Hermione Granger stood in the darkness in front of a massive and marvelous manor. She glared up at it as if it was her own personal hell. Draco Malfoy, owner of the Manor, glared at the girl with equal hate.
"Well don't just stand there Granger." He hissed at the bushy haired girl. Hermione's brown eyes snapped onto Draco's grey ones instantly. One word passed through both of their minds: Scars.
"I'm sorry; I don't exactly want to go in there again. You do remember don't you?" she scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. Draco paled, he did remember.
"I don't have fond memories of it either Granger, but I have to live with it don't I, and now so do you. So get inside." Draco snapped, pointing to the door. Hermione rubbed her right arm unconsciously; Draco caught this, but didn't say anything.
"Fine Malfoy, I suppose you won't have to worry about me wondering around the house then." Hermione growled, and grabbed her trunk. She stomped into the house, and Draco followed her in reluctantly.
When they neared the drawing room, Hermione stood up straight, squared her shoulders, and walked into the room. Hermione's confidence faded quickly, and she froze. Draco glared at his shoes, willing himself not to look around him or at Hermione. He was sure he'd be completely consumed my horrible memories, just as Hermione had been. He heard a whimper, and he shook his head. He clapped his hands loudly, Hermione jumped and whipped towards Draco.
"There is absolutely no reason to just stand there and cry, keep going Granger." He ordered impatiently. Hermione glared at him for a moment, and then began to walk towards the door on the other side of the room.
"Where exactly is my room Malfoy?" she huffed.
"The top floor, first one on the right," Draco told her as they neared a black marble staircase.
"And where is yours?" she asked, climbing them. Draco noticed she had a slight limp.
"Last one on the left, and don't be snooping in it." he sighed, and pointed to the room now that they had reached the top floor.
"Fine." Hermione snarled. She then rushed into her room, and slammed the door shut.
Draco wanted to hit a wall. It wasn't his fault that the left over Death Eater's target was Granger. He'd gotten away from all that as quick as he could. His parents were in Azkaban for the rest of their life, so how could he stay with such a crowd, really? They were the ones that made him do those things in the first place. Sure, he'd thought it was exciting at first 'Making history for the Malfoy name' or at least that's how his father had convinced him. But once he knew the true horror of what he'd gotten into, he wanted out.
And apparently Harry Potter saw the truth in his words at the ministry, because he wasn't with his parents. Now he was just sulking around, trying to maintain the Malfoy estate, and working at an Owl taming zoo. He was rebuilding himself, not completely changing; just improving.
But Merlin did he want to slap that stupid mudblood. She was being ungrateful, and honestly, he wasn't just going to forget everything they did to make each other pissed in Hogwarts. Oh no, absolutely not.
He walked into his room, and pulled out a book. He was just getting into it when he heard a scream. Granger; he thought immediately, they'd found away to get in. He grabbed his wand, and burst into her room.
"What the hell?" he asked when he saw her sitting up in bed and sobbing. She looked up him scornfully.
"Oh, please forgive me for my oh-so-disrupting screams, I was just having a absolutely horrid dream in here, please, go about your business while a tiny bit of me dies slowly." She sniffled sarcastically. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Merlin Granger, I actually thought you were being abducted in here, I was a bit thrown off when I found you crying in your bed. I won't bother next time." He huffed, and walked back into his room.
Draco knew he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. Granger having nightmares meant he would have them too, and his dreams were very realistic.
Draco entered his bathroom, and looked at himself in the mirror. You could most defiantly tell he had had a past o' pain. He has scars along his neck, many up his arms, one across his nose, and plenty of burn scars. He winced at the memory of the Room of Requirement, memories really. It had served as a refuge, and a hell.
Suddenly he remembered how close Crabbe, Goyle and him had been to killing the very girl down the hall. He'd completely forgotten; no wonder Granger was especially hostile, he'd tried to kill her! He shook his head, he was at his ultimate low at the time, but that was no excuse. He glanced at his dark mark, it was faded, yes, but it would forever be there.