Draco felt his heart beating in his chest as his skin touched hers and he pulled her against him. Their lips crashed against each other and he reveled in her sweetness, in the way that they melded seamlessly together. He had to admit that the passion took him aback. He wasn't sure who was contributing the most of it. He was feeling so many different emotions right now and there were two that were first and foremost in his mind at the moment. Fear at the thought of losing her and anger at the fact that she didn't trust him. Her first instinct had been to run from him. Not to give him the benefit of the doubt. To believe in the worst in him. He hated that so much that he had to fight against his old instincts to run away himself. He wanted to punish her for her lack of faith. He wanted to give her that little ball of hurt that was growing in his chest.
Problem was she was probably already feeling it.
Was that his fault? No. If she hadn't jumped to the worst conclusions about him then neither of them would be in this predicament. Was it so much of him to ask that she trust him? Maybe given their past history it was, but he wanted her to believe that he was different. He wanted so badly to be different.
Draco was the one to pull away first as all of these thoughts ran through his head. He took a deep breath in an attempt to let go of the anger and so that he could begin telling her what had happened. Right as he was about to speak he felt the air whoosh from his lungs as she pushed against his chest, knocking him back a few steps.
"How could you!? Do you think it's funny to show all of them things... personal things, that were meant for no one but you? My fault right? Should have known better than to expect you to actually care about my feelings. This is just wonderful, Pansy and Zabini! The whole school will know by tomorrow. And Harry and Ron! This is all your fault!" she vented at him, running her fingers through her hair in frustration.
Rationally Draco knew that she was upset and panicking just the way that he'd done when Pansy had first taken the letter. Emotionally he was furious. How dare she accuse him of doing any of this on purpose. As if he took any sort of pleasure in hurting her feelings. They were never going to get past the past. He was always going to be the one to blame. The malicious one. The liar, the sneak, the betrayer. Right now the role that he felt was one that he despised, and that was the role of the fool.
Hermione Granger had made a fool of him. This was the last time he was going to let that happen. He had tried so hard to be something good for her. To make his own choices, to be his own person, and this is what it got him. Accused and yelled at. It wasn't worth it. How could it be worth it? Did she not think that he was strong enough to walk away? That he needed her? Draco Malfoy didn't need anyone and that was something he kept forgetting. No forgetting now, not when it could leave him feeling like this. He was tired of all of these feelings, tired of talking, tired of trying, tired of her.
So she thought the worst of him? That was fine, he would deal with that, but he wouldn't deal with it here and now. He had to get away from her before he said something that he would regret. More importantly before he said something that he wouldn't. He looked at her one more time, she was still angry, her face was flushed and she had her arms crossed across her chest, waiting for an explanation. Well, she didn't deserve one. He turned around and walked away from her feeling like if he didn't he was going to erupt in anger and frustration. It had been a long time since he'd felt rage like this. Where were Crabbe and Goyle when he needed them? Probably following Nott around. Draco hadn't had much use for them lately so they had kept their distance. It was only now that Draco felt the loss of them.
As he walked away Draco didn't hear the sound of her footsteps behind him and for some reason that made the betrayal worse. Didn't even care enough to hear his side of the story, did she? Of course not. Why bother listening to a liar. His steps were the only ones he heard as he made his way down to the Dungeons. He prayed that he didn't see Pansy because at this point he was going to something unforgivable if he did.
Finally he was in the solace of the dorms and the coldness of the dungeons soothed his temper just a little bit and he began to think clearly. What was he doing getting so upset over a Mudblood? That word sounded alien in his head and he suppressed the ball of guilt growing in the pit of his stomach. He made it to his bed and lay down with a heavy sigh. He had to do something to get his mind off of her. Something, anything. He decided to revert to an old past time. Take a piece of parchment, roll it into a ball, throw it across the room and incinerate it with his wand before it hit the floor.
A few minutes later the air was rank with the smell of burned paper and ash littered the floor. Draco had to admit that he felt a little better. He had to keep his mind away from her. Wondering what she was doing, wondering how she was feeling, wondering anything about her. She had done nothing but make his life way more complicated than it needed to be.
