Breaking Storm
Disclaimer: don't own the characters, just the plot.
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Thanks to all my reviewers! And, btw, this chap is a few days after the last one.. Enjoy! And don't forget to review!
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chapter Three: Falling Tears
She had been crying again. He could see that the rims of her eyes were red, and her eyes were glazed and glossy, as she hastily kept wiping away her tears on her sleeve. But she tried to do it in a way no one would notice, and no one had, not yet.
Except him.
He found it almost amusing that no one at her blasted table had noticed it yet, yet he wasn't all that surprised. He had always thought Gryffindors were rather daft when it came to noticing what was right in front of them. In other words, they were blind little pricks who always got all the glory. He raised his glass to his lips, as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice, his eyes never straying from the pretty girl. He noticed she avoided looking up, or anywhere. She just looked down on her half empty plate, sniffling sometimes as she wiped her eyes quickly but slowly enough that no one would take notice. He put his glass back down, his pale silver eyes unwavering.
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Hermione's chest felt as if it was about to burst, as she held in her tears. She was rather grateful no one had noticed her yet, and was hoping she could keep it up. She closed her eyes a few times, trying to compose herself and tell herself that it was no use to be like this. She was never going to come back. She was gone.
But even thinking that thought almost brought her to tears again. Her bittersweet tears were fighting to let out, to spill down her cheeks and all she wanted to do was hold herself and cry. It wouldn't bring her back. Her mother. It wouldn't bring her back. But it did nothing to comfort her. It had been this morning, while she was looking for one of her textbooks, when she had come across on of her mother's letters. She had reread it again, and she could not fight the tears that poured out of her. Her soul wretched painfully inside, as she held it in her hands, her tears like raindrops blotting the neat ink words. It had been the letter she had sent her before the end of the year. She told her that she was proud of her, and that she couldn't wait until she got back.
Hermione's heart broke and she gasped in vast amounts of air as she held the letter close to her, wrinkling it and dampening it with her trembling hands and falling tears.
She knew she should have been over it by now.. But she just wasn't. She just wasn't. It had been just months, and still the pain was still unbearable. It felt like someone was gripping her throat with its deathly cold hands, strangling her, suffocating the air out of her lungs. Her soul was being ripped apart, torn open by hot knives of the painful past and memories. She felt as if her chest was going to explode, her heart intensely warm and pounding excruciatingly. Her face was wet and sticky with her tears, as they showed no sign of stopping or even weakening, as she crumpled down on her knees, sobbing. There was silence, her sobs shattering the once peaceful atmosphere. It echoed in her ears, as every single thing splintered and broke inside of her. She was alone just in the room, but yet she felt she was going to be alone for the rest of her life. The rest of the girls had already gone up to breakfast, so there was no one to try and comfort her.
She quickly put the letter back in the drawer, her hands shaking, as she went into the bathroom to try and clean herself up. The icy, cold water had shocked her tear-stained face, as it felt like it was piercing through her nerves. She had turned off the faucet and looked at herself in the mirror.
She was solemn, pale. Big, pained, dark brown eyes stared at her,. Her wavy, long hair went down her shoulders, her pink lips trembling. She inhaled a sharp breath, as she walked out of the bathroom and out of the dormitory. She held herself tightly, as she had walked down the empty corridor, the silence making her fears and hurt grow. Whispers and memories that stabbed her brutally and without mercy had all rushed back again, as she tried swallowing down the stone in her throat. Her feet felt wobbly, and her head felt light but at the same time too heavy to carry on her shoulders. She wished she could make it all go away, make it all vanish as if it had never been there. But she couldn't. They wouldn't let her.
And that hurt much worse.
She had told Harry and Ron about her mother's death, as they were both stunned to hear her news. She remembered something cloud over Harry's usually bright emerald eyes, as he held her close and she began to sob onto his chest. His strong, lean arms had tightened around her as he begun to tell her everything was going to be okay, and she wanted to scream at him because she knew it wasn't. She remembered wanting to hit him, wanting to yell and tell him that he knew too damn well that everything wasn't going to be okay. But instead she just let him hold her, as she let her tears fall freely and her heart struggling underneath that overbearing weight once again.
