Purgatio Mali

Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling. Unfortunately *sigh*

"Oppugno!"

He heard the shriek come from further down the corridor. After a moment, a flash of bushy brown hair hurried past his alcove as someone was shouting over the loud twittering of birds. Two seconds later, the Weasel ran by, followed by a murderous flock of little yellow birds, and the Pothead chasing after them, trying to get the tiny beasts to stop. Needless to say, he was failing. For a brief moment, a semblance of a smirk tugged at a corner of Draco's mouth. The moment passed too quickly.

It was quiet again. Well, as quiet as an old castle could be following a Quidditch match. Every now and then, the sounds of a loud and quite raucous party drifted to his small hiding place and he'd surmised he was somewhere near the lions' den. Not that it particularly bothered him. Little seemed to bother him nowadays.

Which was what he was trying to concentrate upon again now. He still hadn't made any progress on the cabinet and after the necklace fiasco he'd been reduced to hiding in the Room of Requirements. Well, at least until the Room got too suffocating. Snape wasn't easy to avoid, but he figured his Professor would not wander too close to the Gryffindor Tower.

A new sound tore him out of his reverie. It wasn't the party, though. As he was trying to figure out what it was, it repeated. And then again. Someone was sobbing nearby.

Draco's brow furrowed. So much for peace then, he thought furiously as he slid out of the alcove and started off down the corridor, intending to find a better spot. Just one step, though, and his unconventionally sluggish mind caught up to him. He knew who was sobbing up ahead. Well, isn't this perfect, he thought, an actual smirk appearing on his face. Tired, granted, but still a smirk. This would maybe take his mind off … stuff. Or so he hoped.

Making sure to stay as quiet as possible, he tiptoed towards the door on the far left behind which the broken sounds were coming from. He stopped just behind the slightly ajar door, and chanced a quick peek.

The girl was sitting on the ground, knees pulled up to her chest, her wild hair quivering with each sob that racked through her body. Draco felt his smirk widen as he went through all the possible reasons as to why the little Mudblood would be crying, and how exactly he could use this situation for his entertainment. And to think, just moments ago he had been wallowing in self-pity and thought nothing could save his day.

"Who's there?" came the sudden, slightly shaky question. Malfoy swore under his breath. Apparently he'd made some sound. Before he could even begin to think of some way to deal with the situation, though, the door slammed open. He flinched involuntarily and raised his eyes.

Hermione was pointing her wand straight at his chest. The scared look in her eyes immediately changed to disgust and fury as she saw who had been eavesdropping on her.

"What do you want, ferret?" she spat out angrily, quickly wiping any evidence of tears away with her sleeve.

Cornered, Draco did the only thing he'd always done. He drew himself up to his full length and slowly sauntered into the room, like he hadn't just been caught red-handed.

"Well, I was just minding my own business, trying to figure out the best way to punish those Gryffindor imbeciles for winning today, but I think your birds already did the trick," he drawled, thinking fast. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, her wand following his movements from across the room.

"So, what happened? The Weasel caught you and Pothead making out or something?"

"That's none of your business! What are you even doing up here? Shouldn't you be in your slimy cave with the rest of your little snakes?" came the quick retort.

Malfoy smirked again and slowly stalked towards her. He could see the uncertainty mixed with anger and slight fear in her eyes, even though her wand hand never once wavered. Oh, this is such a sweet moment, he thought to himself. The Gryffindor Princess, alone and distraught. It would be a small, but wonderful pleasure for him to spar with her tonight.

"Don't change the subject. Seeing as you are the one sobbing like a pathetic child here and not he, I would venture a guess and say you caught him snogging someo-"

He knew he'd hit the nail on the head with that wild guess as the chair exploded mere inches beside him. Shielding his head from the splinters with one hand he quickly drew his wand with the other and pointed it towards the small girl, all semblance of a smirk gone now. She'd actually tried to curse him.

"A bit off your game now, eh? Or did you mean to hit the chair?" he shot towards Granger, now taking a predatory stance rather than simply walking. The second spell he deflected with a glance of his wrist, showing her she was not the only one who had already learned the unspoken incantations of most spells they knew.

"Shut up! Why are you here?!" Hermione was visibly trying to calm herself down so she could find a crack in his defence.

"Why wouldn't I be? Seeing the famous Mudblood getting turned down by a Weasley is the best entertainment out there."

