Hermione ran down the stairs with tears pricking in her eyes. To her surprise she found they weren't tears of sadness, as were her usual waterworks, but tears of anger. There were no other words to describe it except pissed beyond belief. It took a little time to kick in since she'd left the room, but within a few steps it caught up to her.
How dare Malfoy say those things about her. Such cruel, humiliating things. What business did he have talking down to her like that? It wasn't any of his concern how she chose to behave! Like he knew what went through her head. It wasn't like her change in demeanor had happened overnight or by choice. It was something that had been beaten into her again and again, until it became a way of life. But what would Malfoy know about that? He'd never experienced hardship in his prissy little life. Hermione doubted he'd ever had anyone strike him, save for her in third year. He had no right to call her pathetic when he had no idea what her life was like, what Ron was like.
Try having someone beat the hell out of you on a daily basis, demean you, and then violate you in unspeakable ways day in and day out, and we'll see how high you can hold your head, Malfoy! Hermione silently thought to herself, broodingly.
Malfoy yelled those things at her like she didn't already know that she was pathetic. It hurt to have someone else recognize it… it really did. His words tore at what was left of her pathetic little heart, but triggered a feeling deep inside her that hadn't been felt in years: rage. That burning passionate anger, that consumed her as she stomped away. She had half a mind to go back and give him a piece of her mind. She actually turned around and started walking upstairs when a little voice in the back of her mind stopped her.
Don't… you'll only make Malfoy angry… and then he'll hurt you just like Ron.
Hermione cursed herself for being afraid. She wanted so badly to slap herself, to punish that fearful being at the core of her heart. She yearned to walk up the stairs and punch Malfoy, the no good ferret, square in the nose. She longed to fight, not just Malfoy, but Ron. She felt the fervent desire to battle, to scream, to give all that hurt her a sip or two of their own disgusting medicine.
Stop this nonsense. You'll only get hurt, Hermione… you don't want to make anyone angry. You don't want to be beaten again.
There were those annoying fearful thoughts again. Hermione decided to ignore them. She let anger push out the fear, giving way to the courage that comes with blinding rage. She spun her body around and began to stomp heavily up the flight of stairs, back to Malfoy, ready to get revenge for all the cruel indignities she'd suffered over the years. All of them.
Draco sighed. He couldn't risk the mud-blood getting caught, wandering aimlessly about with no idea how to get back to the Gryffindor tower. Knowing her, she'd probably somehow reveal to administration that he spent so much time out of bed late at night, and worse yet where he spent them. Draco refused to have his only place of refuge ruined because of that stupid girl. He knew that if she left the tower she'd get lost, and if she got lost the chances of her getting caught were almost definite.
With a frustrated sigh, Draco arose from his position on the floor, and slowly opened up the hatch leading downstairs. Without hesitation he climbed down the ladder, and hopped onto the stairs without skipping a beat. He moved without hurry. Even if Granger made it out of the tower before he found her, she wouldn't be able to get very far, considering she had no idea where she was going.
He had been expecting to find her at the end of a tedious journey confused and hopelessly lost somewhere outside the Slytherin dormitory, just like he'd found her several other times before. He looked back at the door and ladder, noticing he'd forgotten to reseal it. He turned around and flicked his wand, beckoning the ladder to fold up and the door to snap shut, as usual. He was so focused in silently performing the simple spell that he didn't notice the loud footsteps quickly approaching.
He didn't notice when Hermione Granger stood right behind him with rage in her eyes. He didn't notice much of anything until he felt nimble fingers clinch into his shoulder, pull back with all the strength of a lioness and force him to face his assailant.
Brown eyes met gray, and burning rage met stagnant apathy. Draco didn't make any expression whatsoever, didn't utter a sound, just stared back into brown orbs of anger, and concealed pain.
He showed absolutely no reaction until Granger dragged the reaction right out of him.
Slap!
The noise resonated through the tower, like the cracking of a whip. Granger's hand still hovered in the air inches away from Draco's bright red, stinging cheek. Without skipping a beat she hit him again. And again. And again. Draco was absolutely shocked, so much so that he made no move to stop her until the sixth or seventh slap. Finally, when he regained his senses, he grabbed the mud-blood's wrist in midair, in a vice grip. She just raised the other hand, curling it into a fist and punching the other cheek. He used one hand on each of hers, refusing to take this abuse any longer.
"What in the name of bloody hell are you doing?" He found himself shouting.
"I AM NOT PATHETIC!"
"That doesn't really answer my question you know! What the hell is wrong with you? You don't just walk around hitting innocent bystanders, you stupid bitch!"
"Innocent bystander? AS IF YOU CRUEL, ARROGANT, SON OF A BITCH!" As Granger yelled her fists began flying about again, enraged. Draco lost his hold and one blow landed directly in his eye. He took her wrists once more squeezing them tight as hand-cuffs.
