Drop down your defenses, I'm raising my flag

This fighting is hopeless, we need this to end

It's going too far, don't know where it began

We're hurting each other and I can't pretend

I'm trying to help you to see

The casualties that we both leave

It's all so unnecessary

Can't you hear me scream?

Cease Fire — Christina Aguilera


Time and circumstances kept him from tracking her down until she had no choice but to be in his presence by attending class.

Even with her nearby, he was in a foul temper.

The miniscule signs that all was not well with the witch were glaringly obvious to him now. She raised her hand just often enough so he wouldn't question her behavior. Every gesture calculated. Every note taken with just the right amount of attentive energy to go unnoticed.

It grated on his nerves for the entire two-and-a-half-hour period. When he dismissed her classmates, he all but growled at her to stay behind, which she did warily. Draco and Potter hesitated at the door just long enough to earn a sharp glare and a threat to their respective house points. With an impatient flick of his wand, the doors warded behind them.

"You are not well," he said slowly, making an attempt to reign in his temper.

She frowned at him from where she'd stopped halfway up the steps. "I'm fine, Sir."

"You are not," he hissed, glaring up at her. "Come here."

Her steps were far too slow for his liking, making him grind his teeth as she neared.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly once she'd reached the base of the stairs. "I…I don't mind skipping tea tonight if you're not feeling well."

His eyes narrowed. "Looking for excuses to flee, are we?"

Her surprise was so clearly genuine that he allowed himself to think she was just concerned on his behalf, if only for a moment.

She chewed on her bottom lip. "Not at all. I just don't want to crowd you if I'm not wanted."

Something about her choice of words gave him pause. "Pray tell…" he said slowly, stalking forward until they were inches apart, "where you got the idea that you might be unwanted?"

He might have taught her basic occluding, but she'd yet to learn how to cover her panic, and for that he was grateful.

She started to open her mouth, but he cut her off. "Do. Not. Lie. To me." He growled. "Where did you get the idea that I do not want you?"

Her jaw snapped shut as she looked away, choosing to stare at a far wall instead of meeting his gaze.

"Hermione—"

"Why would you?" she said, her voice as small as it was bitter. "You've never liked me and I'll never expect you to. You were guilted into letting down your shields so I wouldn't die from MDD when you would've been fine otherwise and were getting on perfectly well without me!"

He stared at her, somewhat shocked by her outburst and wondering where her vehement accusations stemmed from.

He invited her to tea every time their schedules aligned, even if she spent every moment in his rooms studying or working away at some assignment or another, because he wanted to. He left her be when he knew she was busy, even when he wanted to offer her a study space nearer to him than her friends. He tried not to crowd her lest she find him even less desirable of a mate than she surely already did, or at least ought to.

But he certainly wasn't guilted into spending time with her just because of the events that had taken place earlier in the year.

"You are the brightest witch of your age, Miss Granger, or so Minerva loves to claim," he said slowly. "How could you possibly be quite so blind?"

Her eyes snapped to his, her stare as piercing and fiery as it was misty. "Blind? To what, Sir? What could possibly be appealing about being bound to a witch half your age, who's the best friend of the son of your former nemesis? Why would anyone be happy about being trapped with an insufferable, know-it-all, frizzy haired, mud—"

"No!" He snarled. "Don't ever use that word in reference to yourself!" When she didn't respond, he bit out a low, "Am I clear?"

"Crystal," she said, though it sounded like she was appeasing him. The last bits of his patience evaporated.

"What brought this on?" he asked, his voice hard. "Where is this coming from, witch?"

"It's nothing worthy of your time," she said.

"I'll judge that for myself, Miss Granger, as your mental faculties are clearly in questionable order tonight."

She glared at him again and he raised an impatient brow. "Don't make me take the answers from you," he warned. "Our relationship is brittle enough without adding 'forced legilimency' to the list of roadblocks in our path."

"You wouldn't," she said lowly.

"Something is bothering you, stubborn witch. Do. Not. Presume. That I won't employ every method in my power to discover the reason behind your discontent."

The tears in her eyes threatened to spill as her voice shook. "Stop pretending you care."

He wanted to rip his hair out. "Have you ever known me to be the sort of person who hides their true feelings on a matter?" He asked, purposefully letting more of his frustration seep into his tone to prove his point. "Pretending is something I reserve for the Dark Lord."

Her jaw locked and he could see her swallowing words he wanted to dare her to say. Instead, he ground his teeth and tried to checked his temper.

"What makes you think I'm indifferent, witch?" he asked.

Her lips quivered in spite of the tensed muscles in her jaw. "Why wouldn't you be?"

He let out a sigh that sounded like a growl. "You are my mate. Why would I?!" he snarled. "For Merlin's sake, witch, tell me what's causing this so I can bloody well fix it!"

She took a step back from him, shaking her head. "No. You are not obligated to—"

"Of course I'm not obligated to look after you!" he shouted. "You are mine, witch! Mine to look after, mine to fret over, mine to tend to! I couldn't be unconcerned if I wished and I don't wish!"

They stared at one another, his chest heaving with frustration and her lips trying to twitch into a frown. Her expression was entirely blank save for the two tears that finally spilled down her cheeks, and he came to a sudden realization.

"You don't believe me," he said.

She swallowed and the motion looked painful. "No," she said thickly.

He inhaled slowly, straightening as he held her gaze. "I'm sorry," he said, and he meant it.

She squinted in confusion. "Why—"

He would hate himself he knew, but she clearly wasn't going to cooperate enough to help him mend what was broken between them.

"Legilimens."


A/N: -twiddles thumbs- Hullo...