Draco woke up feeling a great deal of pain on the back of his head. He also
found himself face flat on the floor. He got up slowly and painfully,
feeing woozy. As he sat up he leaned his back heavily on the wall and
touched his head. Blood covered the tips of his fingers and he smeared it.
He did not have a memory lapse on what happened to him. He knew perfectly well what happened. He saw the metal paperweight that Hermione hit with. That too had blood on it. He gripped it and threw it furiously across the room shattering a mirror into little pieces. He groaned. The pain was great, both externally and internally. His vision was off. Everything was in twos.
Why would Hermione do that to me? I thought she loved me.
He smiled. He closed his eyes and relived the moment. He missed her body. He longed for those tighs once more and those breasts.
She loved it.
He dragged himself up the wall, gripping the table next to him to help himself up. He stumbled across the room, knocking things down along the way. He had to treat his wound. He thought of a spell at first then realized that it would take too long because of the healing process.
He started to think. His sick little mind decided not to heal it after all. He's keeping this hit as a reminder. No, an award. He got to touch her, feel her .... lick her. He started to make himself believe again that Hermione didn't mean to hit him with the paperweight. He told himself she liked the whole thing. She had pleasure, she still loves him. It wasn't self-defense .....
She just liked it rough .... Her tears were tears of joy.
The pain in his head started to drive him. It no longer made him feel weak. It rejuvenated him with each strike.
He got to his closet and opened the doors widely. He took all the Hermione paraphanelia and surrounded himself with it. He opened the jar of her hair and smelled it. He rubbed it on his face, caressing himself.
She would never do that to me .... She loves me ....
His hands started to feel like buring as he clenched his fists.
It's that Weasley ... He's getting to her ... He's taking her away from me ...
Something on his right made his eyes flicker. A picture on the very top wall on the right caught his eyes. It was a picture of Hermione and he smiled at her. Instantly he noticed a tiny Ron in the backround gawking and staring at her with admiring eyes. Something inside Draco snapped. He ran around his room like a maniac and finally found it wand.
"Finite Incantatem!" He screamed. A tiny blast shocked that picture and a tiny piece of that picture fell to the ground. Floating .. it paced itself in front of Draco and he smiled with a sneer. On the picture was Ron with an expression of fright until it whisped away to ashes.
"I'll get you my Hermione," he said creepily to himself, "I won't let Ron hurt you anymore." He walked out his door briskly muttering furiously to himself about going to Ron's house.
He had a feeling that's where Hermione would be.
He did not have a memory lapse on what happened to him. He knew perfectly well what happened. He saw the metal paperweight that Hermione hit with. That too had blood on it. He gripped it and threw it furiously across the room shattering a mirror into little pieces. He groaned. The pain was great, both externally and internally. His vision was off. Everything was in twos.
Why would Hermione do that to me? I thought she loved me.
He smiled. He closed his eyes and relived the moment. He missed her body. He longed for those tighs once more and those breasts.
She loved it.
He dragged himself up the wall, gripping the table next to him to help himself up. He stumbled across the room, knocking things down along the way. He had to treat his wound. He thought of a spell at first then realized that it would take too long because of the healing process.
He started to think. His sick little mind decided not to heal it after all. He's keeping this hit as a reminder. No, an award. He got to touch her, feel her .... lick her. He started to make himself believe again that Hermione didn't mean to hit him with the paperweight. He told himself she liked the whole thing. She had pleasure, she still loves him. It wasn't self-defense .....
She just liked it rough .... Her tears were tears of joy.
The pain in his head started to drive him. It no longer made him feel weak. It rejuvenated him with each strike.
He got to his closet and opened the doors widely. He took all the Hermione paraphanelia and surrounded himself with it. He opened the jar of her hair and smelled it. He rubbed it on his face, caressing himself.
She would never do that to me .... She loves me ....
His hands started to feel like buring as he clenched his fists.
It's that Weasley ... He's getting to her ... He's taking her away from me ...
Something on his right made his eyes flicker. A picture on the very top wall on the right caught his eyes. It was a picture of Hermione and he smiled at her. Instantly he noticed a tiny Ron in the backround gawking and staring at her with admiring eyes. Something inside Draco snapped. He ran around his room like a maniac and finally found it wand.
"Finite Incantatem!" He screamed. A tiny blast shocked that picture and a tiny piece of that picture fell to the ground. Floating .. it paced itself in front of Draco and he smiled with a sneer. On the picture was Ron with an expression of fright until it whisped away to ashes.
"I'll get you my Hermione," he said creepily to himself, "I won't let Ron hurt you anymore." He walked out his door briskly muttering furiously to himself about going to Ron's house.
He had a feeling that's where Hermione would be.