Chapter 5 – Learning to Breathe
Disclaimer: We do not own in any way shape or form the characters or settings of J.K.Rowling's book. Only she has that privilege. Also, none of the songs we use in these stories belong to us either. We thank the directors of the "Walk to Remember" soundtrack for writing such awesome lyrics.
Author's Note: We are sincerely sorry for the wait…one of us is not quite the responsible one, so glares to the childish partner in crime. Again, and we can't emphasize this enough, THESE STORIES ARE NOT RELATED! They are each a story in themselves, to the lyrics of the song. Enjoy!
By the way, this story's lyrics will be slightly more spaced out than the others, because the plot calls for some more explanation than usually. Don't worry; I didn't forget to put in lyrics!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hello, good morning, how you do?
What makes your rising sun so new?
A blinding patch of light bathed the emerald green of Draco's pillow, piercing through his pale eyelids painfully. He groaned quietly, rolling away from the light, only to collide with a figure on the other side of his bed. Startled, he sat up, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
A woman lay on her stomach next to him; blonde curls cascading down her bony back. Draco let out a deep breath, rubbing his eyes and trying to control the wild beating of his heart. It was only Pansy. He gazed at her longer, recalling the events of last night. Leering disgustedly, he rolled out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom.
I could use a fresh beginning too
Draco stared at himself in the mirror, leaning on the marble counter lazily. His platinum blonde hair was slightly ruffled from sleep, falling into his blue gray eyes. He patted it down so that it fell perfectly, as it had for the past three years. He examined his chiseled features, finding each curve and each feature flawless.
It was nothing new.
Draco pursed his lips, resting his elbows on the counter. Every day it was the same thing. He would wake up next to Pansy, wondering what possessed him to make love to such a pig, admire himself in the mirror, and set off for a day of tormenting innocent students that deserved it no more than he did. The only difference was that each day he would wonder how much farther he'd dug himself into the hole, burying himself in conceited arrogance.
He was sick of it.
All of my regrets are nothing new
Sighing, Draco exited the spotless bathroom, coming face to face with a very flustered looking Pansy. Her blouse was only buttoned once and to the wrong hole, her skirt was ruffled immensely, and her blonde hair stuck out in directions Draco didn't know existed.
"Lovely time last night, eh?" She raised a pale eyebrow, licking her lips suggestively. "We could, you know, go over what happened once more, just to make sure we didn't forget anything." She bit her bottom lip, looking up at Draco with bug like eyes.
Draco had to do all he could to keep from gagging. He sneered, brushing past her roughly and snatching his shirt from the bedpost. Pansy swerved around, pouting dramatically. "I don't understand you, Malfoy. Every night you drag me into bed with you and we have the most incredible night together, and then the next morning you act as though I'm some…some disease!" Draco scoffed, buttoning his shirt.
"Did it ever occur to you, Parkinson, that I might just be in the mood to get laid?" He brushed by her again, slamming his shoulder into hers. She winced, rubbing her collarbone delicately.
"If you want to get laid, Draco, then why do you turn down my offer every fucking morning? You certainly aren't like all the other guys I've shagged with."
She turned to avoid his shoulder as he moved back to the bed, yanking on a pair of socks. When he'd tied his shoes he got up, sauntering over to an expectant Pansy. His face came within inches of hers, never softening. "Because "every fucking morning" I have to concentrate on a more powerful way of decontaminating myself. Lysol just doesn't seem to cut it these days." He smirked and grabbed his cloak, heading towards the door. "I'll see you tonight, then."
The door slammed shut, leaving a shocked and angry Pansy standing there.
*~*~*
Draco's nostrils flared angrily and he strode down the hall. He ran a hand through his hair roughly, yanking an arm into the sleeve of his robe. He was so sick of it he could retch. Every day Draco had to conjure some new degrading comment to stay superior, even to his fellow housemates, and every day they came crawling back to him like a dependant puppy.
He never thought he'd say this, but Draco was fed up with being King. He was tired of the sacrifices he had to suffer to stay greater than the student population. "I'm suffocating." He admitted to himself, turning sharply and colliding into another student.
They both crashed to the ground, a tangle of limbs and robes. "Damn," Draco gasped, clutching his side where a textbook had rammed into him. He rolled off the victim, wincing as he took a jagged breath.
