You Dropped Your Books Nerd:: Chapter 2-Fidelity
larrythestapler
A/N: Thank you to all my alerters and reviewers! I've never gotten so many a day, and you guys really made my day! (I was having this incredibly crappy week...) This might be longer than I expected, but I'll try my best to alter it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
The day ironically went on without Hermione's emotional consent. The sun stood brilliantly, unaware of the hurt and pain suffered by the brown-haired girl. She felt violated, and chills ran through her heart, spreading to all of her body. Tears, she could no longer rely on, with the pain of the numbness conflicting for her body. The smell of his drunken breath still lived in her mouth, and the sole of her chastity was gone forever. Hermione stopped in the middle of her tracks and took a seat on an irregularly shaped rock. The young seventeen year-old felt no urge to return to her dorm; she was late for class anyway.
***
Hermione walked herself to the free clinic outside of Hogsmeade. Snow had returned, and an icy weakness lingered in Hermione's heart. The wind whispered in her ears, resonating the cold tone of its foreboding voice. A week had passed since the incident, and the feeling of violation never left her. Her mind had eased back slightly to its original state, but the numbness and shock never left. She felt no need to continue in life, and skipped classes and meals often since it had brushed its cold hands on her. Whenever food entered her mouth, a sharp sting of alcohol and vomit and tears condimented her food. She no longer showed up at events, but spent most of her days in the dorm rooms or library in a corner, distracting herself with a book, and keeping a jackknife near her side. Magic, it never came to her defense anymore. No longer could she rely on such an absurd force. Now she was at the clinic, hoping for a stick to turn yellow.
"Prince, Tina?" Hermione rose. She had taken her mother's maiden name, in hopes and fears. She walked toward the door as a nurse assisted her to a small clinic room. The nurse handed her a cup and a pregnancy test. As the perky nurse was about to close the door, a young male interrupted her, carrying a stack of beige folders.
"Ellen, where do these files go?" A young volunteer asked. He was handsome, young, but his eyes were stone cold. He was Draco Malfoy, and Hermione let out a small gasp.
"To the brown cabinet, Mr. Malfoy," she sternly replied. Hermione looked away, in fear of being caught. She eyed the bright pills to her side warily. Prozac...As she reached to open the orange bottle, the nurse opened the door once again. The falsely sincere nurse came in and locked the door for Hermione, as she spoke sharp words to Draco's ears.
What the hell is he doing here? He can't know. No one can know. Hermione reached for the thin white stick that would ultimately decide her fate.
Her hand shook as she held the little white stick. The indicator turned green, bright yellow, chartreuse. But a feeling of relief stole her as it turned yellow once again. A feeling of relief came upon her, as she rejoiced to the fact that nothing was growing inside of her, especially not conceived from it. Still, she felt wounded and empty-minded. A clinic doctor entered, and interrogated her about the incident, words spewing out of his mouth. Everything was mute, but her guilty heart beat steadily. A shallow sadistic whisper played in her ear, and she felt coolness on her skin.
Little did Hermione know that Draco Malfoy stayed outside the door the entire time.
***
Draco perused the Forbidden Forest. The sense of adventure in early morning calmed him, as he made way through the bushy plants and tall trees. The fresh air opened his senses, and an enigma of solitude overwhelmed him, not in a bad way. He remembered Hermione at the Muggle clinic. He still felt the wrath of her damaged beauty, the way her soft wheat hair fell to her scarf, and the flushed gaze of her azure eyes. He had fallen in love at first punch when Hermione gave him a bloody nose in their third year together. It seemed as if she knocked some sense into him after all. Draco grew tired of ditzy girls pursuing him; Granger had brains and confidence. But a sentiment of damage reflected off of her the last time he saw her, and he grew curious.
His reverie stopped midtrack when he saw an injured silvery bird lying on the cold muddy floor under a slim, silver tree. Draco picked it up, and her weak chirps coming from it. He gingerly picked it up and wrapped it in a silvery cloth. Its wings were wounded by green glass. Draco sighed, and silently reprimanded the raucous party goers.
Reprimanded? Since when did Draco Malfoy become so sensitive?
Party goers. Thinking of party goers, he gazed at group of adolescents above the hill to the castle. Pushed to a tree, he saw a redheaded girl caress a bespectacled boy as they shared a long kinky kiss in the cloudy morning. Oh.
***
His eyes softened to see her through the crowd. He impulsively pushed through the queue of students and after a few pushes found a limping Hermione Granger walking toward the Gryffindor dormitories. Something urged him to help her. A hidden instinct of protectiveness overcame his body; the slicked-haired blond felt a connection between the silvery bird and the broken-smiled girl.
"Hey. Granger, do you need help?" Draco said in a froggy voice, trying to walk coolly past Hermione. He was offering help, and even more shamefully, a nonpureblood. Hermione cocked an eyebrow as he pulled the books from her arms. Grabbing them back, she accidentally pushed him to the floor.
"Why are you helping me, you jerk?" Hermione mused in a monotonous tone. She pulled her books back to her arm as Draco lifted himself off the floor.
"You're nuts, to carry that many books. I thought I could help," Draco argued.
"Yeah, you can go help my--" The bell rang as Hermione marched away from Draco.
"Mudblood, the bell rang. You're going to be late for class. What are you doing, going back to the dorms?"
"Stuff," Hermione mumbled. A curiosity rang within her, as she became suspicious as of why the cocky seventh year helped her. He always seemed so flashy and intact; she doubted had any problems to deal with. He was no more than a rich pretty boy, walking the campuses with pride and gut. So cynically, a wary Hermione conjectured one of two things. One, he was planning to kill her, two, he was going to abuse her body like the way it did. The latter would not make sense, so she assumed a cowardly Draco with a Death Eater father would do the previous.
"At least let me help you," he whispered.
"Fine. You'll be a no good truant too. I hope you're SATISFIED," she screamed angrily as she pushed the books into his arms. And he was, as he carried the leather books to the girl dormitories.
The walk was a silent one, a stretch of estranged silence broke them apart, leaving the walk cold and irritating. Milestone after milestone, a blankness of minds ensued. They passed Harry and Ginny kissing near the empty classrooms and Hermione covered her face with one of her many books as she made her way to her room.
They finally reached the common rooms. Hermione pulled her books back and mumbled a thank you. And Draco pulled the nerve to say what he had on his mind.
"You seem pissed. Are you okay?" Draco asked with a cocked eyebrow. "Jilted by Potter? I saw Weasley's twit sister snogging him this morning. I've always suspected that whore. Er, well, we just passed them, but this morning..."
"It could just be YOU." Hermione said, irritated. But her heart leaped. That fast. Her heart silently yearned for Harry. She had missed the warmth of his perfect embrace. But never could she scratch out the cold memory of the dark night before as his cold lips pressed against hers, pressuring the life out of her psyche as he stole her purity forever. Draco let out a long sigh. Hermione finally "Why do you want to help me?"
"I dunno. Luck then, Granger." Draco made his way out without a further comment when Hermione paused as he reached for the door.
A sentiment overwhelmed her. It was not suspicion, but rather, trust. Something about Draco forced her to open up.
And then Hermione blurted what was in her mind the entire time. She could not hold the secret no longer, as it tore her mind and innocence apart. Those three little words finally came out of her mouth. Crisply, dryly, Hermione said them out loud.
"I was raped."
A/N: Perhaps with a little magic, she just might switch? :) (I don't own Music and Lyrics).