The dungeon reeked of the potent fumes rising out of the twenty something cauldrons staggered across the vast room. A single beam of light came from a crack in the curtain; otherwise, a few low candles lit the room so dimly that it was hard for those in the back to see Snape as he lurked behind the students brave enough to chose desks close to the front of the classroom. Hermione slouched over her book, lazily tapping her pen to the meaningless pages. The text was gathering pools of the sticky dark ink, but she hardly noticed. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on a blank spot in the distance, not really looking at anything in particular. Her potion was lacking in texture and though it was a mint green instead of a deep blue, hers was still one of the most accurate in the room. She began to drag her pen around in a figure eight, still not looking at the dirty pages. Out of nowhere, the air around her changed completely and as she sat straight up on the rigid bench, she sensed a pair of eyes on her back. She slowly turned her head, as if to the tune of a deep dramatic drone. In an instant she caught the pale-eyed culprit.
The one ray of light caught a sulky boy in the back of the class. Malfoy sat three rows back, an empty cauldron next to his still closed textbook. His wide shoulders hunched over his crossed arms, and a harsh grimace was plastered on his pale complexion. As soon as Hermione's eyes met his, she shuddered violently but held onto his stare. His thin lips pulled into a snarl, as if to curse her for meeting his hard gaze. Moments passed before he looked down at the table, placing his hands on either side of his head and rubbing his temples. It pained her to see the mixture of agony and disgust on his beautiful face; she couldn't take her eyes off this dark angel. He then stood silently and gestured for Hermoine to follow him as he left the dark room. She sat a moment after he had left, turning back to her black pot. She signed deeply and reached up to her sleek hair, removing the elastic and letting her curls cascade down her back. Making sure Snape was consumed with other students, she threw a handful of ivy and a pinch of boomslang into the cauldron before standing and turning to the door. I must be fucking crazy, she thought to herself as she exited the classroom in a silent hurry.
The hallway was lighter, and it took a moment for her dark eyes to adjust to the sun's rays through the stained glass windows. She couldn't help but admire the beauty of the shining colors, after being trapped in the dungeon for an hour without relief. She looked around to find trace of where he went, then with zero knowledge and a silent fuck it, turned to the left and began walking towards a tall corridor. If she knew anything about Malfoy, she knew to walk away from the light and towards the darkness. Always darkness. Always beauty, but always darkness. A few doors and echoing footsteps later, she was suddenly pulled into a room, Malfoy's slender hand clutched her throat as he pushed her up against the cold stone wall. She didn't scream or struggle, rather let him handle her like a large rag doll. His grey eyes stared into hers for a minute, watching her brows straighten in a dead confusion. She then slowly brought her hand to his, still tightly holding her thin throat. She wrapped her hands around his, and his grip and gaze loosened, allowing her lower his angry hand to her heart. She placed it there and he felt the beat of her heart for a moment, closing his eyes and relaxing his face.
"When are you going to stop torturing me?" Her voice was as flat and dead as her expression.
His eyes snapped open; his lip quivered and he looked away. "I don't… I just don't know what to do anymore."
She craned her neck to meet his stare. "You know me. You know this." She squeezed his hand, still pressed against the beating of her heart. He pulled his hand off of her chest and turned around, taking a step towards a large shelf of unfamiliar bottles. "Do you not want me?" She sounded like a small child, and he turned back to her, his hands on his hips.
"I want you." He turned away again, his brow twisted in agony. "But I'm afraid. Bad things will happen when they find out." He hung his head and glanced at his left arm. Hermoine could see the outline of the dark tattoo through his thin white shirt. He turned to look at her once again, his left hand now clenched in a fist. "I can't protect you from them. No one can."
She pushed herself off the wall and walked to him, placing his head in her hands and staring into his tortured eyes. "This is too hard, Draco. Passing you in the hall, pretending to hate each other, sneaking around people, having to only meet up in secret…" She looked down, feeling the tears welling in her large brown eyes. "I can't keep this up any longer, it's too hard. I want you so badly, it makes me physically sick. I don't care what happens to me, I don't care if they kill me."
Malfoy's head shot up to meet her gaze. A thousand thoughts raced around his head at the thought of his dark friends hurting the girl he loved with every fiber of his being. Images of him holding her mangled body flashed before his eyes and he felt a pit in his stomach so deep that he began to shake. He pushed away from her and walked to the corner of the room. His right hand gripped his forehead, and covered the tear that rolled slowly down his cheek. He had to figure out how to fix this, how to keep her safe. He came face to face with the harsh reality, the painful truth, and he knew what he had to do. He turned to her one last time. She stood, hands gripped across her body, her wide, dark eyes shiny with pain.
"I'm sorry Hermoine. But this isn't worth it for me. I won't see you anymore." His voice was flat and toneless, but she still felt the harsh slap to her body.
"You don't mean that."
"Yes I do. This was fun, but I'm over it." Malfoy had to stare at the stone wall directly behind her head. He couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes anymore.
"No, Draco. I know what you're doing. You're trying to keep me safe bout you can't just abandon me and prevent not to care."
"It's not about that. I just don't care anymore."
"You're lying."
"I'm not. Maybe you should just get over it and move on. I just don't want you… I don't know why anyone would. You're just a filthy mudblood."
Hermoine's hand flew to her mouth, stifling a cry of pain. Tears spilled uncontrollably out of her eyes, and she had to catch the wall behind her to prevent herself from falling to the cold, hard ground. Malfoy flashed his eyes to hers once more before walking past her, and out of the room. He headed down the corridor, trying to keep his face hard as the stone that he knew she was now fallen upon. He passed the class and up the stairs; he wasn't going back to potions. He couldn't. There were too many tears to be seen.