"Malfoy." The student sat up, shaking her head slightly to rid herself of the dizziness. "Blast, maybe if you bothered slowing down you wouldn't be suffocating, and perhaps you'd save us both the pain." Draco paused, smirking at the familiarity in the student's voice. He climbed to his feet, ignoring the demanding hand she thrust up at him.
"Well if it isn't the mudblood," He folded his arms across his chest, watching her roll her eyes and stumble to her feet herself.
Hermione brushed herself of, glaring menacingly at the Slytherin. "Please. If you're suffocating it's because that tongue of yours is so thick with that term. If you're going to insult me, find something original." Draco's smug expression faltered a little, remembering the discovery he'd had just seconds before.
Slightly surprised at his lack of retort, Hermione narrowed her eyes, bending to retrieve her books. "Did the fall alter your ability to insult? If it did, please, don't bother going to Madam Pomphrey. You're better off."
Draco raised an eyebrow at her, mildly impressed with her quick wit. Unfortunately, he shot his wit back at her on instinct. "No, I was rather considering seeing your father to get some dentistry work done…although I couldn't do that, my teeth would rot away from the contamination." He raised his eyebrows at her, daring her to snap back. To his surprise, she only stared at him coldly.
"You'll never change, Malfoy." Hermione pushed by him, leaving Draco alone in the corridor. Her words rang in his ears, becoming the highest insult he had ever received. It wouldn't have fazed him had he not wanted the change, but the fact that becoming civil was steadily rising to the top of Malfoy's priorities made her remark sting him harder than any insult ever had. He could change…he was going to change.
*~*~*
Hermione stormed out into the bright September day, spotting the shaggy black hair and flaming red head she knew so well. Sighing with relief, she trudged through the thick humid air to meet Harry and Ron, who were dangling Chudley Cannons figurines over a puddle.
"That'll teach you to forfeit due to a broken toe!" Ron snarled, hanging the Chaser over the water, which was squealing frantically. His hand plunged down, dunking the figure into the muddy pool of water. Harry's eyes widened.
"Ron! You'll drown him!" He snatched the Chaser away before the Weasley could dunk him again, dropping it into his pocket.
"He bloody well deserves it! And plus he's an action figure, not a human being." Harry shot Ron a stubborn look, noticing Hermione for the first time and scrambling to his feet. Ron looked around, confused, and followed suit as he noticed her as well.
Hermione stared at them both, an eyebrow arched dramatically. Harry chuckled nervously, and the famous blush crept up Ron's neck to his ears. "Erm, hey there, Hermione…we were…erm…we were just—" She held up a hand, signaling for him to stop while he was ahead.
"I don't even want to know." Ron clamped his mouth shut, rocking on his feet in embarrassment.
Harry, on the other hand, acted as though nothing had happened. "How goes it?"
They began strolling slowly along the bank of the lake absentmindedly; the water creature stretching its long tentacles lazily on occasion and then slamming them back down into the water so that a wave crept dangerously close to the trio. Hermione pursed her lips in frustration, gripping her bag tightly. "That…bloody excuse for a ferret has got to be the most foul mouthed being to ever pollute this poor Earth!" Harry and Ron blinked at her vigorous outburst.
"I…take it you ran into Malfoy," Harry mused, clasping his hands behind his back. Hermione gave him a sideways glance, still fuming.
"The bastard insulted my father, and he wouldn't help me up after he collided into me like he was on some raging mission! Honestly, I mourn for whoever came up with the bright idea to make him prefect." Ron discreetly inched away from Hermione until he was on the other side of Harry. Harry only glared at the Weasley, turning his attention back to Hermione.
"Don't mull over it, 'Mione. It'll only give him a greater satisfaction."
Hermione sighed, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully, suddenly turning to Harry. "Could I borrow that Chaser?" He shrugged, pulling the figure out of his pocket and dropping it into Hermione's hand. Without another word, she arched her back and hurled the action figure out over the lake, which squealed all the way until it dropped into the water with a plip.
Ron stopped, gaping at the sudden lack of his Chaser. "THAT WAS MINE!" He roared. Harry arched an eyebrow, highly impressed.
"You've got a bloody good arm."