"OH DON'T EVEN START WITH ME, GRANGER! STRIKE ME ONE MORE TIME AND I JUST MIGHT STRIKE BACK!"
"LIKE I CARE! YOU THINK I CAN'T TAKE A HIT? I TAKE THEM EVERY DAMN DAY! WHAT'S ONE MORE? NOTHING!"
"I KNOW YOU CAN TAKE A PUNCH OR ELSE YOU WOULDN'T BE ALIVE WOULD YOU, MUDBLOOD? YOU'RE SO PATHETIC THAT YOU DON'T EVEN FIGHT BACK WHEN SOMEONE HITS YOU! LEARNING TO TAKE A HIT IS WHAT'S KEPT YOU AROUND THUS FAR! YOU'RE SUCH A WEAK, USELESS, STUPID GIRL THAT YOU CAN'T DEFEND YOURSELF!"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, MALFOY!"
"MAKE ME!"
"GLADLY!"
Granger struggled against Draco's hold, fighting to land a blow. He just smirked at the mudblood. This was one fight he wasn't about to lose. After a full seven minutes of battling against his iron grip, she was out of breath and tired. Yet, she still continued to resist her inevitable loss of this battle.
Draco laughed.
"What's the point, Granger? I'm bigger than you. I'm stronger than you. I'll win. You know I will."
"SHUT UP!" Draco noticed a quiver in her voice.
"Listen to me, mudblood. You are weak, you are pathetic, cowardly, and you're not even mad at me and you know it. You're mad at your so called 'boyfriend' for being an asshole. You're only taking it out on me, because you think you have a chance against me. You're pissed, and you really want to fight with him. You want him to suffer the way you suffer. But you come after me instead, because you know if you go after him he'll just beat the living shit out of you. You're a coward. You know you are. You're just trying to slap me around because I called it to your attention, you weak, sniveling, whelp of a witch."
Draco's eyes danced with malicious intent. He was possibly as pissed off as Granger obviously was. He wanted his words to sting. He wanted the filthy mudblood to feel pain for having hurt him. He was above physically torturing her, but emotionally worked just as well. Maybe, better.
He smiled that evil, signature Malfoy family grin.
Granger's bushy brown hair covered her eyes, and shadowed most of her face as she let her head drop to the ground. Suddenly all the former trashing of her arms ceased, and her hands fell limp, almost as though she was numb past her elbows.
Draco continued to smile spitefully.
"You are a useless human being. You no longer really serve a purpose being alive do you? Who are you helping? What good are you doing for this planet anymore? Nothing. You just take up space."
The stupid mudblood didn't even look up. Draco laughed out loud at his pitifully weak advisory.
"Not so tough now are you, Granger?"
Suddenly, her eyes snapped up to meet his malicious gray eyes. Draco's smile dropped when he discovered her tawny irises to be filled with immeasurable pain. A kind of agony that he'd never seen before. A raw, hysterical, disturbing, endless kind of misery, that shocked him. It was a misery filled with fear, confusion, revulsion, shame, anger, but most of all… simply suffering. It reminded Draco of a dying animal.
Big, wet tears rolled down her red cheeks, making them glisten. Her lips contorted into a grimace that made Draco wonder if she even knew how to smile anymore. Granger began to sob, her chest convulsing, and snot oozing from her nose.
"You're right. You're right about everything, Malfoy." Her voice trembled as much as her body. Without another word she pulled out of Draco's grip and collapsed to the floor in a heap.
Draco felt something strange, a very small ache, from deep inside of him as he looked down and Hermione Granger. With every passing second the ache grew larger until it was a steady, excruciating throb that resonated throughout his icy heart.
Draco was a death-eater. He'd seen a great many innocent men, women, and children die gruesome deaths. After a while watching others fall to agony didn't affect him at all. It was just a part of daily life. Yet, for some reason Hermione Granger, a filthy mudblood, in such tremendous pain was more powerful than anything he'd witnessed before. He felt something akin to guilt, with a touch of sympathy, stir deep inside him.
Without willing himself to do so, he knelt down, and gently took hold of her wrist from the step above her.
Her face snapped up, and she lay splayed out before him looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
"I'm not going to hurt you." Draco whispered , trying to keep his voice low and soft.
She said nothing.
"It's going to be okay… You're going to be okay, Granger. Stop crying. Go back upstairs."
Why am I being nice to her? She's Granger for crying out loud! I HATE HER!
When she didn't respond, Draco just got up and walked calmly back up the stairs, calling over his shoulder: "I won't make you follow, mudblood. But I'll be up here if you want. Not that I care or anything."
Hi everybody! So I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. Anyway, please if you like this: REVIEW! DON'T BE A SILENT READER! Be proactive. I love all you guys!
-ICU