A/N: Welcome back readers! Thank you for all your wonderful comments, private messages and reviews for that last chapter. I'm so pleased you like where this is going! Ready for some more? Are you sure? -grins- The Holiday's are over, my friends. Oh boy, are they ever... WARNING: The Melancholy Fairy visited me and stayed awhile when I wrote this. Blame her! And don't worry, there's still some fluffiness added for taste. :) Please read and review!
Enjoy!
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"Planning on attaching yourself as a permanent fixture to that desk or may I have your permission to lock up my classroom, Mr. Malfoy?"
I looked up slowly from my seat, my hand frozen around a quill as though poised to write, my potions book unopened and laying before me. Everything seemed hazy and I barely recognized the (now quite annoyed) voice addressing me and who it belonged to.
"Mr. Malfoy," the voice said again impatiently.
I stared.
"MR. MALFOY!!"
That did it.
I shuddered and shook my head, the quill falling from my fingers and onto the floor as I blinked several times to clear my vision. Professor Snape stood before me, his eyes glaring with complete annoyance. Arms crossed in front of his chest, he waited for me to speak, but when I tried, my mouth felt as dry as a desert wind; I grunted.
Snape rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Charming. Have you quite finished or is there more to this fascinating conversation?"
"Sorr-," I began, coughing to clear my throat. "Sorry, Professor."
I stood up, quickly gathering my things, stuffing them into my book-bag and throwing the thick leather straps over my shoulder. I quietly wondered how long I had been sitting there and how long Potions class had been over. There was no one else in the classroom and the sounds coming from the hallway suggested that large groups of people were starting to head towards the Great Hall. Hastily running my fingers through my hair I took a deep breath and turned to walk out the door when Snape called me back, the tone of his voice tired and annoyed.
"Mr. Malfoy, my classroom is not your personal storage space."
I turned around again and stared at him blankly. Taking great pains to try and control his growing frustration, he unfolded his arms and pointed at the floor and then the desk with the tip of his wand.
My quill was lying at his feet, my green and silver scarf hung over the back of my chair; evidently, I had forgotten to pick both up in my haste to leave.
Snape waited as I collected my things, the tip of one his large black shoes tapping slowly on the cold floor. I hurriedly tied the scarf around my neck and stuffed the quill in the front pocket of my bag before turning and heading out. I could hear Snape muttering something as the door slammed behind me. I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger and followed the rest of the students into the Great Hall for supper.
As I walked along I quietly scolded myself for being so distracted. Stuffing my hands in the pockets of my robes I was determined to stop thinking about the fact that I had not seen Hermione since we arrived back at Hogwarts, the day before.
We had boarded the train at King's Cross separately, holding hands on the platform until the last possible moment. As Head Boy and Girl of our respective Houses, we had the duty of accounting for every student that returned, and as the chimes of the main clock of the station rang out in a somber tune, platform nine and three quarters was transformed into a hub of activity, leaving no time to steal one last kiss from Hermione's lips.
As soon as her delicate hand left mine, I felt cold again. She rushed away from me to the front of the train where her students were gathering, and I watched her, willing time to rewind so that we were back in the safety and warmth of her bed, her soft skin pressed against my own, and the sweet sighs that spilled from her mouth flowing over me like warm honey.
The train ride itself proved to be unbearable. I took my usual seat in the cabin, leaning my head against the ice cold glass of the window and watching the frigid rain of London give way to the heavy snow of the mountains. Every inch of the landscape was covered in a thick layer of white. I closed my eyes and pictured the way these same mountains would look in the spring; endless fields of soft green grass, purple seas of fresh lilacs and dark brown earth at the foot of every tree. It was all there hidden underneath the frozen snow. I couldn't help but compare it to the new relationship Hermione and I had formed.
Loud chattering from Crabbe and Goyle coupled with incessant high pitched laughter from Pansy Parkinson had awoken me from my daydream. I rubbed my eyes and got up from my seat to do my mandatory 30 minutes checks on the students. Pansy had linked her arm through mine when my eyes were closed; I didn't even notice she had done so until I stood up and she tried to follow me out into the walkway. All it took was one glaring look and she immediately sat back down, frowning at me but not asking any questions. Crossing one leg over the other and folding her arms, she pouted and I couldn't walk away fast enough.
