Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this chapter as you can see because they all belong to J. K. Rowling. The plot is obviously my own or else it's called plagiarism and I would be kicked off Fanfiction after only just joining.
A/N: So far, I don't really have any solid ideas of where this story is heading, only vague plot-bunnies nibbling at me here and there. So any suggestions are welcome. This chapter is basically Malfoy's perspective on the events (or lack of events) in the previous chapter. I assure you, something is actually going to happen after this so hang in there.
Chapter 2: Appreciating Hate
Swoosh. Clatter. Swipe. Swoosh. Clatter. Swipe. Swoosh. Clatter. Swipe.
It was fascinating the way how simple an object could move with such sophistication. The gold-inlaid feathered quill twirled elegantly in his hand, seeming to have a life of its own. His initials D.M glittered in the fading beams of sunlight that shone through the dusty library windows. Draco sighed lightly; there was nothing to do, nowhere to go and nobody to talk to – as usual.
He should really do something, Draco mused; it was their project after all. But it was just too much work; it would benefit him much more to stay like this and let Granger do all the work. It wasn't as if she would outright voice her objections. She didn't want to speak to him at all – she didn't want to be the first one to break the silence.
Draco saw the way she made her annoyance known; the little huffs of exasperation, poorly concealed glares and the regular rolling of her eyes. Really, it was just too easy to irritate her. A tossed taunt there and a self-satisfied smirk was all it took for her miniscule body to swell with anger and her eyes to glitter with ire. Oddly enough, it was always a comforting sight to see Granger react in that way. At least something was still normal in his life.
And the silence – it was becoming really uncomfortable, even though he would never admit it. He looked up to see Granger gazing at him intently – studying him; almost measuring him. It was quite unnerving, her contemplative gaze. She had never done anything like that before – and for the life of him, Draco never wanted that to happen again.
It was as if she was trying to figure him out – like he was a mystifying code that she would stop at nothing to decipher. Frankly, it was scaring him. Nobody had ever had the gall to do what she was doing now – but then again, nobody had ever had the gall to punch him either. Draco felt like squirming, but everything he was went against it – Malfoys did not squirm, especially not because some girl was looking at him. The fact that the girl was Granger definitely made no difference. None at all.
Draco decided to take action, "Why Granger, I always knew you had a thing for me – but I'm afraid you'll have to keep your hands to yourself, and your eyes for that matter. Even if I was taken, I think it would suffice to say that you're a little too domineering for my tastes."
Predictably, her honey-brown eyes narrowed in indignation at him and opened her mouth to retort.
"Domineering? Domineering? You think I'm Domineering? How ridiculous! If you want domineering, just look in the mirror at your lousy no good self! That's domineering! The way you look down your nose at everyone just because you think you're so good and order all your little Slytherin minions around. They would wipe your pale placid ass if you ordered them to – and with your laziness, I wouldn't be surprised if they did."
He had to hand it to Granger – she came up with the some of the most inventive comebacks, for a Gryffindor that is. She was the only person who could give him such an entertaining time arguing. Potter and Weasley were all fists and brawn – no intelligence in their pea-sized brains at all. Draco didn't know what she saw in them, much less how she could consider them her best friends. Those so-called best friends only ignored her most of the time and begged her to do their homework.
Draco smiled back at her smugly, getting back into the argument, "I'm astonished Granger, that you could come up with such a wonderful suggestion. I'll try it out tonight – see if it works as well as you say. I'll give you full credit for the development too if it works. Then again, you should really try it too – I'm sure Potty and the Weasel would love to comply."
Granger's eyes lit up with rage and she seemed to grow significantly in stature; much like a cornered cat, Draco mused. "You know what, why don't you just crawl back to whatever hole you came out of with your little girlfriend Parkinson and do me a favour and die!"
"I'm afraid I can't make any promises – I'm not sure about Parkinson, but a Malfoy's word is always has to be upheld."
