Flaws
A/N: Ok, this is one of my experiments, just that this time do have a plot, a good one in fact. The title won't mean anything until the end of the story. Hope you'll enjoy this one. R/R!
Hermione placed her sunglasses atop her head and rubbed her temples gently as she turned slowly around.
"I don't think it's going to work out, Harry. Would you and Ron have been my friends if you had not come to save me from the troll?" she asked. She wasn't shouting, but he could hear the anger in her voice.
Harry hadn't a clue what to say; never had he thought that they wouldn't have been friends if not for the troll incident.
"Exactly! You've never thought about it, right? You probably didn't feel the need to, that I'd always be there for you, for you to copy my homework answers, to stand up for you. You thought wrong, Harry Potter. I don't think I can love you anymore." She said this all while pushing her luggage into her compartment on the train.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I would like some time alone." She shoved him out, closed the door and locked it, without giving him a chance to speak.
She plopped onto the cushy bench and sighed. She had never thought that she wouldn't have been friends with Harry and Ron if Professor Quirrell had not let in that monster. It had only popped into her mind when they were reminiscing the good times they had the night before. The last night they had in Hogwarts.
She had been dating Harry for the past 2 years, after Harry had lost his feelings for Cho Chang. They had had good times, but Hermione thought it was for the best.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. A certain blonde-haired Head Boy was standing outside, a concerned look on his face. She smiled at him, much too lazy to get up, she drew her wand out from her pocket and unlocked the door for him.
"A penny for your thoughts," he said, with a smirk. He wasn't one to smile.
Hermione's POV
"It's nothing, Draco. Just thinking about Harry."
He nodded in understanding, I had told him about breaking up with Harry the night before. He had supported my decision wholeheartedly. Making friends with Harry hadn't crossed his mind before even though he and Hermione had called it a truce. He wouldn't have minded seeing The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be- An-Asshole moping around because Bookworm Granger had dumped him. In fact, he liked the idea.
She remembered that day he arrived back at Hogwarts for their 6th year. He looked very much the same but he looked livelier, even slightly happy, in a good way. In their 7th year, when they held the Head titles he had told her his life was much better with his father put away in Azkaban. He had much more freedom and his mother wasn't subject to the abuse of his father like before.
"And I bet Potter was shocked to be dumped," he said in a voice that sounded much like a newscaster's.
I giggled; he never failed to make me laugh. He was always there when she needed a shoulder to lean on or a listening ear. He was the unlikeliest source of comfort. The blonde ferret I had despised in my first 5 years of Hogwarts was now one of my truest friends.
"Oh, he was. In fact, I got this picture of his face. I took it with the teeny camera you gave me, attached it to my sunglasses and took it," producing a photograph of Harry, eyes bulging and a shocked look on his face.
Draco burst out into fits of laughter, "The Daily Prophet would have a field day if they got hold of this picture. I could just see it, in big, bold letters across the front page: The-Boy-Who-Lived Dumped by Mudblood! And a caption below the picture saying: A shocked look on poor Potter's face."
I cringed at the word 'Mudblood'. I still wasn't accustomed to being called such a name. Draco seemed to notice and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Oh, Mai, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," remorse was clear in his voice.
"It's fine, Draco. It was just a slip of the tongue. I'm alright," he gave me a look of scepticism but accepted my answer with another mutter of 'sorry'.
Draco's POV
I felt so bad. I knew how much that word upset her, yet I didn't watch my tongue. The silence between us was thick and awkward. I didn't know what to say. I took out a piece of parchment and scribbled a note on it with a muggle contraption called a Pen, which Hermione had given me for my birthday. I passed it to her gingerly and she unfolded it.
As she read my note, I examined her. Her eyes were like pools of liquid chocolate with specks of golden honeycomb. She didn't have totally flawless skin, which I admired about her. She was never obsessed with her looks, and wouldn't fuss about an outbreak of pimples during that time of the month. Her lips were full and cushy, a light shade of red.
Her once-bushy dark brown hair was now slightly wavy. In classes and corridors, she kept her tresses plaited but in the comfort of the Head's rooms, she'd keep her waist length locks hanging loose, allowing them to sway as she walked about. The innocent caramel brown was now a mature shade of auburn, matching her features perfectly.
