A/n: Another chapter looking at their school lives. This story might be moved to the (M) section but I want to know what you guys think so leave a review so I know ;) Well, enjoy! Thanks to my beta loveinthemadness! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.
Sixth year was going to be a big one and Hermione knew it from the moment she stepped back into Hogwarts. The very likelihood of the school felt tense and a bit strained, as if the historical building itself knew bad things were coming. But that was just a fantasy of an observation from the depths of her mind, and she tried to not pay it too much thought. If she psyched herself out then things could be bad indeed. She needed to be there for Harry and remain level headed.
But that feat was proving difficult. Ron had been giving her the cold shoulder for days now, and just last night had made a very public statement that he had certain feelings for the house slut Lavender Brown. Hurt, she had spent the better part of the night crying- and Hermione Granger never cried. At the very least Harry was there for her.
Maybe there was something to her fantasy thinking. Maybe the school did know bad things were going to happen this year.
She was rushing down the hallway a few days later when she finally gave and collapsed by a window. Finding Ron and Lavender snogging each other's faces off in a broom closet had not been the best thing to see, and even with more important things going on she couldn't deny that it hurt. Just when she was finally ready to make it known to Ron that she did care about him as more than a friend he had to go and muck it up with that airhead of a girl! Hermione couldn't stand seeing them together.
She was drying a few freefalling tears when the shadow of a tall figure overcame her. Thinking it was Ron, she stood and turned to the person, screaming, "Don't even think about talking to me Ronald- Malfoy!?" The blonde was not who she expected to see.
If Draco Malfoy had looked downtrodden last year, then he was on his way to death this time around. There were so many bags under those gorgeous eyes of his that it made him look older than his sixteen years, and his usually shiny, healthy skin seemed to no longer hold a healthy glow. He was usually covered in expensive, impeccable black robes at all times, and that had not changed- only now he seemed a bit thin. Oh, he could still be considered menacing- but he wasn't as terrifying as one would remember. Hermione only remembered a few scarce occasions when he had truly scared her, and now she wasn't sure he could rattle her as much as before- although that really wasn't a bad thing.
"Don't ever mistake me for that ginger twat again!" he snapped, glaring down at her. Merlin, they had met so many times in the last few years under strange circumstances that even they didn't fully understand it anymore. They always found each other one way or the other, and usually things were not peaceful between them. But during fifth year those private meetings had been scarce. With Umbridge running around everywhere and his mind lost on what was happening at his home, he really hadn't gone on too many walks. Fourth year was a different story, and the two events following that dance class were brutal and brought on by him all because he would not be one-upped by her. But times had changed and more pressing matters had come to pass. He couldn't always dally in the ways to torture her. No, he needed to keep his focus on other things- like how to keep his family safe. It was a lot on a sixteen year old's shoulders.
She wiped her eyes again and crossed her arms. "No your right- I shouldn't compare the two of you. I might even like you more than that boy at the moment." She brushed past him and made to leave the deserted area, but his hand gripped her shoulder a second later- there was material between them of course.
"Excuse me, Granger? Are you on something, or did you just say you prefer me to your lover boy?" He spun her around, cool eyes searching the depths of her own.
Hermione shoved him off her arm. "Look Malfoy, I don't owe you any sort of answers, but grow up and refer to Ron as something else than my lover boy. We aren't getting along right now, and that's all I'm saying."
"Trouble in paradise?" he asked, arching a pale eyebrow. Maybe he didn't care for her feelings, but he could always stand getting under the girl's skin.
She huffed. "Something to that extent. Now bugger off Malfoy, I have things to do."
"Sounds more like you want an excuse to get away from me so you don't have to talk about this," he mused, watching her eyes narrow. She really did seem put off by this conversation, but he could care less. He just wanted a rise out of her to entertain himself before he returned to his room. He needed anything at this point that would keep him in good spirits.
"Does it matter?!" she snapped, placing her hands on her hips. "It's a private matter Malfoy, and I will not be discussing it with the likes of you!" Turning on her heel, she stormed away from him, never seeing his smirk.
