Face your fears. Live your dreams.
She ran. Harder and faster, faster and harder. He scared her when he was like this. The image of him towering over her, with narrowed eyes and creased brow, was terrifying. She pushed the thought from her head and tried to focus on her breathing instead, which was harsh and ragged. In, out, in, out. What had made him mad this time? In, out, in, out. Her cheek still stung where he had hit her. In, out, in out. Tears were welling up in her eyes. In, out, in, out. Trees were flashing by. In, out, in, out. She tried to ignore the pain welling up from within. In, out, in, out. She tripped over a rock, stumbled, and fell. The smell of the damp earth overwhelmed her. And there she lay, curled up with her hands covering her face, sobbing wildly until she calmed, and was reduced to silent tears.
By the time Hermione had crept back in, her tear-stained cheeks were dry, and her breathing had returned to normal. Draco was waiting for her in the lounge. A pill bottle was lying by his feet. He looked up when she came in, making Hermione flinch, as his eyes seemed to strike her as hard as he did. He spread his arms, an invitation for her to come and be held, reassured. There was a burning desire in her to turn and run, but she didn't dare. She crept towards him, and settled on his lap. "Hermione..." Draco began. Hermione knew what was coming. The little story that followed, about how much he was sorry and would never harm her again-topped off by a nice little present that would wait for her on her bedside table tomorrow morning. Sure enough, what followed was a myriad of excuses and cover up stories, apologies and promises. Then... "You trust me though, Hermione, don't you?" Draco said. Hermione hesitated- then saw Draco's eyes-on the verge of narrowing dangerously and hastily answered. "Yes Draco... of course." Liar. "And you'll always love me, and keep quiet when it comes to our little bad patches, won't you Hermione?" "Yes Draco... always." Liar. "Tell me you love me Hermione." "I love you Draco." Liar! The word reverberated around her head. Lies, lies, lies, lies. There seemed to be no escape from them when you lived with Draco.
Eventually they went off to bed, and while Draco fell asleep straight away, Hermione lay awake, staring through the gloom at the picture that was hung up opposite their bed. It was a photograph of a Trinisweep (a new wizarding sport which is similar to surfing) player, facing a monstrous wave, and was captioned at the bottom: "Face your fears. Live your dreams." Hermione loved the picture. She enjoyed ocean-sports. The message that came across to her was direct and strong, yet she could not do it. She could not face the wave. Draco. She had tried so many times, and had even got as far as packing her bags until he came in and demanded what she was doing. Hermione back-paddled down the wave after that, and abandoned her Triniboard. She never tried again. She was frightened-frightened of Draco; the towering wave, which threatened to crush her every time she dared, approached it. Carefully, so as not to awake Draco, she pushed back the covers and slid out of bed. She crept towards the end of the bed, and stood directly in front of the poster. Even in the gathering darkness, she could still make out the way the water glittered on the water, as if the wave had been strewn with diamonds. The Trinisweeper was sitting on his Triniboard, peering up at the wave, poised and ready to live his dreams. Hermione took a step closer to the picture, and put her hands up to the picture. As soon as her fingertip touched the glistening mass, she felt herself tumble head first through the glass on the flame, which had become soft and flexible, and into the fathomless ocean.
The light blinded her, even with her eyes half-closed. She lifted her head groggily. And woke up with a snap. She was sitting on a surfboard, in her now sodden pajamas. And looming over her, growing steadily bigger with an intense roar... the wave. She froze, terrified, and she could have sworn her heart had stopped. What- how had this happened? Had she passed out? She had little time to think. The wave, it seemed, was alive... it growled, a deep throaty rumble, as if to challenge her. The ripples of the wave were moving towards the centre of the wave. The clustered there and formed... Hermione gasped. Draco's face, a mass of writhing ripples, leered down at her. The roaring in Hermione's ears grew louder, deafening her. It taunted her. You can't beat me Hermione, you can't face your fears, you can't, you can't you can't you can't... Hermione felt a sudden burst of anger. It was red-hot and passionate, as if someone had lit a fire in her. How could he do that, how dare he, he has no right... And so she paddled. She pulled with every inch of strength she had, ablaze with hatred. The wave pulled her down, but she persisted, she wouldn't give up, she could do this, she could beat him... She was at the top of the wave. She shakily got to her knees on the board, peering downwards at the writhing mass of ripples, which were glaring at her, eyes narrowed. Unsteadily, she got to her feet, and bent her knees a little to keep the balance. The roar of the wave grew, louder and louder, until the sound almost knocked her from the surfboard. But she ignored it, and rode the wave like she knew she could, with power and determination. The anger and hatred was disappearing, and had been replaced by ecstasy. Draco knew he had been beaten. The snarl died, and the ripples fell back into abstract positions. Hermione, overjoyed and exhausted, toppled from the board, and tumbled into the water.
