Fundamentally Loathsome

By Watercolor Nightmare

Disclaimer: I shall say this once and only once, so pay attention! I do not own anything you recognize as having been created or perfected by JK Rowling. Anything affiliated with the books and/or the films portraying the world of Harry Potter are entirely the property of the respective owners, writers, producers, etc. However, anything you don't recognize came from the confines of my own mind.

Go Ask Alice is an "anonymous" work of fiction that also does not belong to me, and is the property of its respective owners and editors. The quotes cited in this chapter are copied verbatim as found in the hard cover edition.

Author's Note: This is in response to a challenge, the alphabet challenge issued by Pinky Acid Mannequin. Given twenty-six prompts the challenge is to create a story of any length desired around a specific pairing for any fandom. My version will be a Dramione of approximately twenty-six chapters, with one prompt in each one.

The prompt found in this chapter is acid.

Chapter One
Let It Be

"You've got to be the most boring girl at Hogwarts." Draco Malfoy announced as he stepped through the door leading into the common room for the Head Dormitory and found Hermione Granger curled beneath a blanket on a couch near a crackling fire reading. Hardly acknowledging him, Hermione's eyes began to move towards him, but then resolutely remained on the page before her. Draco smirked at her anyway, lithely making his way down the two stone steps that lead to the slightly lowered area of the common room, covered in thick carpet. "It's a Saturday evening and here you are with your nose shoved in a book." He remarked in an amiable tone as he took a seat on a second couch. Hermione's jaw visibly clenched, but her eyes remained on the book.

Narrowing his eyes, Draco realized that today was one of the days Hermione would not rise to his bait. With a dissatisfied, and slightly disappointed sigh, he rose to his feet and walked past her. He paused at the staircase that would lead him up to their rooms, debating whether or not he should insult her further, but decided against it. After all, someone was waiting for him by the lake. Without another thought about Hermione, Draco mounted the steps and disappeared into an alcove that branched two ways, one leading to his room while the other lead to Hermione's. With a simple tap of his wand on his door, it swung open easily so that he could enter. Kicking it shut with his foot, Draco tossed his wand onto the nearby desk and immediately began to undress.

Showering, drying off, and ultimately redressing was made quick work and in less than fifteen minutes Draco was heading down the stairs, past a still reading Hermione who spared him not a single glance, and out the common room door. He whistled softly to himself as he walked down the corridor, but stopped when he realized he didn't recognize the tune. He must have heard it somewhere, but no matter how hard he tried the tune just couldn't be placed. By the time he had exited the main doors, crossed the large expanse of grass and was walking along the lake towards a pacing, and displeased looking, Pansy Parkinson, he still had not thought of the name of the tune. When Pansy immediately turned her frowning face on him, with her arms cross, and her lips moving quickly Draco braced for a severe tongue-lashing.

"You won't believe what that Weasel said to me today." Pansy seethed. Draco shot a glance her way that clearly stated he didn't want to know, but unfortunately, Pansy pretended she hadn't noticed. "He told me that if I was going to act like a common whore I may as well do it with someone better than you." She spat out, shaking her head. Draco couldn't help but laugh.

"He does realize I'm not the only bloke you're sleeping with?" He inquired and Pansy's eyebrows lifted considerably. With another chuckle, Draco said, "Oh don't look so surprised. I am capable of mentioning it without needing to be angry." Pansy at least had the decency to blush, if you could call it that. Draco watched her with amusement; it wasn't often one saw an uncomfortable and embarrassed Pansy. With a smirk, Draco leaned forward and kissed Pansy lightly on the lips, his eyes locked with hers the entire time. Then, he shrugged and began to walk away, toward the Forbidden Forest. Pansy did not follow, her face draw into a frown as she watched his back. Turning back, Draco shot her a confused look.

"Aren't you coming?" He called out and he could almost hear her breathe a sigh of relief. This was how Draco generally managed to avoid fights with the girl. They both did it; when something like this was brought up the other merely brushed it off and chose to go about the day as if nothing had been done or said. Of course, there were days when their tempers broke and all hell was released, but today was not one of them. With a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips, Pansy nearly skipped towards him, looping her arm with his. They simply walked for an hour, chatting amiably. Finally Pansy sighed beside Draco and halted, pulling him to a stop with her.

Turning toward him, she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him almost passionately. Then she pulled away, pouting slightly and said, "Unfortunately I promised Millicent I would help her with something this evening." Draco nodded once, looking up at the now dark sky above them. "Would you like me to stop by later?" She inquired, touching his cheek lightly to bring his gaze back to her.