Pansy and I had carried an unspoken agreement: no strings attached. There was a time when she provided me with all the physical contact I craved. There were no soft kisses or eager sighs. With Pansy there was only one goal. Occasionally she would forget, and I would have to remind her that there was nothing between us except skin. There never would be. Merlin, that was never truer than now.
I strolled down the corridor, peeking into the compartments making sure my Slytherin House wasn't creating too much mischief. All was quiet and uneventful, for once. Everyone was tired and melancholy that the Holiday's were over; I understood that feeling perfectly.
I reached the end of the train cars and shivered inside my robes; one of the windows was open just a sliver and the frigid air whistled through the glass, ruffling the tips of my hair. I stood there, staring out into the world of white; the sky was dull and grey, mirroring my mood. I wasn't sure how long I had been standing there, or how long Harry had been standing behind me before I noticed his reflection in the glass.
We watched each other for a minute, the silence broken by the train whistle blowing as we rapidly approached a tunnel. I took a deep breath, my lungs stinging as the razor sharp cold air seeped into my chest. Turning to meet his icy glare, the over head lights began to flicker and spring to life one by one from the front of the train, casting each compartment in a sickly yellow tinted glow as it plunged into the darkness of the tunnel. The white world faded away behind us. The light above our heads hummed and flickered and now the only reflection I saw was of myself in his thin black rimmed glasses.
"We need to talk," he said slowly.
I didn't answer him right away. A lump was forming in my throat, my heart pounding in anticipation. I quickly recalled having a fleeting moment of hope earlier in the day, my mind imagining this very same inevitable confrontation; like a fool I had truly believed there was a chance it would all pass and end well, the battle I had prepared for never arriving.
God, I was an idiot.
Harry stood like a rock in front of me waiting for me to speak, to move, to do something.
"We need to talk. Now," he repeated, his voice dark and low.
There was no emotion on my face as I nodded towards an empty compartment and walked in after him, sliding the door closed behind me. The lock clicked into place and we sat down opposite one another. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind. He did this several more times before rubbing his face with his hands in a frustrated motion.
"I need to know everything," he said finally.
I paused before responding. "What has she told you?"
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as though whatever Hermione had told him had just been confirmed and sealed in stone.
"She's told me enough." His green eyes glanced up at me, demanding answers. "I want to hear it from you."
I looked away from his piercing glare and stared at my hands; the overhead lights flickered again as the train emerged from tunnel. We were getting close to Hogwarts. The sky had turned from a dull grey to a menacing charcoal and it was snowing, the blustery winds banging against the cars of the train creating loud bangs and pops as we sped along.
"What do you want to know?" I asked, my voice flat and monotone.
Harry settled back in his seat and stared out the window, watching the world go by in a haze of grey.
"Is it a game?" he asked, his eyes focused on the passing view.
I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean, Potter?" I asked with a tinge of annoyance in my voice.
"Is it...a game...?" he repeated softly.
I shook my head in confusion. "I don't understand what you mea-"
"Is it a game!!" he shouted, suddenly on his feet and towering over me. "Hermione Granger's stuck at Hogwarts for the Holidays, let's see how far I can push her!"
"You're mad," I replied, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Am I?" he asked furiously, grabbing me by the collar of my robes to lift me up from my seat and throw me against the window. "Then tell me! Tell me how I'm supposed to believe that my best friend is in love with the most vile and cruel person I know!" He pushed me again, the back of my head banging against the frozen glass of the window. "Tell me how I am supposed to accept that you've been with her, in her home, in...in...IN HER BED FOR THE PAST 2 DAYS!!!"
His grip on my collar was so tight I began to gasp for air. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him reach into his robes with his free hand and pull out his wand. He pressed the tip underneath my chin, jabbing it roughly into my skin. Struggling for breath, I looked deep into his eyes. "Do it. Isn't that what you really want? You finally have a reason to. Here's your chance."
Harry's green eyes darkened. "Don't push me, Malfoy," he growled in between clenched teeth.
My heart pounded in time with the sound of the train's wheels racing over the tracks. "It wasn't a trick," I said in a strangled voice. "None of what's happened over the past 4 days has been a trick."
He glared at me over the bridge of his glasses, bruising the thin skin underneath my chin as he pressed the tip of his wand harder against me. He spoke very slowly, very deliberately as the train rounded the last curve and rapidly approached the Hogwarts Station.
"Why should I believe you? Give me just...one...reason."
"I love her," I whispered. "That's the only reason."
