Will I Tell Her?

by cenagurl

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters, since J.K. Rowling's imagination has already claimed all these… sigh

The last rays of the setting sun spread over the horizon in a beautiful contrast of pink, orange, and indigo, casting a strangely tragic and entrancing glow at the Hogwarts grounds and castle.

I stare unblinkingly ahead as I stood alone at the edge of the lake, letting the icy water lap softly at my bare feet.

Tomorrow would be the day of judgment.

At last, I will find out who will win in this long, bloody war. Will it be Voldemort? Or Potter?

Even after the six years of pure loathing, name-calling, curse-giving moments Potter and I shared, I sincerely wish him luck in fighting the Dark Lord.

He would really need it.

Ironically, so do I.

Tomorrow I would fight for something I don't even fully understand and approve upon. To the death, as my father had told me countless times, I would fight for the Dark Lord's rightful place in this world.

To be king.

But I don't really give a damn about that.

I don't really care if I die or not in this stupid war.

All I wish for…

And pray for…

Is her safety.

I don't want her to die.

I wouldn't let her.

But would she let a blackguard like me, a son of a Death Eater, save her? I know she would rather lose her life like a hero than be alive because of a villain like me.

Not that I could blame her.

After all, I had treated her like scum these past six years, as she was someone I was taught to hate, to look on to as inferior.

But hate and superiority is a far cry from what I really feel for her.

I sometimes even think she's more superior than I am. Because she, unlike me, is brave, honest, intelligent and loyal.

I, on the other hand, am a coward, a liar, and a traitor. I'm too bloody scared to let my true feelings surface, instead covering them with barbs, insults, scathing comments. I have lied about too many things to mention, including my real opinion about this whole bullshit.

I don't want war.

I don't want anyone to die. Yes, I wouldn't wish that even on my worst enemy, which happens to be Potter.

And I most certainly don't want Voldemort to rule. He hates mudbloods, damn it, and I wouldn't want the only thing I really cared for to die, or worse, to suffer in that git's hands.

I'm a big traitor, aren't I?

But not really.

I may not be too crazy at the idea of the Dark Lord taking over, but I will help him, right?

So I'm not really a traitor. Just a traitor in the heart, letting duty and family beliefs take over what I really want.

Everything's just so damn confusing.

I was jolted out of my silent reverie when I felt a soft tap on my shoulder. I blinked, and saw that the sun had already set completely; the sky was now inky-black, and a smattering of stars hung overhead, along with the full moon.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here? It's almost time for the feast, and professor Dumbledore wants to see the Heads Boy and Girl,"

I turned slowly and found myself gazing into the wise mahogany eyes of Hermione Granger, who was glaring at me as usual.

But why, oh why, am I seeing something else besides loathing in those brown depths?

"Well, Malfoy, why aren't you hurrying up? Put on your shoes and I'll wait for you there," she snapped, walking over to a clearing and plopped down on the grassy earth as she put on her own shoes.

I trudged back to the land and listlessly put on my socks, then my school shoes. As I did this, I look thoughtfully at her, wondering if I should tell the truth tonight or never let her know at all.

I clumsily tied my shoelaces then stood up; she did too, and a sudden playful breeze swept her hair into a messy tangle. I could hear her muttering as she hastily fixed her hair, then turned to give me a frosty stare, as though what just happened was my fault.

"Let's get a move on, shall we?" she asked, then, without waiting for an answer, walked ahead, her head up like a queen.

I didn't move, just watched her retreating form, from the long glossy curls of chestnut hair to the swishing black robes around her small ankles.

Will I see her again?

Will she ever find out the truth behind my cruel treatment?

I was apparently caught up with the moment that I didn't realize that I had strode over to her and covered the space that came between us as I grabbed her arm to face me. A look of astonishment was on her face, and she was about to open her mouth to retort when I spoke.

"Damn you Granger," I growled at her in a harsh voice, my calm composure starting to crack. Her brows knitted together in confusion. "Malfoy, what the hell are---" she made a move to yank her arm from my grasp, but I was adamant. For once, I would like to tell the truth.

I'm so tired of all the deceit and lies around us.

"I'm leaving tomorrow, Granger," I told her in what was supposed to be an off-hand voice, but instead came out hoarse and shaky.

"Good," she spat out, looking at me with hate. "I hope I never see you again!" My heart gave a painful lurch, and my body grew cold all over. Hell, why do those simple words hurt like a thousand knives on my chest?

