Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters…. Nah duh~!!! Owned by wonderful J.K. Rowling who non wonderfully killed SIRIUS!!!! Sumtyms I relli wonder the point of these disclaimers, but I really wish I owned DRACO..!! 3 3 3 3
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I wish I would get more reviews but mai fwend says it harder to get reviews for Draco/herm fics… I guess I gotta write more!
++Chapter Two: Lost Without You++
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Draco leant against the door outside "DFDA 21", although he himself was in Hogwarts, his mind was somewhere else, somewhere far away, somewhere he wanted to escape from. But it's not as if he could. It was like a fly, you try to brush it away from you, but it keeps on coming back.
His fellow Slytherins, Crabbe and Goyle, were nowhere to be seen, surely off to find more food before the lessons began, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything at all. It wasn't like his life really mattered.
He heard footsteps approaching him, he turned his back to them and pretended to be immensely interested in a painting outside the classroom of a knight fighting a dragon. The footsteps came to a stop near him.
"Malfoy?" Came a familiar voice.
Draco didn't turn, but remained with his back to the talker.
"What are you doing here so early?" asked Harry, suspiciously.
Draco turned back his head with disgust to face the 'Dream Team', Harry and Ron, he didn't say anything, or sneer. Which was unusual. He felt like telling them to go and stuff themselves. For some reason he had manners than day.
"Come on, he isn't going to talk to us," Ron grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him into the classroom, who's door had just been opened by a tall woman.
Dumbledore had talked to them about a new teacher, Professor McMahn, their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Draco looked at her and was surprised to find a tall, slender female figure with hair so black it almost looked purple. Her eyes were an eerie icy shade of blue, somehow he felt like he's seen them somewhere before.
She smiled at Draco, a perfect smile, with no teeth showing so you couldn't really tell what she was thinking. Like the Mona Lisa, mysterious and seductive.
Draco was mesmerized by her for a while before turning back to his old self. He picked up his bag from the ground and hurried into the room, which stank of stale paper.
He charged past Harry and Ron sitting in the front row, who were talking about Quidditch, but you could tell their eyes were on him, it wasn't hard to see something was up with Draco.
Draco stopped at the back row and ploncked down his stuff with a loud clank and sat down, pulling his bag off the table.
He ran his hair through his silver-blond hair and before long he was lost in deep thought again.
The funeral… the way the rain pattered down on everyone wearing the traditional colour of black, it was like the "perfect" funeral. If there was such a thing, the types you see in movies and read about in books. But never experience.
It was different for him, he experienced the death of not one but two people. His uncle, who he had never been really close too. He sometimes wondered why his father always seemed to change the subject when Magrese was brought up. He had never felt close to his uncle, not that he could imagine himself being close to his uncle, he was so much like Draco, that being around him caused him to feel dizzy.
Draco didn't feel bad that day about Magrese's death, he didn't know how to feel, later he swore at himself for being so naïve, sure he never talked to him, but he was a family member.
The death of Narcissa dug a deep gap in Draco's heart, it was like that feeling that kids have when they wait in a line to buy ice-cream but to, when they get to the front, find all the chocolate gone. But it was more intense. He felt like there was nothing to live for, his mother was his north, east, south and west (a/n hehe read a poem in English about that) she was the only person he ever trusted.
After the priest finished reading, god know what, Draco finally looked up. His father was not present, it was strange, you would think the death of his wife and a brother would have affected him, but it seemed like he didn't give a shit.
Sure he was never really close to any of them.
The classroom was
beginning to pile up with Slytherins and Gryffindors, who have just arrived
from their lunch time, noisy clatter filled the room as Professor McMahn picked
up a piece of chalk and started writing something on the board, the chalk
creaked under her pressure and Draco looked up to see the words "Moritus
Subito".
He felt two heavy people sit down
either side of him, who grunted at him, he merely looked left to right. He knew
they were going to come but he almost didn't want them too. He wanted to be
left all alone, out of this world. The appearance of Crabbe and Goyle made him
snap back to reality. He wasn't sure whether he liked his fantasy world better
or not.
The teacher's words blurred over him, she talked about something, and he didn't listen, he just kept on looking at nothing, fixing his attention on nothing at all, which he found harder than actually thinking about something. She saw this, she looked at him, stopped for a minute, then continued talking. She paced up and down the class.
"Now today we will be talking about a new spell that has come to our attention…" she started and wrote more numbers and digits on the board, which everyone copied down, except for him.
"-there is still no confirmation on the actual cause of this spell…"
Draco looked at Crabbe and Goyle, surprisingly they were actually listening to her in interest, or at least pretending to, they might have just been drooling over he, like the rest of the males were. Draco felt disgusted. She was a teacher for god's sake!
"-but it is known to kill sharply and painfully…"
Sharply and painfully, Draco thought, that must have been how his mother died. And his uncle. No matter what Lucius said to him, he still felt there was something wrong about the way he said "no one knows how they died".
Draco didn't trust him.
Or himself.
Why did he have to think about this now? What the fuck was wrong with him?
"Mr. Malfoy?" the professor smiled at him, he felt the strange sensation again through him, like he's meant to know her but, he doesn't know from where. He sat up straight and straightened his tie, before being aware that everyone's attention was on him.
"I don't know miss," he said, guessing what she asked him.
"Have you even been paying attention?" she asked, walking towards him, stopping right in front of him, "maybe you would like to change seats with someone else so I can make sure you are listening to this, hopefully so current affairs had not affected anything."
He stopped and stared at her when she said that, how could she have known? No one knew, not even the principal, Lucius had made sure no one was told, like he was hiding something, but how could she..?
