Disclaimer: In fact, I DO own Harry Potter, and all other characters. I
wish..
This is in Hermione's POV. I found it's easier to write in. I have a hard time getting into male's minds.
- - - - - - - - -
"Beep, Beep, Beep!" My muggle alarm clock tears across my peaceful dreams and jerks me into being awake.
I hit it off quickly and look at the time. It went off an hour earlier than it was supposed to. This should help me relax, at the thought of going back to sleep, but a terror awaits me. My sudden jerk woke him up.
I don't know what I was thinking. Perhaps I was hoping morning would never come, and I would never have to face him. He's moved beside me now, and he's rubbing his face.
He looks up at me with a pale, tired face. I feel a sudden surge of pain. Poor guy. I reach out my hand to stroke his cheek but he moves his head and stands up.
He's rubbing the back of his head, as he stands. "Well," He begins slowly with a groggy voice. "Bye," He turns to leave, and the thought of him leaving on his own scares me to death.
"Don't. Don't go," I manage to say, even though my voice felt like it couldn't talk.
He looks like he's about to refuse, but to my surprise gives in and sits on the bed.
"Why didn't you tell anyone, Draco?" I ask. I want to know how to help him. How we can make everything right.
"Tell them what?" He lifts a brow to me.
"About how you were feeling. They could have helped you,"
He smirks at me suddenly. "And how exactly was I feeling?" He's teasing me! I'll have his head!
I take a deep breath. "Don't play games,"
"I'd rather," He says looking over his wrist. He nudges his head in the direction of them. "When I pay attention to life this happens. No. Games are much better,"
I grab ahold of his hands and put them on my lap. I slowly begin to undo the cloth bandages. Their dirty and blood soaked.
I notice something that's chilling. He's got scars. Not just scars that came when I cast my spells last night, but scars that look old. Years upon years old.
I look up at him worried, and he shrugs. I think he knows what I'm worried about.
"How long have you cut," The beginning of my sentence was stopped by his already knowing answer.
"I've made a habit of it since I was around nine years old," He replies casually. As if it happens all the time to everyone.
I stare at him dumbfounded. How does he expect me to take this? Is he even telling the truth?
"You aren't serious are you?" I gasp at him.
"It's perfectly normal. I thought I'd out grow it," He's starring at his wrists again. He looks so lost.
"What's normal about slashing your wrists? Draco it's suicidal!"
"Well, there isn't much to live for in this world anyway," He grumbles.
I let out a sigh. This is going to take awhile.
"How did you learn to," I pause trying to find the words. "You know,"
"Father thought me when he was drunk once," He's looking up at the ceiling.
"That's awful. How old were you?"
"Enough," He says turning to look at me. I hit a nerve. "I'm not going to be studied out," He almost hisses it.
We sat in silence for awhile. He was beginning to open up at least. His head suddenly falls onto my shoulder and I look at him.
He's got a tired look in his eyes, and he yawns. "How much longer until we have to go to breakfast?" He mumbles softly.
I lean over and look at the clock. "Forty-five minutes,"
He lets out a groan, and buries his head in my shoulder. I smile at him and begin to stroke his hand. I never really let go of it.
That's how we spent the rest of the time before breakfast. When the time did come, I had to wake him up again. He fell asleep against my shoulder. I wondered how he was going to make it through classes for the rest of the day.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes for awhile. Before he stood up and left he bent over and kissed my forehead.
"I'll be seeing you," He said rather gently and left.
I just starred at the door for awhile and then decided I should get ready.
With in a few minutes I was running down the hall trying to make it to breakfast the same time as Harry and Ron.
Just as I sit down, the conversation takes a bad turn. Both the Weasley twins move across from us. They seemed to have found out something exciting. I pray it's about Ron.
"So Hermione," Says George with a smirk on his face. "Tell me why that painting in the hall says Draco came out of your room this morning,"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Wow my first try at a cliff hanger. Go me! I know this chapter was short, but I really didn't plan on writing more. Well, now I am. I'll be updating this soon of course.
