Hermione sat cross-legged on the padded window seat in the Heads Commons, staring out into the pouring rain nostalgically. She was reminiscing the past few weeks of her life, which held a colourful mix of joy, sadness, anger, confusion, and hurt. She couldn't recall ever going through a phase of her life as intimidating and chock-full of emotion as that.
It scared her.
She carefully unfolded her legs and brought her knees up to her chin, rocking slowly from side to side.
In just a few short hours, all the students will have to board the shiny Hogwarts Express for King's Cross station for the summer holidays.
Or in Hermione's case, forever.
And instead of mingling with her friends and crying over all the things she never did in this beautiful old building, she was sitting, alone, in a corner of the large Commons, soaking in the solitude.
Hermione remembered the very first time she had laid eyes on him. Her heart had swelled with mutual disdain for the snobby rich boy twho jeered at her and called her names. Her mouth never failed to fill with a revoltingly bitter taste whenever she spat out his name. The amount of pure venom that coursed through her veins at the mere thought of that sneering blond Slytherin demi god couldn't even be measured by the truckful.
In their second year, just after Hermione recovered from her petrified encounter with the legendary Basilisk, he had teased her mercilessly, shouting for all of Hogwarts to hear that her blood was "so dirty, even a smelly millenium-old Basilisk disliked her".
Then along came third year. She could still clearly envision that wonderful, sun-kissed day when Hermione Granger had lost all forms of self-control and had struck him neatly across his smirking face. Her smarting red hand print had been emblazoned on his pale cheek for days. Hermione recalled the rush of satisfaction she had felt and remembered milking it for all it's worth.
Hermione could never forget the time she had become a prefect in fifth year. She had been extremely reluctant to do her rounds with him, seeing as she would've prefered Ron's company. Sadly, her redheaded friend was patrolling with that pouting snotbag, Pansy Parkinson.
In their sixth year, Hermione had hardly exchanged insults with her grey-eyed nemesis. He rarely appeared in her line of vision, and when he did, neither smirk nor foul words graced her presence. It was always just a small nod. A dipping of the head.
"Not up to your usual standards, Ferret Boy," Hermione had stated once.
"Neither are you," he had responded without the slightest flicker of emotion. "If you are, you would've noticed that I've changed." He gave her a piercing stare that penetrated deep into her soul. "I'm not the same person you grew up with, Granger."
Hermione hadn't understood his reply, and had more often than not wracked her brains for some kind of legal explaination. She hated having anything escape her knowledge.
Finally, the long-awaited answer came to her at the start of her seventh and final year in the form of a letter.
Hermione had immediately recognised the crisp white roll of parchment that was monogrammed with the Malfoy family crest. The green silk ribbon that held the delicate parchment in place untied easily with the softest tug of her fingers.
Her large honey brown eyes had scanned the neat, elongated handwriting once, twice, then thrice. She simply couldn't believe what she was reading.
Cutting a long, fowery letter short, he had claimed that they should give each other a try, stating that opposites attract and that they both needed a break from the cliquey, stereotypical world they lived in.
Hermione had immediately grabbed for some parchment and writing supplies, intending to give him a good lecture on paper.
But then, strangely, a part of her could relate to his letter and really did want to give him a try. And thus began a rather confusing battle of words with herself.
In the end, the part of Hermione that wanted to give him a chance won.
Hermione had made several attempts at writing a leter, but after several hours, had many crumpled balls of parchment littering the carpet around her feet.
Finally, after a long and frustrating five hours, she had composed the perfect acceptance letter.
The unlikely couple had graced the Great Hall the very next morning, shocking everybody, including the professors. Ron and Harry had threatened his life in any harm should come to Hermione.
But after just a few short yet glorious months, trouble had risen in painfully large doses. Word had somehow gotten to Lord Voldemort that his successor and heir was dating a Mudblood. Voldemort thought that "this brilliant and powerful Mudblood Hermione Granger was working for Dumbledore, stealing the poor boy's heart, only to have it broken the moment he let his guard down, therefore ruining my plans". Voldemort had immediately demanded that his Death Eaters kill her, for he wouldn't have anything dirty fooling around with his heir to the throne of the Dark Lord.
He had found out through Snape of the Dark Lord's evil wishes, and had devised a quick way to end the problems.