Ron had also embraced her, telling her that he was deeply sorry. But by that time she felt numb, so numb she couldn't feel her legs, or the sharp, jagged pieces of her broken heart that had fallen to the pit of her stomach. She couldn't feel a thing. She felt heavy, but it was a heavy load of emptiness. She remembered not ever feeling that way before.
She felt her tears start to pour out again, as she tried to blink them back. But one fell down onto the palm of her hands, and she knew that the barrier she had tried to put up had broken. She quickly stood up, wiping the tears from her eyes, as she started to walk out of the Great Hall. She could hear Harry's shouts and calls behind her, but she paid no mind to them as she broke into a run and ran out.
The tears came out harder and heavier as she ran down the corridor, her footsteps and sobs echoing. Her eyes stung, as her heart pounded inside her chest, her palms hot and sweaty. She ran to the library, without giving it a single thought.
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Draco watched her as a single tear slid down her cheek, and she started to blink furiously. He felt something inside him call out, but it was muffled and faint. Suddenly his stomach felt hollow, cold and icy and painfully empty. He had never felt this before, and he knew almost instantly that it was because of her. She was making him feel this. And although the thought angered him slightly, he could not tear his eyes away from her. Now she was wiping them away quicker, and he could feel his hands clench underneath the table. His nerves buzzed and hummed, his chest feeling warm but bitter with frost. He watched her as she suddenly stood, and he hadn't realized until a moment later that he was shaking.
She turned and started walking towards the Great Hall's doors, and he could see Harry Potter call out to her, and her table watching her, confused. He watched the raven-haired boy, as his gaze lingered on the doors, his eyebrows furrowed in worry and confusion. His red haired friend beside him tugged at his sleeve and he turned. He said something to him that Draco could not make out, but Harry gave one last look at the doors, before nodding. Draco waited until everyone had gone back to their business, and without thinking, got up and strode out of the Great Hall.
His robe flowed behind him, as he walked fast down the corridor. His heart was pounding, his hands still clenched into fists, as his mind was only on Hermione.. And getting to the library. He didn't have a clue as to why or how he knew she would be in the library, but something in his gut that she would always be there if he needed to find her.. He shook that thought away as he neared the library doors, which were closed, but he could tell that someone had just come in. It hadn't been closed all the way.
He snuck inside, the door creaking softly as he closed it. He stepped inside, as he heard muffled sobs. He felt his heart hammer in his chest as he walked towards the last shelf at the back of the library. His footsteps were quiet and faint, as he walked down the shelves, until he could spy a brown haired girl through the gaps of the books on the shelves behind her. He stopped abruptly, and swallowed hard, well aware that his heart was urging him to go on, while his brain was sending him mixed messages. His hands were sweating, as he watched her through the bookshelf. He walked into the aisle behind her, as he pressed against the bookshelf gently, his hand on the one of the book's sides. He watched, as he felt his sharp gray eyes soften at the sight of her.
Her face was covered with her hands, but he could see her tears around the edges of her palm and wrists. He saw that her body trembled, as she took in big breaths. He could feel his heart, deep down inside, buckle under the feelings that the sight of her so destroyed and hurt gave him. It made him feel as if his throat had closed up, his chest compacted tightly together and chained down to the floor, whilst his body was standing straight up. His heart felt as if it were being bent and twisted painfully, all his thoughts scattered and disoriented. Just then he felt anger crackle through him again, and he grasped the book's end tightly. He felt his forearm's muscle tighten, as he suddenly felt the urge to take the book and thrust it against the wall. He closed his eyes firmly, as his fingers fastened around the book tighter, trying to swallow but found it was much too hard. He leaned his forehead against the shelf, trying to calm his heart and thoughts. Her sobs echoed around him, ringing in his ears and making it so unbearable. His fist clenched rigidly, until he could feel his nails digging into his skin. Suddenly, before he knew it, he had swung his hand back and the book fell to the floor, landing with a firm bang on the floor. His breathing was hard, as his eyes remained closed. Hermione's sobs stopped, as she looked up. Her eyes darted to the shelf in front of her, to the main desk.