"No thank you miss," He said simply, hoping she would pass him, fat chance.
"Mr. Weasley?" she turned her attention to Ron, who was sitting in the front row, before he pulled a face, obviously not wanting to move.
"May you kindly swop-?"
"But Miss… Me and Harry-" Ron started.
"Fine Fine, both of you move to the empty desk at the back of the room, Mr. Malfoy?" she motioned to Draco. He wasn't listening.
The night he came home, the night before Hogwarts. The way the house smelt empty and only one person greeted him.
The look in Lucius' eyes.
Draco had stormed past him, not believing what he heard, but as he walked into the study, the world seemed to slow down to let him catch his breath, the vision of the two corpses on the floor, covered in white sheets, the clean floorboards, with no blood, the way the window was open and the curtain blew, the crowd of wizards around the room, investigating, was enough to break him up.
It probably would have.
But he was taught by his father to be a fighter.
The room to the classroom burst open and a girl with brown hair and an armful of books stormed in. Draco looked up and saw Hermione with puffy red eyes, as if she had been crying. She stormed past the first row and walked to Professor McMahn, with the whole room's attention on her.
"I'm sorry I'm late," she said.
"Of course, make sure you don't do it again," she smiled.
Draco felt like screaming, how can everyone be so calm and normal when he felt like ripping himself up? Why would no one understand? Why wouldn't someone ask? To show that they care the slightest bit about him? Why would no one bother?
The feeling of loneliness swept back to him.
"MR. MALFOY! I WILL ASK YOU ONE MORE TIME TO MOVE TO THE FRONT DESK!" her voice rang throughout the class.
Draco picked up his books silently and moved to the front. He sat down and pulled out a nib, he then dipped in red ink and started drawing.
Screw you bitch, he thought, screw all of you.
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Hermione sat down next to Harry. Who just smiled casually at her before turning back to Ron, they were talking about a new tactic used in Quidditch. As usual.
They didn't even care that she was 10 minutes late to class and that her uniform was all over the place. So un-hermione-like.
She sighed and tried to forget about her feelings of unworthiness.
Her eyes wandered around the new classroom decorated by Prfessor McMahn.
She couldn't stop herself, the tears were yelling to come out again. Why did this always happen? Why can't she move on?
Her attention turned to Draco, who was sitting by himself at the front, he didn't make any rude comments, he didn't do anything. He looked like a dummy just sitting there. The back of his head suddenly became interesting.
He moved his head to the left and she stared.
On his wrist where lines of blood, or red ink. It was hard to tell, the lines destroyed his skin. His pale ghostly skin was freakily streaked. She turned her head away. It was disturbing. What was wrong with him, what was he doing?
She turned her head again and stared, she saw him lift a nib pen dipping with red and drawing again. It was amazing that no one else seemed to be noticing. It was like they were the only ones in this empty classroom.
The new teacher didn't care, she was blabbing on about some new curse, for once in her life Hermione didn't bother listening, she was up all night thinking, she just needed to sleep… her eyes drifted down. And she opened her mouth in contentment.
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"DETENTION BOTH OF YOU!"
Hermione opened her eyes wearily and stared up at Professor McMahn. Her elegantly silky hair was now a mess and her blue eyes fuming with rage. She shifted and looked behind her, as if expecting the person behind her to be the one getting detention.
Professor McMahn pushed her way through the tables until she was in front of Hermione, she looked down beadily at her and said, "no, you, pumpkin. You and Mr. Malfoy, detention at my office at 8. Don't be late, and to keep an eye on you maybe I should move you too."
Hermione stared up at amazement at Professor McMahn, she had never gotten detention before, except for the times Professor Snape gave it to her, but he was an incurable exception. She felt blood rushing to her face as she felt everyone stare at her. Especially Ron.
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Draco cursed under his breath, just to make his day worse, Goody-two-shoes had to site down next to him. He slided over on the bench reluctantly and gazed at the wooden table, in fake amazement. He quickly pulled up his sleeve and looked over at her.
She had put her stuff on the table and her hair was falling out of her ponytail. It was waving in her face yet she didn't care.
He looked at her closely, Man she looks terrible, he thought. She looked like someone who just had woken up 2 minutes ago and hurried to class. He shook his head, since when did he start thinking about the mudblood like this?
It made him weak.
The deaths affected him more than he knew. He was turning into a powerless low life. He couldn't take this anymore. Everywhere he turned, he saw her, her face smiling down on him, her arms welcoming him, her breath soothing him. she couldn't get her out of his head, even though she was dead.
The moment he came home, was the moment he had died. The moment it happened, was the moment he would never forget. And the stupid professor, whose voice passed through his ears, just annoyed him, the way she even looked slightly like her. Was enough to drive him crazy.
"I'VE HAD ENOUGH!" he pushed the desk over, spilling ink and paper all over the floor, the ink bottle smashed on the floor, the whole room fell silent, it was an eerie silence, like the one after a war. When the leader is defeated.
"Mr. Mal-"
He pushed his way past her and stormed out of the classroom. Nothing was enough to stop him, not even his mother…
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A/N: to tell you the honest truth. Last chapter was going to be my last chapter. I admit, I was kinda annoyed I didn't get that many reviews, but hey we live in a competitive world. My friend Ish talked me into writing more, so here I am, writing. I've decided I'm not going to request reviews. If you think my story is worthy, then review, if you think my story is horrible, then flame.
I'll upload in a week or so (from now on I'll update every week or so)
Yup see ya later peopleeee!!! Dream about Draco tons!