A/N Okay, an odd
fic…but I've been reading a lot of them after reading none for a week,
so…Again, I was spurred to write this, but this time I planned upon it…that
doesn't make much sense, does it? Sorry for all the swearing, I'm in a bad
mood. And…um…not much to say here…I
think I'm making this a series…
Disclaimer: All
characters and settings belong to J. K., and the song lyrics that run through
Hermione's head belong to Sarah McLaughlin. My writing belongs to the demon that I sold my soul to when my family
got Windows and a PC instead of a Mac. ::sobs in shame::
Dolor Orexis the 1st:
The Shattering Wall
Tualha
Her blood was boiling, Draco could tell. Her blood was boiling because she hated
being forced to stay here. With
him. For at least 4 hours. The fact that she was forced to be with him
in her beloved library made it that much worse. They both had detention for swearing, and were supposed to reshelf
books. Detentions were always horribly
menial tasks. Hermione had cracked from
loss of sleep and too much homework, and told Draco to "oh, fuck off, Malfoy"
when he came to bother them all period in Potions. Malfoy had called her something a tad bit worse than Mudblood in
front of McGonagall. The two heads had
decided that each would choose their own student's punishment. Their decisions were as follows:
"Really, I don't blame you, Miss Granger I'd probably
have done the same in your position" – here they shared a grin – "but
self-control is necessary. I'll let you
spend the evening in the library, re-shelving. You'll enjoy that, a quiet evening in the library, won't you? I don't want to do anything too harsh…yes,
this will be best. I'll let you go in
the Restricted Section…" McGonagall's voice had trailed off, and she was
scribbling on a parchment form about Hermione's assignment for the night. When Snape was notified of her decision, he
presented two choices to Malfoy. Either
he could spend the evening doing something he'd truly enjoy, or he could go to
the library with Hermione. Draco was
rather surprised at the latter choice. Snape reasoning was: "I've seen the way she looks at you, when she's not
just glaring at you tiredly, when you're not looking back. She has some opinion of you that would
benefit you to know. Either she hates
you as much as she always has, if not more, or she's in love with you. If she's smitten, then you have the
opportunity to play with her a little, have a little fun. And think how much it'll kill Potter and
Weasley," he finished, black eyes glinting. He chanced a glance at Draco's face. There was a smirk upon it, and one eyebrow was raised. His eyes were the only outlets through which
one could see his emotions. He'd gone
though excessive training for his face to remain indifferent. However, he was definitely amused now.
One
thing that you must understand is that where most of us are just sort of there
in the ethics department, Draco Malfoy was evil. It was simply his upbringing, some would say. But it wasn't. For example, good was practically a part of Harry Potter's
genome. Draco Malfoy had a thread of
pure black laced into his DNA. Malice
was his nature. A fact that must be
accepted. So it was that Draco chose to
spend his detention torturing his enemies instead of choosing his own
pastime. Snape said that for the same
crime, there should be the same punishment, so his proposal was accepted by the
powers that be. The professor arranged
the date so that his favorite student might have a few days to observe "the
quarry". And in this fashion, the time
passed, and it became the date of punishment.
Hermione
had gotten extra sleep, and done all of her homework at dinner in
preparation. She was actually looking
forward to detention. Hey, why
not? After all, she was going to spend
a nice, quiet evening alone in one of her favorite places. Just about the only thing she didn't like
about Hogwarts was the fact that there was a distinct lack of privacy. She had grown up an only child, in a large
house, with a room to herself. And a
large room, at that. Now, she lived in
a dorm with people she wasn't even that fond of, but didn't have any space
from, not counting the curtains around her bed. So she took alone time when she could get it. That was certainly part of the reason that
she was so mad when she ambled into the library, humming, and saw Malfoy there.