"Who's there?" She asked, her voice faint and shaky. Draco sighed, as he opened his eyes slowly. He bent down to pick up the book, before he walked over to her aisle.
"Relax, Granger. It's only me," he said to her, his voice expressionless. She stared at him with her pained, brown eyes. He watched her, holding the fallen book in his hand. She started trying to wipe away her tears, as she dug her face in her hands once again. Draco heard her ragged breaths, as her body shook and trembled with every deep breath she took. He felt a cold, slight rip at the edge of his heart. He dug in his robe pocket and took out a handkerchief. He held it out to her, waiting. She didn't budge.
Hermione heard a soft rustle as he kneeled down to level with her. She felt something tug on her shoulder. She looked up, and his silver eyes bore into her. She felt flutters in her stomach, as she realized how close he was. Then she noticed he was holding out a snow-white handkerchief, with the letters 'DM' embroided on it. She stared at him, not exactly knowing if she should take it or not.
"Here," he said to her, his voice quiet. She took it from him, gently, as she wiped her eyes. She couldn't believe how soft it felt on her skin. It felt almost like silk, but more softer and velvety. She sniffled, as she noticed how hard her heart seemed to beating.
Draco watched her, as she wiped the tears from her cheeks and eyes. He felt something strange inside him, flickering and quivering. Something strong and intense.. Something warm and glowing that seemed to spread through him from the tips of his hair to his toes.
"Care to share what happened?" He asked her, his voice surprisingly soft. She was amazed at how his voice seemed so gentle, when it wasn't filled with scorn and sarcasm. She looked at him, as she searched his deep gray eyes. There wasn't any sign of mischief, or amusement. They were serious, but she could not read them. His dim silver eyes also searched her deep brown eyes, and he felt something rising inside him.. It seemed to reach his throat, as suddenly he felt as if he could no longer speak. She turned away and looked at the book filled shelf in front of her, her brown eyes sad.
"I.. I just miss her, that's all," she said softly. "I just.. I don't think I can ever get over it."
"It takes time, Granger," he said to her, no hint of derision or sarcasm in his voice. She was silent for a few moments, before answering in a whisper.
"I guess it does." He tried to search her expression, as she stared frozen- like on the bookshelf. Her face seemed deathly pale, her eyes still red and puffy, her wavy brown hair spread on her shoulders.
He couldn't help but think how she really didn't look like the other girls he had ever seen. She wasn't ordinary, or harsh and cruel in any way. She was beautiful, in a sense. Her face was soft and gentle looking, as it looked like she had been made to be gentle and kind. Her brown eyes could manage to melt everything inside of him without even trying, even making him lose his breath at times. Suddenly her soft voice rang in his ears.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" She asked, barely audible. But he had heard it, as it chimed loudly in his ears. He just stared at her, his gaze unwavering. Hermione was afraid to turn his way.
She knew if she did he would be able to see everything. To see what she was really feeling. For him. And she didn't need that, didn't want it. Not right now. Not when her mind and conscience was telling her to just push him away and walk out. It just wasn't right. He had been nice to her, but she didn't think he should know what he was making her feel.
Draco's eyes traveled down to her creamy, smooth hands. Her fingers were curled gently around his handkerchief, as he looked back up at her. His deep silver eyes were dark and cloudy, as he stood up and brushed himself off. Hermione lowered her eyes in disappointment.
"We'd better get going," he said to her. "We're going to be late for class."
She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to refocus and order her thoughts. She tried to ignore the flurry of flutters in her stomach, and the heavy beats of her heart as she stood up. She met his gaze, as he watched her. She held out his handkerchief to him, the soft fabric caressing her fingertips.
"Keep it," he said to her, before turning to walk out the library. Hermione stared at the handkerchief she held between her fingers, and the letters on it in dark emerald letters. DM.
She sighed, as she looked after him, already about to reach the doors. She gently put it in the pocket of her robe, and followed after him.