"Fine," I answered in what I prayed was a cold uncaring voice. I let her go, and a look of confusion crossed Hermione's face. I turn away from her and began to head back to the castle, my heart shattering to pieces with every step I take away from her.

I was such a fool to think for a moment that I could receive acceptance from her. I was a damn fool for even coming up to her. I shake my head, straighten my composure and walk into the entrance hall, immediately spotting my two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

"What time do we leave tomorrow?" Goyle asked nervously, perspiration beading his wide forehead. Like me, he would also be leaving in the morn to serve the Dark Lord.

Crabbe also awaited my answer, his fat face stark white. "Around five before dawn, I suppose," I drawled in a bleak voice. "Listen, you guys go ahead to the feast. The old codger Dumbledore wants to speak with me,"

Crabbe looked ready to wet his pants while Goyle gave a shudder. "Are we caught?" Goyle asked in a panic-filled voice. I would've found my friends' stupidities amusing if I were in a fine mood, but at the moment I was too pained to laugh.

"No, you buffoons. Dumbledore wants to speak with me because I'm Head Boy, and the mudblood Granger is going to be there too," I told them, and they gave identical sighs of relief.

I then turned to go to Dumbledore's office. As I entered, I saw him seated at his usual chair, while Hermione sat on a cushion chair across him, speaking in a soft whisper to the old headmaster.

He looked up from Hermione when I stepped inside, and Hermione positively jumped up, looking surprised. Dumbledore gave me a smile. "Do come here, Mr. Malfoy. Sit here beside Ms. Granger," he pointed to the cushion chair beside Hermione, and I sat, inwardly smiling when I felt her stiffen beside me.

"Ms. Granger just told me you would be leaving tomorrow, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore stated, and I turned to glare at the woman beside me. I looked back at Dumbledore and forced a nonchalant expression on my face.

"Funny that she found the need to mention that to you, headmaster," I said lightly. "I just meant that I would be leaving tomorrow for the southern part of Hogsmeade, because my mother asked me to check our lands there, which would only take me about three hours. I can go, can I?" I gave the headmaster my most innocent look, congratulating myself for the lie I just conceived.

I'm an expert in that field.

But Dumbledore seems to be an expert at detecting lies.

"You are not the only one leaving this school tomorrow to serve Voldemort, I presume, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said in his usual kind, understanding voice. "I know most of the Slytherins whose parents are the dark lord's followers would be leaving tomorrow at the crack of dawn,"

I gawk stupidly at him, wondering where the hell he got all those information. "I don't have the power to stop you, of course, as it appears to be your choices," the headmaster continued, his blue eyes piercing mine behind those ridiculous half-moon spectacles of his.

"However, Ms. Granger here came in my office, instead of talking about the latest Inter-House Unity plan I asked her to do, she immediately spoke about what you told her and assumed what it meant," I stole a sideway glance at the girl in question and saw that she was blushing furiously.

"Ms. Granger here seems to believe that you don't really want to leave, or else why would you tell her about it? Now, Mr. Malfoy, answer me honestly. Are you willing to serve Lord Voldemort tomorrow and fight for his beliefs?" Dumbledore asked gently.

I couldn't speak. I just stare numbly at my lap, my throat dry.

"You seem to be confused about something, Mr. Malfoy. Would you care to tell me about it?" the headmaster suggested. "Ms. Granger, me and this young man need a moment of privacy," Hermione immediately stood up, and even I surprised myself when I reached out and grabbed her hand.

She stares at me in surprise. "Sit down. Headmaster, I don't care if she hears what I have to say, I just want her to stay with me," I told Dumbledore, and he nodded. Hermione sat down hesitantly and removed her hand from mine.

"I don't want to come to Voldemort tomorrow," I said lifelessly, my hand unconsciously rubbing my temple. "But I have this feeling of duty. It doesn't matter whether I want to go or not, all that is important is that I fulfill the duty the Dark Lord wants me to do,"

Absently I rolled up the sleeve of my school robes and revealed to a calm Dumbledore and shocked Hermione, a newly embedded Dark Mark on my pale forearm. "It was just installed last Christmas break, when Voldemort himself came to Malfoy Manor for some stupid meeting with my father," I said in a careless voice.

I was shocked when I saw tears roll down Hermione's cheeks. Damn, why the hell is the mudblood crying!

"And besides," I continued, wrenching my gaze from the sobbing Hermione, "I don't care about my life anymore. If I die, then so be it. I… I just want one person to be safe," I finished in a lame voice, not seeming like the arrogant, polished, high and mighty Slytherin prince I was called.

