Bound
By Angel Of Music
Chapter Three: Living with reality
It was Malfoy. And some mysterious brunette. What was her name again? Blaise? It didn't matter, anyway. Hermione knew just to stay as far away from them as possible so she could finish her project. She collected her scattered things in hope that she'd have enough time to relocate herself at a table in which was father away from the Slytherins. But she was simply not fast enough. The pair spotted her, and with a quick smirk, took the seat nearest her. She groaned and looked away.
"Well if it isn't Miss I-think-I'll-go-to-the-library-to-look-smart. Well, I'll tell you, it's not working."
"Shove off, Malfoy." Hermione responded in a weak exhale.
"Why would I ever do such a thing? You seem to be perfectly lost without your two companions- what happened? Did they get bored of you? Moved on to a prettier girl? Would do those two nitwits good to find someone with a little charm, though I doubt there's anyone like that in Gryffindor." Hermione ignored him and continued her work. "What happened? Too dumbstruck to speak?" She threw her quill down and jerked her head to gaze rudely at his face.
"Get away from me."
"Some come back, Granger! Did it take you all day to think of that one?" Hermione narrowed her eyes and scribbled down something on her parchment. Draco stood, yawning and took Blaise roughly by the hand. "C'mon, Zambini, I'm getting bored of Granger here." Blaise smirked and stood, gathering her hair in her fist.
"Disgusting." She mumbled, taking in Hermione's conservative looks, and smiling at her own erratic, liberal ones. "So Draco, what now?" Draco looked about gingerly.
"Geez, what a boring place. Only one Gryffindor." Blaise nodded in agreement and entwined her fingers.
"And it had to be that idiotic mudblood, Granger. Who does she think she is, anyway? Strutting around thinking she has charm JUST because she hangs about with Potter. It makes me sick. Only a woman with true beauty has charm." Draco pivoted his head towards Blaise with a quick sneer and inspected her attractiveness. It was true that she was prepossessing, with her dark, smooth locks and her morbid red eyes, and he idolized her for a moment. He had never really noticed how beautiful she was. "Malfoy, snap out of it." Draco came to from his trance and focused his blurred vision on her stern face. "Your eyes were glassing over. It scared me."
"S-sorry" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Dunno what came over me."
* * *
"Did he bother you again, Hermione? I'll kill him..."
"No, Ron." Hermione reconciled, brushing a mangled curl out of her face. "Just being Malfoy."
"That's just the kind of behavior I'd expect from the little git. Don't worry, Hermione, I'll show him what a real Gryffindor is made of."
"I'm sure you will." She agreed, propping her book up on her knee. The fire was crackling boredly in front of them as they prepared for winter break. They only had a week to go until they escaped from the exile that was their classes, and they were very excited. Hermione had decided to stay for Christmas break in order to find more time for her project. Ron had also chosen to stay to accompany Harry, who of course could not go home. So they were ready for a good time, and wanted to do the best the could to make the time come as quickly as was possible. Harry smiled at Hermione's sarcasm and looked at Ron.
"I heard Malfoy's staying for break, too." He said solemnly, shaking his head. "His father's going to be away for some kind of business trip."
"Business trip." Ron laughed, widening his eyes. "More like a death eater meeting."
"I wouldn't be surprised." Harry and Hermione said simultaneously, nodding. Ron grinned and kicked Hermione's book off of her knee.
"Stop being boring, Hermione." He told her, chuckling slightly.
"And what else do you suggest I be?" She asked with curiosity. Ron gave her a serious look.
"You can be boring any old day. Its Friday. No classes for two days!" Ron did a sort of a dance, then collapsed back upon the scarlet armchair. "Lighten up a little." Hermione considered, then picked up her book. "Oh c'mon, Hermione!" He gave her a furtive, hopeful glance, and with that, she hurled the book at him.
"Literature fight!" Screamed Ron, throwing the book back at her. She caught it and laughed,
"One point for me." Soon the air was filled with flying books, penetrating the thick, boring silence of the studious common room with the whooshing and giggling. After a while, Seamus joined in, then Dean, then Lavender, then Ginny, then after a while the whole of Gryffindor house (excluding the head boy) was tangled within the fight. It turned out to be a wonderful evening, after all.
* * *
"Blaise, what would you do if a worthless piece of Gryffindor scum saved you from dying?"
"Like that would ever happen." She responded, sneering. "But if it did? I don't think I'd be able to live with myself. I mean, every wizard knows about that bond that the victim shares with his rescuer."
"Bond?"
"Yeah, you know, like if someone saves someone else's life, they are forever in debt to that person?"
"What?"
"Yeah, its commonly known. I thought a pure blood such as yourself would know that."
"Blaise, can you excuse me?" He asked, stunned.