My eyes trailed to the fingers clutching the yellowed parchment, they weren't long and elegant like Pansy Parkinson's, but quite short. Her hands were small, and her clear varnish-coated fingernails were not smooth-edged but with ridges, a sign of her constant nail-biting.
She placed the parchment beside her and smiled widely, then stood up and announced she would be going out for some fresh air. Just as she stood up, the train gave a sudden jerk and she landed right on top of me.
My heart did a few flips, I had never felt that way before, was the feeling what I thought it was?
Hermione's POV
My heart did a few flips, I had never felt that way before, was the feeling what I thought it was? I'd never experienced such a feeling, not even when I was with Harry. His icy blue eyes stared up at me; he looked slightly afraid, maybe even nervous.
My eyes fluttered shut on their own accord and I leaned on him as if it was something natural. I lay my head on his chest, pressed my ear against it and sighed. I could hear his heart racing.
I could feel his eyes on me, watching me intently. Those deep icy-blue eyes of his, always calm, like a pool of clear azure water. His blonde eyebrows pencil thin and perfectly shaped, even though they weren't plucked. His skin wasn't flawless, and he had a few acne scars on his forehead. He had perfect lips, though always pressed into a thin smirk. Pity he hardly smiled. His lips concealed his pearly white teeth that weren't perfectly straight.
His slicked-back platinum blonde hair was now hanging loosely, framing his face, giving him a laidback look. His fingers were long and slim; his fingernails buffed nicely, always looking perfectly manicured.
I had his face perfectly imprinted in my mind, his hands etched onto my thought-space permanently. I had an exact picture of him stuck in my head, but why?
Draco's POV
I always thought about her, she was always on my priorities list. She was my best friend. She was always on my mind. I was sure of that. The only thing I couldn't understand, was why?
Author's POV
Hermione lay on Draco's chest, listening to his lifeline thumping steadily. Draco watched her attentively, registering her every move. They felt the same thing. They both knew what they felt, but they didn't know why.
Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at Draco, grinning at him. He pulled his lips into a thin smile, the first real smile Hermione had ever seen on him, as if it was a painful thing to do.
As the Hogwarts Express jerked to a stop, Hermione frowned, a tear slipping from her dark brown orbs. She knew she wouldn't be able to see him even though his father was locked up in a prison cell on a faraway island, his mother was still not very fond of Muggleborns.
He looked at her with concerned in his eyes, and hugged her tightly, neither said anything, no words were exchanged. He stood up and helped her up, leaving the light baggage to her while he took the burden of the heavier ones.
They stepped off the train, the last time they would ride it. No words were exchanged as they walked away from each other, to the warm welcome-back hugs from their parents. What they didn't know was neither wanted a welcome- back hug, they didn't know the thing they needed to comfort them both was a hug - one that was shared between them, a Pureblood Malfoy and a Muggleborn Granger.
1 Month Later
Professor Hermione Granger sighed as she boarded the shiny red train for the umpteenth time. She was happy to be going back to her alma mater but she wished there were someone waiting for her there, the person that had been the only thing that flooded her thoughts throughout the hot, humid summer.
She walked slowly into the professors' compartment and gasped as she saw a tall blonde man sitting on a bench, a pair of wire-framed spectacles perched atop his nose bridge. He looked up, startled at her sudden drawn in breath. He grinned widely; she knew that he had been practising.
She wrapped her arms around her best friend, Draco, into a hug, one more intimate than those usually shared between friends with platonic relationships. She sighed contentedly as they both relaxed, still holding each other.
He smiled into her hair, inhaling the buttery coconut scent of her shampoo.
They cuddled as they waited for the train to start, neither caring about the stares they got from the other professors that streamed in.
A piece of yellowed parchment fell from a certain professor's pocket, who was currently engaged in liplock. It read:
I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I have flaws, just like you do, but you know I love imperfections, right?
These words played in both their minds:
I have flaws, just like you, but they disappear when I hold you, when nothing matters anymore, nothing except the both of us.
A/N: Ok, that was sappy and crappy. I had to delete Fuego 'cos it wasn't going anywhere. I hope you liked that. R/R!
