A new day. Draco sat up in bed, elegantly stretching and yawning whilst doing so. He rubbed his eyes with his left hand, using the other to slide apart his green silk curtains, with the silver stitching he had grown to love. Another day at Hogwarts. Was it the weekend? No. His heart sank as he remembered; today was double potions with the Gryffindors. Two hours in the same room as Hermione Granger. The girl that he cursed as a Mudblood, whilst being secretly fascinated by the creature.
Lost in time, I can't count the words
I said when I thought they went unheard
All of those harsh thoughts so unkind
'cos I wanted you
Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the school in Gryffindor tower, the girl in his thoughts was waking. Less daintily, she rolled over and snuck a hand out of the drapes, reaching… reaching… Got it!
Hermione retreated to her den of a bed once more, clutching the short wooden stick that she owed her life to, as well as her appearance. 'Accio water glass,' she muttered croakily as her ruby-encrusted cup flew through the gap in the curtains, almost drenching her. Sipping her drink she felt a little more awake. Using her wand to call for her clothes, she dressed and emerged at last, to greet the day. Her modesty was totally unnecessary, as the dorm room was empty. She sighed and yawned, sitting back down onto the bed, reaching for her timetable.
'Urgh,' she groaned, disgusted at what she saw. Double potions with the Slytherins. Two hours of maintaining calm between her best friends and the teacher; trying not to be distracted by the fallen angel in the front row. Draco Malfoy had been the object of her distasteful affections since their first year, carefully suppressed, and definitely against her better judgement.
She swallowed back the lump rising in her throat as she thought of his abusive nature; her dry cough ringing dully in the silent, empty dormitory.
And now I sit here I'm all alone
So here sits a bloody mess, tears fly home
A circle of angels, deep in war
'cos I wanted you.
Descending on the breakfast table in a magnificent sweeping gesture, Draco felt the eyes of many watching him. Looking past the unpleasant figure of Vincent Crabbe, he noticed several first year girls at the end of the table giggle and nudge each other excitedly.
Rolling his eyes and sighing painfully, he turned his attention back to breakfast, busying himself with the large jug of pumpkin juice in front of him. Looking up, his eyes met briefly with Hermione Granger's as she passed through the doors from the Entrance Hall. He felt his stomach lurch as he noticed her intimidating escorts, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, walking calmly either side of her.
Weak as I am, no tears for you.
Hermione located him the instant she walked into the room, as she had done every day for years, ignoring her friends' comments about the weather and Quidditch conditions. A spark rushed through her body as if she was hit by lightning when she glanced into those cold grey eyes. She noticed his gaze flick to the figures on either side of her, before retreating to the goblet he sipped from.
She found herself fascinated by the way his hair gently slid down, covering his eyes; concealing them from her view. It was only when Harry's owl, Hedwig, swooped towards them that made her physically jump, and snap out of her temporary coma. For just that moment, he was her whole world.
Weak as I am, no tears for you.
'I'm a Slytherin,' he thought crossly, as he rose to return towards the dungeons. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he turned left, then right, tracing the familiar path towards Snape's classroom.
'Gryffindors and Slytherins do NOT get on,' he told himself firmly, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder as he slipped behind a bookcase; his usual shortcut. 'I want what I cannot have; so have her I will not!'
Deep as I am, I'm no one's fool
Weak as I am.
Hermione wandered along in silence between her bickering best friends, completely unaware of the discussion at hand.
'No Harry, I don't care what you say, it's not a good idea to encourage him!'
'But Hagrid would love it, you know how down he's been…'
'This is assuming Charlie can find him!'
'Oh, he'll have kept track of him! What do you think Hermione?'
'Hmm? Oh!' Hermione snapped out of a trance for the second time that morning, again she had been thinking about Draco Malfoy.
'Were you even listening?' Ron eyed her suspiciously, as Harry obliviously continued in his stream of thought.
'As I was saying, I think seeing Norbert is just what Hagrid nee-'
'Ssh!' Ron cut him short as Malfoy himself came into view, leaning against the door frame casually.
'Potty, Weasel… Granger.' He paused at the last name, giving her a slightly larger nod than her friends.
Hermione felt as if she was floating. Totally unaware of the evil glares that her friends were shooting at Malfoy, her heart floated as she watched him run his fingers through his gorgeous platinum hair. 'But there is no way he'd be interested in me,' she thought miserably, blinking hard and turning her attention to the floor.
So what am I now? I'm love last home
I'm all of those soft words I once owned.