He held me against the window for another moment before letting me go, a look of disgust in his eyes. I fell to my knees gasping for breath, coughing and sputtering on the ground.
"Harry."
Ron's voice cut through the thick tension in the air. He was standing in the doorway of the compartment his lips pressed together in a thin line.
"Time to go, mate. We're here."
Harry quietly put his wand away inside of his robes again, his hands visibly shaking. My breathing had finally slowed to a normal rhythm again and I stood up slowly, the collar of my robes wrinkled and my tie askew.
Ron took Harry's elbow, gently leading him out into the corridor. He looked over his shoulder at me for a few moments, his eyes seeming to search mine for some sort of truth, some tiny shred of hope glimmering in his eyes. It was then I knew he had heard me say that I loved Hermione.
The train finally slowed and came to a complete stop, the engine hissing as Ron and Harry turned and left, leaving me alone with only my thoughts. Everything after that had been a haze of automatic actions and responses. By the time I entered my room at the end of the day, I could scarcely remember how it was I had gotten there, or what I had done for the past several hours.
The only thought my mind could wrap itself around was the fact that I had not seen Hermione's face since we had boarded the train and that I would not be sleeping in the peaceful warmth of her arms when the day was over.
I didn't sleep at all last night. Not one minute.
"Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?"
I was shaken out of my thoughts by Professor McGonagall's voice. It took me a moment to realize my surroundings. At some point during my walk to the Great Hall with all the other students, I had stopped and leaned against the cold stone walls of the hallway, lost in my memories. Everyone was already inside and seated; a few students rushed past us, apologizing to McGonagall with their eyes for their tardiness.
"Yes," I croaked. I cleared my voice. "Yes. I'm fine. Sorry, Professor."
"That's fine, that's fine. Come then, everyone is seated and waiting," she said, bristling away.
I followed, the sounds of excited chattering growing louder as I entered the Hall, my heart pounding in my ears. Pansy immediately stood up as soon as she saw me and waved me over to my usual spot at the Slytherin table. With as much will power as I could muster, I fought the urge to frantically scan the crowd for Hermione. My knees were weak by the time I had reached the table, and I sat down quickly, grateful that my back was to the Gryffindor table directly behind me.
"Where have you been?" Pansy asked, reaching out to brush a stray lock of blonde hair from my forehead.
I halfheartedly shooed her away, but she only giggled, smiling and looping her arm through mine.
Dumbledore stood up to address us and welcome us back after the break, and on his command, the empty tables were piled high with countless varieties of food. Everyone began to dish up their plates, Pansy rushing to fill my plate first, as she always did. I closed my eyes tightly for a moment, balling my hands into fists underneath the table.
I had to look.
My heart was in my throat now, as I slowly turned my head to glance over my shoulder.
A pair of chocolate velvet eyes was glancing back at me from across the room.
The corners of her mouth turned up so slightly, it was almost impossible to notice.
For one moment the memory of her kiss flooded my mind. Tiny, delicate fingers in my hair; the feel of her body arched underneath my own as I moved inside of her; the color of the firelight framing her wild, untamed curls; the sound of her whisper against the shell of my ear.
I blinked, and the memories were gone again.
Harry and Ron had followed Hermione's gaze which led straight to my table. Even from this far across the room, Harry's green eyes were as piercing as knife points on my skin. I pretended to scratch my chin on the thick fabric of my robes and turned around to face my own table again. Pansy placed my plate in front of me, piled high with what looked like a helping from every dish on the table. Everyone chatted about the holidays as they ate, laughter sprinkling the air every so often. I forced myself to eat a few bites even though my stomach was in knots.
Later, after Dumbledore had dismissed us from dinner and I had lead my House to their dormitories for the evening, I lit a fire in my private room and sat in front of the blazing hearth wrapped up in blankets and quilts to try and ease the ice cold feeling that refused to leave me. I shivered underneath almost every warm piece of clothing I owned, curled up on the soft couch directly in front of the flames.
When I finally drifted off to sleep my dreams were filled with blackness and despair. A soft voice made helpless sounds somewhere in the distance and I reached blindly around me to try and grab onto something. When I finally recognized the voice calling out to me as Hermione's, I desperately tried to run to her, but her voice kept getting further away. Exhausted and hopeless, I fell backwards into the unending darkness realizing with an undeniable certainty that without her, I truly had nothing.
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2nd A/N: Depressing? Yes. But hey, it can only go uphill from here. Maybe. Heh. Stay tuned for more!