Demolished Love

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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just the plot, and my typed/written words.

Summary: The third installment in the Bad Girl series (perhaps the last). Hermione Granger is intelligent, successful, and has a well paid job. So does she throw that all away on Draco Malfoy? Hell yeah! Wouldn't you? Sequel to Corrupted Revenge.

A/N: Wow best summary I ever wrote *beams*

A/N: Hermione is eighteen in this fic.

A/N: Unless your a boy...

A/N: I OWN Hermione's bad side...as in "Her."

Dear Pink Diary Which I Used To Use In Fifth Year And Became A Part Time Stripper For Once,

Play the soundtrack theme, please. Dr. Laura's back from vacation and she's become a man. She came back looking like a cross between Michael Jackson and a hippie with an Afro...which are kind of the same things, really. Okay, I can hardly concentrate whenever I am in her office because of this "slight distraction". But I did have fun with her the week before Christmas. Mom set up an appointment after work without me knowing then just 'casually' owled me about it, so I stole some extra truth potion and took it with me in a vial. When I got to her office, I was lucky enough to pour it into her coffee when she wasn't looking. The following convo is based on what I asked her when she took a sip:

Me: (testing, of course...I was always the most impeccable smart ass): What the hell is your name? Full name? I mean, seriously, Dr. Laura, what the fuck is that about? Laura as a last name?

Dr. Laura (looking dull and useless as usual, and very boyish - literally.): Quimbius Shitty Laura.

Me: (laughing my ass off): Oh, my God, no wonder you prefer Dr. Laura instead of something else. Okay...hmmm, have you ever had sex with animals?

Dr. Laura: Do pigeons count?

Me: Yes, yes they count very much...

Argh, someone's ringing me (as in ringing my doorbell, you small dumbass diary). Alright, Pinkie, I am going to close you now. Hey, I had to name you somehow. Just be glad your middle name isn't 'Shitty'.

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Ring, Ring.

"I am coming!" I yell in a fashionly manner, as I see in Gilmore Girls (GG) all the time. What the visitor doesn't know, however, that I mutter, "Mother fucker," afterwards. I swing the door open, and almost collapse. I mean, seriously. It's snowing outside and a bigass snowball just went on my forehead, but that's not why I want to collapse. Why I want to collapse is because Draco. Fucking. Malfoy. Is at my fucking doorstep, looking extremely sexy. I mean, this sexy you can never, ever imagine, and if you do, you'll melt into the floor tiles. In other words, "He is soooooooo cute!!!"

He looks startled as well.

Wearing a black cloak and an old Slytherin scarf is enough for me. Literally, my jaw is on the floor. Well not literally. Metaphorically speaking, of course...I mean, my mouth is open but it's impossible to have my jaw on the floor since I am on higher quarters.

Oh shut the fuck up, She barked.

You shut the fuck up, I bark back.

Why are we barking? She barks.

I don't know. Shut up, I have to concentrate on Draco. And how dreamy he looks.

Take him outside and fuck him right there in the snow, She suggests logically.

Are you fucking crazy? I ask.

Of course. I am you. Now stop talking to your damn self. And after you guys fuck, kill whoever threw the bigass snowball, because that SHIT HURT! She whines.

"Oh shut up about the snowball!" I say aloud.

"Err...what?" Draco says, backing a bit away into the snow. I look up, flustered.

"Nothing, snowball," I say quickly. "What're you doing here, Malfoy? I don't need your apology after two years, you know."

"I am not here to apologize," he retorted snappishly. "I was apparating, and I had splinching difficulties and my wand's not working at all. I didn't know this was your house. I merely wanted to use the - what do you call it, phone."

"Not with that tone you're not," I say playfully, coyly trying to lean against the doorframe, unfortunately, the snowball has melted on the floor, so I slip on it.

And fall in his arms before I slide off his arms and into the floor, my face buried in the water.

Snowball, you bitch.

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"The phone's over there," I said, motioning my hand over to the phone.

"Okay. You sure your hip isn't broken?"

Yeah, of course it is. But just looking at you makes it all better....

"No, no, I am sure."

I watch as he turns around, looking at his back very appreciatively... Leaning back in the couch, I suddenly realize that in about fifteen minutes, I have to go to work.

So what to choose? My high-paying, successful gloating job as a Healer, or staring at Draco Malfoy's cute little ass? I'll pick the second choice, of course.

He comes out of the living room.

"Did you make your little call?" I asked.

He nodded. "Thanks. I'll be leaving then."

My heart skips. "No, don't leave yet! I think...I think I am dying."

Oh, that's great, girl, he'll fall for that, She prompted sarcastically in my head.

"Dying?" he echoed. "From what?"

"From...the snowball," I stammered.

What the fuck! She yells.

"From the highly dangerous snowball?" Draco looks highly amused.

"Y-yes," I stutter. I am feeling a bit drowsy...a bit...my stomach lurches and I throw up right on the floor.

Ah, such a very pleasant day.