- And with that, they were done. He had won. She had lost. It was as simple as that – and they went back to ignoring one another. Draco couldn't help the feeling of disappointment that welled up within him – Granger may not have been the best person to communicate with, but she sure was good to take out his frustration on.
Granger was a great study of contradictions, Draco noted absently. She was usually a know-it-all bookworm – a perfect little prefect; a model of everything virtuous. Yet Draco knew that there was more to her than she cared to reveal or even admit to herself. He knew that it definitely wasn't her studious self, but something underneath that façade, that had allowed her to be provoked into punching him (and breaking his nose) that fateful day in third year.
Granger always appeared to be so happy and dandy in front of her friends. She always had a calm dispossession and displayed airy confidence in class. The teachers adored their little prodigy and the students looked up to and loved their Gryffindor princess. Many of the Slytherins, all high and mighty sitting on their pureblooded behinds, also grudgingly admired her – even though they would sooner welcome torture than confess it.
But away from the public's eye, some of Granger's confidence would waver. She would sit in her solitude and study the day away in an isolated corner of the vast Hogwart's Library. Occasionally, when silently passing her in the dim hallways, she seemed to him to be weary to the bone and almost burdened.
Draco shook himself out of his reverie and with a grunt he lifted his feet from the library table and conjured up a piece of parchment. He might as well begin to help Granger with their Charms project. Flitwick had confirmed his suspicions that he had lost his marbles by pairing them together – but then again, Draco thought that the short professor was certainly reaching the time for retirement. New blood wouldn't hurt, and neither would younger blood; some much younger blood. And Binns; if Flitwick was already old enough, Binns must have been ancient.
Granger glanced up at him, and with a raised eyebrow and a surprised look on her face, resumed working. She obviously never expected Draco to work with her – nobody expected anything of him anymore, not even himself. But you never knew what might happen in the company of Granger all year, he thought wryly, she could even convince him to do some real work as unlikely as it was.
But she would most probably burst before any significant progress could be made and attempt to curse the living daylights out of him in a towering rage. Draco was had to swallow his pride to admit that he probably wouldn't be able to best Granger in a formal duel, which was obviously one of the saddest things that he had ever been forced to acknowledge. Not many people would have been able to and that was the way he wanted it to be.
He felt no small amount of bitterness that for all his life, his achievements were unknown and not acknowledged while Granger's were. Okay, she belonged in the 'Golden Trio' – so what? He grudgingly recognized that helping to save the Philosopher's stone, fighting against Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries debacle two years ago as well as defending Hogwarts against the aggressive attack last year was no small feat. But wherever she was, there were always friends to help – people who stood beside her.
He had always been alone. It was always 'Did you hear? Harry Potter was the youngest seeker in over a century!' What about the second youngest? Despite popular opinion, he didn't buy his way onto the team like Granger mockingly suggested. Just because his father had money and influence didn't mean he couldn't do anything himself. That had always been a sore point for him.
Nobody knew exactly what happened last year either. If he wasn't entirely willing to 'do his duty' to the Dark bloody Lord at the beginning of the year, by the end of the year, he hadn't wanted to have anything to do with him at all. It had all changed when they took his mother as a hostage. Although she was outwardly snobby and cold, Draco knew that she loved him. She was the only person who meant anything to him anymore. And she would die; she would have died if he didn't compromise the many young lives of the Hogwarts students.
He may have looked up to his father in his youth, but as he spent more and more time away from the man, change had been inevitable. He could pinpoint the exact time when his final decision had been made about the Dark Lord – it had been during the Holidays. He could remember everything about that night – everything. The fear, the all-consuming terror, the violence – No! He quickly suppressed the memories. Better not to remember it. He had promised not to dwell on it any longer.
It wouldn't do to let Granger see anything behind the wall. As he surfaced from his thoughts, he was surprised to find that the sun was setting – bathing their table in the blood-red glow of dying embers. He looked outside at the Hogwarts grounds, shimmering in the dappled light, and he felt her reach out to him. Hogwarts seemed worried about him. Draco reassured her that he was fine – and felt her sigh and give him a soft caress before leaving him again.