*~*~*
Draco shifted his weight to his right foot, leaning against the aged Willow Tree. He gazed out at the trio, who were wandering along the edge of the lake. They seemed so…content. Not once did Draco see them remark snidely or secretly roll their eyes behind each other's back. It was strange as Hell, but it was exactly what Draco wanted. He'd never had the satisfaction of leaving someone's company knowing they'd had a genuinely civil conversation; like them.
He sighed, standing up straight. It was a bold thing for Draco to go into Weasel territory, but he knew that the only person that could help him was, in fact, the one person he'd have a hard time reaching. Hermione Granger.
So this is the way that I say I need you
As he neared the threesome, a strange feeling erupted in his stomach. Never before had Draco been nervous about approaching someone. Sucking in his pride, the Slytherin strode over to Hermione, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. She jumped, turning to face him with a look of shock.
Ron lunged at Draco, only to halt when Harry jutted out a peacekeeping arm. "What do you want, ferret?" The Red Haired boy demanded, allowing Harry to keep a warning arm in front of him.
"Actually," Draco said, holding up a white flag for a hand, "I was hoping to get a word with Granger." He glanced at her, acting as though he didn't notice the repulsed look she was giving him. When neither boy budged, he added, "Alone."
"In your bloody dreams, Malfoy! What you've got to say to her you can say to us as well." The Slytherin sighed, attempting desperately to mute his boiling irritation. His father had always taught him first impressions made all the difference in an agreement. He needed this agreement badly.
"I only need to speak to her for a moment. No harm will come to her, I promise." Harry's eyes went from timid to thoughtful. He turned to Hermione, who shrugged slightly, just as confused as he.
"Fine. We'll meet you at lunch then, Hermione." Harry nodded, casting a look of reassurance to her with his emerald green eyes. He led Ron away with some effort, leaving the rival students alone.
Hermione ripped her arm away from Draco's grasp, turning on her heel and marching away. Draco blinked, scrambling after her. "Granger, please! I really need to speak to you!"
"Oh do you?" She retorted, bending to pull a stick from her Mary Jane. "Well you certainly sparked my interest after that lovely comment I received." She halted, whipping around to face him. Her face was only inches away from his. "Do you honestly think that you can just come running back after I try to be civil, and you just push it away?" Draco folded his arms across his chest, raising an eyebrow.
"Unless my memory has faltered, you're the one who snapped at me in the first place."
"Well what do you expect?" Hermione demanded shrilly. "All the times I made an effort to be civil, you made me wonder why I ever tried!" She glared at him before whirling around again, making her way up the hill.
Draco groaned, trotting after her. "That's why I need to talk to you! I've seen you be civil; I've seen you be caring! You were the only one who tolerate Colin Creevey his first year here. If he were in my house I would have sent him home crying."
The Gryffindor stopped, turning back to him. "Are you saying you want me to help you increase your social skills?" He pursed his lips, running a hand roughly through his platinum blonde hair.
Lowering his voice, Draco replied, "Yes. I want you to help me because—no, Hermione listen to me!" He pulled her back, keeping a hand on her arm. "You don't understand what my life is like. Every day I get a letter from my father, asking if I'd shagged Pansy lately, and that to become a death eater I need to know how to 'dominate'. I never wanted to become one and I haven't yet, but the bastard has brainwashed me to believe that 'civil' is snapping back at what everyone says, and to only let someone come arms length to you emotionally." He searched her eyes, hoping to see a reflection of some sort of understanding. "You're more daft than I thought if you honestly think I didn't realize this."
Hermione bit her bottom lip, averting her eyes. "I didn't know you didn't want to become a Death Eater."
"You don't know a lot of things about me," He replied quietly.
She sighed, closing her eyes. Finally she opened them, boring into his gaze. "Meet me in the library tonight at 7:30. We'll get started there."
*~*~*
This is the way
This is the way that I'm
Learning to Breathe
"Okay, first off, you have got to relax." The Library was thick with silence, save the rustling papers from Madam Pince some way off and an occasional ruffling of robes. Draco had wandered in, tense as a board, and found Hermione curled up in the very back of the library reading a book. He marveled at how at ease she seemed, flipping the page noiselessly before he interrupted her story, almost reluctantly.
