A/N: This is a two shot, the second chapter is yet to be written and it just came about by my feeling in a typing and Dramione mood. I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I own nothing.
I Hated Him
By Brown-eyed Wolf
CHAPTER ONE: Weakness
Of course it had to be him. It had to be the boy whom I despised. It had to be the boy who broke hearts every other day. It had to be the most aggravating person I knew. It had to be Draco Malfoy. It had to be, because the world was cruel and unjust. Everything that can go wrong eventually will.
I hated that it was him that I was tied to in this way. I hated that I was linked to him at all. I never wanted to share anything with him, never wanted to have him become my weakness. Because that was what he was, a weakness. I was a strong person, I had faced death, and things that many would consider worse than death, and had survived. In the end none of that could compare to him. He was my undoing. It made no sense, and for that my hatred burned stronger. Why couldn't it be black and white?
Every time, afterwards, I'd curse myself anew. I'd scream in my mind that I was stupid, that I was being illogical, and that I should and would stop. I'd say that that would be the last time. In the last 6 months I've found out that when it comes to this, I never listen to myself. I don't know if I can. It's just too tempting to go back, one more time.
The sweet oblivion that overtook me when I was with him totally drowned out my internal debating, and while in his presence, I was happy. I didn't feel guilt, I didn't feel weak, and I just felt. He would whisper charming things in my ear until my heart hammered loudly in my chest and kiss me until I was sure my lips were bruised. It was a kind of bliss, which is the only way to describe it. He made me feel again, when I was sure I couldn't, and I absolutely loathed him for it. He made me become attached to him. He made me feel this way. He started everything. Everything I didn't want, and now everything I found it so hard to let go of. I was a walking paradox.
I don't try to kid myself that this, whatever it is, is love. I know it is not. I've known him for far too long. I've witnessed him breaking the hearts of girls every day. This is not love to him, no matter what he might whisper in that silken voice of his; and it is not love to me. It is something different. Something I don't want to be a part of, but regardless, I find myself trapped.
Harry and Ron know. In a fit of weakness, in sadness, I divulged the secret. They didn't understand. I don't know why I expected them to, because frankly I didn't understand myself. Still, I thought they'd see how trapped I was. They didn't. To them it was black and white. All I needed to do was stop. That's it, just stop. It sounded so simple, and I'm sure they were thoroughly confused as to why I hadn't thought to just do that before, but they didn't see that I couldn't. It wasn't black and white, it was a shade of pure deplorable gray.
I wasn't a stupid witch, not by any means. I understood perfectly how much of a bad idea fraternising with the enemy was, and I understood it couldn't and wouldn't lead to anywhere good. However, knowing that something isn't good for you, and doing something about it are two very drastically different things.
So, when Tuesday rolled around again, I left my common room at precisely 11:11 and snuck out into the halls. I made my way silently through the familiar school and headed to the place I had visited so often, the Room of Requirement. This was out meeting place. The perfect meeting place at that. He was always there before me, always laying on the bed that filled up most of the room, his chest bare as he waited patiently.
I walked in silently, gently closing the door behind me. Before I could turn around he was standing, directly behind me as I faced the door. His slow breathing was hot on my neck, and a hand rose and stroked my hair aside. He placed a burning kiss on my shoulder, and whispered, "I've missed you, Hermione." I don't reply and he doesn't expect me to. I just simply turn around and get lost in the peaceful oblivion that he provides.
When all is said and done hours later, I stand with my back to him and get ready to head back to my Common Room. He sighs, and rises too. He tries to distract me, delay me. The words he coos in my ear I know so well I could recite them. "I hate it when you have to leave." I look up into his stormy eyes, and think I hate you for making me weak. He kisses me, one last time, only once. It's gentle, sweet, and I can feel him smiling. As I back away, clasping my hands behind me, he says, "Sweet dreams, beautiful." I smile, a reflex reaction. The goodbyes are always the same, a script that has been rehearsed to perfection for months. I whisper, "Goodnight," and leave. It's over, and the mental assault begins again until next Tuesday, when the cycle starts once more.
However, this cycle isn't like the others. After I close the door, and block him from my view, I don't just leave. The script is being altered, and it's changing everything that has become so familiar.
A/N: The second chapter, as I have already meantioned is yet to be written. I'm in need of some idea's of what should happen, so if you could tell me what you would like to happen, it'd be extremely helpful.
Do you think Draco will have a change of heart? Will Ron be standing outside the room when Hermione leaves? Will Peeves catch them and shout it out to the whole school? I would really love some of your ideas, and who knows, you may see your ending being written! So, with that, I leave you.
Much love, Brown-eyed Wolf!
*Howling in the distance* (It's just my thing.)