I Give You My Word
This was also typed off my iPod. I love that machine. x)
Hermione Granger cried.
She sobbed, wailed, sniffled, and bawled. All because her friends... hated her. They had no time for her, just a plain, measly bookworm. So that night, at the Yule Ball, she hid in an abandoned classroom and just...cried. She cried out all her sorrows, her anger, her confusion. She didn't even notice when the door creaked open and a presence slipped in and sat beside her.
"Why are you crying?" a voice whispered ever so softly. Hermione instantly stiffened. "Don't cry, Granger. What's wrong?"
Hermione looked up to see Draco Malfoy sitting right beside her, still in his Yule Ball dress robes.
Hermione sniffled and wiped her eyes with her palms. "W-what do you w-want, Malfo-foy?" she stuttered, trying her best to sound brave and not like she just cried herself close to dry.
"Cut the crap, Granger; I know you were crying," he scowled. "What's making you cry and —"
Hermione held up her hand and stopped him short. "Let me guess, Malfoy. And why aren't you part of it?" she spat. "The whole world doesn't bloody revolve around you."
Draco scowled at the interruption. "Well, then let's say, hypothetically, the world revolves around you tonight. What's wrong, Granger?"
"Why do you even care?" she hissed, eyes stinging with tears yet again. "You're just going t-to tau-aunt me ag-gain and and I just won't sta-and for it!" Hermione felt the tears running from her eyes again, and she looked away from Draco.
Draco put a hand on her shoulder. "My night was crap, too, so I won't judge you, Granger. Tell me what happened," he whispered. "P-please?" Malfoy's basically never say that word, so it was quite a mental struggle for him.
"Why, Malfoy?" she asked, drying her eyes again, this wave of tears done with. "Why do care about a M-Mudblood like me?" Saying that word brought back another wave of tears and Hermione burrows her hands in her hands again.
"Granger, shut up." Hermione looked up at him, eyes red and puffy and still wet with tears. "I won't repeat a word. You can tell me."
Hermione just stared at Draco in confusion; his face held no obvious hint of betrayal or dishonesty. "Everyone hates me," she said shakily and quietly. "Ron hates me and he yelled at me, Harry hates me and has no time for me, all the girls hate me because I went with Viktor as my date. Even you hate me!" Hermione collapsed her head into her hands again but her sobs were not as loud. It felt good to finally get out her troubles.
"Granger, stop crying; you look like shit," Draco drawled.
"I-if you're going-g to just i-insult me, just le-leave," Hermione begged through her tears. "You d-do hate me, don't t-try to fool m-me." Hermione looked away from the blonde and hid her face in her hands once again.
Draco was wounded that Hermione didn't believe him. "Dammit, Granger. Stop. Crying!" He grabbed her wrists and yanked her arms away from her face. She glared at him, but her eyes were swollen from crying, so she was not very intimidating. She sniffled and took a deep breath, albeit a shaky one.
"You know what, Malfoy?" She didn't let him answer.
"To you, I may just be a filthy Mudblood," Malfoy indiscernibly winced there, "but I am ten times the person you are. You can act like you give a damn, but I know you don't care about me at all. I don't need you, no matter what I'm telling myself."
Draco was wounded by her stinging words, but when you're frustrated, you have to let it out. He knew it for himself, having snapped at his friends many a time. One of the worst times that had happened was in third year, when Hermione had slapped him. Regardless of that, Draco still held onto her wrists, for fear of being slapped again.
"You are just an egotistical, little prat, and you may hate me, but—"
"Well, you're wrong, Granger," Draco said brazenly, causing her to stop talking and freeze in confusion and shock. "Because I don't hate you. I hate that you're friends with Potter and Weasley, and not me. I hate we're in rival houses, and that blood status separates us. I hate that I've been so cruel to you all these years. And I hate that... I hate that you'll never feel the same." Draco took a deep, shaky breath, let go of the brunette and turned away from Hermione, so he couldn't see her face, which was no doubt contorted in disgust.
"I— I— M-malfoy, you— you..." Hermione was at a loss for words, so she just continued what she was doing before. She let the tears run down her face freely, but she didn't sob or wail. Like a silent movie, Hermione Granger sat there and cried.
"Granger?" Hermione didn't look up. "Hermione?" She froze and stiffened ever so slightly. "Don't cry," Draco whispered softly.
Hermione turned around to face him. "A-are you te-telling the truth, M-malf-foy?" Draco took a minute to think before answering.
"Yes. I give you my word, I am," he replied solemnly.
"How do I know your word is even true?" she asked just as soft and seriously, her voice sounding just a bit hurt as well.
"Is this good enough for you?" He grabbed her by the wrists again and pulled her close, doing what he had so desperately wanted since third year. Hermione was shocked at first, but then she soon relaxed, too tired from crying to struggle.
When her lungs begged for air, Hermione pulled away, leaving the two panting. "I guess that is good enough for me." Hermione had no more tears left to cry, so she smiled at Draco.
"If I'm ever crying again, I know who to go to," she said softly, but more happily as well. "Thank you...Draco."
They two drifted off to their common rooms, blissfully happy, with a new found relationship to keep them away from sadness.
So Hermione Granger smiled, her tears forgotten, as she drifted off to sleep that night at the Yule Ball.
Aww, I love the fluff. Always! Let's see, I have a Yule Ball Dramione, a post-Hogwarts proposal one, two seventh year post-war ones, and an AU 7th year one... I need a pre-Hogwarts one when they're kids! Yay!
Review and hopefully I'll see you soon with another Dramione one-shot! Or in Are You Trippin? if you read that. x) Laterz, and hope you enjoyed this little ficlet.