"And who might this person be?" Dumbledore questioned. I give him my trademark grin. "It's really none of your business, headmaster," I told him, regaining some of my arrogant swagger. "Although I'm sure you would protect that person 'til the end,"

I could feel Hermione staring at me, but I didn't spare her a glance. "May I be excused now, Headmaster? It's almost time for the feast, and I'm damned hungry," I turn from him and begin to walk out, but his voice stopped me.

"Take care, Mr. Malfoy. When the war is over, I hope to see you again," Dumbledore said, and the last six years of hatred I felt for the old codger almost quickly faded away. I know he would take care of Hermione.

I head for the Great Hall, my mind in chaos. I didn't even push Pansy away when she clung to my arm, simpering, "I'm so excited for tomorrow, Draco, it'll be an adventure!"

"Yeah," I reply unfocusedly, letting her seat me at our usual place in the Slytherin table.

Crabbe and Goyle seemed to momentarily forget about tomorrow, as they were stuffing themselves with every food in sight. I curiously peeked at the Gryffindor table and saw that Hermione still wasn't there. Potty was talking to Weasel King's little sister, while the king himself was wolfing down his chicken in a rather disgusting manner.

I forced down some food on my throat, and drank some pumpkin juice as well. After I ate, I turned to Pansy and said, "I have to head back to the Heads' common room now," she gave me a pout. "Why, Draco? We don't have to do homework anymore, we'll be leaving!"

"I just have to answer a letter from my father okay?" I lied, standing up. "Okay. Tell uncle Lucius I said hi," Pansy said, giving me a forced smile. I immediately headed to my common room, where I can clear my head and tell myself over and over that I have to do what father asks me to do…

As I entered, I saw a lone figure by the fireplace, sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor. No need to ask who that was, as there are only two people allowed inside this room--- the heads boy and girl, which happens to be me and Granger.

"Hermione," I query in a soft voice, and her head whipped to my direction, her eyes cloudy with tears. "Why the bloody hell are you crying?" I ask, settling down beside her. "Going to miss me, are you?" I joked, and almost panicked when she buried her face in her hands and sobbed harder.

"Don't you dare joke about that, Malfoy," she mumbled behind her hands, her voice cracking.

"Why don't you, for once, just let me have my way tonight? I might die tomorrow and never again have the chance to annoy the hell out of you again," I said in a cheerful voice, and her hands fell limply from her face, revealing her tear-streaked face and bloodshot eyes.

I was surprised to feel her hand connect solidly with my cheek. "How could you jest about a thing like that, you idiot?" she yelled angrily as I clutched my cheek absently.

"I told you, Granger, I am not afraid to die. I don't care what happens to me anymore, and I think that death would be a better reward for me," I said, getting over my shock of her slap. "That way I would finally have… peace."

"You are so selfish, you know that?" Hermione said heatedly, standing up. "What about those who care for you? You don't care about leaving them, do you?"

I give her a cocky grin. "Too right you are, Granger. I don't care about leaving anyone. And in case you haven't noticed, nobody gives a bloody damn about me," I also stand, and notice for the first time how small she is. Her head barely reached my shoulder, and the way the light from the fireplace illuminated her face made her look terribly vulnerable.

How could I have let a small inferior mudblood move me like this?

"My father won't give a damn about me until I prove myself a worthy servant of Voldemort. My mother always spent her time looking the other direction when my father beats me senseless. My idiot of pals, Crabbe and Goyle, care nothing more than food to cram down their thick throats. Pansy… well, she's just a filthy little bitch,"

"Like I'm a filthy little mudblood?" she asked timidly, with a smile that lightened my mood slightly. I sigh, and cock my head to stare at the ceiling. "I don't care about blood status anymore, Granger," I told her in a barely audible voice. "Tomorrow I would fight only for duty, but certainly not for hatred to your kind, nor a school grudge against Potter,"

I heard Hermione give a low sob, but didn't dare look at her.

God knows what I might do.

I was robbed half my wits when she closed the space between us, and her head buried on my chest. I give a groan, silently cursing my traitorous body for feeling a surge of lust as she pressed her body closer to mine.

"Damn you, Granger, I don't need you pity!" I half-shouted, trying to shove her away. I was startled to see anger blazing in her eyes.

"Well, damn you too, Malfoy, I am so sick of you always pushing me away!" she yelled back, tears rolling down her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away and gave me a glare.