There was a tap at the window and Draco looked up to see an owl sitting on the sill. Wondering if it was from Hermione, he debated upon not opening the window but the curiosity got the best of him. He wanted it to be from her. He wanted an apology, something, anything that let him know that she no longer saw him as the Slytherin Prince. With hands that were surprisingly shaking, he opened the window and the owl flew in, dropped what looked like a little ball, and then quickly flew back out the window.
Draco looked at the little ball as it made a metallic sound as it rolled across the floor, right towards him. It looked very much like a snitch, except it lacked wings and it was silver in color. He was just about to bend down and pick it up when it gave a little shake. Seconds later his father was standing right in front of him.
Draco felt his heart plummet through the floor boards. It couldn't be his father, yet it looked just like him. He was thinner, and that made his frame look more sharp and angled, but there was no mistaking those eyes, even if they were almost engulfed by the dark circles under them.
"Father?" he asked hesitantly, resisting the urge to take a step back and cower against the wall. How could this be? This couldn't be happening.
"Draco, it is good to see you. I don't have much time so I must make this quick." The voice was still the same. Soft, silky, deathly. it reminded him of a snake ready to strike.
"What are you doing here?" Draco asked in a whisper. His tone was one that he wasn't sure he had ever used with his father before but the panic was taking over. What if someone walked in? What if Dumbledore found out? He'd get expelled and then he'd have nowhere to go.
"I'm projecting myself to you. Complicated but useful. I'm sure you've heard about your mother. The portion of the Malfoy fortune that she took has been recovered and is being held in trust by someone whose loyalty I do not question. Do I have reason to question yours?" The last sentence was spoke with an almost tangible threat.
"Of course not, Father." The words came easily to his lips, as if by some compulsion. He didn't know how he could stand there so calmly in front of his worst nightmare.
"Good. I've secured an ally in the form of a former school mate of mine. His daughter happens to be one of your classmates, a Ravenclaw by the name of Lisa Turpin. Any correspondences between us must come through her from now on. It should be safe. There needs to be a reason for the two of you to be seen together. Make her your ally, Draco. Most importantly I need you to get as close to Potter as possible. The time of the Dark Lord is drawing near. We must be prepared."
Before Draco could even think to ask a question, the ball had disappeared in a cloud of heavy gray smoke that smelled of sulfur, adding to the unpleasant stench of the room. With a flick of his wand the window flew open and the smoke flew outside. Draco could feel his hands still shaking.
Things had just got a lot more complicated.
Hermione couldn't explain all of the emotions that were coursing through her. She felt like a ball of tangled yarn and the fact that he was kissing her didn't help anything. She didn't stop him though. It felt good to get lost in the feeling of his lips against hers but at the same time it didn't make anything better. It didn't stop the hurt that she felt from consuming her. What Pansy had said was running through her head. Draco would never belong to anyone, least of all her.
Draco pulled his lips away from hers but they stood close together, his hands still gently holding her arms. What gave him that right?
With all of the strength that she could muster, which wasn't much, she pushed him back. Did he think that he could just run up to her and kiss her and everything would go away? That she would forget everything that had just happened. She saw something in his eyes and it reminded her so much of the old Malfoy that she wanted to take a step back from him. She was torn between anger and feeling apologetic, anger won out.
When she was done unleashing her fury on him he stood there, not saying a word. She could see that he was angry, and right when she thought that he was going to explode on her he walked away. Hermione was furious at the tears that were filling her eyes. She was literally shaking, and couldn't pin point the emotion that was causing it. Anger, fear, simple adrenaline? Whatever it was it was making her sick to her stomach. She watched until he disappeared behind a corner, not even looking back at her and it felt like a dam broke inside of her. So that was it then? He was just going to walk away? She felt so unbelievably foolish. The embarrassment from earlier now seemed to be magnified. She couldn't handle the fact that Pansy knew what she had written to him. Ron would probably know soon, and so would Harry. She wasn't sure which scared her most, the thought that he closest friends might find out or the rest of her house mates. Who would be more forgiving?