Draco felt very conscious of his adam's apple in his throat as he heard familiar voices wafting down the cold, dark corridor. He was convinced that he heard three sets of footsteps, not two. Oh please let her be with them…
She rounded the corner and the three stopped dead. Draco was suddenly aware that he was completely alone in a remote place with people who despised him. 'Please let her not hate me,' he thought desperately, as he greeted them all indifferently and looked away. Running his fingers through his hair, he was aware of a pair of eyes burning into him.
He looked up towards them, just as Hermione looked to the floor. Before he could comment, the class noisily arrived and the potions master swept them all into the classroom, as if he could not bear to see them in the corridor a moment longer. Draco followed the retreating back of the girl he so admired until their paths separated; then he could look no more.
If I opened my heart, there'd be no space for air,
'cos I wanted you.
Safely at the back of the classroom, Hermione fazed out of the potion master's words to watch the platinum hair change colour in the dancing candlelight.
Suddenly aware that the class were moving, she absent-mindedly lit her cauldron with her wand. As Pansy Parkinson leaned in to talk to Draco, touching his arm and giggling, she felt envious rage billow inside her, then relax into sorrow of the unobtainable.
Weak as I am, no tears for you.
Draco felt himself shudder slightly as Pansy grabbed his arm and snorted with laughter into his face. Firing crude, sarcastic comments at her encouraged her retreat, and he stole a glimpse towards the back of the room. Hermione's eyes were focused on the tube from which she was pouring luminous pink liquid into a beaker; biting her bottom lip with concentration. She turned to Harry, then laughing, helped him un-steam his glasses. How Draco's heart burned for unrequited love.
Weak as I am, no tears for you.
Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Hermione glanced at Draco one last time before leaving the classroom for the sunlight and fresh air of the courtyard. Dean was, yet again, trying to explain the rules of football to Ron, as Harry and Seamus argued with Neville about Quidditch. In the distance she could hear the ringing laughter of Parvarti and Lavender as they gossiped happily. 'Like hens in a yard,' thought Hermione, in a half-hearted way.
There had to be more than this; and she knew who she felt was on her wavelength.
Deep as I am, I'm no one's fool
Weak as I am.
He wanted to block out the sun, retreat into a cold, dark corner and let night soothe his burning rage. Placing his palm across his forehead as he followed his class through the Entrance Hall, he discovered that there was no fever, and was also convinced that his face was not flushed in the way that had been concerning him for the majority of the last two hours.
He leaned back against the castle wall in the shade, breathing out deeply and closing his eyes. If only he could get her out of his mind…
A familiar laugh made him jump and open his eyes. Quickly scanning the castle grounds with his seeker-trained eyes, he located the source of the noise. Hermione was laughing as she helped Ron disentangle himself from his robes, as Neville Longbottom apologised unhappily, gesturing with his wand, until red sparks shot out of the end, alighting the grass.
Draco continued to watch the group as Harry stamped on the turquoise flames, then went to Hermione's assistance whilst Ron continued to wriggle, attempting to be free. They were who Hermione needed; he had done too much damage, hurt too many people…
In this tainted soul
In this weak young heart
Am I too much for you?
As she climbed the marble staircase for Transfiguration, Hermione's thoughts wandered back to the lonely figure in the darkness of the shadows. She had seen him of course. Embarrassment had surged through her body as she unsuccessfully tried to help Ron when Neville's disarming spell went wrong. She was so pathetic – he had been watching the group eagerly, a sort of thirst in those grey eyes that she dreamed about. In her dreams those eyes were never cold, malicious or tired. They just sparkled with joy as he would smile at her… But she could never get that close to him, being a Gryffindor… and of course it was muggle blood that her heart pumped through her veins; he'd never accept that.
In this tainted soul
In this weak young heart
Am I too much for you?
Unenthusiastically flicking his wand at the teacup in front of him, Draco's eyes covered the charms room as his brain overflowed with information. This teacup would never dance. Usually the best in his class, Draco's heart was not in the work today. The pressure being exerted on him was from all directions: his friends were becoming bored of his quiet nature, his parents pressured him to 'keep pride in the family blood', and Hermione… He felt like he had been plunged in warm water. He did not care for blood, he cared for her – something that his father may disown him for.
'I'm not brave enough.' The words swarmed in his head, bringing him images of the daring Harry Potter fighting dragons and Dementors alike, his father duelling and strangely, of Albus Dumbledore. 'I can't stand up to my father, and Hermione can never accept me the way I am,' he thought sadly, waving his wand so that the teacup drunkenly lurched, before exploding into dust.
In this tainted soul
In this weak young heart
Am I too much for you?
It was lunch time again. Pointedly sitting between Seamus and Harry so that their Quidditch argument could be laid to rest, Hermione felt disappointed at a missed presence on the Slytherin table. Her stomach lurched as she perceived Pansy Parkinson similarly scanning the Hall. Their eyes met briefly for a second, burning with hatred, then Pansy's expression turned to joy as she looked over Hermione's shoulder. Struggling not to turn around, Hermione stabbed her potato a little harder than normal and stared at her plate, blinking hard.
