So, I was listening to Hate Me by Blue October and this thought popped into me head, hehe. I own no one, only the idea. So please read, review, and mostly; enjoy. PS, there are probably some minor grammatical errors, I apologize in advance.

Hate me today

Hate me tomorrow

Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

Draco pulled away from the girl in front of him; the one who had just leaned in to brush her lips against his. A shiver ran through his body, one that only she could bring unto him. One hand rested on the small of the brunette's back, rubbing small circles in the cotton of her t-shirt. The other hand lay on her thigh, thumb gently brushing back and forth. "Hermione." He stated quietly, breaking the comfortable silence that had surrounded them.

One thought thundered in the blond's mind, and it scared the hell out of him. His eyes flickered from Hermione to the Death Mark on his left arm, then back to the brunette in his lap. Deep in his mind, behind all fragments of hope and wishful thinking, he knew that they'd come after her first. It was going to shatter them, and he knew it. Regardless of what her opinion was on the matter, he knew that he would be at fault if anything were to happen to her. It'd be all because of him, and the curse inflicted upon his sixteen-year-old self. The war may have been over, but to the Death Eaters, she was still the enemy.

He didn't give a damn about what they thought, it was what they were going to do that scared him. They'd kill her, hurt her in ways one couldn't possibly imagine. She'd walk – or be dragged – into hell, never to return again; and that was one fate he couldn't bring to her. He didn't want to be the one that killed her, that brought her to death's doorstep and left her behind to be picked apart by vultures.

It was this, and this alone, that made him wish she'd start hating him again. Hate him so she'd go away, and leave him behind. Draco knew he'd have to break her heart to save her soul.

"Hmm?" She asked softly, kissing his neck. Draco turned his head away, incapable of meeting her gaze.

"Hate me." He replied in a whisper. "Please, hate me. Hate me today, tomorrow, forever...just hate me."

"Draco...what are you saying? What do you mean?" Hermione drew back to look at the blond. He shut his eyes, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"They'll kill you for loving me; you'll only be spared by hating me."

"The Death Eaters? Ever since Voldemort's fall..."

"They're picking each other apart, 'Mione." His left hand caressed her neck, "Looking for the ones who left, and killing those they care about, and those who care about them...I don't want you to get hurt..." He trailed off, seeing pinpricks of tears swell up in her eyes. "We can't be together anymore."

"What..."

He turned his head away, and thought for a moment. He needed her to hate him, and he knew exactly how to do that. "Go."

"Draco..."

It was almost like being in school again.

"Leave, you filthy, little...little..." He couldn't say the word, not anymore at least. Draco bit his lip. "Just leave, never call, and never speak to me again. Weasley's...he's good for you. Go to him. Do whatever it takes to leave me behind." The steeliness in his own voice frightened him; a haunting ghost from the past throwing memories in his head. Bowing his head, he felt a weight leave his lap, footsteps, then the slamming of a door. His tears fell, and his shoulders shook as he flickered a glance at the Death Mark adorning his arm.

The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won't touch again

Inhaling, he smelled the scent of her shampoo; the smell of her body on his clothes, in his bed, everywhere. The mistakes he had made were haunting him, cursing him for being a fool and laughing at him in his vulnerability. It was all because of hate.

There are three aspects of hate, this he knew. Strength, cowardice, and malice. All together, they formed the force that could tear lives apart, smother hopes into ash and kill. The Death Eaters, they hated the both of them. Him, for leaving and falling for a Muggle-born. Her, for being a Muggle-born.

"You can't hate yourself for what you used to be, Draco." Her soft voice wafted into his ears as she ran a hand through his hair. "Stop waging wars on yourself"

Her words ran on repeat in his memory. Draco stood and walked over to his balcony, her words shaking him as he went. His hands gripped the railing, eyes staring blankly into the night. In his mind, he still waged a war against himself; between what was right and what was a mistake. As he looked towards the ground, he took in a deep breath and hoped he was right; that she would be safe now if she hated him. And he could only hope she'd hate him.

Hate me today

Hate me tomorrow