"Well, Granger," he called to her retreating form, "I must give you credit. For someone who seems to have had their heart crushed, you do a mighty fine job of putting up a good front. What was the name of the girl I saw your sweetheart snogging? And yes, I did see that; one of the more disgusting things I have witnessed in life."
"Stop talking," she said, but her movements had stalled. He smirked, knowing she was on the verge of breaking. She was mad, and he was only fueling her fire. But he couldn't help himself; he wanted to see her snap.
"Why? Does it bother you that everyone else can see them together as well? Remember Granger, the rest of the school can see how you react, even if you yourself cannot. You're hurt, and you hate them both, don't you?"
"How would you know if I feel that way," she growled, "When you yourself never feel anything?"
That statement got him to shut up for a moment. He could feel a great many things, all things that he would never tell her. He liked his icy exterior, for it kept most people away from him. As a child he used it as a form of superiority and gloated to all of his friends. As a teenager and near adult, he used it as a barricade to the real world. With all the things happening in his life, he needed that wall of protection now more than ever. But she wouldn't understand that. She might understand the need to have a way to protect yourself yes, but she would never accept that kind of answer from him. His icy personality would forever give her the illusion of a heartless person, unable to feel anything. If she only knew how wrong she was about him.
But I don't want her to know me that well. I don't want her to know me at all.
"You assume so much Granger," he said at last, crossing his arms to her still turned back. "You assume I feel nothing, but I have to feel something. I wouldn't have left all of those marks on your skin if I didn't get some kind of rise out of it, right? Be it joy, amusement, sadistic love or anger, I had to feel something to edge me on to continue harming you, correct? So do not for a moment assume I feel nothing in this world, for you do not know me at all."
The brunette finally turned at those words, stomping back towards him. He thought she really did have the anger of a child, with her drawn together eyebrows and angry, balled up hands.
"You know what Malfoy, your right!" she hissed, stopping just in front of his towering form. He might not be as intimidating as he once was, but his sheer size remained the same. "You did bruise me, and I will believe you felt something. But guess what? You might like hurting me you might like seeing me squirm just because I am lower than you, but you can't win." She shook a finger at him. "You can't win this game of pain. You've been secretly hurting me for years-"
"I resent that statement Mudblood. If I remeber correctly I saved your neck from my bodyguards when they broke your wrist. Do you recall?"
"Yes I do!" she spat, leveling her eyes with his the best she could. He stood several inches above her, and knew it too. He was attempting to use that height advantage to glare her down and get her to stop arguing, but so far it was not working. "What charming people you associate yourself with Ferret. I'm sure you would've felt oh so much regret if you had arrived a bit later and I was dead."
"Well, I suppose we'll never know, now will we?" He straightened his back, expecting that their little banter would end soon.
"No, we won't," she agreed, watching his eyes. "But I do know this; you've hurt me on more than one occasion to prove a point, now I am going to prove another. You can hurt me as much as you physically want you blonde git, but you can't come out on the top. You can't hurt me emotionally because I don't care for you one bit- I wonder about you on occasion, but I have never cared." She took a step back. "Ron won that top spot."
He said nothing as she turned to go. Her eyes were wet again and he decided that normal female heartbreak he so often saw was setting in again; she would be crying in a moment no doubt. He stood with a tall back and crossed arms as she hurried away, never once uttering a single word. When she was gone, he peered out the window she had been sitting at. It was a strange feeling to be compared to the likes of the Weasel, especially in the sense that the idiotic ginger could actually hurt her worse than he did.
It was unsettling. Harming her was something he did only to get the point through that she was filth, that she need not continue to stand up to him and that he would not allow it. What had started out as the desire to best the other during a dance had become more than he liked to handle. She had insinuated that he liked to harm her, when in fact he didn't like to harm anyone. He didn't like the sight of blood, and although he had a dark mind the idea of harming someone outside of a bruising spectrum was too much for him to handle.