Break-up and pretend it never happened.
Hermione had felt a heart-wrenching mixture of hurt, anger, and betrayal wash over her in large amounts when he had explained to her the reason they had to split up. She had been stunned to the spot, unsure of what to do, what to say next. How could he do this to me?
Their blossoming relationship had officially ended, and by the next morning, the whole of Hogwarts was buzzing with the news. Vicious rumours began to make their rounds into people's heads, in both ears and out through the mouth. Hermione had been so thankful that that very day was a Saturday. That left her two days to compose herself. She could do it. There was nothing to it, right? She had seen Parvati and Lavander go through relationships like water. They never lingered pitifully at their ex's feet. They moved on. They were strong. They had courage. They were Gryffindors. I am Gryffindor! REOWRR!! I can do this.. I can do this..
He had managed to wriggle her out from under the Dark Lord's hawk-like gaze, stating with all the disgust he could muster that he would never even dream of touching Hermione Granger, let alone dating her. The Dark Lord's sources were probably just looking for some cheap praise. With those words having been said, Voldemort had immediately summoned said Death Eater, who turned out to be none other than Lucius Malfoy. He had witnessed the Dark Lord killing Lucius Malfoy then and there, watching as his father's cold silver grey eyes rolled around to the back of his head before falling to the floor in a limp tangle of arms and legs.
He had been the cause of his father's murder. But he didn't care. At least it wasn't Hermione he had watched die under the vice-like clutches of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
And that was all that mattered.
For the next few months, Hermione had gone on with her life, smiling mechanically all the while, hiding under a porcelain facade that could never belong to her again. She hardly even exchanged glances with him anymore. It hurt too much to even look at him. Whenever she happened to, she felt like her heart was being wrenched out and stabbed repeatedly with thousands of burning needles.
Hermione was jolted out of her reverie by the shushed sound of the portrait-hole opened and closing. Heavy footsteps could be heard approaching her, followed by a cloaked figure making it's appearance in the doorway. Hermione didn't need to look up to see who the disturbance was. She already knew by heart how he sounded, walked, moved.
"Hermione."
Hermione turned her head to fully face the window, watching silently as the fat raindrops splattered against the window pane in a careless fashion. She couldn't look at him. She just couldn't.
"Hermione."
Just ignore him, Hermione.. Just ignore him..
"Hermione.. Please."
Don't listen to him, Hermione warned herself as she let out a small sniff. She felt her eyes filling up with tears.
"Hermione.. Please.. Look at me.."
Don't let him see you cry.. Don't let him see you cry..
"Please, Hermione, look at me!"
Hermione reluctantly turned her head to face him, but stared down at the fitted carpetting.
"Hermione.."
A hand slowly reached out towards her, slowly at first, as if worried that she would get scared and bite. Hermione shut her eyes as a shiver rolled down her spine when long, slender pianist-fingers gently cupped her chin and tilted her head upwards to look at him. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tighter.
"Hermione.. Look at me.. Please.."
Hermione let out a slow, uneven sigh as her eyelids fluttered open.
His hood had fallen back, revealing a head of glossy blond locks that Hermione had loved to run her fingers through. His silvery grey eyes had darkened with emotion and bore deep into hers, clashing silver and brown into a fusion that had sent Hermione over the edge.
"Hermione.."
Hermione willed her tears to go away and tried to smile.
Go on. Put on a facade. Act like your happy. Don't let him see you cry. Just don't let him see you -
-Cry.
At that moment, Hermione Granger's flawless porcelain facade had cracked, revealing the shuddering, weeping little girl it had always hidden.
Hermione burst into tears, releasing all the pent-up anger, frustration, sadness, and hurt that had been bottled up inside her for way too long. She turned away from him to face the window to rub her sleeves against her eyes, willing herself to stop crying. I'm Hermione Granger.. I don't cry.. I can't cry.. I mustn't cry..
"Oh, Hermione.."
He gently wrapped his strong arms around her, hugging her tight. His embrace brought back floods of memories that Hermione would have rather left behind with their failed relationship. His embrace made her feel safe, warm, loved. His embrace took her back to those late nights when they'd wandered out to the Lake and he'd hugged her to him tight, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.
"It's okay, Hermione.. Shh.. It's okay.. I'm here now.."