"Uh, I guess-"
"Thanks, gotta go." He dashed away swiftly, leaving Blaise in a dull shock. He ran through the deserted corridors shrewdly, not careful to make himself scarce. He didn't care if someone heard him. He had to get away, to go somewhere. He didn't care where. A bond? That he had to fulfill? Blaise had to be mistaken. He turned a sharp corner and thrashed his way down the proceeding hallway, trying to bat away the thoughts that danced in his mind. A bond that he could not break. He was forever connected to a mudblood. A MUDBLOOD. If Voldemort found out, which was extremely possible, Draco would be in grave danger. Voldermort had the power to know all, and if he sensed muggle essence, Draco would suffer. He shivered in the sheer thought of it.
He was now in the great hall. Running to the door, Draco crashed into it, attempting to open it. As he pulled it ajar, he toppled out onto the snowy grounds, forgetting that he was freezing. He jogged with raw hatred to the back of the castle, his destination the quidditch stadium. "I hate her." He mumbled, his words evaporating into a mocking mist. "And I don't owe her anything."
Draco sat upon a cold and empty bleacher, head in his hands. *I'll never give her anything. She doesn't deserve this. I don't deserve this.* He embraced himself as the air wrapped morbidly around him. The macabre atmosphere pressed against his flushed cheeks, dusting them with rosy hatred. Draco curled up with himself and bit his lip. "She's disgusting." He said aloud, rubbing the corners of his eyes. "Why would someone of such an inferior position be attached to me?"
Then it hit him. There was no getting out of it. He was stuck to a debt he'd never intended to have. He was attached to a promise he'd never intended to keep. He was tied to the one person that he had for so long detested. He was entwined in a bond of hatred, wrapped in a blanket of shame. Draco Malfoy was bound.
* * *
The trees of winter grew ivory with the snow that fell desperately from the cloudy sky. It shimmered in the disappearing sun, twinkled as it dropped, and landed upon the grounds of Hogwarts in a beautifully graceful action. The castle was delicately adorned in the flakes, displaying a picture-perfect view. Hogwarts was so aesthetically pleasing during this season that it could have taken one's breath away, yet it made Hermione stricken with grief. It just meant that she was a step closer to the end of the year. She only had a little while to go until she went off alone into the wizarding world, with again no companions. It was true that she still had a year and a half to go, but to think that this was her second-to-last Christmas at Hogwarts was depressing. She sighed as she ran her finger across the border of the frigid window, retracing times from her past when she, Harry, and Ron had reminisced. Those days- THOSE were the days she'd give anything to repeat. But days were growing old and frigid, and the nights were turning dank and scary. Nothing but darkness.
She was bound to Draco Malfoy, and there was no way of getting out of it.
* * *
By Angel Of Music
Chapter Three: Living with reality
It was Malfoy. And some mysterious brunette. What was her name again? Blaise? It didn't matter, anyway. Hermione knew just to stay as far away from them as possible so she could finish her project. She collected her scattered things in hope that she'd have enough time to relocate herself at a table in which was father away from the Slytherins. But she was simply not fast enough. The pair spotted her, and with a quick smirk, took the seat nearest her. She groaned and looked away.
"Well if it isn't Miss I-think-I'll-go-to-the-library-to-look-smart. Well, I'll tell you, it's not working."
"Shove off, Malfoy." Hermione responded in a weak exhale.
"Why would I ever do such a thing? You seem to be perfectly lost without your two companions- what happened? Did they get bored of you? Moved on to a prettier girl? Would do those two nitwits good to find someone with a little charm, though I doubt there's anyone like that in Gryffindor." Hermione ignored him and continued her work. "What happened? Too dumbstruck to speak?" She threw her quill down and jerked her head to gaze rudely at his face.
"Get away from me."
"Some come back, Granger! Did it take you all day to think of that one?" Hermione narrowed her eyes and scribbled down something on her parchment. Draco stood, yawning and took Blaise roughly by the hand. "C'mon, Zambini, I'm getting bored of Granger here." Blaise smirked and stood, gathering her hair in her fist.
"Disgusting." She mumbled, taking in Hermione's conservative looks, and smiling at her own erratic, liberal ones. "So Draco, what now?" Draco looked about gingerly.
"Geez, what a boring place. Only one Gryffindor." Blaise nodded in agreement and entwined her fingers.
"And it had to be that idiotic mudblood, Granger. Who does she think she is, anyway? Strutting around thinking she has charm JUST because she hangs about with Potter. It makes me sick. Only a woman with true beauty has charm." Draco pivoted his head towards Blaise with a quick sneer and inspected her attractiveness. It was true that she was prepossessing, with her dark, smooth locks and her morbid red eyes, and he idolized her for a moment. He had never really noticed how beautiful she was. "Malfoy, snap out of it." Draco came to from his trance and focused his blurred vision on her stern face. "Your eyes were glassing over. It scared me."
"S-sorry" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Dunno what came over me."
* * *
"Did he bother you again, Hermione? I'll kill him..."
"No, Ron." Hermione reconciled, brushing a mangled curl out of her face. "Just being Malfoy."
"That's just the kind of behavior I'd expect from the little git. Don't worry, Hermione, I'll show him what a real Gryffindor is made of."