Disclaimer: don't own the characters, just the plot.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Thanks to all my reviewers! And, btw, this chap is a few days after the last one.. Enjoy! And don't forget to review!
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chapter Three: Falling Tears
She had been crying again. He could see that the rims of her eyes were red, and her eyes were glazed and glossy, as she hastily kept wiping away her tears on her sleeve. But she tried to do it in a way no one would notice, and no one had, not yet.
Except him.
He found it almost amusing that no one at her blasted table had noticed it yet, yet he wasn't all that surprised. He had always thought Gryffindors were rather daft when it came to noticing what was right in front of them. In other words, they were blind little pricks who always got all the glory. He raised his glass to his lips, as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice, his eyes never straying from the pretty girl. He noticed she avoided looking up, or anywhere. She just looked down on her half empty plate, sniffling sometimes as she wiped her eyes quickly but slowly enough that no one would take notice. He put his glass back down, his pale silver eyes unwavering.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Hermione's chest felt as if it was about to burst, as she held in her tears. She was rather grateful no one had noticed her yet, and was hoping she could keep it up. She closed her eyes a few times, trying to compose herself and tell herself that it was no use to be like this. She was never going to come back. She was gone.
But even thinking that thought almost brought her to tears again. Her bittersweet tears were fighting to let out, to spill down her cheeks and all she wanted to do was hold herself and cry. It wouldn't bring her back. Her mother. It wouldn't bring her back. But it did nothing to comfort her. It had been this morning, while she was looking for one of her textbooks, when she had come across on of her mother's letters. She had reread it again, and she could not fight the tears that poured out of her. Her soul wretched painfully inside, as she held it in her hands, her tears like raindrops blotting the neat ink words. It had been the letter she had sent her before the end of the year. She told her that she was proud of her, and that she couldn't wait until she got back.
Hermione's heart broke and she gasped in vast amounts of air as she held the letter close to her, wrinkling it and dampening it with her trembling hands and falling tears.
She knew she should have been over it by now.. But she just wasn't. She just wasn't. It had been just months, and still the pain was still unbearable. It felt like someone was gripping her throat with its deathly cold hands, strangling her, suffocating the air out of her lungs. Her soul was being ripped apart, torn open by hot knives of the painful past and memories. She felt as if her chest was going to explode, her heart intensely warm and pounding excruciatingly. Her face was wet and sticky with her tears, as they showed no sign of stopping or even weakening, as she crumpled down on her knees, sobbing. There was silence, her sobs shattering the once peaceful atmosphere. It echoed in her ears, as every single thing splintered and broke inside of her. She was alone just in the room, but yet she felt she was going to be alone for the rest of her life. The rest of the girls had already gone up to breakfast, so there was no one to try and comfort her.
She quickly put the letter back in the drawer, her hands shaking, as she went into the bathroom to try and clean herself up. The icy, cold water had shocked her tear-stained face, as it felt like it was piercing through her nerves. She had turned off the faucet and looked at herself in the mirror.
She was solemn, pale. Big, pained, dark brown eyes stared at her,. Her wavy, long hair went down her shoulders, her pink lips trembling. She inhaled a sharp breath, as she walked out of the bathroom and out of the dormitory. She held herself tightly, as she had walked down the empty corridor, the silence making her fears and hurt grow. Whispers and memories that stabbed her brutally and without mercy had all rushed back again, as she tried swallowing down the stone in her throat. Her feet felt wobbly, and her head felt light but at the same time too heavy to carry on her shoulders. She wished she could make it all go away, make it all vanish as if it had never been there. But she couldn't. They wouldn't let her.
And that hurt much worse.
She had told Harry and Ron about her mother's death, as they were both stunned to hear her news. She remembered something cloud over Harry's usually bright emerald eyes, as he held her close and she began to sob onto his chest. His strong, lean arms had tightened around her as he begun to tell her everything was going to be okay, and she wanted to scream at him because she knew it wasn't. She remembered wanting to hit him, wanting to yell and tell him that he knew too damn well that everything wasn't going to be okay. But instead she just let him hold her, as she let her tears fall freely and her heart struggling underneath that overbearing weight once again.