Hermione pressed herself to him, clenching a fistful of his robes, sobbing into the nook of his shoulder. She could feel him stroking her untamed bush of brown hair, running his hand up and down her spine. He practically radiated comfort, and she could sense that all he wanted to do was make her feel better.
When she had calmed down and had nearly cried all the fluid out of her, he began to whisper in her ear again.
"Hermione.. You of all people should know just how sorry I am for treating you the way I did.."
Hermione froze. Oh, no..
"I never meant to hurt you.. I just wanted to protect you.. I didn't want you to die because.. because of.. me.."
Hermione could hear his voice cracking.. Was he crying? Hermione didn't dare look up and spoil the moment.
"I always thought that I had done the right thing in ending what we had, but that was all a lie.. I was wrong.."
Hermione discreetly wiped her runny nose against her sleeve. Well, as discreetly as she could in that position, anyway.
"I should have never done what I did.. But that's all in the past now.. And as much as I'd like to, I just can't rewrite history.. No matter how much it hurts.."
An image of the time turner she had used in third year danced in her mind. No.. That'd be wrong..
"So I was just wondering.. Hermione.. Would you be my girlfriend.. Again?"
Hermione went rigid in his arms. After several moments of silence, she slowly unstuck herself from his embrace and adjusted her skirt, dusting off imaginary particles of dust from her school tie. He knows that I could never give my heart like that to anyone ever again.. It hurts too much.. It'll just never be the same..
"I.. I.. I can't.."
"You can't? But, Hermione.."
"I just can't.. I've been through more than you could ever imagine.. It hurts to just look at you, you know.. It'll never be the same.."
"I respect your decisions, Hermione, you know that, but I'm sure we could still be happy.. Even with some parts cut out.."
"You could never imagine just how much I want to be with you.. But I could never.. I just.. I don't want to let myself be so vulnerable again.."
"I'll protect you from everything and anything, Hermione.. I swear upon Merlin that I will.."
"I know you will.. I just can't, alright?"
His face fell, butterblond bangs falling into his silvery grey eyes.
Hermione cleared her throat before continuing. "Let's just carry on what we've been doing these past few months. Let's just pretend that our relationship never happened. I think it'd probably just be best if I try to.. forget about you."
Ouch. His eyes filled with masked hurt as he stared up at her.
"We'll go on leading our lives in the directions we want. We'll be perfectly happy with our chosen loved ones."
Draco continued to stare at her, his eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion that struck Hermione's heart so badly. She couldn't believe she was doing this to him.
"And I know that if I give it enough time, I'll soon cease to remember your name. Forever."
At that, Draco took a sharp intake of breath, his eyes widened just a notch. Hermione ignored him.
"I don't know how long it'll take for me to do that. I don't think it's even possible, but I'll try. I will. I'll do everything in my power to carry on without you. You've made me fear rejection, people, and love. And I've been hurt so many times that I've lost count. It's just so unbearable. I have to leave it all behind."
I am not doing this..
"And that includes you."
Finally, he spoke. "You know I'll always love you, Hermione."
"As I will you. I'll just have forgotten who you are."
And with that, Hermione Granger got up and took her trolley bags firmly.
"Goodbye, Draco Aquillis Malfoy," she said, doing all she could to refrain from running up to him and hugging him breathless. "May we never cross paths again."
Hermione gave him a nod before making her way out of the Head Commons, and just like that, made her way out of Draco Malfoy's life forever.
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Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable themes, characters, blah blah blah. It's all JK Rowling's.
Author's Note: YES! I've finished! This is my second one shot that I just felt like writing down really badly. It took me about a good three hours to write this, and I'm actually quite proud of it. I was feeling extremely down in the dumps, so I made my story very saaaadd. I noticed that there's a bit of fluff at the ending, I believe. Oh, well. A little fluff never hurt anyone, right? Right. It was really obvious who "he" was. I dropped as many smack-you-in-the-face obvious clues possible. It's a new writing technique I'm trying out. Like, just reveal the person's true identity right at the end. I hope it wasn't too confusing, some of the sentences that had "him" in it. :) Well, I hoped you all enjoyed this as much as I did writing it! Please read and review to show me you care. ;) Hehe. Ttfn. 'sizzleberrylicious. ♥