A/N: Ok, this is one of my experiments, just that this time do have a plot, a good one in fact. The title won't mean anything until the end of the story. Hope you'll enjoy this one. R/R!
Hermione placed her sunglasses atop her head and rubbed her temples gently as she turned slowly around.
"I don't think it's going to work out, Harry. Would you and Ron have been my friends if you had not come to save me from the troll?" she asked. She wasn't shouting, but he could hear the anger in her voice.
Harry hadn't a clue what to say; never had he thought that they wouldn't have been friends if not for the troll incident.
"Exactly! You've never thought about it, right? You probably didn't feel the need to, that I'd always be there for you, for you to copy my homework answers, to stand up for you. You thought wrong, Harry Potter. I don't think I can love you anymore." She said this all while pushing her luggage into her compartment on the train.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I would like some time alone." She shoved him out, closed the door and locked it, without giving him a chance to speak.
She plopped onto the cushy bench and sighed. She had never thought that she wouldn't have been friends with Harry and Ron if Professor Quirrell had not let in that monster. It had only popped into her mind when they were reminiscing the good times they had the night before. The last night they had in Hogwarts.
She had been dating Harry for the past 2 years, after Harry had lost his feelings for Cho Chang. They had had good times, but Hermione thought it was for the best.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. A certain blonde-haired Head Boy was standing outside, a concerned look on his face. She smiled at him, much too lazy to get up, she drew her wand out from her pocket and unlocked the door for him.
"A penny for your thoughts," he said, with a smirk. He wasn't one to smile.
Hermione's POV
"It's nothing, Draco. Just thinking about Harry."
He nodded in understanding, I had told him about breaking up with Harry the night before. He had supported my decision wholeheartedly. Making friends with Harry hadn't crossed his mind before even though he and Hermione had called it a truce. He wouldn't have minded seeing The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be- An-Asshole moping around because Bookworm Granger had dumped him. In fact, he liked the idea.
She remembered that day he arrived back at Hogwarts for their 6th year. He looked very much the same but he looked livelier, even slightly happy, in a good way. In their 7th year, when they held the Head titles he had told her his life was much better with his father put away in Azkaban. He had much more freedom and his mother wasn't subject to the abuse of his father like before.
"And I bet Potter was shocked to be dumped," he said in a voice that sounded much like a newscaster's.
I giggled; he never failed to make me laugh. He was always there when she needed a shoulder to lean on or a listening ear. He was the unlikeliest source of comfort. The blonde ferret I had despised in my first 5 years of Hogwarts was now one of my truest friends.
"Oh, he was. In fact, I got this picture of his face. I took it with the teeny camera you gave me, attached it to my sunglasses and took it," producing a photograph of Harry, eyes bulging and a shocked look on his face.
Draco burst out into fits of laughter, "The Daily Prophet would have a field day if they got hold of this picture. I could just see it, in big, bold letters across the front page: The-Boy-Who-Lived Dumped by Mudblood! And a caption below the picture saying: A shocked look on poor Potter's face."
I cringed at the word 'Mudblood'. I still wasn't accustomed to being called such a name. Draco seemed to notice and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Oh, Mai, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," remorse was clear in his voice.
"It's fine, Draco. It was just a slip of the tongue. I'm alright," he gave me a look of scepticism but accepted my answer with another mutter of 'sorry'.
Draco's POV
I felt so bad. I knew how much that word upset her, yet I didn't watch my tongue. The silence between us was thick and awkward. I didn't know what to say. I took out a piece of parchment and scribbled a note on it with a muggle contraption called a Pen, which Hermione had given me for my birthday. I passed it to her gingerly and she unfolded it.
As she read my note, I examined her. Her eyes were like pools of liquid chocolate with specks of golden honeycomb. She didn't have totally flawless skin, which I admired about her. She was never obsessed with her looks, and wouldn't fuss about an outbreak of pimples during that time of the month. Her lips were full and cushy, a light shade of red.
Her once-bushy dark brown hair was now slightly wavy. In classes and corridors, she kept her tresses plaited but in the comfort of the Head's rooms, she'd keep her waist length locks hanging loose, allowing them to sway as she walked about. The innocent caramel brown was now a mature shade of auburn, matching her features perfectly.