"Of course." Draco murmured, once more capturing her lips with his. The kiss was brief, and Draco knew that Pansy was probably not going to be seeing Millicent, but it didn't bother him. At least not today. He liked Pansy, but he surely didn't love her, and with them it was more about a mutual desire for pleasure mixed with the comfortable presence of a close friend. Though, he had to admit that there were times that he got possessive, but that was only when he was feeling especially lonely, or insecure. Tonight was not one of those times. Pansy left without another word, but Draco didn't mind. He merely set his feet in the opposite direction and wandered aimlessly, losing track of time.

By the time he arrived back at the common room, it was almost eleven, which meant he had wandered for quite some time after Pansy's departure. Eleven was still early for him, but he would have Pansy for company later that evening, and he was certain that neither of them would be getting to sleep until well into the morning hours following her arrival. Now, as Draco stepped into the common room, all thoughts of Pansy fled, because there were no candles burning, and the fireplace was a looming black cavern in the darkness. Draco had been fully expecting to find Hermione still in the same position on the couch, but apparently she had either retired to her room or decided against being a boring bookworm for the evening.

With a muttered spell, the room was suddenly bathed in a warm, glowing light. Candles flared up all around him and the fire surged to crackling life. It was not particularly cold outside, or in the room itself, but Draco had always been fond of the warmth fire provided. It was one thing he and Hermione seemed to agree on. The weather never became very warm, so a fire usually was a welcome or tolerable sight, instead of becoming overbearing. As Draco neared its warmth, his eyes fell onto a book sitting on the marble table in front of both couches, sliding onto the one nearest it; he reached out and grabbed the blue book.

The title read Go Ask Alice, from the spine of the book only, and appeared to have been authored anonymously. He turned it over in his hand to find that both the cover and the back bore no lettering whatsoever. Having never heard of this book, Draco assumed it must be Muggle literature, and almost set it back down disdainfully when his curiosity got the better of him. Ignoring the bookmark that held Hermione's place within it, he thumbed through the pages stopping at one a little more than halfway through. Leaning back, he raised the book and read:

The Rally itself was great, acid and booze and pot as free as the air. Even now colors are still dripping down over me and the crack in the window is beautiful. This life is beautiful. It's so goddamned beautiful I can hardly stand it. And I'm a glorious part of it! Everybody else is just taking up space. Goddamned stupid people. I'd like to shove life down their throats and then maybe they'd understand what it's all about.

Near the door a fat girl with long stringy blonde hair is getting to her knees on a green upon green upon purple robe. She's got a guy with her and he has a ring in his nose and multi-colored designs on his shaven head. They keeping saying "love" to each other. It's beautiful to watch. Color intermingled with color. People intermingled with people. Color and people intercoursing together.

Draco frowned, placing the book in his lap and staring at it. He had never heard some of the words used. He supposed they were Muggle terms, and he wanted to know what they were, and for a mere moment he debated asking Hermione about it when he next saw her, but decided against it. After all, who was he to show interest in something Muggle? Turning his attention back to the book, he flipped through the pages more, stopping nearer to the end. With an odd look of concentration and interest on his face, Draco continued to read as his eyes landed near the middle of one page.

The worms are eating away my female parts first. They have almost entirely eaten away my vagina and my breasts and now they are working on my mouth and throat. I wish the doctors and nurses would let my soul die, but they are still experimenting with trying to reunite the body and the spirit.

Here, Draco stopped, a look of shock on his face. What kind of book was Hermione reading? He had never read anything like it. It didn't make any sense to him, and though he was tempted to turn all of the pages back and start reading from page one, he set the book down and rose to his feet, making his way to the stairs. This time, he paused and looked at the book oddly, as though he wanted it to suddenly sprout legs and a mouth and explain to him exactly what it had been talking about. With a shake of his head, Draco pushed all thoughts of the silly, strange Muggle book from his thoughts and made his way to his room.

At the alcove where the hallway branched two ways, Draco shot a look towards Hermione's room, at the end, trying to glimpse any light coming from beneath the door, but it appeared to be dark. He wasn't sure why he did it, perhaps it was the lingering curiosity about the book, but regardless, even if there had been light visible, coming from a crack between the wood of the door and the floor, he would not have approached it. What point would there be in conversing with aMudblood about her Muggle books? There was just no point really. In any case, to show his interest in such a thing would be disastrous. It was best to quell the curiosity before it grew too strong.