"Well it's not exactly a massage what we're doing here. If anyone sees me with a mud—"
"Stop!" Draco jumped at her sudden outburst, cowering in his seat as she held out her quill warningly. "First step. I am hereby banning that that word from your vocabulary." He raised an eyebrow doubtfully, bending over the table lazily.
"And how, dear mudblood, are you planning on doing that?"
Hermione smirked, pulling out her wand. "Vexatio Mudblood," A yellow stream of light hit the Slytherin, sending a peculiar jolt through his body. He winced, holding his chest with wide eyes. Neatly tucking her wand back in her robes, Hermione said, "From now on, whenever you say 'mudblood' an electric jolt will hit you. Go ahead, try it."
Draco arched an eyebrow. "Mudblood." What felt like an electric shock times 50 hit him so hard he toppled out of his chair, hitting the ground with a thud. He felt like his heart had stopped, which it probably had, and only when it started up again did he bother moving. "That's bloody dangerous!" He gasped in protest, falling into his chair shakily.
"But effective," Hermione replied pointedly, checking off a point on a long checklist. Draco gulped, wondering, slightly panicked, what she had in store for him next. "Now," she stated, falling back in her seat, "the next step is to stop calling each other by their last names."
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
The Gryffindor smirked. "Draco, how many other people in this school call anyone but their rivals by their last name? If you're going to be enjoyable you can't strut up to someone and say, 'Hey Weasel, how is your dear mother doing?'" With that, she held out an offering hand. "Draco."
Slowly, the Slytherin grasped it with his own, smirking. "Hermione."
*~*~*
I'm learning to crawl
I'm finding that you and you alone can break my fall
It went that way for months. Week after week, Draco would subtly excuse himself to meet Hermione in the library, who was always waiting with some new technique to increase Draco's social skills.
Hermione marveled at how well he learned. She had expected him to be reluctant and difficult, but with no more than a questionable eyebrow, he would always agree. The only fault Hermione could see was the effects putting Draco under pressure had. He hated pressure, and almost always he would snap back into his old ways. Hermione had seen this firsthand one-day.
She had been walking, balancing a mug of tea in one hand and three textbooks in the other. As she was walking she spotted a particularly intimidating group of Slytherins ahead, among them being Draco. As she passed them by Draco gave her a nod, ignoring her as they had agreed to do since their meetings. That's why it surprised Hermione greatly when a rough hand clamped over her shoulder.
"Well if it isn't Miss Granger." She narrowed her eyes, turning to find Flint grinning maliciously. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Draco tense visually.
"Ah, but it is. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to—" The rough hand seized her again, yanking her back to Flint. He draped an arm across her shoulder, biting his lip thoughtfully.
"You know, it seems to me that you've taken a pretty good interest in our good friend Malfoy, here. Don't think we don't see you glancing at him in the halls."
Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Since when is glancing at a student a crime?" She asked coolly.
Flint grinned. "Since it was Malfoy you were swooning over." She had to do all she could to keep from gagging. Malfoy had them wrapped tightly around his finger. She blinked at Flint, her unfazed gaze never faltering. They'd been practicing for months. Draco would sort it out.
Flint raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You're not fazed? Well, why don't we remind you whom you're dealing with?" He took her cup of tea, leading her to Draco. "Malfoy, would you go out with…this?" he gestured towards Hermione, who had an almost amused expression on her face. Draco gulped. He glanced at the Gryffindor, clearly nervous. "Malfoy?"
Slowly, Hermione's hope began to fall. He was nervous. She could tell he was forgetting what she had taught them all that time. The pressure was too great for him. "Never. Why would I go near a mudblood?" Anger raged through Hermione. For months she had racked her brain for every way possible to help Draco, who had come to her for help, and now he was throwing it back in her face.
But before the Gryffindor could react, Draco leaped back, crashing into the suit of armor behind him. He swore, clutching his chest. He had totally forgotten about the spell Hermione had cast on him that first night.
Smirking, Hermione snatched back her tea, splashing it in Draco's face. "Thanks for remembering, Draco." She strode off, leaving a very confused group of Slytherins, and one very wet and frustrated Draco.
*~*~*
Draco found Hermione in the library that night, although she was on the opposite end. He watched as she paused from her work, chewing on her quill furiously. The quill collapsed, filling her mouth with black ink. He took that opportunity to appear so that he could say what he wished while she was mute.