"You're the biggest idiot I ever met in Hogwarts, you know that?" she told me, her eyes sparkling with more tears that threatened to fall. "You're a bigger idiot than Ron, who was too thick to see how I felt!"

I raise a questioning brow at her. "What are you implying, Granger? Did I miss anything? Or did I have the wrong impression of the hatred you felt for me? Why? Was it love?" I ask in a voice that dripped with sarcasm.

Hermione's shoulders slumped down. "No, how can you expect it to blossom into love, Malfoy, when all you did to me and my friends was make life hell for us? But… it isn't hatred either."

"Then what the hell is it!"

For the first time in my life, I finally heard Hermione utter the words "I don't know," with a confused look in her eyes.

I had to sit down. I plopped ungracefully on the couch, while she remained standing, her back turned to me. "Elaborate," I muttered in a tired voice.

Silence.

"Please," I said bitingly, my tongue not used to the word.

I heard her sigh, and she began to speak in a monotonous voice. "I never hated you, Malfoy. Do you remember the first time we met?" she asked, and I nodded, recalling to full detail the incident.

flashback-

I had met her on the train, just right before she knew the existence of Potty and Weasel. She had been with Longbottom then, and they were looking for a lost toad. She entered my compartment, and asked in a stammering voice if I had seen a toad. I figured she was slightly frightened because of the two thugs that sat on either of my sides, gobbling their cauldron cakes and sloshing pumpkin juice in their mouth.

I shook my head, and she meekly stepped away, her bushy head bowed.

That was the only time I saw her look so submissive.

But I was never able to forget the swirling limpid depths of her mahogany eyes so before hopping off the train, I asked Pansy if she knew the girl.

"Why, yes, of course I know her! I saw her before we boarded the train, and guess who she was with? Muggles!" Pansy gave a high-pitched snicker. "Can you believe it? They've let yet another filthy mudblood in this stupid school!"

A cold feeling sank in my stomach, and at the tender age of eleven, immediately mistook it as a feeling of contempt and disgust at the mudblood.

end flashback-

"I fancied you then," she admitted in a low whisper, her cheeks red. I stare at her, dumbfounded. "So I asked around the train about you, and soon I found out… what you are,"

Hermione sighed and rubbed her flushed cheeks. "You were a pureblood, and an only son of one of the richest families in the wizarding world," her expression turned morose, but still she won't look at me. "Not to mention that you're a spoiled, bullying brat," a faint smile touched her lips, making her look like a vulnerable little angel.

I involuntarily gave a forced-sounding laugh. "I was named the Slytherin Prince," I said absent-mindedly, forcing myself to wrench my gaze from her mouth.

"I watched you bully Harry and Ron," Hermione continued in a monotonous voice. "And I almost immediately lost my feeling of admiration for you. I saw how you were mean to others, how you took every opportunity to make life miserable not only for Harry, Ron, and me, but others who don't serve your purposes too,"

A bitter smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "I was such a bastard for the last six years," I confessed without a hint of embarrassment. "That's why I deserve to have this cruel fate. I deserve to be punished so my soul can be redeemed. If that was possible," I said in a joking manner.

Mahogany eyes finally met my cool gray ones.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Hermione asked softly. "You just said that a while ago," I responded in the same low voice, giving her a dry smile.

"Draco… your soul is very much redeemable," she whispered, and I felt my stomach flutter as my name rolled in her tongue.

Hermione moved swiftly towards me and settled on the empty space on my left side at the couch. "Before you leave tomorrow… I have a favor to ask of you,"

I turn to face her, pushing back a lock of blonde hair that had fallen over my eyes. I saw her swallow, and her cheeks turned red again. "What is it?" I ask without much feeling.

"Close your eyes and don't do or say anything until I'm safely in my bedroom," she said with a pleading look in her eyes that made me comply almost too quickly. If she's going to take her revenge on me now and turn me to a ferret, then so be it, I thought.

My heart almost jumped from my chest when I felt her warm and pliant lips brushing against mine in an innocent caress. Her small hands circled around my neck, and she pressed her mouth a little harder, and I felt her stiffen when I crushed her close to me and touched my tongue against her closed lips, demanding entrance.

She willingly opened her mouth, and the next thing I knew, she was lying on the couch and I was on top of her, my mouth continually devouring her sweetness. She gave a small moan of ecstasy when my lips moved from her mouth to her neck, gently nipping all the way.

She pulled me up again and our lips found each other in an earth-shattering kiss that nearly drove me mad with desire. "Y—you weren't supposed to move," Hermione managed to say between kisses.