She awoke the next morning, on her bed, her pajamas still slightly damp. The thrill, left over from her fire of anger, still glowed like embers. Draco had left for work. Or so he said. Usually, it seemed, he was hanging around alleyways, waiting for drug-dealers. That explained his nature. Not that I'm going to take THAT for an excuse.
By the time Draco had returned from "work", Hermione's bags were packed with everything she owned, including the picture that had changed Hermione's life, and waited for her at the door. Hermione herself was sitting in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Draco came into the kitchen and spotted Hermione. His eyes were narrowed. "Where are you going?" he demanded. Obviously, thought Hermione, he's seen the bags by the door. "Sit down, Draco." said Hermione. She said it devoid of emotion. Draco, confused, sat down on the hard plastic chair. "These are the lies I have told you." Draco blinked, and his eyes were reduced, once again, to slits. "I said I loved you. I said I trusted you. And I said I would never tell anyone about what you have done to me. I lied. I do not love you. I never trusted you-" She hesitated, as Draco, who looked murderous, had leapt to his feet and raised an arm to strike a blow. "-And if you lay a hand on me, I shall tell everyone, about what you have done to me." Hermione's eyes were as cold as ice as she glared at Draco, who had stopped, poised, his arm still raised. And there she left him, with a vein throbbing in his temple, narrowed eyes and gritted teeth. She picked up her bags and walked out of the house, a savage joy filling her heart.
Face your fears. Live your dreams.
A/N: Please, please, PLEASE review this fan fiction! It is my very first and I'd like to see what others think! Tell me if you'd want me to add more.
She ran. Harder and faster, faster and harder. He scared her when he was like this. The image of him towering over her, with narrowed eyes and creased brow, was terrifying. She pushed the thought from her head and tried to focus on her breathing instead, which was harsh and ragged. In, out, in, out. What had made him mad this time? In, out, in, out. Her cheek still stung where he had hit her. In, out, in out. Tears were welling up in her eyes. In, out, in, out. Trees were flashing by. In, out, in, out. She tried to ignore the pain welling up from within. In, out, in, out. She tripped over a rock, stumbled, and fell. The smell of the damp earth overwhelmed her. And there she lay, curled up with her hands covering her face, sobbing wildly until she calmed, and was reduced to silent tears.
By the time Hermione had crept back in, her tear-stained cheeks were dry, and her breathing had returned to normal. Draco was waiting for her in the lounge. A pill bottle was lying by his feet. He looked up when she came in, making Hermione flinch, as his eyes seemed to strike her as hard as he did. He spread his arms, an invitation for her to come and be held, reassured. There was a burning desire in her to turn and run, but she didn't dare. She crept towards him, and settled on his lap. "Hermione..." Draco began. Hermione knew what was coming. The little story that followed, about how much he was sorry and would never harm her again-topped off by a nice little present that would wait for her on her bedside table tomorrow morning. Sure enough, what followed was a myriad of excuses and cover up stories, apologies and promises. Then... "You trust me though, Hermione, don't you?" Draco said. Hermione hesitated- then saw Draco's eyes-on the verge of narrowing dangerously and hastily answered. "Yes Draco... of course." Liar. "And you'll always love me, and keep quiet when it comes to our little bad patches, won't you Hermione?" "Yes Draco... always." Liar. "Tell me you love me Hermione." "I love you Draco." Liar! The word reverberated around her head. Lies, lies, lies, lies. There seemed to be no escape from them when you lived with Draco.