"Hermione…" She jumped, looking up at him and sputtering. Her eyes instantly narrowed as she wiped away a trickle of ink. "I know you must be mad at me." He slipped into the chair across her as she rummaged around her bag for a napkin, ignoring him. "But you have to understand, we're not working with one year of this lack of skills, we're working with a lifetime of them." She pursed her lips as she searched her bag, finding no relief.
"Here," Draco sighed, pulling one out of his own bag. He stood, pulling Hermione to her feet and wiping the ink away from the edges of her mouth. She let him work, her jaw set firmly and stubbornly. When he finished, she snatched them out of his hand, removing ink from the inside of her mouth. He watched her calmly and patiently.
When she finished she sighed, looking up at him. "I thought we were getting somewhere Draco. It's November, we've been working on what you wanted so badly for 3 months, and this is how you repay me." Draco groaned.
"Did you listen to a word I just said? These things take time; I was under pressure! How would Flint react if instead of being the usual bastard I am I linked our arms together and we waltzed down the hall chatting about the weather?" His voice was steadily rising as he spoke. "I'm not the only arrogant little daddy's boy in this school, 'Mione! It's going to take longer than overnight to transform me into a replica of Golden Boy, and you know that!"
Madam Pince waddled over, red in the face. "If you indeed plan on turning into Golden Boy, young man, you had better keep your voice low before I boot you out of this library and silence you PERMANENTLY!" He watched her in a stunned silence as she waddled away, muttering under her breath before turning back to Hermione, his voice noticeably lower.
"Please give me another chance, Hermione. If I were the same man I was before I came to you I wouldn't have come back." She squinted her eyes, horrified that she could get teary eyed over Draco. But they way that his voice strained in desperation, and the way that he kissed her knuckles pleadingly brought a lump to her throat.
He did want to change.
"All right Draco," She said, her voice hoarse. "I'll help you."
*~*~*
I'm living again, awake and alive
I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies.
Draco made a huge effort after that to be noticeably different. He smiled at Hermione in the halls and talked to her, though usually when Slytherins were a safe distance away. He called Harry and Ron, as well as all the other students by their first name, and slowly everyone else started warming up to him. He noticed that first years didn't shy away from him as he walked, rather smiled slightly in an almost approving manner.
He was the happiest he had ever been.
His already exceptional grades were impeccable, he became the second best seeker at Hogwarts (aside from Harry, of course), and he no longer walked like he owned the place. He now walked as though he were part of the place. It was the best month Draco had ever experienced at Hogwarts.
As Christmas break drew nearer, Draco grew more nervous. He would soon have to face his father, who would indeed be pleased with his grades and his Quidditch, but would certainly disapprove of his new easygoing attitude. The Slytherin decided to push it into the back of his head, not wanting to ruin the time he had left before the break.
Finally though, he could avoid it no longer. The day came when he would have to return to his father, and no one dreaded the occasion more than he. "Don't worry about it," Hermione said, walking behind him and clasping his cloak gently. "You're a brilliant actor, he won't suspect a thing."
Draco sighed, straightening his shoulders and holding his head high. "There he is," He stated quietly. He winced at the sight of his father, standing still in the chaotic crowd of students. He stuck out like a sore thumb, beckoning Draco to him with cold gray eyes. "Wish me luck," He muttered.
"Good luck." Hermione watched him merge with the crowd, meeting his father amidst the crowd. Lucius said nothing, only turned and led the Slytherin away, leaving Hermione alone and anxious.
*~*~*
Hermione practically skipped down the halls, beaming so bright her smile could melt the awaiting snow outside. She tugged on her leather gloves, yanking her hat over her ears carelessly as she burst through the double doors to the white courtyard. No more than seven students had stayed for Christmas this year, promising a tight and positively gorgeous holiday.
"Mione!" Ron tripped over to her, his face flushed from the biting cold. Hermione grinned, brushing away flecks of snow from his flaming red hair. "Creevey and Hannah have gone absolutely mad! Harry and I have done nothing but take cover all morning while they pelted us with snow!" As if on cue, Harry came charging around the corner, covering his head with his arms in a panic.