Another tap on his bedroom door with his wand made it swing open and the candles blazed to life the moment he stepped into the room. He closed the door gently, as if afraid to make too much noise. It was rather quiet and he didn't feel like having the silence disrupted. He was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling thinking about all manner of things, from potions to Pansy, from food to flying when a soft rapping sounded from the other side of his door. It startled him, causing his heart rate to rise slightly, though he would never admit that to anyone. He shot up and stared at the door from his seated position. It came again and this time was accompanied by an all too familiar voice.

"You have a guest, and I refuse to willingly let that cow into my living quarters." Hermione's voice called through the wood, her words laced with disdain. She must have just come in. Rising to his feet, Draco quickly made his way to the door, opened it and was pleased to see that Hermione jumped in surprise and one of her hands rose to her chest. Then, shooting him a glare, she turned and disappeared into her own bedroom nearly fifteen feet away and directly across from his. Draco didn't watch her leave, but instead followed her slightly, deviating from her path to turn and walk down the stairs. When he opened the door, he found Pansy standing with one hand on her hip and a livid expression on her face.

"Where's that bloody Gryffindor?" She demanded, pushing past Draco and storming into the common room. Draco shut the door and leaned against it, watching Pansy as she stopped and surveyed the room as if expecting Hermione to be waiting for her. Whirling around, Pansy glared at him, even though he didn't deserve it. Or maybe he did? He had after all been interested in something Muggle. But Pansy didn't know that. "Is she in her room?" Pansy asked, trying to make her voice sound as if she wasn't planning on ripping Hermione's limbs from her body, severing her head and then serving it to Harry Potter on a silver platter. Draco shrugged.

"Could be." He said simply. He pushed himself off of the door and made his way toward Pansy, grabbing her arm lightly and pulling her with him toward the stairs. "But if you go and murder the Head Girl, then you wouldn't be able to stay the night." He said, glancing back at Pansy suggestively who, now that they had climbed the stairs, was staring daggers at Hermione's door. With a sigh, Pansy turned her attention to Draco and followed him into his room, looking much happier at the prospect of spending the night with him. The door shut behind them and from behind the muffled wood came the sounds of soft murmuring and several very distinct feminine giggles.

Draco certainly had been right, they did not sleep until very early in the morning, and when he woke up around noon the next day, Pansy was not to be found. With a yawn, he stretched and kicked his covers off of him, and slowly began to make his way out of bed. Descending the stairs, he saw that Hermione was seated near the fireplace again, and gave Draco a scathing look, but he was somewhat used to that. He was all set on ignoring her, but apparently she had other plans. "Your girlfriend threatened me this morning." Hermione said, her voice soft, yet strong. Draco glanced at her with a shrug.

"She's not really my girlfriend, you know." He countered and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Whatever she is to you, she's a bloody nuisance to me and I don't want that kind of trash walking around in the place I have to live for the remainder of the school year." Hermione chided, and shook her head. "She actually threatened to hex me. Has she always been that daft? Does she realize she'd get immediately expelled for a deliberate attack on the Head Girl?" Hermione inquired snappily and Draco turned to her with another shrug.

"She's gotten smarter, but I think the satisfaction of seeing you defeated would be worth the expulsion to her." He explained and Hermione scoffed.

"Well, you did pick yourself a gem, Malfoy. But, I suppose when you're going to be a Death Eater, you may as well pick mistresses that are equally as low and vile." Hermione said, almost too sweetly and Draco was almost fooled by her tone into not realizing what she had said. He, however, brushed it off. He wasn't in the mood to bicker with Hermione. His head was pounding as a result of some firewhiskey Pansy had brought with her the night before. When Hermione continued to talk, his temper got the best of him.

"Could you please shut that ugly trap of yours for more than two seconds?" Draco snapped, whirling on Hermione. She had been looking at the work strewn before her on the table, but now turned to look at him with a surprised expression. It occurred to Draco then that he hadn't even heard what she had said. Judging from the confused and shocked look on her face, he began doubting whether she had spoken again or not. With raised eyebrows, Hermione turned slowly away from him and began to gather her things. Carrying them up the stairs to her room, she looked behind her once with a searching stare at Draco that bore just the smallest hint of concern. It irritated Draco immensely.