Ron had also embraced her, telling her that he was deeply sorry. But by that time she felt numb, so numb she couldn't feel her legs, or the sharp, jagged pieces of her broken heart that had fallen to the pit of her stomach. She couldn't feel a thing. She felt heavy, but it was a heavy load of emptiness. She remembered not ever feeling that way before.
She felt her tears start to pour out again, as she tried to blink them back. But one fell down onto the palm of her hands, and she knew that the barrier she had tried to put up had broken. She quickly stood up, wiping the tears from her eyes, as she started to walk out of the Great Hall. She could hear Harry's shouts and calls behind her, but she paid no mind to them as she broke into a run and ran out.
The tears came out harder and heavier as she ran down the corridor, her footsteps and sobs echoing. Her eyes stung, as her heart pounded inside her chest, her palms hot and sweaty. She ran to the library, without giving it a single thought.
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Draco watched her as a single tear slid down her cheek, and she started to blink furiously. He felt something inside him call out, but it was muffled and faint. Suddenly his stomach felt hollow, cold and icy and painfully empty. He had never felt this before, and he knew almost instantly that it was because of her. She was making him feel this. And although the thought angered him slightly, he could not tear his eyes away from her. Now she was wiping them away quicker, and he could feel his hands clench underneath the table. His nerves buzzed and hummed, his chest feeling warm but bitter with frost. He watched her as she suddenly stood, and he hadn't realized until a moment later that he was shaking.
She turned and started walking towards the Great Hall's doors, and he could see Harry Potter call out to her, and her table watching her, confused. He watched the raven-haired boy, as his gaze lingered on the doors, his eyebrows furrowed in worry and confusion. His red haired friend beside him tugged at his sleeve and he turned. He said something to him that Draco could not make out, but Harry gave one last look at the doors, before nodding. Draco waited until everyone had gone back to their business, and without thinking, got up and strode out of the Great Hall.
His robe flowed behind him, as he walked fast down the corridor. His heart was pounding, his hands still clenched into fists, as his mind was only on Hermione.. And getting to the library. He didn't have a clue as to why or how he knew she would be in the library, but something in his gut that she would always be there if he needed to find her.. He shook that thought away as he neared the library doors, which were closed, but he could tell that someone had just come in. It hadn't been closed all the way.
He snuck inside, the door creaking softly as he closed it. He stepped inside, as he heard muffled sobs. He felt his heart hammer in his chest as he walked towards the last shelf at the back of the library. His footsteps were quiet and faint, as he walked down the shelves, until he could spy a brown haired girl through the gaps of the books on the shelves behind her. He stopped abruptly, and swallowed hard, well aware that his heart was urging him to go on, while his brain was sending him mixed messages. His hands were sweating, as he watched her through the bookshelf. He walked into the aisle behind her, as he pressed against the bookshelf gently, his hand on the one of the book's sides. He watched, as he felt his sharp gray eyes soften at the sight of her.
Her face was covered with her hands, but he could see her tears around the edges of her palm and wrists. He saw that her body trembled, as she took in big breaths. He could feel his heart, deep down inside, buckle under the feelings that the sight of her so destroyed and hurt gave him. It made him feel as if his throat had closed up, his chest compacted tightly together and chained down to the floor, whilst his body was standing straight up. His heart felt as if it were being bent and twisted painfully, all his thoughts scattered and disoriented. Just then he felt anger crackle through him again, and he grasped the book's end tightly. He felt his forearm's muscle tighten, as he suddenly felt the urge to take the book and thrust it against the wall. He closed his eyes firmly, as his fingers fastened around the book tighter, trying to swallow but found it was much too hard. He leaned his forehead against the shelf, trying to calm his heart and thoughts. Her sobs echoed around him, ringing in his ears and making it so unbearable. His fist clenched rigidly, until he could feel his nails digging into his skin. Suddenly, before he knew it, he had swung his hand back and the book fell to the floor, landing with a firm bang on the floor. His breathing was hard, as his eyes remained closed. Hermione's sobs stopped, as she looked up. Her eyes darted to the shelf in front of her, to the main desk.