"You slimy git! You really think that old insult will get you anywhere?" She was still shaken, though, but if it was because of the Mudblood insult, or the other part there, he wasn't quite sure yet.

"You didn't deny me. So he did turn you down, didn't he?" Draco asked with barely masked glee. Another tiny flinch from her confirmed it.

Hermione's mouth quivered only the tiniest bit. "It's still none of your business! Now get out of here or-"

"Or what? You'll send birdies flying after me as well?" he laughed.

She tried to sneak past another spell. Merlin, she'd gotten quick. But he was the second best student, after all. He was just as quick, if maybe not quite as clean with his spells. The nearby window shattered.

"Is that the best you can come up with, Mudblood? Honestly, I still don't see how you are the best of our class, even Weasley can hex better than that."

The insult was poor, completely false, and they both knew it. Still, bringing up the Weasel seemed to infuriate her even more and that's all he needed to know.

"Itsy bitsy Weasley, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-"

"Stupefy!"

"Protego. Merlin, this is boring." He had now reached a dangerous distance to the girl before him. The distance, where, if he were to reach out, he could just touch one of her curls which were currently almost crackling with ire. She stared him squarely in the eye, chest heaving from her elevated breathing. Something small inside him questioned if he should continue. He pushed it aside.

"I can see why he would dump you. I mean, it doesn't matter if I look at it from far or from here – there just isn't much to see," he drawled slowly, immensely enjoying the stabbing look of hurt she sent him. Her hand, finally, started to shake. He reached out suddenly, snaking his free hand around her fist and quickly pointing her wand away from him.

Hermione gasped at his quick reflexes and tried to pry her hand free. His grip was like steel.

"Let me go, now."

"Or what?"

"Let me go!"

"What will you do?" he squeezed a little harder, eliciting a gasp of pain from the girl. Still, she wouldn't let go of the wand, so he reached over and pried the wooden stick out of her small fist. He was only a millisecond late.

Her free hand had flown up and smacked him across his jaw, hard. Not an open-handed slap, mind you. A right proper left hook. It left him slightly dazed, but still holding onto her strong. Depositing both their wands into his back pocket, he quickly grabbed her other hand lest she try hitting him again. It was already bruising up, and he knew his face would be turning blue as well. He let some of his anger show as he backed her up against the wall.

"You already got your shot at hitting me. Third year. That was your only chance. Don't ever try that again," he towered over her, a menacing look in his eyes.

"What do you want from me?" she stared back brazenly.

Nothing, really, just some amusement from this constant emptiness I keep feeling, would have been the proper answer. But for obvious reasons he couldn't answer her with that. Staring into her scared amber eyes he found himself thinking that what he'd said earlier on wasn't quite true. From this near, he found some quite interesting flecks of gold dancing in her -

Stop it! He shook his head slightly to get rid of the disturbing images that had started to crop up in his mind.

"What I want? Simply put, I want to see you in as much misery as possible. And this is already looking very amusing."

Granger's eyes filled with tears but stubbornly she tried to keep them from falling.

"Come now, Mudblood," he crooned almost lovingly. "Admit it. This is where you belong. Underneath me."

Her eyes widened, and she started to struggle against him. For some reason, her small wriggling body started affecting his own in ways that were too wrong to think about.

"Let go of me, you bastard! Is this some sick fantasy of yours? Get the Mudblood-" she spit out the word venomously, "cornered and then live out your twisted dreams?" She was still trying to break out of his grip but he was simply too strong.

Draco smirked, an evil glint in his stormy grey eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself. You're nothing but a pathetic, little child with dirty blood to me. No one would want anything to do with you, and thank Merlin for that. No need for your filthy offspring in the world."

At that she went still. Too still. He glanced down.

Days later he would still ask himself what had made him let go. At some point he finally guessed it was the empty look in her usually firey eyes that mirrored his own emptiness so perfectly. He'd let go of her hands as she just stood there, slightly stooped against the wall, only staring at him, or rather through him with that dead look. He'd turned to go, shaken, only to find himself propelled forward through the blast of a spell. Sprawled on the ground, he'd quickly spun around to see Granger stalk toward him, both wands pointed at him, still looking completely devoid of any emotion. Through the pounding in his head he missed the whispered incantation.

The world went blind, as if he'd blacked out. A sharp pain started in the middle of his brain and slowly spread outwards. He could still sense her coming to a halt just beside him.

"Maybe now you'll see."

A minute later, as he gained his sight again, the room was empty. His wand lay discarded at his side.