Hearing her door close caused Draco's annoyance to subside slightly, but it peaked again when the fluffy grey and white tabby that was Hermione's kitten sought him out. Draco didn't understand why Hermione insisted in having it. Persephone, as Hermione called her, was troublesome. As he walked toward the balcony doors, Persephone trailed him, meowing once or twice in a seemingly begging manner as though she wanted nothing more than for him to pay attention to her. Grumbling under his breath, he shoved her gently with his foot, trying to deter her. Instead of being offended and seeking out Hermione, Persephone merely rubbed her kitten head against his leg and continued to follow him.

When Draco sat in one of the chairs, Persephone jumped onto his lap, and looking down at the purring kitten he could not bring himself to push her off. His irritated drained quickly, and he absently began to pet the kitten as he stared out over the expanse of the Hogwarts grounds. He could see the lake from here, as well as the Forbidden Forest. It was beautiful. Pulled from his thoughts abruptly by Hermione's voice, Draco turned to find her standing in the doorway watching him. "I thought she managed to get outside the dormitory. I couldn't find her." Hermione said, and Draco glanced down at the kitten in his lap.

He felt awkward suddenly, as if this gentle show of leniency on the animal was saying something about his seemingly cold attitude and on impulse shoved the kitten off of him. Persephone let out a startled meow and tried to claw onto his legs in an attempted rescue, only succeeding in sinking the sharp points into his skin. With a surprised cry, Draco instantly was on his feet, and for a moment Persephone dangled from his pants before she fell to the floor. With a disgruntled look up at him, the kitten sped away into the building. Hermione's eyebrows raised and then narrowed. Draco had a feeling he was due for a lecture on the treatment of her kitten.

"Look, got to go." Draco mumbled, brushing past her and heading straight for the stairs and subsequently his room. The door closed behind him with a slam and Draco immediately descended onto his bed, head still pounding and crawled beneath the covers. It took him no longer than five minutes to fall asleep, and it was a peaceful sleep. It was not to last though, when a loud, resounding crash issued from outside his door, accompanied by yelling, causing him to bolt awake. Struggling to free himself from the covers, he almost fell on the floor, but managed to catch his balance and stagger unsteadily to the door. Finding his feet, he opened the door so forcefully it hit the wall, and bounded down the steps. The sight that greeted him was far from pleasant.

Draco could only guess that Hermione had intended to leave at the same moment that Pansy had intended to call on him. He was nearly certain that Hermione would have insulted Pansy, or vice versa, and that Pansy would have been denied access. He could imagine Pansy reacting violently. Her tolerance for the Golden Trio had been waning extremely fast as of late. This would have been where Pansy had pulled her wand on an unsuspecting Hermione, hitting her with a powerful curse she preferred over all others. Having never experienced it before, Draco was entirely unsure what it did exactly, because Pansy refused to explain, but he knew it caused great pain and discomfort.

Draco was nearly positive that this was the sequence of events that led up to him finding Pansy shrieking at Hermione, who was on her knees, grimacing in pain and glaring at the other girl. Pansy's wand was aimed at Hermione's heart, and Draco, as he descended the last step, was certain she was going to perform the Avada Kedavra. Her face was lit with a sadistic smile and she opened her mouth to speak when Draco stepped around Hermione, walking directly in front of the wand. Instantly it was dropped to Pansy's side as she stepped back. Behind him, Draco could hear Hermione's labored breathing; the curse would remain until either the caster lifted it, or three days passed.

"Pansy," Draco began softly, giving her a reprimanding look, "she's the Head Girl." There was the sound of movement behind Draco, and he suspected that Hermione was struggling to rise to her feet, and sure enough, she stepped shakily to his side.

"You despicable wretch." Hermione spat out. Pansy eyed her coolly, obviously keeping herself in check now that Draco was present. Neither expected for Hermione to launch herself towards Pansy, her fist connecting with the Slytherin's face. Pansy staggered backward, her wand slipping from her hand and clattering to the floor. Hermione snarled and grasped Pansy's hair, pulling the other girl's face close to her own. "What spell did you use? Was that dark magic?" She demanded with her voice slightly strained. Pansy fought her way free and stepped back, her eyes wide. Draco seemed paralyzed on the spot, but when Pansy shot him a pleading look he grabbed Hermione's arm.

