wrong road / Fitted for the box they mould / All you're mixing is the heart they stole:: - Hanson, Sure About It
I'm wandering the streets incognito. Sure, anyone could recognise me. If they wanted to. But you know what? I don't care.
I always wear these clothes now; my black denim jeans and turtleneck sweater. Do you ever wonder why? I do. A lot. I look like some model for an advertisement. I was once told that I looked like a model... now I laugh as I remember it. I remember a lot of stuff. I look like some j.d. wandering Knockturn Alley for pure lack of anything better to do... I am a j.d. wandering Knockturn Alley for pure lack of anything better to do.
As I stray from the path and sit down by the side of the old shop door I think about her. I dream about kissing her, twining my arms round her neck, whispering in her ear. That's how it should me. I maintain that fiercely. Don't you dare deny it. Can't you see I'm smirking? Yeah, I loved her. I still do. But did you actually think it was going to be? Don't answer that. My brain holds more strangeness that I gave it credit for.
They all know me. The slender kid with wispy hair and those horrible icy eyes. What do I care? Oh, nothing. I just want to be back. Back in that warm atmosphere, where I didn't have this slit on my cheek, these hollows in my cheeks, this cigarette in my hand. Back when she was in my arms, when I actually combed my hair properly. Now it fronds my collar like small white ferns and everyone who passes me stares. Is this Draco Malfoy you ask? Here's my stock-standard answer: D'OH!
I find this place more to my liking than home, though. I return there when I feel like it. Other times I just sleep under the stars. Romantic it sounds but dreary it is. You see the smirk on my face. Can't you see I'm the picture of a j.d.? I've never actually been called one, but it's understood. I'm not really one. Never will be. I want to go home, but I'm too proud. And it would be rather anticlimactic, to march in and say 'Hello, I'm back' after being gone for, oh, God knows how may years. I want someone to ask me. Someone to bring me home.
I slump and bury my head in my hands, thinking about *her*. The only person who has my heart, cold and biting as it is. You wouldn't want to hold it. Yet she does, and she still does, every touch of her hand bringing these bittersweet tears to my eyes. I realise that it would never be possible to hold back, to stop loving her. Sweet visions swim before my eyes. Can't you see I'm crying?
Hermione Granger hurried into Knockturn Alley, glancing furtively around. She knew he was here... he had to be here somewhere. She thanked her lucky stars that Harry had told her that. He missed Draco too... with a twisted sense of fraternity, yes. Hermione saw a few figures fast asleep near a dingy old shop, and, covering her nose and mouth, went to look at them.
The first two were absolutely and totally stoned, and Hermione let them alone. She hurried on to the next sleeping figure, loosely covered as it was with an old robe. Hermione pulled the robe off gently and was faced with a tall, slender figure clad in dark jeans and sweater, only emphasising the paleness of its colouring. She gasped, reaching out a hand to trace the outline of a familiar face, bending to kiss a very familiar person. As her lips touched his she reached up a hand to smooth his hair. His eyes opened slowly.
'What the hell...' His voice trailed off as he saw Hermione standing over him, an outstretched hand ready to pull him to his feet. He blinked several times and tried to speak, but no sound came out. He glanced over at the two others, who slept on peacefully. 'Am I drunk?'
Pulling him to his feet, Hermione whispered, 'No...'
Draco, still blinking furiously, bent to kiss her again. His whole mind was upside down. He put his arms around her, pulling her close, and tentatively she returned the embrace, stepping closer to this apparition - if he was at all more than a figment of the imagination - and losing herself, mind whirling and spinning, falling into his eyes.
'So it is you,' he whispered in her ear. 'Why'd you come for me?' Her lips found his neck and moved upward to his ear.
'Because I love you.'
'Great,' he whispered back, before kissing her again as she ran her hand lightly over his cheek, the pale slit shining out.
'Let's go home,' she said, taking his cold hand in hers. And they walked out of Knockturn Alley, the moon shining brightly on their faces, their steps eager. They were indeed going home.
A/N 2 : Well, please don't flame... I'm on serious medication, Voltaren and depression... I know this sucks... if you don't like it I'll change it.