==============

Alright, so I had the flu. And didn't know it. How is that my problem? Other than that, everything is going to plan. After all, Draco Malfoy beside my bed trying to conjure up some medicine is exactly what I hoped for.

No, seriously.

Right.

"Damnit Granger, you haven't changed have you?" he asks in disgust. I glare at him underneath the covers.

"What is that supposed to mean, Malfoy?"

"Well...for starters, look at this." Draco holds up my pink diary from the dressing table, and I quickly snatched it out of his hands.

"So? I write in a diary. Who cares?"

"You're still writing in a diary? Aren't you grown up, yet, Granger? You've already been promoted to head of the 'Misuse of Magic' team, why waste your thoughts on this?"

"None of your business, Malfoy. Besides, I happen to recall a time where you found my diary particulary interesting," I say, smiling slyly at him.

"And I happen to remember a time where I tricked you and didn't give the diary back."

"But I got it back, didn't I?" I say. "Remember? I snuck into your room when you were sleeping and got it afterwards in my sixth year."

"Yeah, until the alarm broke off and everyone in my dorm found you in your knickers, with a pink, fluffy little diary in your hands," Draco scoffs. I narrow my eyes. I remember that too, and it still brings a blush creeping to my cheeks.

"Ah yes, the infamous diary stealing. Of course, when the alarm went off in the diary, I set a spell to disconjure it and ran off," I notify him. "I never did get to tell you how clever it was to put an alarm on the diary."

"Thank you. And very clever for the disconjuration."

"Thank you as well," I say, coughing a bit.

"You need something to drink?" he asks, raising a swift eyebrow.

"Maybe some...orange juice?"

"Orange juice?" he echoes doubtfully.

"That's easy enough for me to drink...unless you want to take off your cloak, go to the Chinese store and get me some noodle soup?"

"Take off my robes?" The raise of his eyebrow again.

I smirk. "Well..."

"I would kiss you Granger, but I think my head is still preoccupied that a snowball attacked you, and your mouth filled with vomit less than an hour ago," he confirma. I mock pout.

"Well, if I clean up, will you take off your cloak and kiss me?"

"Perhaps," Draco answers casually. With all the strength I can muster, I tug at his collar, unbuttoning the securities of his shirt.

But before I can go any further, I am overcome with this huge weakness that makes me fall backward.

"Granger?"

"I am...fine," I gasped. And then some Twilight Zone eposoides flash back into my mind before I am hit with darkness...either that or Draco covered me with his cloak or something.

===================

Fluttering my eyes open into vision, I feel the odd sensation that someone is watching me...and someone is watching me. Draco has a bowl in his posession, looking at me.

"So you're awake," he says. I observe the bowl. It's steaming with something hot that I can't make out with my currently blurriness.

"Noodle soup," he explains.

I groan as a headache comes on, and so does a sneeze. I sneeze right in his face. He wrinkles his nose.

"Gross," he said, handing me the bowl. I take it gratefully, sipping it without even a spoon.

"Okay, I'll be leaving now," he said, getting up. I look up.

"No, don't," I protest. "What if something happens to me?"

"Oh, alright," he says in this tender voice. He gently prods my forehead with a washcloth before I fall back into peaceful slumber.

=====================

When I wake up, I ee him lying next to me, and began observing him. His eyes are closed, his cloak his off, so he's only wearing a thin, white shirt and regular jeans underneath. His angelic face shines out. He's taller than I've seen before, but his features are mostly the same. I smiled timidly, dazed. It must be the flu.

He opens his eyes and I scream, startled, knocking something in the middle of us over. It was the bowl of noodle soup. The remaining contents washed over his face and he looked at me, gaping.

"Granger!" he growled.

"Sorry!" I apologize meekly. "I didn't...let me wash it off." I took the washcloth that had fallen onto my bosom and started cleaning his face off, as well as his neck. I notice his shirt was drenched as well, so I unbutton it, admiring his slender figure.

When I look up I see him watching me. His gray eyes look at me, but they were unreadable.

"You remember fifth year?"

"Of course," I whisper before I can stop myself. "How can I forget?"

He looks at me.

"I mean...how can I? It's the year Harry's godfather died, the year Ginny started going out with Michael Corner and started seeing Harry behind his back...and the year that you and I..." I pause as he interrupts me a bit, placing his lips on mine. I can still feel the tingling that spreads throughout my lips as he does this, I can feel the burning knives that plunge through me where his hands are placed on my shoulders. He moves forward, pressing his whole body against mine. I am shivering, shuddering at the same time. I am unwashed, and my mouth probably won't taste too good right now. But he still continues to kiss me. I pull away, flushing.

"I...am going to clean up," I say hastily. He nods, and I leap from the bed and into the bathroom. Luckily, my wand is still safely intact in the cabinet where I always keep it. I point it toward my stomach.