"RUN, RON!" The two boys scrambled away from the Prefect, followed closely by Colin and Hannah, whose arms were laden with dozens of perfectly round snowballs. They trudged by her, disappearing over the hill.
Hermione stayed where she was, drinking in the sight. It was positively beautiful. The willow tree no longer swayed gently with soft green branches, but stood perfectly still, stationary and coated with a delicate frost of snow. The lake was frozen on top, so much so that a student somewhere far off could be seen ice-skating in the center. Magical, Hermione thought happily.
Over the hill she heard a war cry, followed by a shriek. Somewhere Harry bellowed Ron's name, and then an audible thud signaled Colin and Hannah to scream their triumph. Seconds later the four appeared, soaking.
"They bloody creamed us!" Harry complained, brushing by Hermione stiffly.
"Yes well suck it up, Harry, I don't want to sit through Christmas breakfast alone while you two pout all day." Contrary to the seriousness in Hermione's tone, she had to laugh as he grumbled a silent reply.
*~*~*
Snape burst through the double doors to the great hall, a tangle of billowing dramatic robes. Hermione swore she could see smoke wafting in around his feet. She watched from across the hall as the Professor peered around suspiciously, doing a double take at the table in the center, where the only residing students sat. He turned, staring smugly down at all of them, including a very intrigued Dumbledore. Slowly his hand extended, and as suddenly as he came in, he snatched the bowl of jelly doughnuts and marched right back out.
Professor McGonnagal resumed chewing her sausage, a thin eyebrow arched highly. "I'm concerned for that man."
*~*~*
Hello, good morning, how you been?
Yesterday left my head kicked in
"You two could have been killed out there! Honestly, when Hannah says she's going to head butt you, you bloody well better listen! I hope you've both learned a valuable lesson from experience." Hermione shoved a bag of ice into each boy's hand, an angry mother expression plastered over her delicate face.
"Oh, with the lessons," Ron groaned, positioning himself so that the ice could rest on his chest without him having to hold it.
Harry winced, stiffly propping his feet up in front of the fire. "You'd never think such a petite girl could harbor such…madness." Hermione smirked, snuggling into the couch with the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.
Silence followed, save the quiet cracking of the fire. Hermione read until her eyes began to droop, heavy with exhaustion from the day's activities. The Prophet began to slip from her fingers, and as she drifted off to sleep it fluttered to the ground. But as it landed, the quiet scrape of paper didn't sound, as one would have expected. Instead, a heavy thud commenced, snapping the Gryffindor from her sleep.
She gasped in surprise as Draco stumbled out of the fireplace, brushing ash from his shoulders distastefully. There was a small 90-degree angle cut on his cheekbone, surrounded by a purple and black bruise. "Draco!"
Harry and Ron jolted awake at the commotion, groaning as their stomach muscles tensed. Hermione scrambled from her seat. "Rough day?" He inquired lazily, wincing as she touched his cut gingerly. He snatched her hand away, lowering it.
"I could ask the same for you." The Gryffindor Prefect replied, inspecting his cut thoroughly. Draco pulled away, falling into an armchair.
"I blew it, Granger." Hermione's heart jolted at the sound of her last name on his lips. She furrowed her eyebrows curiously, lowering herself onto the couch Ron was at.
I never, never thought that
I would fall like that
"I used at that fucking nice shit at the Manor thinking it would impress father. Hey, if I was happy he was happy, right?" He huffed, falling back against the chair lazily. "My fucking father doesn't give a damn if I'm happy. He wants me to be miserable. So, I quit." He stood, turning his back on a stunned trio, making his way to the fireplace. "Oh," he drawled, turning again. "Granger…take this bloody charm off me, I broke more china at the house then I did when I was two."
Tears were welling in Hermione's eyes, much to her displeasure. She was stupid to think that he really wanted to change. Some people never did. Ron and Harry were sitting forward; ready to leap up if he tried anything. Slowly the Gryffindor stood, pulling her wand out. "Dissuo," She spat bitterly, sucking back the stream of electricity she'd planted inside him so good heartedly that day.
"Cheers, mudblood." Ron leaped up, once again yanked back down by Harry. She'd been called that so many times before, but for some reason this time it stung harder than it ever had.