Eventually they went off to bed, and while Draco fell asleep straight away, Hermione lay awake, staring through the gloom at the picture that was hung up opposite their bed. It was a photograph of a Trinisweep (a new wizarding sport which is similar to surfing) player, facing a monstrous wave, and was captioned at the bottom: "Face your fears. Live your dreams." Hermione loved the picture. She enjoyed ocean-sports. The message that came across to her was direct and strong, yet she could not do it. She could not face the wave. Draco. She had tried so many times, and had even got as far as packing her bags until he came in and demanded what she was doing. Hermione back-paddled down the wave after that, and abandoned her Triniboard. She never tried again. She was frightened-frightened of Draco; the towering wave, which threatened to crush her every time she dared, approached it. Carefully, so as not to awake Draco, she pushed back the covers and slid out of bed. She crept towards the end of the bed, and stood directly in front of the poster. Even in the gathering darkness, she could still make out the way the water glittered on the water, as if the wave had been strewn with diamonds. The Trinisweeper was sitting on his Triniboard, peering up at the wave, poised and ready to live his dreams. Hermione took a step closer to the picture, and put her hands up to the picture. As soon as her fingertip touched the glistening mass, she felt herself tumble head first through the glass on the flame, which had become soft and flexible, and into the fathomless ocean.
The light blinded her, even with her eyes half-closed. She lifted her head groggily. And woke up with a snap. She was sitting on a surfboard, in her now sodden pajamas. And looming over her, growing steadily bigger with an intense roar... the wave. She froze, terrified, and she could have sworn her heart had stopped. What- how had this happened? Had she passed out? She had little time to think. The wave, it seemed, was alive... it growled, a deep throaty rumble, as if to challenge her. The ripples of the wave were moving towards the centre of the wave. The clustered there and formed... Hermione gasped. Draco's face, a mass of writhing ripples, leered down at her. The roaring in Hermione's ears grew louder, deafening her. It taunted her. You can't beat me Hermione, you can't face your fears, you can't, you can't you can't you can't... Hermione felt a sudden burst of anger. It was red-hot and passionate, as if someone had lit a fire in her. How could he do that, how dare he, he has no right... And so she paddled. She pulled with every inch of strength she had, ablaze with hatred. The wave pulled her down, but she persisted, she wouldn't give up, she could do this, she could beat him... She was at the top of the wave. She shakily got to her knees on the board, peering downwards at the writhing mass of ripples, which were glaring at her, eyes narrowed. Unsteadily, she got to her feet, and bent her knees a little to keep the balance. The roar of the wave grew, louder and louder, until the sound almost knocked her from the surfboard. But she ignored it, and rode the wave like she knew she could, with power and determination. The anger and hatred was disappearing, and had been replaced by ecstasy. Draco knew he had been beaten. The snarl died, and the ripples fell back into abstract positions. Hermione, overjoyed and exhausted, toppled from the board, and tumbled into the water.
She awoke the next morning, on her bed, her pajamas still slightly damp. The thrill, left over from her fire of anger, still glowed like embers. Draco had left for work. Or so he said. Usually, it seemed, he was hanging around alleyways, waiting for drug-dealers. That explained his nature. Not that I'm going to take THAT for an excuse.
By the time Draco had returned from "work", Hermione's bags were packed with everything she owned, including the picture that had changed Hermione's life, and waited for her at the door. Hermione herself was sitting in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Draco came into the kitchen and spotted Hermione. His eyes were narrowed. "Where are you going?" he demanded. Obviously, thought Hermione, he's seen the bags by the door. "Sit down, Draco." said Hermione. She said it devoid of emotion. Draco, confused, sat down on the hard plastic chair. "These are the lies I have told you." Draco blinked, and his eyes were reduced, once again, to slits. "I said I loved you. I said I trusted you. And I said I would never tell anyone about what you have done to me. I lied. I do not love you. I never trusted you-" She hesitated, as Draco, who looked murderous, had leapt to his feet and raised an arm to strike a blow. "-And if you lay a hand on me, I shall tell everyone, about what you have done to me." Hermione's eyes were as cold as ice as she glared at Draco, who had stopped, poised, his arm still raised. And there she left him, with a vein throbbing in his temple, narrowed eyes and gritted teeth. She picked up her bags and walked out of the house, a savage joy filling her heart.
Face your fears. Live your dreams.
A/N: Please, please, PLEASE review this fan fiction! It is my very first and I'd like to see what others think! Tell me if you'd want me to add more.