Hermione was sure that she was going to be sick. Why hadn't he stayed? Said something? Anything? The fact that he had kissed her had only made her anger and frustration worse. Did he think that it was all that she wanted from him? She wanted a friend, she wanted someone that she could put her trust in. He had proved to be neither of those. She was use to having arguments and disagreements with Harry and Ron, but no matter what she said she always knew that they'd make up eventually, that they would still be there once the dust had settled. She needed that security and Draco didn't offer that.
Hermione made her way up to the Gryffindor common room, her foot steps echoing behind her. How was she going to face her friends? Ron most of all? Right now all she wanted to do was find a dark abandoned corner to hide in until all of this went away. How dare he make her feel this way. How dare she allow him to. This was her fault. She had tried so hard to see the best in him and all he did was disappoint her for her troubles.
It wasn't fair. It just really wasn't fair.
Hermione spoke the password to the Common Room and walked inside. It was warm and the fire burning in the fireplace beckoned to her. She walked over to the sofa in front of it and plopped down, furiously wiping at the tears that had begun to fall. This was all his fault. If he would have just said something and not walked away maybe things would be different. He was a coward and she hated him for it.
No, not hate. She could never hate him.
That thought frustrated her to no end. She heard the doors open and then the influx of talk as the majority of the House returned from dinner. Hermione sank further into the couch hoping that she remained unnoticed while at the same time remembering how her first kiss with Draco had taken place on his very couch. That didn't help her stop the tears. She had been able to convince herself that things would work out, yes they would be difficult, but it wasn't impossible. It seemed impossible right now.
Hermione wondered when she had turned into the kind of girl that spent time crying about boys and relationships. Since now apparently. She did not like the changes that she saw in herself because of him. Was this how love worked? Did it change you so much that you began to lose sight of who you were? Love... as if she could even call what she had shared with him love. Misguided attraction, deluded affection, those words were more suited to what she felt, had felt for him.
Damn him.
They'd managed to get along for a whole two days this time before everything had fallen apart. Two days was all they could manage and then things had to go and implode and leave her devastated in the process. Ron was right, he had told her that Draco would destroy her and here she sat, in tears over him. Over a Slytherin. Over a Malfoy.
Hermione internally groaned as she heard footsteps coming her way. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or not that it was Harry and Ron coming towards her. To her it looked as if Ron would rather be anywhere else and Harry had prodded and cajoled him into coming and talking to her. Great, one of her best friends didn't even want to talk to her. He could join the club.
"Why so glum?" asked Harry as he sat down on one side of her with Ron on the other. Hermione was sure that he knew exactly what was wrong. After all, she wasn't one to sit around with eyes that were red from crying. It wasn't that she wasn't emotional, she was, it was just that she wasn't overly emotional, at least not usually. When you applied logic to things there really wasn't anything to get upset about. However, not very much seemed logical about her life or feelings at the moment.
How did she respond to Harry without sounding like a complete idiot and give Ron a reason to say 'I told you so'. Not that he would, he was a little more sensitive than that. He would be thinking it though. She knew he would be.
"Just a bad day," she replied gloomily, looking into the flames. Was it time for bed yet? Could she escape to her room and hide under the blankets while pretending that nothing in the last month and a half had happened. No meetings in the library, no kisses, no touches, no talks. She wanted nothing to do with any of her memories, yet they haunted her anyway. She was surprised when an arm wrapped around her and it was Ron and not Harry's. She tried to work up resentment towards him but she failed. So what if Ron was right? She hoped that he wasn't taking satisfaction out of her misery but right now the comfort felt good and she wasn't going to punish him for it.
"Anyone for a game of Elxploding Snap?" asked Harry as he accio'd a card table so that it was sitting in front of them, the cards already shuffling themselves in anticipation of a game.
"Sure," Hermione said, wiping her eyes one more time and hoping that neither one of them had noticed. This was the way that it was supposed to be. Harry, Ron, and Hermoine. She would do well to remember that in the future. Draco had his friends and she had hers. He had his life and it was time that she stayed out of it. No matter how much she wanted things to be different. Ron removed his arm from her and then they all scooted forward towards the table as the cards were dealt.
Maybe what she really had to do was make the best with whatever hand she was dealt.