When they met again

He saw her with a cigarette in her mouth and a bottle of Firewhiskey in her hand. She would blanch every time she took a sip and coughed every time she inhaled a hit. Her hair was still a mess, all tied up in a curly bun on top of her head. Once his eyes were set upon her form, they never left again.

He was drawn to her, and he didn't know why. This disgusting Mudblood took all of his attention, and he didn't like it.

When she finally noticed that he had been leering at her, she approached him. As she got closer, he realized that she was looking unhealthier than he remembered.

Hermione Granger looked like she was about to smash the bottle on his head and enjoy it. Draco felt like he was about to enjoy her too.

"Malfoy.".

He acknowledged her with a smirk, "Looking as filthy as ever, Granger."

She scrunched up her nose at his words.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," she replied, sounding like she'd been yelling for three days straight because of her constant coughing. "Death Eater scum. Blood purist who doesn't have a place in the world."

After she said that, heat-filled rage consumed him. His whole body warmed up to an uncomfortable state. He almost thanked her for it; this was the most he'd ever felt since the war ended. He was suddenly alive because of her.

"Nothing's changed," he told her. He knew he was sporting the ugliest sneer on his mouth, but he did not care. "You're still a bitch."

She did end up throwing the bottle at him, but he'd managed to dodge it, the bottle of Firewhiskey smashing against the wall instead.

"And you're still a worthless piece of shit," she shot back, tossing her cigarette at his face.

They went back and forth like that for a long while. Draco called her a Mudblood too many times for him to count. She told him he was worthless, and he believed her. She stabbed him with one of her bottle's broken pieces. He fisted her hair in retaliation, pushing her against the dirty wall and kissing her with his teeth.

Hermione Granger ignited a passion in him that he hadn't felt since the war ended. He loved it.

When she tried to leave him

"Are you sure that's the decision you want to make, Hermione?" Draco taunted from behind her; she could practically hear him sneering. "You can leave me if you want—abandon me like everyone else did—but I swear that as soon as you walk out that door, I'll blow my fucking brains out."

His words stopped her from turning the doorknob. Her shocked gasp was apparent and too loud. She knew he had heard it. Even if she were not looking in his direction, she knew he was smirking smugly when she hesitated in opening the door. She never liked it when he got the upper hand.

So she shrugged off her surprise and scoffed. "Stop telling me lies, Draco. You're a coward. We both know you can't kill yourself."

"You want to test me, Granger?" Her first name never sounded as right as her last name did on his lips. When he called her by her surname, Hermione was reminded of their Hogwarts days, and she never liked him back in those days. "One word and I'm dead. Do you want me to do it?"

Tremors went through her frame as she thought of Draco's corpse. She didn't want him dead. She needed him alive. What would she ever do if he died? She didn't want to mourn him. She didn't want to be sad and pathetic. And if he did say the word and kill himself at this moment, right behind her—she wouldn't be able to bear it. Her right hand clenched into a fist, feeling her tears coat her cheeks.

She didn't want him dead.

"Reduc—"

Hermione cut him off as soon as she heard him speak, "Expelliarmus!"

His wand fell into the floor, clattering against the marble. She stared at his arrogant and damningly beautiful face, her hand shaking as she held her own wand. She had never felt hatred this strong before. He was the only person she genuinely despised. Not even Voldemort made her feel like this.

"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you," she repeated those three words like a prayer. Though, she feared that he would never get it no matter how many times she said it out loud.

Draco licked his lips, his tempting lips, and gave a cruel chuckle. "I love you, too, Granger."

She knew that his words were genuine. She knew he really did love her. She knew she loved him as well. She had never thought that hating and loving someone the same amount was possible—but it was. It was the perfect description for both of them. They hated each other as much as they loved each other.

When he stalked towards her with a purpose, her mind went blank. Draco looked like a determined man about to take what was his. When his rough hands grabbed her tear-stained face, she felt the sweetest of chills in her veins. And when he claimed her lips with his own dried ones, Hermione was gone.

Lust and loathing took over her as she sucked on his tongue before she caught it between her teeth, biting as hard as she could until he bled.

Draco pushed her off of him with a curse. His glare was intense, and she shivered again, closing her eyes to save the feeling of him looking at her with such emotion. While her eyes were shut, she felt his hand colliding with her left cheek in a loud slap. Before she could even react, Draco gripped her hair and kissed her once more. She released a moan.

"I love you so much," was the last coherent thing she remembered leaving her mouth before she let herself drown in him.

When he tried to leave her

"Fuck Astoria Greengrass!" his lifeline screeched, her magic making his clothes rip into shreds in the air. "Do you want her? Do you want her perfect white legs around your hips? Do you want her in your bed every night? Do you want her pure blood on your tongue?"

Hermione Granger was insane, or at least that was what his friends told him. She never liked the idea of him being close to another girl. She hated it—he was pretty sure she loathed the idea of him fucking Astoria more than she ever did the Dark Lord. For her anger, Draco was almost flattered, but he was truly getting annoyed.

She'd been thinking that he was cheating on her with Astoria Greengrass ever since his parents forced him to spend time with her. He loved her, honestly, but he was just sick of it. She was always in his flat, attempting to destroy his life out of jealousy, or turning against him and wounding him with her bouts of accidental magic.

Draco had enough of her. Admittedly, their 'relationship' had been fun at first—sex with the casual side effects of bleeding and abuse—but he was tired of her jealous fits interfering with his life. And besides, his friends were getting suspicious of the scars constantly appearing on his body. He didn't want his friends to think that he was letting Hermione Granger, of all people, beat him up.

Possessiveness could only be sexy for long before it disgusted him. Her jealousy was now overbearing. She wasn't being cute or anything anymore. She was just a constant annoyance in his life.

"Put my robes down, Hermione," he tried to softly instruct. Being soft never worked on him, anyway. He was Draco fucking Malfoy, and Malfoys weren't supposed to be soft anywhere.

"You're fucking her, aren't you?" she snarled at him, tearing his 500 Galleon jumper apart. "Do you think she's better than me, is that it? I'm a war hero! What did she even do in the war?"

She continued her angry rambling, but he no longer paid attention. If he wasn't careful, her rage could fuel his, and they would both end up destroying the whole entire building.

Draco sighed, trying to calm himself. He was merely going to turn around, leave, and never see Hermione Granger again. She could destroy his clothes if she wanted to, but he was going to leave him without doubts or regrets.

But then she said something that struck him to the core.

"What would you be without me?" she spat. "Do you really think they would even be looking at you if it weren't for me? You're nothing but a criminal without me. Do you hear me? Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Her words were harsh and cruel, but Draco believed every syllable, so he stayed.

He stayed for a lifetime.