A/N: Hey guys! It's a NEW FIC!!!! YEA!!!!!!
I have no idea at all about how to write angsty stuff, so bear with me. Oh, and this was originally meant to be a one-shot, but I couldn't think of a good finish. Maybe next time.
Please review
mysticrystal faerie
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story- J. K. Rowling has that honour.
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While They Slept
It was a wild and windy night. The sky flashed with anger, an ever-present black hole. Storm clouds scudded across the heavens, leering nastily at the castle. The wind whipped fiercely, howling across the skies.
A candle flickered, and for a moment, a shadow could be seen, prowling around the castle hallways. Then, it too was gone, melting into the darkness.
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High up in the Astronomy tower, Hermione Granger stood from her vantage point by the window, watching the storm unfold. The window creaked open, almost of its own accord, bringing in a fresh blast of wind. She shivered, wrapping her cloak more tightly around herself, and then stared back down into the vast expanse that was night.
The moon rose, the candle flame on the windowsill lending it a dark, blood red hue. The sky flashed yet again, lighting up her face with an unearthly sheen. Her face was proud and impassive; eyes staring defiantly back at the night.
The wind swept by, its icy limbs slapping her in the face. Her façade crumbled, and a single tear crept out, triggering something inside of her. This single tear, was a tear that had been threatening to fall for ages- a tear that she had never allowed to leak. Until now. Now, she wept openly, lamenting her losses to the skies. She cried out in distress at the wrongs she had been committed, shamelessly pouring out her soul to the world in front of her. It wasn't as if anyone cared anymore.
Unbeknownst to her, a lone, cloaked figure stood in the shadows, watching and waiting, listening to her outburst with wide eyes.
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And in the house dormitories, the children slept on, oblivious to it all.
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Hermione was halfway through her anguished tirade. She was angry and tired of living for other people. She was tired of being always the mere side kick of the famous Harry Potter. She was tired of being always the role model, always the bookworm, and always slightly out of place. She was tired of being what other people wanted her to be. She just wanted to be her own person. It couldn't be that hard... could it?
At this point, she took out her fingers and began counting down on them.
One. She lived for her parents- as their little, over-accomplished girl that they could show off.
Two. She lived for her best friends- Harry and Ron- fiercely loyal, always the brains behind their escapades, yet never appreciated nor recognised.
Three. She lived for her head of house- the girl with the top marks; the aspiring role model that she could always count on to do her work and would always be responsible; a girl to show off as the product of her teaching efforts.
Four. She lived for the magical community- always assisting Harry in defending himself against the Dark Lord, and thus also responsible for the hope that the community could still pin on Harry.
The figure in the shadows was becoming slightly nervous.
Five. Hell, she even lived for her enemies!
Here, the figure in the shadows started.
She was their punch-bag, someone whom they could trash and talk about, someone whom they could degrade and call 'mudblood'.
The figure in the shadows was starting to feel distinctly guilty.
Staring at her fingers, Hermione suddenly realised that it would probably be too hard for her to become her own person. She had been living for other people for too long.
The anger and regret was building up, the feeling pumping up the adrenaline inside her. She peered out at the ground below. The darkness swallowed up the castle walls, and all she could see was black. The adrenaline was drumming in her ears. She peered out yet again. Surely it wouldn't hurt if she took a quick tour outside. No one cared.
The adrenaline coursed through her mind, making her slightly more daring than usual. 'My life isn't a real life- it isn't worth living at all', she decided.
So, steeling herself, she took a deep breath, and jumped.
Causing the silhouette in the shadows to curse and leap into action.
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And still, the children slept on.
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Slowly, the darkness began to retreat, as if it had done its job. The winds stopped howling, and the moon paled. In the distance, a rooster crowed, as the first shaft of sunlight broke through.
It was dawn.
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There were bright red and orange spots dancing beneath her eyelids. She was in a bed, a soft, heavenly bed, sandwiched between silky, satin bed sheets. She rolled over onto her stomach, feeling the wonderful comfort of a real pillow beneath her head. Satin sheets...
Wait a second. She didn't own anything remotely like satin sheets! She opened her eyes groggily, to see a flesh-coloured blur staring back down at her. She blinked.
The outline of the shape came into focus. It was a face, and judging by the angular shape of the face, very distinctively male. Wait a sec... there shouldn't be guys in the girls dormitory! She tried to tell the person (whoever it was) to piss off, but all that came out was a muffled moan. Was it just her, or did the face suddenly seem concerned? She blinked again, a bit more forcefully.
Splotches of gold and grey swam before her eyes.
A guy with blond hair, grey eyes, and satin bed sheets... She put two and two together. Oh, crap.
And peered up to see the face of Draco Malfoy leering back at her.
A/N: So... what did you think? Please review- any feedback is welcome, even if (especially if!) it is constructive criticism! Thanks!
Thank you to Tsyoku for giving me the inspiration for this story, beta reading it and helping me to come up with a title. You're the best!
mysticrystal faerie