"Hermione!"
She glanced back. Draco was closing on her, his eyes flashing, and his face set in hard lines. "Piss off Draco," she muttered, walking even faster. She made it to the Gryffendor portrait without Draco catching up. "Hippogriff," she said, quickly stepping inside. The painting swung shut, just as Draco arrived.
"Hermione-" he got out before the portrait shut him out.
She flung herself down onto the couch, sniffling. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why did he? She pulled off her dress robe and curled up in a ball, tears falling down her cheeks to drip on her arms.
Draco slammed his hand against the wall beside the portrait of the Fat Lady. Why hadn't he just said it? I love you. So stupid.
"What's wrong dearie?"
He looked up. The Fat Lady was looking at him questioningly.
"Is it the girl Hermione? She's such a sweet little thing. Did you know her boyfriend broke up with her a few weeks ago? Such a tragedy. The first day without him, she came crying out of here because of that dolf, Ronald Weasley. I could hear him yelling from here. 'Get over the bastard, Hermione!' 'He's not worth it!' And the worst that made her run and not come back for four hours was 'He doesn't love you! How can you forgive him for that and not forgive me for stupid little things?' She slapped the oaf so hard I heard it out here and when she came out, she was crying about that and about her hand. Too bad about her boyfriend though. She wouldn't stop talking about him to that other one, Ginny, I think it is…"
He slid to the floor, closing his eyes and putting his head in his hands. Yup, he'd screwed up big time.
"Always talking about how sweet and gorgeous, and nice and wonderful he was…" the Fat Lady rambled on. "Wish there were more like him around."
Harry and Ginny found him in the same place two hours later, the Fat Lady rambling on about a friend she'd gone to visit in the North tower that afternoon.
"Draco?" Ginny asked softly.
His head shot up. "Hermione?" he asked, half-asleep.
"Not quite," Harry said helping him up. "Come on. I'll help you back to your room."
"But I need to talk to Hermione," Draco said dazedly as Harry led him down the hallway.
"Not tonight you won't. Come on, Draco. Back to bed for you. I'll be right back," he added to Ginny.
She nodded and turned to the Fat Lady. "Hippogriff."
"Sure," the woman replied. "Nice young man," she remarked. "Been here for the last two hours. Wonder who he was waiting for… oh well, goodnight dearie." She yawned. "I should go to bed soon too…"
Ginny rolled her eyes and went in. Sometimes the Fat Lady just didn't shut up… "Thanks. You too." She entered and spotted Hermione curled up on the couch. She moved over and squatted down next to the girl. "Hermione? Wake up."
Hermione opened her eyes slowly. "Draco?" she asked, confused.
Ginny smiled. They loved each other. "No, Harry took him back to his room. He's been sitting outside, talking to the Fat Lady for two hours, waiting to see you."
Hermione stood up, picking up her robe. "So what? He probably just wanted to yell at me." She started for the portrait hole. "I have to go to bed."
"He loves you, Hermione."
She didn't reply and kept moving.
"What happened, Draco? You guys were perfect," Harry said as they walked towards the Head's rooms.
"I couldn't admit that I loved her," Draco said soberly. He felt drunk like he couldn't see or move or talk properly. "And I do. I really do. But I screwed up. All she thinks of me is 'Malfoy.'" He said spreading his arms wide over his head like writing it out. "A bastard, a liar, and a jerk." They arrived at the entrance of the Head Rooms and he leaned his head against it. "How do you do it, Potter?'
"Do what?"
"Stay around her without messing up all the time? I sure can't do it as you can see… Dragon scales."
The portrait opened and he almost fell into the room. Groaning, he moved further into the room towards the couches.
Harry stood in the doorway. "Lots of practice. You should really get some sleep, Draco. You've had a long night. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Draco replied, sitting down heavily in a couch to stare at the fire as the portrait swung shut. He put his head down in his hands. What was he going to do?
¤ ¤ ¤
Okay, that's it for today… no cliff hanger this time… : ) I'm out of town this weekend but I'll try to write the next chapter and maybe post it by Sunday when I get back… let me know what you think of this one… suggestions always welcome! Ciao!