Please review! Please? I'm asking nicely....
This is in Hermione's POV. I found it's easier to write in. I have a hard time getting into male's minds.
- - - - - - - - -
"Beep, Beep, Beep!" My muggle alarm clock tears across my peaceful dreams and jerks me into being awake.
I hit it off quickly and look at the time. It went off an hour earlier than it was supposed to. This should help me relax, at the thought of going back to sleep, but a terror awaits me. My sudden jerk woke him up.
I don't know what I was thinking. Perhaps I was hoping morning would never come, and I would never have to face him. He's moved beside me now, and he's rubbing his face.
He looks up at me with a pale, tired face. I feel a sudden surge of pain. Poor guy. I reach out my hand to stroke his cheek but he moves his head and stands up.
He's rubbing the back of his head, as he stands. "Well," He begins slowly with a groggy voice. "Bye," He turns to leave, and the thought of him leaving on his own scares me to death.
"Don't. Don't go," I manage to say, even though my voice felt like it couldn't talk.
He looks like he's about to refuse, but to my surprise gives in and sits on the bed.
"Why didn't you tell anyone, Draco?" I ask. I want to know how to help him. How we can make everything right.
"Tell them what?" He lifts a brow to me.
"About how you were feeling. They could have helped you,"
He smirks at me suddenly. "And how exactly was I feeling?" He's teasing me! I'll have his head!
I take a deep breath. "Don't play games,"
"I'd rather," He says looking over his wrist. He nudges his head in the direction of them. "When I pay attention to life this happens. No. Games are much better,"
I grab ahold of his hands and put them on my lap. I slowly begin to undo the cloth bandages. Their dirty and blood soaked.
I notice something that's chilling. He's got scars. Not just scars that came when I cast my spells last night, but scars that look old. Years upon years old.
I look up at him worried, and he shrugs. I think he knows what I'm worried about.
"How long have you cut," The beginning of my sentence was stopped by his already knowing answer.
"I've made a habit of it since I was around nine years old," He replies casually. As if it happens all the time to everyone.
I stare at him dumbfounded. How does he expect me to take this? Is he even telling the truth?
"You aren't serious are you?" I gasp at him.
"It's perfectly normal. I thought I'd out grow it," He's starring at his wrists again. He looks so lost.
"What's normal about slashing your wrists? Draco it's suicidal!"
"Well, there isn't much to live for in this world anyway," He grumbles.
I let out a sigh. This is going to take awhile.
"How did you learn to," I pause trying to find the words. "You know,"
"Father thought me when he was drunk once," He's looking up at the ceiling.
"That's awful. How old were you?"
"Enough," He says turning to look at me. I hit a nerve. "I'm not going to be studied out," He almost hisses it.
We sat in silence for awhile. He was beginning to open up at least. His head suddenly falls onto my shoulder and I look at him.
He's got a tired look in his eyes, and he yawns. "How much longer until we have to go to breakfast?" He mumbles softly.
I lean over and look at the clock. "Forty-five minutes,"
He lets out a groan, and buries his head in my shoulder. I smile at him and begin to stroke his hand. I never really let go of it.
That's how we spent the rest of the time before breakfast. When the time did come, I had to wake him up again. He fell asleep against my shoulder. I wondered how he was going to make it through classes for the rest of the day.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes for awhile. Before he stood up and left he bent over and kissed my forehead.
"I'll be seeing you," He said rather gently and left.
I just starred at the door for awhile and then decided I should get ready.
With in a few minutes I was running down the hall trying to make it to breakfast the same time as Harry and Ron.
Just as I sit down, the conversation takes a bad turn. Both the Weasley twins move across from us. They seemed to have found out something exciting. I pray it's about Ron.
"So Hermione," Says George with a smirk on his face. "Tell me why that painting in the hall says Draco came out of your room this morning,"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Wow my first try at a cliff hanger. Go me! I know this chapter was short, but I really didn't plan on writing more. Well, now I am. I'll be updating this soon of course.
Please review! Please? I'm asking nicely....