They're J.K. Rowling's.
We tried it. Two years out of Hogwarts. Draco and I, that is.
It was an... interesting time to say the least. It was a few months, at the very most. We were on and we were off, and we were essentially all over the place.
I nearly lost Harry and Ron both in the midst of all of it.
No one understood. I'm not even sure we did. There was just this entirely inexplainable connection; some sort of draw that made absolutely no sense.
He was borderline evil, and I let him be. I retaliated some, but mostly took it. From what I gathered, he liked it that way. I was less of a threat to him when I just gave in. There was less of a chance for me leaving.
We ended, eventually. I don't even remember who broke it off with whom that final time. We were just suddenly stopped, and I was confused, and he was gone. Moved to another city.
I didn't have to worry about the arguments anymore, and I didn't have to worry about the insanity, and I didn't have to worry about coming back to him over and over even though we all knew he wasn't good for me.
He once told me he got to know people with the explicit purpose of hurting them later if they got too close. I watched him do it time after time, to Harry, to Ron, to Luna, to Ginny... and I let him.
He was honest to a complete fault, and most hated him. It was like dating Voldemort himself in young wizard form, and I was at a complete loss.
But I stayed.
He was just so cold and so calculating, and so cruel to everyone for all his own, selfish reasons.
He once admitted he was emotionally abusive. He knew he was. So did I.
Yet he couldn't stop, and I was attracted.
I was attracted, and I didn't know why.
Something in that coldness, and that calculated sense of control over every aspect of human emotion...
I envied him.
I wanted that. From that day when I found myself submitting to those petty emotions and ending up face to face with a mountain troll, I wanted that.
It was like he just had this part of him that spoke directly to this part of me that I never let show. Some sort of rebellion within myself I was always too controlled to let loose.
The sick, twisted girl within. The one who thought they all deserved everything that was coming to them. The one who had always wanted to do exactly what he did but never had the guts. The one who wanted to fight back.
That cold, hard exterior.
Those cold, emotionless eyes.
That amazingly strong wall that just came up without notice at the drop of a hat, any time he felt threatened.
I envied Draco Malfoy. Admired him, even.
I still do.
He's gone, now.
Gone to whereever it was he went when he left.
I won't ever see him again.
I'm just left here to wonder.
It's been three years to the day since he left. He didn't leave a note. He didn't leave a message. I haven't seen his owl, and I haven't heard a word from anyone concerning him.
Maybe I'm just better off not knowing.
He's this cold, haunting part of my past, and I still shiver in response to his name.
I don't know if it's a good shiver or a bad shiver. I try not to think about it.
Yet there was something, somewhere in him, deep within all that pureblooded and smirking exterior... something almost human.
Or perhaps that was just another part of his act.
Perhaps that was just his way of getting to know me. So he could hurt me once I hurt him.
And I did.
And so did he.
And now he's gone.
Perhaps I'll never know.
Perhaps it's better this way.
A knock resounded on Hermione's door. Sighing, she stood to answer, dropping her quill and shaking her head to clear all the thoughts.
She stood there for a moment after opening it, her mouth formed in a soundless O.
Cold gray eyes met hers.
A wordless embrace.
Then, one word:
"Draco."
A/N: Short, but quite possibly one of the more truthful ones of these two. If I get enough requests, I might try for a chapter two. As written, though, it's a oneshot.
A little out of my normal comfort zone, but yeah. Let me know what you think.