"I'm
going to say this once, and don't make me talk to you again," she said
immediately, eyes closed and neck tensed. "I don't want you here, I'm going to try very hard not to talk to you,
and I don't want you talking to me. I
don't know why you're here, too, but I'm seriously pissed about it, and I just
want to get on with my re-shelving, if you don't mind." Malfoy was, of course, still smirking as he
always did, and there was a glint of something in his eyes that Hermione
couldn't quite identify, but knew for a fact that she didn't like.
"Oh,"
she added, as an afterthought, "I know I'm going to have to say this, so I'll
say it now. Shut up, Malfoy, shut up,
Malfoy, shut up, Malfoy, shut up, Malfoy, shut up, Malfoy, shut
up, Malfoy, SHUT UP, MALFOY!!!!!"
Now,
Malfoy would have replied, but the pure acid in Hermione's eyes made him think
that it might be better for him not to pique her fury so early in the
evening. So, for the next hour or two,
Hermione tried to relax, and Malfoy made interesting cat/mouse comparisons
about him and the other inhabitant of the room. Madam Pince wasn't there. Even though Malfoy was a teenage boy, and himself at that, McGonagall
trusted Hermione to be able to take care of herself. And, normally, she would have been able to.
When
the night was growing older, and the detention was nearly done, Malfoy started
pondering how he was going to go about his task. Finally, he decided just to dive right in, and, thereabouts of
five minutes later did. He abruptly
stopped shelving books, and, without a word, grabbed Hermione and kissed
her. Predictably, she gasped, and
slapped him, hard, her nails leaving little cuts in his cheek.
"How
dare you?!" she screamed, nearly at a loss for words.
"Guess,"
he replied leisurely, leaning back in a chair. When she didn't reply, he continued.
"Or
maybe you already know…?"
With
those words, there was a visible crumbling behind Hermione's dark brown
eyes. A wall supposedly as mighty as
China's, as old relative to the situation, but apparently not nearly so
enduring, had shattered with one blow. But then, was it really fair? Given the circumstances, a better metaphor might have been a paper
screen and a nuke.
"Fine. Fine!" Hermione yelled, losing control,
nearly for the first time in her life. "Yes, fine, I know! Good God, I
know! Yes…yes, I know, damn you. I know how my knees get weak of their own
accord when I see you, and how it's all I can do to keep my mind on my work,
because of you. I know how whenever I
try to work out what I think about you, my stomach becomes a vacuum, and I have
to think about something else. I know
how I can't keep my mind off you when I'm lying alone at night, and how the
only dreams that I seem to be able to remember have you as a main
character. I know how I dread ever
telling anyone this, because I know how Ron will be furious, and Harry will be
hurt, and McGonagall be shocked, and, oh God, I know how whenever I try to get
to be alone with my thoughts, you're there." At this point, there was a flicker of fear in Draco's eyes. He'd had no idea just how far this
went. But it went farther than that.
"I
know…I know how much I used to hate you, used to think you were slime, and now
I can't, I just can't. I know how
whenever I see you in potions, or any other place, I start feeling sorry for
you, because I know what kind of a wonderful person you could have been, if things
were different. And I know you too well
to do this, and I know how much you're going to hurt me in the end, and I know
you won't even give a damn about what happens to me, but I, I can't keep going
on like this, I simply can't keep living my life with everything like this
happening inside. I'm just not capable
of it."
Now,
Draco had intentionally hardened his eyes so Hermione couldn't see all that was
happening in his head. Seeing this,
Hermione thought, of all things, about some song lyrics. You're so beautiful…a beautiful fucked up
man. She could only say one thing
now.
"Now,
I'm just going to say this one more time, but I'm going to add a bit. Shut up and kiss me, Malfoy."
A/N2 Okay, so how was it? I'm getting REALLY insecure about this one…so
please review? Please? Maybe I should get my cat in here…she can do
better guilt trips than I can…Oh well. So, other things. If I really do
make this a series, it's going to be in all sorts of styles, like filk and
song-fic. Also, any guesses about what
the title means? 'Tis Latin.