Weak as I am,
Weak as I am.
Entering the Great Hall for lunch, Draco found Hermione right in front of him, staring towards the Slytherin table. Following her gaze, he felt his heart sink as Pansy waved at him, grinning like a pig in mud. With one last, lingering look at Hermione, who was now massacring her meat, he strode over to the Slytherin table, sitting opposite Pansy, firmly out of arm's reach.
But this meant that he couldn't see Hermione either. 'Damn,' he muttered, angrily knocking over the gravy boat (though gleefully seeing Pansy covered in the hot, sticky liquid with a scream).
Weak as I am,
Weak as I am, am, am.
Hermione climbed the marble staircase once again as she headed for her charms lesson. She picked up a teacup out of the box by the door, and sat at her usual place.
Professor Flitwick came in looking irritable, clutching another teacup in one hand, his wand in the other. 'Right,' he squeaked from his pile of books behind the desk, 'who doesn't have one?'
Ron slowly raised his hand looking slightly puzzled, as Flitwick muttered 'locomotor cup,' and it floated silently into Ron's outstretched hand. Flitwick sighed and looked up from his register, 'I'm sorry to be snappy, class. I just hate it when things get destroyed. Mr Malfoy took it upon himself to blow to dust a teacup from my last full set.' He paused reflectively, then continued, 'I would have repaired it you understand, had the windows not been open… Still ifs and buts are no use to us! Let us make these teacups dance!' He finished cheerfully, as the class quickly set to work.
'Idiot,' muttered Ron as his cup grew stubby legs and tottered dangerously across the desk. 'Fancy destroying things, just because you can.'
Hermione did not reply, but poked at her cup with her wand, making it pirouette and then leap over Harry's lopsided attempt. 'I wonder if he's alright,' she thought worriedly, 'maybe he has a lot on his mind.'
'Accio cup!' she said shrilly, as the dancing cup made to vault onto the next table (some two feet away).
'I'm not thinking about him any more,' she told herself sternly, removing the legs from her cup. 'Its distracting and completely unrealistic!'
Weak am I am
Am I too much for you?
Weak as I am
Am I too much for you?
Thanks to an astronomy class that evening, Draco had the afternoon to relax and get some of his mounting pile of homework done. Lying under one of the great oak trees by the lake, he started on his two-foot essay set by Snape.
Scratching his nose, he read back what he had already written: 'Veritaserum is the strongest truth potion commonly known to the wizarding community. It is also one of the most difficult to make, taking a whole moon cycle to mature.' Quite a good start, if he said so himself.
He continued to write with smooth, neat strokes until he had reached two and a half feet of writing. 'That wasn't so bad,' he said to himself, as he rolled up his parchment and stored it in his bag. Only his favourite subject could distract him from the huge weight and quantity on his tired mind, which sure enough, was emerging back into his consciousness.
Rolling over onto his back, and propping his head on his bag, he could see the charms classroom clearly. Through the open window, he could see Hermione Granger, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration as her eyes darted back and forth across the desk. A smash issued from elsewhere in the classroom, confirming that they were doing teacup dancing as well.
He remembered his lost temper in the classroom, as well as the odd looks he'd received, and flushed deeply. He'd let her get into his brain again; the one that could never love him, that he would always adore.
Weak as I am
Am I too much for you?
That night at dinner, the house tables fell silent as Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat. 'The end of another day…' Drifting out of his speech, Hermione's eyes traced the familiar shape of the room in the dimmed lighting to find the Slytherin table. They sought the boy with platinum hair… Yes, he was there. He was also staring at her. When her eyes met his, he did not look away.
Draco watched her eyes fly along his house table, then rest on his. His stomach lifted to his throat, and he smiled, caught off guard.
'He smiled at me!' Hermione saw that his eyes were no longer cold, but that they sparkled, like in her dreams, from his smile.
The two students from different houses connected together, oblivious to the rest of the room, for, as far as they were concerned, they were the whole world.
Weak as I am.
Hope you all liked it! I'll take this opportunity to apologise to those reading 'Behind the Spotlight', for not having updated. A feeble excuse I know, but I was doing lots of exams, and I also may have lost much of my existing work as a disk has gone strange… I'm waiting for news on that before I update anything I've written towards it, so just be patient a little longer!
DISCLAIMER: As much as I would love to own all of this, sadly I do not. 'Weak' belongs to Skunk Anansie, and Hermione, Draco, Harry etc belong to J.K. Rowling. I merely put the two together in my own interpretation of things. Please R&R!!