"I'm sure you will." She agreed, propping her book up on her knee. The fire was crackling boredly in front of them as they prepared for winter break. They only had a week to go until they escaped from the exile that was their classes, and they were very excited. Hermione had decided to stay for Christmas break in order to find more time for her project. Ron had also chosen to stay to accompany Harry, who of course could not go home. So they were ready for a good time, and wanted to do the best the could to make the time come as quickly as was possible. Harry smiled at Hermione's sarcasm and looked at Ron.
"I heard Malfoy's staying for break, too." He said solemnly, shaking his head. "His father's going to be away for some kind of business trip."
"Business trip." Ron laughed, widening his eyes. "More like a death eater meeting."
"I wouldn't be surprised." Harry and Hermione said simultaneously, nodding. Ron grinned and kicked Hermione's book off of her knee.
"Stop being boring, Hermione." He told her, chuckling slightly.
"And what else do you suggest I be?" She asked with curiosity. Ron gave her a serious look.
"You can be boring any old day. Its Friday. No classes for two days!" Ron did a sort of a dance, then collapsed back upon the scarlet armchair. "Lighten up a little." Hermione considered, then picked up her book. "Oh c'mon, Hermione!" He gave her a furtive, hopeful glance, and with that, she hurled the book at him.
"Literature fight!" Screamed Ron, throwing the book back at her. She caught it and laughed,
"One point for me." Soon the air was filled with flying books, penetrating the thick, boring silence of the studious common room with the whooshing and giggling. After a while, Seamus joined in, then Dean, then Lavender, then Ginny, then after a while the whole of Gryffindor house (excluding the head boy) was tangled within the fight. It turned out to be a wonderful evening, after all.
* * *
"Blaise, what would you do if a worthless piece of Gryffindor scum saved you from dying?"
"Like that would ever happen." She responded, sneering. "But if it did? I don't think I'd be able to live with myself. I mean, every wizard knows about that bond that the victim shares with his rescuer."
"Bond?"
"Yeah, you know, like if someone saves someone else's life, they are forever in debt to that person?"
"What?"
"Yeah, its commonly known. I thought a pure blood such as yourself would know that."
"Blaise, can you excuse me?" He asked, stunned.
"Uh, I guess-"
"Thanks, gotta go." He dashed away swiftly, leaving Blaise in a dull shock. He ran through the deserted corridors shrewdly, not careful to make himself scarce. He didn't care if someone heard him. He had to get away, to go somewhere. He didn't care where. A bond? That he had to fulfill? Blaise had to be mistaken. He turned a sharp corner and thrashed his way down the proceeding hallway, trying to bat away the thoughts that danced in his mind. A bond that he could not break. He was forever connected to a mudblood. A MUDBLOOD. If Voldemort found out, which was extremely possible, Draco would be in grave danger. Voldermort had the power to know all, and if he sensed muggle essence, Draco would suffer. He shivered in the sheer thought of it.
He was now in the great hall. Running to the door, Draco crashed into it, attempting to open it. As he pulled it ajar, he toppled out onto the snowy grounds, forgetting that he was freezing. He jogged with raw hatred to the back of the castle, his destination the quidditch stadium. "I hate her." He mumbled, his words evaporating into a mocking mist. "And I don't owe her anything."
Draco sat upon a cold and empty bleacher, head in his hands. *I'll never give her anything. She doesn't deserve this. I don't deserve this.* He embraced himself as the air wrapped morbidly around him. The macabre atmosphere pressed against his flushed cheeks, dusting them with rosy hatred. Draco curled up with himself and bit his lip. "She's disgusting." He said aloud, rubbing the corners of his eyes. "Why would someone of such an inferior position be attached to me?"
Then it hit him. There was no getting out of it. He was stuck to a debt he'd never intended to have. He was attached to a promise he'd never intended to keep. He was tied to the one person that he had for so long detested. He was entwined in a bond of hatred, wrapped in a blanket of shame. Draco Malfoy was bound.
* * *
The trees of winter grew ivory with the snow that fell desperately from the cloudy sky. It shimmered in the disappearing sun, twinkled as it dropped, and landed upon the grounds of Hogwarts in a beautifully graceful action. The castle was delicately adorned in the flakes, displaying a picture-perfect view. Hogwarts was so aesthetically pleasing during this season that it could have taken one's breath away, yet it made Hermione stricken with grief. It just meant that she was a step closer to the end of the year. She only had a little while to go until she went off alone into the wizarding world, with again no companions. It was true that she still had a year and a half to go, but to think that this was her second-to-last Christmas at Hogwarts was depressing. She sighed as she ran her finger across the border of the frigid window, retracing times from her past when she, Harry, and Ron had reminisced. Those days- THOSE were the days she'd give anything to repeat. But days were growing old and frigid, and the nights were turning dank and scary. Nothing but darkness.
She was bound to Draco Malfoy, and there was no way of getting out of it.
* * *