"Prio Incantatem," I whisper. A flicker of white and blue light sparks out, and I know the job is done. Not wanting to seem lazy, I put the wand away and wash my mouth with water and toothpaste, making sure everything is clean and ready. I brush my hair, distangle my clothes a bit, and wash my face before I put cream on. I don't know exactly why I am even bothering looking nice for him this time. It just feels as if we've been dating for a long, long time, even though we've never even dated in this lifetime. It just feels inaccurate not to do this...

When I come out, he's sitting in the bed, waiting for me. I tenderly take the bowl and washcloth off and throw it on the floor, crawling up to the bed. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around my waist and I feel like I am drowning in reverse as he touches me. Every time his touch reaches me, it seems to linger on my skin forever, like a burning flash going through my whole body. I can't really describe it, but it's there. My heartbeat races as he pulls off my shirt. This causes a very familiar deja vu, of course. I can hardly breath as he takes off my bra, carefully with ease.

I remember in fifth year it seemed as if he was inexperienced, a bit. He's not anymore. I throw my head back, letting my brown curls caress my shoulders. It's a wonderful feeling as he fondles my breasts, letting his tongue glide over both of them, giving both of them special attention. The noises that come out of my mouth makes me blush. I am embarrassed.

Hey, evil girl, you there? I wonder.

I am here, She says. Nice job seducing him with your sickness, by the way.

Should I...I ask.

No shit. Of course you should, you put that protective spell on you didn't you? She asks.

Yes, but that doesn't mean...I was just making sure...I insist.

Come on, you've never done it with him before, go for it.

But... She's gone. She is silent. I close my eyes, feeling him pull down my pants. The soft fabric splashes over my legs and onto my feet and soaves away from my toes. He frantically tries to pull down my last remaining garment, but I stop him. I don't know why - but this guilty feeling comes over me. Suddenly I am confused, heated, hurt, and flattered all at the same time.

"No," I whisper. "First tell me why we should do this."

I mean, what kind of crap is that, anyways? It's something that a virgin could say. I am sure not any virgin. I slept around tons of times, meaningless sex practically is what my world used to revolve around. And yet...

"Because..." he kisses me gently. He's never kissed me like that before. It's not rushed, not desperate. It's gentle. He brushes his lips against mine and I keep my eyes tightly closed; if this is a dream I certainly don't want to wake up. He seems to be savoring my taste as his tongue dips across the parting of my mouth, exploring it slightly. He parts away after one final kiss at the jaw. The gentle kiss leaves a chilling bruise on my lips. I feel pain in my lips, even though he's hardly touched them.

"That's not a very good reason," I say stubbornly, opening my eyes, a gasp caught in my throat. I feel like crying. I've never had that kind of caring, sweet kiss from anybody.

"Well...how about this? I really like you."

"You what? Are you serious?" Laughing and crying, that's what I want to do.

"Yeah...I mean, you're," he motions his hand, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "You're...crazy."

"Crazy!" I repeat in a exclamation. "That's why you like me?"

Draco's lips turn slightly. "Look, I am not really good with this 'feeling' stuff..."

"Too bad...I want to hear about this 'crazy business'."

He sighs, his hands still at my wrists. They feel good there.

"Well...you're different. I used to think you were just a mud- I mean, muggleborn," he changes the word when he sees the outraged look on my face. "But then ...you know, you were the only one to defeat me..."

"Defeat you?"

"Yeah...like make a fool of me. It pissed me off. Hardly anyone pisses me off except Potter." He grins.

"So you like me because I piss you off, make a fool of you, and I am insane?"

"Yup."

"Alright, great," I say happily, tilting my head to kiss him again when he puts a hand on my chin to stop me.

"Not so fast," Draco says. "Why do you want to do this?"

"You're spiteful," I say, smiling a bit. "That's what I lo- like about you." Hoping he didn't catch the word mishap, I try to look thoughtful. "Ummm...you're spiteful, evil, bad, Ummm...you're good at Potions, that used to impress me a bit, even though I never ever admitted it to anybody...Ummm...that's it, I guess."

"So you like me because I am evil, spiteful and good at Potions?"

"Yup."

"Alright, great," he says jovially, and kisses me once more.

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Yes, yes, before all of you complain, we did sleep together. But I am leaving you out of the details, you sick pervs, you! Humph! Going into my personal business! You guys are sick! I love it. Anyways, you guys know that I always learn a very, very important lesson in life in the end of all my diaries.

And I did.

I learned the most important of all.

Love is a thing to cherish forever - oh fuck that, I learned that if anybody throws a snowball at you, kick their ass.

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Argh. Sorry about the weirdest installment

(definitely not Rated R, I just put that rating because it would attract more attention to the people who actually read the two other prequels)

of the series of all. Not to fret, my dears, there may be more ahead. Except this seems like a happy ending. This was pretty stupid and cliche, so forgive me, but I liked writing it. I always love writing these diaries. And that's what matters - oh fuck that, give me some reviews!!!

...

Until the next diary;

lots of love,

-S.A.

the voice for

"She".