AN: Ah. Angst galore. Garbage is one helluva good band.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and the song "Cup of Coffee" belongs to Garbage. I think Shirley Manson wrote it. *shrug* But it makes for good angst-potential.
Dedicated to: Whoever loves angst. And whoever loves me enough to leave a review.
Cup of Coffee
You told me you don't love me
Over a cup of coffee
She sucked in her breath. Felt the familiar prickling begin behind her eyes. The café around her seemed to swim in and out of reality. She watched as the man across the table became a wash of pale hair and even paler skin.
And I just have to look away
"Hermione..." she felt him reach for her, and she pulled away weakly. "No. That's..."
A million miles between us
She heard the scrape of a chair, the swish of a cloak being pulled around narrow shoulders. "I must go. Goodbye, then. Hermione Granger."
Footsteps receding. The tinkle of a door being swung open and swinging shut. The crack of her heart breaking.
Planets crash into dust
I just let it fade away
She put her head down on the table and began to cry. Beside her was an untouched cup of coffee.
I'm walking empty streets
Hoping we might meet
Weeks later, the same young woman stood under a streetlamp at two in the morning, her breath cold clouds in the night air, bundled into a dark cloak. She stared up at the hulking shape of the Manor, hoping against hope that he would come out tonight.
"Draco..." she whispered to the stars. "what have you done to me?"
I see your car parked on the road
The light on at your window
She reached up, touched the silver pendant at the base of her throat. It glittered, cold and hard and unforgiving... like his eyes.
"Hermione..."
"Yes, Draco, love?"
"I don't love you."
"... Anymore?"
"No. I never did in the first place."
The lights flickered in the Manor's windows, like eyes glaring at her from the dark. A sob rose in her throat, and was swallowed by the night.
I know for sure that you're home
But I just have to pass on by
Hermione stepped back onto the road, clutching her coat around her, taking the long way home. Why the long way home at three A.M.? Because it passed the Malfoy Manor from three different sides at three different times.
So no, of course, we can't be friends
She recalled the coffeehouse incident, like a million times before. Play. Stop. Rewind. Play. Rewind. Play. Rewind. Play. Pause.
Linger on his lips as they form the words "I don't love you." Linger on the split-second of shock on her face, and then the weak smile that tried to cover it up. Linger on the cold glitter of his eyes. Linger on the cup of coffee.
Not while I'm still this obsessed
"Hermione?"
"Who's this?"
"It's me, Harry."
"Oh."
"... How are you?"
"Okay."
"Tell the truth."
"..."
"I told you he'd break your heart one day, Hermione."
"..."
"You never listened, did you?"
"..."
"Do you want me to come over?"
*click*
"Hermione? Hey, are you there?"
I guess I always knew the score
She would sit in a corner and cry. Why did it hurt so much?
Because you knew it was coming.
Because you knew that his promises of forever only lasted a day, and that his whispers of endearment were whispered to thousands of other girls. Because you knew that it would eventually end, and you knew it would end badly.
Because you knew all along.
This is how our story ends
"He killed me."
"In a café."
"At two in the afternoon."
"With a cup of coffee in his hands."
"And a gleam in his eyes."
"And a smile on his lips."
"And a knife in my heart."
I smoke your brand of cigarettes
And pray that you might give me a call
She pulled out a cigarette from the pack she always carried around now, lighting it with a minor Incendio charm. She glanced half-heartedly at the brand, inhaled the familiar scent. The scent she always associated with Draco. And with heartbreak. And with false love.
The Muggle phone rang, and she sat up in bed, heart pounding... partly from the nicotine, partly from the phone itself. She picked up the receiver, sending up a silent prayer from the God she thought had never existed, willed herself to sound normal.
To sound happy.
"Hello?"
"Hermione!"
She felt her shoulders slump, and her heart give way. "What do you want, Ron?"
She didn't wait for an answer. She hung up, and shot a Silencing Charm at the phone.
I lie around on bed all day just staring at the walls
It was Ron's birthday today. Hermione blinked.
Oh.
Hanging round bars at night
Wishing I had never been born
And give myself to anyone who wants to take me home
Once again, she whispered it to the night. "Draco... what have you done to me?" She thought it as she downed the fourth shot. She wondered it as she smiled at the handsome stranger across her in the bar.
And she screamed it in the stranger's bed that night.
You left behind some clothes
My belly somersaults when I pick them off the floor
And she'd find herself walking into her apartment at three in the morning, half-naked, wasted and feeling impure. It's Draco's time of the night. she would whisper as she would strip, and fall into bed.
My friends all say they're worried
"Hermione."
"Harry. What?"
"Please..."
"..."
"You're going mad, I tell you."
"..."
"I can't stand this anymore. I'm so worried about you."
"..."
"Don't think Ron hasn't been upset either."
"Harry?"
"Yes?"
"Do me a favor. Leave me alone."
*click*
"Damnit Hermione! Why do you have to make this so goddamn hard?!"
I'm looking far too skinny
I've stopped returning all their calls
"Ron?"
"Harry, what is it?"
"Have you seen Hermione lately?"
"... No. Parvati spotted her in the Dizzy Damsel a few nights ago though."
"My god. There?"
"Yes. She looked a mess, according to Parvati."
"Do you know where Malfoy is?"
"That arsehole's in Sweden. Ran off with his new girlfriend."
"..."
*click*
"Harry? Harry?!"
And no, of course, we can't be friends
Not while I'm still so obsessed
Hermione reached around her neck, wondering at the sharp profile of her bones in the mirror. How did I get so thin? Her eyes clouded over. That's okay. Draco won't see me like this anyway.
She fingered the delicate silver chain, the elegant pendant. And whispered her mantra into the night.
I want to ask where I went wrong
But don't say anything at all
"Draco, what have you done to me?"
It took a cup of coffee
To prove that you don't love me