I growled in reply and buried my face in her strawberry scented hair, trying with every fiber of my being to calm my racing heart and throbbing arousal.

Hermione was trembling beneath me, and her breathing was labored. I disengaged myself from her and carefully avoided her eyes. It was an easy task as she did the same as she made a vain attempt to straighten her disheveled clothes.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" came her strangled voice.

"I also fancied you. And I guess I still do up to now,"

Hermione gave me an owlish stare, her mouth open. "What!" she screeched. "That is not a funny joke, Malfoy,"

"Then don't believe me. I don't really care," I tell her in an off-hand manner, making a move to stand up. I was forced back on the couch, however, when Hermione yanked me by my robes down beside her.

"I'm going to sleep, Granger, or have you forgotten that I am to leave to serve the Dark Lord tomorrow?" I felt her quiver beside me, but I forced myself not to look at her.

God knows what I might do again.

Although what she said next made my head whip so quickly in her direction I felt a sharp crick in my neck.

"Can I sleep with you?" Hermione asked, her limpid honey eyes looking at me guilelessly.

"What!" it was my turn to screech at her. "Are you mad, woman? You can't sleep with me!"

I inwardly cursed when Hermione looked honestly confused at my sudden outburst. "And why is that?" she asked, hurt visible in her tone. "Is it because I'm a mudblood? Didn't you just say---"

"Damn you, do you want to lose your--- your----" I couldn't sputter the word virginity to her. "---innocence to me!"

I was relieved when she finally understood. Heat crept up her cheeks, but her gaze was unwavering when she replied, "I don't care. Do whatever you want,"

I just stare at her, astonished. I just sat there gawking at her for the next minutes, robbed of my speech capability.

"Draco, I just want to be with you tonight," Hermione whispered, giving me another guileless stare.

"Are you sure?" I manage to croak out. She nodded, and I pulled her into my arms in a tight embrace, marveling at the soft feel of her body against mine.

"Why don't we pretend tonight that the past years didn't exist?" she suggested softly, her limpid mahogany eyes boring into my gray ones. I smile in reply, and say nothing as we look at each other.

"You know," she began, still in the same tone of voice that caressed my soul, "Your eyes are turning silver, Draco," she gave me a shy smile as she said that.

"They only turn like that when I'm feeling something intense," I answer, unable to resist dropping a kiss on her forehead. Her fingers slowly threaded through my hair, and her face was starting to tilt up closer to mine.

"I can't believe any of this is happening," she said, just when our lips were an inch from each other.

I didn't answer, just kissed her with all the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling at the moment.

I didn't know how we ended up in my bedroom, but I do recall to full detail everything that happened between us, and I doubt I'll ever forget it. Hermione had really been an innocent, and I really had to control what I was feeling so I would frighten her or hurt her.

And when I was finally able to teach her everything she needed to learn, she turned into a wildcat in my arms. She became just as demanding and as responsive as I was. And right in the middle of it we talked about everything. We made passionate love until the crack of dawn, and just before the sun was about to rise, she finally fell asleep, and I rose from the bed and slowly put on my robes.

I didn't realize she was awake until I felt her stand behind me, my forest-green blanket wrapped around her naked body. As I buttoned the topmost portion of my cloak, I kept my gaze trained carefully on the floor, refusing to look somewhere else.

When the task was done, I straighten up and start to walk towards the door, but stop when Hermione grabbed a fistful of my cloak and yank me to her. Giving a sigh, I turn to face her, and felt what was left of my heart break.

Tears clouded her mahogany eyes, but none dared to fall; her lips, which were swollen from my kisses last night, were trembling as she tried to bite back her tears. The raw anguish was etched all over her face, making her look so fragile that she might shatter at the slightest touch.

I try to give her my trademark smile, but my lips refused to move. My heart was squeezing painfully, and my body felt so cold and numb. "I have to go," I whispered after a few moments of silence. As she nodded to me, a lone tear fell on her cheek, and I couldn't help but wipe the wetness away with my thumb.

Her eyes slid close at my touch, and she murmured, "I'll see you again, Draco,"

"Yes," I answer, pulling her in my arms in one last embrace. I leaned down and gave her my farewell kiss, which was heart-wrenchingly sorrowful and bittersweet.

When I managed to pull away, I turn around and walk away, never looking back.

I might never leave if I do.

As I walked out of the castle, my last thought before I completely closed my mind was…

I never told her I loved her.

A/n: sucks? sweatdrop sorry, but I really needed to let that one out. Please review!