And on top of that, he didn't know the first thing about how to harm someone emotionally. Sure, he knew what it was like to be harmed emotionally as well as physically, but he didn't know how to return what he received. Besides with his mother, Draco had never had an emotional connection with anyone. He didn't do connections, because once you felt that there was a link between you and someone else it set you up to be more vulnerable, and he despised being vulnerable.
Glancing around to be sure no one was coming in his direction; he pulled back the sleeve of his school robes. Hidden beneath the expensive black material- he had his hand made of course- was the Dark Mark. This was a tattoo he could certainly live without, but now that he was tasked with important deeds to fulfill for the dark Lord, he worried that he would forever be answering to that design. Getting the mark was painful, and being called through it was just as bad. He did not like the situation he was in.
His fingers came down to trace the design. Surrounding the intricate work were the remains of wounds- both inflicted on him and self-inflicted- that would mar his skin forever. They didn't reside solely on his arm, and Draco had the dangerous scars of his past to prove that just because he was a Malfoy did not mean he lived a full life of luxury. He had his pains too- not the emotional pains that Granger seemed to have, but physical ones that were probably worse than anything she had ever experienced before.
They might inflict pain on each other occasionally, but they both knew different sorts of pain that the other had never experienced before. They were a strange combination; a strange combination indeed. Draco pulled his sleeve back down. He had a date with a cabinet still, and if he did not find a way to ensure that the Death Eaters could come through the vanishing cabinet, Voldemort would have his head as well as his mother's.
Draco turned and continued on his way. Granger's petty relationship problems were nothing compared to his emotional turmoil over his mother's life, but he couldn't erase her pain from his mind. He had never loved someone, or even liked a person outside of the physical sense and animalistic need. He didn't understand why she hurt so much.
He didn't want to.
The next time they met, it was only a few days later. The corridor was different, but the setting was much the same. He found her instead of the other way around, but this time she was not crying. No, she was firing spell after spell at the unfortunate wall before her.
It took a moment before she ever heard his voice. "What!?" she screamed, turning to glare at him. The blonde was caught off guard at how angry she looked.
"Granger, why are you in such a fit? Oh wait, is it about that Brown girl and your unfortunate ginger friend again?"
"Shut up Malfoy," she seethed, turning to hex the poor stone again. Part of the spell bounced back at them and nearly turned both students green. Fortunately, they had fast reflex skills.
"Oh Granger, you must move past this petty hate. You seem rather angry for your usual calm nature lately, and I must say it is tiresome to come across so much."
She turned to him, pointing her wand as she walked towards him. "Would you just be quiet Malfoy? I came here to get away not to be bothered by you!"
Malfoy held his hands up. "Would you put that thing down? And while you're at it, throw yourself into the floor. It'll hurt and hopefully it will calm you obnoxious temper."
The girl glared at him. "Get out of here Malfoy. You disturbed me the last time I tried to find peace someplace and you will not do it again! Leave me be."
He only smirked before he took a few steps over to her. Stopping in front of the enraged female, he made sure to be extra careful with his wording since he knew he was pulling at dangerous threads. Shoving all his racist thoughts aside for the sole purpose of creeping her out, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She shuddered at his touch.
Hopefully, his next sentence would get her to rethink how awful the redhead was. If he ran across her one more time like this he assumed he would explode and do something stupid. Leaning in close, he breathed on her face, "Don't take his actions so hard Granger. You're letting him win by being so worked up over things, aren't you?"
She was certainly surprised by the words coming out of his mouth. "Malfoy-"
"But don't think he's wrong to move onto the next pretty thing Granger. Men are animalistic, and usually go for the easiest thing they see. Drop your self-respect and I'm sure he'll come running right back."
Her jaw hit the floor and he suppressed a chuckle as he shoved by her. At least she would be stuck thinking about what he was saying she should do for a bit instead of the Gryffindor couple that insisted upon flaunting their relationship in front of everyone. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he gave himself a silent pat on the back. Verbal abuse sometimes did wonders.
A/n: Review? I would love to know what you think!