*~*~*
The remainder of the holiday passed by slowly for Hermione. She cried every night in her bed, never truly knowing why. Perhaps it was because she'd been so close to curing a boy from years of torment by his father. Maybe it was because he'd thrown away everything she'd done for him in a single sentence. But deep down, Hermione knew that she was hurt. She'd grown to tolerate Draco…even like him, and it hurt her deeply that he could so easily withdraw everything he'd given her emotionally so quickly.
Finally the second term began, and once again Hermione found the common room bustling with students. She rarely smiled, and even less now that she knew she'd have to face Draco.
She found an isolated spot in the library, behind the Restricted Section. No one ever went there, and Hermione had to dust off the table and chair before she sat. She was sure Malfoy wouldn't find her there.
He did.
She saw him approach, even though her eyes were fixed on the page in front of her. He stood, watching her eyes travel over the page lightly. Slowly he advanced, sliding into a dusty seat across her. They sat like that for minutes, him staring at her, her staring at the book.
Finally she lowered the book, gazing at him with what she hoped was the coldest look she had ever given anyone. He had a scar where the cut was.
Never knew that I could hurt this bad
So this is the way that I say I need you
"I'm miserable." He stated simple, trying to keep the waver from his voice.
Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes. "If I recall correctly, the arrogant little daddy's boy wanted to be miserable."
"Nobody wants to be miserable, Hermione." He replied quietly.
"Don't call me that. I think it's appropriate to ban the privilege of using my first name…at least to liars."
She watched him stare at his hands, closing his eyes patiently. "I need you, Hermione."
"Don't." She spat through gritted teeth, standing and slamming her book shut. Draco swallowed, quickly standing and blocking her way. "Move," She demanded coldly. He slowly shook his head, tightening his grip on her arm.
"No." She glared at him, mustering enough courage to smack him in the face. The slap echoed through the library, drowned out by the ringing in Draco's ear. He squeezed his eyes shut, never removing his hand.
"You think I'm going to welcome you with open arms again, Malfoy?" She hissed, trying to squirm free of his grasp. "You think I want to chat about the weather after that little performance?" The Gryffindor swallowed back the tears threatening to fall. "I'm not going to let you hurt me again."
So this is the way that I say I love you
This is the way that I say I'm yours
This is the way, this is the way
Draco stared at her, feeling the warmth of her skin under his hand. His scar was throbbing painfully from her hand's connection, but he held back the urge to rub it. "I hurt you?" The warmth subsided as she ripped her arm away, rubbing it as though she'd been burned.
"Yes, you hurt me!" She barked, glaring wildly at him. "You may not know, Malfoy, but when you changed, I did also. I no longer looked at you and saw a pathetic little rat, but someone worth spending time with! I even fell in—" She stopped abruptly, horrified at what she almost said.
Draco nodded slowly, stepping forward. "You even fell in love with me." Hermione looked at him, hesitant, but finally nodded.
"Yes, Draco." She admitted shakily. "I…even, fell in love with you." She raised an eyebrow, almost in fear as he came so close to her they were inches apart. She felt his hand slip around her neck gently, causing her eyes to flutter shut.
"That tends to happen," He whispered, hooking a finger under her chin and tilting her head so that her eyes drifted back open. He smiled slightly. "If it makes you feel any better…it wasn't in vain." He lowered his head, their lips meeting for the first time. Hermione hesitated, doubtful, but then gave in to his silent plea and kissed him back, leaning on his chest as he pulled her to him. He ran his tongue delicately on her bottom lip, hinting her to open her mouth. She did immediately, welcoming his tongue to explore thoroughly.
The kiss went on for minutes, but to them it seemed like hours. Only when a rough hand seized Draco's shoulder did they part, reluctantly.
"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, THIS IS THE LIBRARY, NOT THE ASTRONOMY TOUR! OUT!" Draco smirked as Madam Pince's face turned a curious shade of purple, her finger shaking violently as she pointed towards the exit. Draco smirked, subtly lacing Hermione's hand with his and leading her away. "Blasted lovebirds," She muttered, tutting as she returned to her desk.
*~*~*
I did something I've never done before…gasp, I added comedy! I'm not sure how I did, so please, inform me if I should add humor in future stories. Selvagem (My partner in crime) liked it, so I'm confident enough. Anyways, you know the drill: Review…of die.