My eyes trailed to the fingers clutching the yellowed parchment, they weren't long and elegant like Pansy Parkinson's, but quite short. Her hands were small, and her clear varnish-coated fingernails were not smooth-edged but with ridges, a sign of her constant nail-biting.
She placed the parchment beside her and smiled widely, then stood up and announced she would be going out for some fresh air. Just as she stood up, the train gave a sudden jerk and she landed right on top of me.
My heart did a few flips, I had never felt that way before, was the feeling what I thought it was?
Hermione's POV
My heart did a few flips, I had never felt that way before, was the feeling what I thought it was? I'd never experienced such a feeling, not even when I was with Harry. His icy blue eyes stared up at me; he looked slightly afraid, maybe even nervous.
My eyes fluttered shut on their own accord and I leaned on him as if it was something natural. I lay my head on his chest, pressed my ear against it and sighed. I could hear his heart racing.
I could feel his eyes on me, watching me intently. Those deep icy-blue eyes of his, always calm, like a pool of clear azure water. His blonde eyebrows pencil thin and perfectly shaped, even though they weren't plucked. His skin wasn't flawless, and he had a few acne scars on his forehead. He had perfect lips, though always pressed into a thin smirk. Pity he hardly smiled. His lips concealed his pearly white teeth that weren't perfectly straight.
His slicked-back platinum blonde hair was now hanging loosely, framing his face, giving him a laidback look. His fingers were long and slim; his fingernails buffed nicely, always looking perfectly manicured.
I had his face perfectly imprinted in my mind, his hands etched onto my thought-space permanently. I had an exact picture of him stuck in my head, but why?
Draco's POV
I always thought about her, she was always on my priorities list. She was my best friend. She was always on my mind. I was sure of that. The only thing I couldn't understand, was why?
Author's POV
Hermione lay on Draco's chest, listening to his lifeline thumping steadily. Draco watched her attentively, registering her every move. They felt the same thing. They both knew what they felt, but they didn't know why.
Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at Draco, grinning at him. He pulled his lips into a thin smile, the first real smile Hermione had ever seen on him, as if it was a painful thing to do.
As the Hogwarts Express jerked to a stop, Hermione frowned, a tear slipping from her dark brown orbs. She knew she wouldn't be able to see him even though his father was locked up in a prison cell on a faraway island, his mother was still not very fond of Muggleborns.
He looked at her with concerned in his eyes, and hugged her tightly, neither said anything, no words were exchanged. He stood up and helped her up, leaving the light baggage to her while he took the burden of the heavier ones.
They stepped off the train, the last time they would ride it. No words were exchanged as they walked away from each other, to the warm welcome-back hugs from their parents. What they didn't know was neither wanted a welcome- back hug, they didn't know the thing they needed to comfort them both was a hug - one that was shared between them, a Pureblood Malfoy and a Muggleborn Granger.
1 Month Later
Professor Hermione Granger sighed as she boarded the shiny red train for the umpteenth time. She was happy to be going back to her alma mater but she wished there were someone waiting for her there, the person that had been the only thing that flooded her thoughts throughout the hot, humid summer.
She walked slowly into the professors' compartment and gasped as she saw a tall blonde man sitting on a bench, a pair of wire-framed spectacles perched atop his nose bridge. He looked up, startled at her sudden drawn in breath. He grinned widely; she knew that he had been practising.
She wrapped her arms around her best friend, Draco, into a hug, one more intimate than those usually shared between friends with platonic relationships. She sighed contentedly as they both relaxed, still holding each other.
He smiled into her hair, inhaling the buttery coconut scent of her shampoo.
They cuddled as they waited for the train to start, neither caring about the stares they got from the other professors that streamed in.
A piece of yellowed parchment fell from a certain professor's pocket, who was currently engaged in liplock. It read:
I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I have flaws, just like you do, but you know I love imperfections, right?
These words played in both their minds:
I have flaws, just like you, but they disappear when I hold you, when nothing matters anymore, nothing except the both of us.
A/N: Ok, that was sappy and crappy. I had to delete Fuego 'cos it wasn't going anywhere. I hope you liked that. R/R!