Hogwarts was sentient – that was very obvious. To Draco, Hogwarts had gradually become his home. When he was confused and lost about what to believe – when he slowly drifted away from his father, Hogwarts was there to calm him. She was like the protector that Draco had never had. She worried and doted and comforted him. She was always there. When he had shut himself off from her last year, Draco had noticed her worry and frustration. She had badgered him for over half a year before she finally gave up – and just became a constant hovering presence. He ignored her and she was hurt.
In reality, Draco was simply too ashamed and afraid of once again 'talking' to the castle he had betrayed. It was true though, he had betrayed her. It had taken him until three weeks into the new school year to work up enough courage to talk to Hogwarts again. He thought of actually admitting what he was doing was just made everything seem so terrifyingly real. It would make him see the gravity of the situation – how large and serious his decision was. When he did realize what he had done, it had been too late to change anything – he was too far along in the plans to do anything but stand aside and watch everything culminate and fall into place.
When Draco had once again tried to talk Hogwarts, he realized somehow that she understood everything that he had done even if she didn't condone his actions. When nobody else did, she had understood him – and had gone one step further by forgiving him. He didn't ask her and she didn't say it, but he knew. And for the first time since last year, he had been glad. Bitter, weary and scared, but glad nevertheless. Despite popular opinion, Draco, like everyone else, needed someone to trust in him, believe in him and support him, and Hogwarts did just that.
Draco vaguely noted that Hermione had ceased writing a while ago and was packing up her bags. She proceeded to give him a long, hard look. It was unreadable. Draco took this as a cue that this study session was over and began to collect his parchment and books. He was slightly unsettled by her look but ignored the feeling, opting to ask her about their next session. "Same time, same place, tomorrow?"
A curt "Fine" came as Granger's reply as she shouldered her bag and walked out of the library without a backwards glance.
Hermione Granger was an enigma, Draco decided as he swept back to his Slytherin dorms. She was an enigma that never failed to capture his attention, no matter at what time. It was amusing really – their relationship. He hated her – Draco had made that fact clear to her over the years. He hated her with every fibre of his being – hated her with an unnatural intensity that had only deepened every time he saw her. His hate was about the only constant in his life in the past few years.
So the one thing that Draco hated beyond all else had also been the one thing that was keeping him sane the tapestry of lies that was his teenaged life – a lighted beacon in an all-consuming storm, if you would. Draco snorted at the image – more like a burning, raging fire that would burn your hand off immediately after you navigated through the murky waters surrounding it. But, he had hung onto his hate as if his life depended on it last year. There was also the not so trivial fact that something drew him to her – something that simmered beneath her perfect little girl persona.
Draco was fascinated by her yet disliked her at the same time. The fact that he wasn't repulsed by Granger because of her blood or any other shit that his father had drilled into him since his childhood disturbed him slightly. He hated her because of some completely irrational reason – it was something that even he hadn't been able to identify since the day he had first met her. That in itself was a mystery – he had never before judged anyone solely on first sight.
By no means was his hate an all-consuming hate that Voldemort had for Potter, but it was a steady feeling that always followed him, wherever he saw her. Draco could always feel a maliciousness rising up in him when he saw her. He always had the urge to pepper her with derogatory comments and his cool temper would suddenly inflame. Even when he was feeling vaguely happy, which wasn't often, he would always react around her. It was simply inexplicable. Draco had decided that long ago.
Yes, theirs was a twisted relationship indeed. The funniest thing was, Granger didn't know it; she hadn't ever been able to see just how important she was to him last year – but then, who would. He never went about insulting her in public anymore, but made do with hating her silently – it was much more satisfying to imagine her reaction and him coming out the victor in their little bantering session anyway. Besides, there was always that mudblood, pureblood thing and all that rot.
But one thing was for sure, Draco decided as he lounged on his bed – the day Granger uncovered this little secret of his was the day his whole world would go up in flames.
A/N: Second chapter done! I didn't think I would update so quickly, but the fact that its holidays helps. What did you think?