"Who's there?" She asked, her voice faint and shaky. Draco sighed, as he opened his eyes slowly. He bent down to pick up the book, before he walked over to her aisle.
"Relax, Granger. It's only me," he said to her, his voice expressionless. She stared at him with her pained, brown eyes. He watched her, holding the fallen book in his hand. She started trying to wipe away her tears, as she dug her face in her hands once again. Draco heard her ragged breaths, as her body shook and trembled with every deep breath she took. He felt a cold, slight rip at the edge of his heart. He dug in his robe pocket and took out a handkerchief. He held it out to her, waiting. She didn't budge.
Hermione heard a soft rustle as he kneeled down to level with her. She felt something tug on her shoulder. She looked up, and his silver eyes bore into her. She felt flutters in her stomach, as she realized how close he was. Then she noticed he was holding out a snow-white handkerchief, with the letters 'DM' embroided on it. She stared at him, not exactly knowing if she should take it or not.
"Here," he said to her, his voice quiet. She took it from him, gently, as she wiped her eyes. She couldn't believe how soft it felt on her skin. It felt almost like silk, but more softer and velvety. She sniffled, as she noticed how hard her heart seemed to beating.
Draco watched her, as she wiped the tears from her cheeks and eyes. He felt something strange inside him, flickering and quivering. Something strong and intense.. Something warm and glowing that seemed to spread through him from the tips of his hair to his toes.
"Care to share what happened?" He asked her, his voice surprisingly soft. She was amazed at how his voice seemed so gentle, when it wasn't filled with scorn and sarcasm. She looked at him, as she searched his deep gray eyes. There wasn't any sign of mischief, or amusement. They were serious, but she could not read them. His dim silver eyes also searched her deep brown eyes, and he felt something rising inside him.. It seemed to reach his throat, as suddenly he felt as if he could no longer speak. She turned away and looked at the book filled shelf in front of her, her brown eyes sad.
"I.. I just miss her, that's all," she said softly. "I just.. I don't think I can ever get over it."
"It takes time, Granger," he said to her, no hint of derision or sarcasm in his voice. She was silent for a few moments, before answering in a whisper.
"I guess it does." He tried to search her expression, as she stared frozen- like on the bookshelf. Her face seemed deathly pale, her eyes still red and puffy, her wavy brown hair spread on her shoulders.
He couldn't help but think how she really didn't look like the other girls he had ever seen. She wasn't ordinary, or harsh and cruel in any way. She was beautiful, in a sense. Her face was soft and gentle looking, as it looked like she had been made to be gentle and kind. Her brown eyes could manage to melt everything inside of him without even trying, even making him lose his breath at times. Suddenly her soft voice rang in his ears.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" She asked, barely audible. But he had heard it, as it chimed loudly in his ears. He just stared at her, his gaze unwavering. Hermione was afraid to turn his way.
She knew if she did he would be able to see everything. To see what she was really feeling. For him. And she didn't need that, didn't want it. Not right now. Not when her mind and conscience was telling her to just push him away and walk out. It just wasn't right. He had been nice to her, but she didn't think he should know what he was making her feel.
Draco's eyes traveled down to her creamy, smooth hands. Her fingers were curled gently around his handkerchief, as he looked back up at her. His deep silver eyes were dark and cloudy, as he stood up and brushed himself off. Hermione lowered her eyes in disappointment.
"We'd better get going," he said to her. "We're going to be late for class."
She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to refocus and order her thoughts. She tried to ignore the flurry of flutters in her stomach, and the heavy beats of her heart as she stood up. She met his gaze, as he watched her. She held out his handkerchief to him, the soft fabric caressing her fingertips.
"Keep it," he said to her, before turning to walk out the library. Hermione stared at the handkerchief she held between her fingers, and the letters on it in dark emerald letters. DM.
She sighed, as she looked after him, already about to reach the doors. She gently put it in the pocket of her robe, and followed after him.