Her breathing labored, a flush rising to her cheeks, Hermione glanced at him. She was visibly shaking. "Pansy, leave." Draco said in clipped tones. Pansy said nothing, but stooped to retrieve her wand and positively fled the room. Draco followed her and closed the door. When he turned back to Hermione she had retreated to the stairs and was seated on the bottom most step, her elbows resting on her thighs, her hands lifted to cradle her head, which was hanging in a defeated manner. "Well what was all that about?" Draco tried to ask as casually as he could, but Hermione's head lifted and she glared at him. He was taken aback to see that she had tears falling onto her cheeks.

"What was the spell?" She asked through clenched teeth, her hands balling into fists as they settled into her lap. She didn't give him a chance to respond and rose unsteadily to her feet. "You know what, I don't even care. You and your filthy tramp can do what you like, use all the dark magic you want against me and whoever else you decide to hate." She said, mounting the steps. Taking only two steps her strength gave out and she toppled down the few stairs and landed in a tangled heap on the floor.

Draco stared at her for several moments unsure of what to do, when finally his conscience kicked in and he hurried forward, kneeling down and touching her arm somewhat more roughly than he should have. She didn't respond. Suddenly terrified, Draco grasped her arms and pulled her up. Being dead weight, it was difficult to get her up and into his arms, and he awkwardly carried her to one of the couches where he unceremoniously dropped her onto the cushions. Then he stared at her in horror. He was about to get Madame Pompfrey when a tortured groan rose from the couch. "Malfoy?" Hermione called out, her voice trembling. When he didn't answer she repeated herself, in a slightly more frantic tone

Hesitantly Draco made his way toward her, so that he was visible to her. Hermione wiped the tears off her face, but more simply fell. For the briefest of moments Draco was tempted to mock her. The feeling quickly gave way to one of pity. Her eyes locked on his, and in uncharacteristic moment of weakness and vulnerability, her body was racked with a sob while she pleaded, "Please, take it off. You must know how." But Draco didn't know how. Pansy had learned the spell from her father and refused to share it with anyone. It was one of the few spells she could do nonverbally, though she still always needed a wand. Consequently, no one knew the incantation, or counter-curse.

Much to Draco's surprise Hermione insisted that he not speak with Madame Pompfrey and instead of demanding that Pansy be brought back so that she could administer a counter-curse the Head Girl asked the duration of the spell. When Draco told her it was three days she nodded somewhat grimly and requested that he help her to her room. Draco felt that the least he could do was help her; after all it had been his friend, and sometime girlfriend, that had done this to Hermione. Slightly uncomfortably, Draco supported Hermione as they walked up the stairs and down the short hall to her room. Once they were close to the door, Hermione pushed her weight off Draco and grasped the handle, pushing the door open.

Draco stood there unsure of what he should do now, but he caught his first glimpse of Hermione's bedroom. He had expected it to be decorated in deep reds and gold, typical of a Gryffindor. Instead, the room was richly done in deep blues and greens. She had a large bookcase, filled with books to the left of her bed, just beside a large window, and on the other side of the bed sat an oak desk, covered in papers, quills and inkpots. It was similar to Draco's for the most part, but looking at it, he got the distinct feel of warmth that didn't come when looking at his own room. He watched as Hermione sat on the edge of her bed, trying to calm her breathing. Draco didn't stay to speak with her.

For the three days of the spells duration, Hermione remained within her room. Draco assumed that house elves brought her food, because he did not go to check on her. None of the teachers inquired as to her whereabouts, which led Draco to assume she had an owl in that room of hers enabling her to send and receive messages. Pansy avoided him, which was unusual, but perhaps she felt it best to lie low after having attacked the Head Girl. It wasn't as though Draco was going to chastise her for it, or maybe he was. Pansy was lucky Hermione had decided not to say anything about the incident. He was suspicious as to why.

The evening of the third day, Hermione's door creaked open, and Draco who had been sitting near the fireplace downstairs lifted his head to find her walking slowly down the steps, looking rather worn but relieved. Her eyes found a stack of parchments and books piled on the table near Draco and before she could ask, he said, "Courtesy of our professors. They informed me to give you the work after you'd fully recovered." Hermione shot him a doubting look.

"Why would they tell you to do that?" She asked. Draco noted how weak her voice sounded. He offered a shrug.

"Everyone knows you'd refuse St. Mungo's even if your life depended on it just so you could complete an assignment and receive high marks." Draco said in an amused tone, earning him a sour look from Hermione. She said nothing though, and merely collected the materials and retreated to her room. Draco almost offered to help, but decided that leaving to practice Quidditch sounded like a much better idea.