Hermione arrived back at the Head dorm and lay down on the couch wearily, her legs hanging over on one side and her books and bag strewn on the low wooden coffee table.
She massaged her temples, groaning softly when she accidentally hit on her bruise, jarring her aching head even more. Today had gone fairly smoothly and was better than she had expected it to be. Apart from a few worried questions after her health, no one had quite suspected anything. Hermione let out a long sigh of relief that Harry and Ron had not seen through the make up or seen any of the other bruises. The only suspenseful part of the day was when they had questioned her over the plaster on the side of her face.
She had tried not to fidget and look shifty and uncomfortable, for she knew that they would both know she was lying. Instead, she had laughed and grinned at them, telling them how she had forgotten to cut her nails and unknowingly scratched her face in her sleep. They had fallen for it.
She had gone to see Professor Mcgonagall in the afternoon, to reassure her that she was fine, standing there perfectly before her. She wanted to get her off her back and had intentionally eaten more than usual during lunch under the circumstances that the Professor was watching her closely.
Without warning, the door opened with a heavy creak and the shiny silver hair of Malfoy came to light. He looked at her lying tiredly upon the couch, noticing her eye bags under the light.
"I really never expected to see you here Granger. Lazing about, messing up the room. Not doing your homework too. As you have clearly forgotten Mudblood, this room does not only belong to you. It belongs to me as well. Please don't do anything to dirty or stain it with your filthy hands." Malfoy sneered at her coolly.
Hermione blazed, her eyes narrowing hatefully at him.
"You son-of-a-bitch. You don't deserve to be here." She spat cruelly, sitting up abruptly.
In a second, Malfoy had whipped out his wand and stuck it in her throat, his iron-gray eyes burning. She stared back at him, unnerved but with the same hatred and defiant look in her eyes.
"Go on Malfoy. Kill me, come on, hex me. What more do you want to do with me till you're satisfied?" Hermione shot back bitterly with a hollow laugh.
It only served to have his wand pushed further into her throat. Hermione was certain that another bruise was slowly, but surely forming there.
"Watch yourself Granger. I would hate to see our Head Girl blown up into bloody pieces, which is just what you deserve, you bitch." Malfoy hissed softly and tauntingly, the words so soft they seemed to be unspoken, but like a threat that hung ominously in the room, stifling her.
"I must have failed to do so then, since you've already been successful in making my life a living hell. I do wonder whether you feel any shame, or at least some guilt for doing so. But I guess not isn't it? You're inhuman as it is already." She bit back, her eyes glistening with tears threatening to overflow.
Hermione looked away, brushing the back of her hand coarsely against her eyes, before grabbing the wand and pushing it away from her throat. She felt the hard tip cut a fresh red trail on her neck, but hardly could bring herself to care. What was one more scratch when she already had dozens? She got off the couch, kneeling down quickly to pick up her books and bag and ran off to the solitude of her dark room.
Malfoy stared up at her retreating, fleeing back, a complex swirl of emotions rising up within him. All he knew was that he felt dangerous at that moment. He found himself unable to read his emotions clearly and sensed the urgent need to do so immediately. Like the starting of a hurricane, the hot and cold airs were simple elements, but when they met and fused together as one, it was a sure recipe for danger, destruction and undesirable circumstances and results.
His emotions were creeping and swimming in him, mingling and escaping swiftly past each other just as they were close to meeting, testing the boundaries. Malfoy was hot and yet icy calm. He was rifled up by her insult on his mother, hurt, upset and protective. But her strange outburst had confused him and was thrust upon him so suddenly he had stumbled back. A tiny wisp of pity had unearthed itself within him and scorn had unleashed its venomous head, while shock and surprise had foiled his plans.
He gripped the slim wand in his hand tightly, so firm that the skin on his knuckles stretched to a bone white. Malfoy felt blood rush to his head with immense pressure and drew in a quick breath, hissing slightly. His eyes roamed over the warm surroundings madly. The plush deep red couches, dark oak wood furniture, sparkling from its polish, the pretty ornaments sitting about carefully. Hermione had placed them there. They were hers.
An angry flash shot through his eyes and he picked up a tiny porcelain figure of a fairy placed on the square coffee table. Malfoy curled his lips up in malice as he flung the tiny object across the room, where it shattered into a million bright shards as it hit with a thud against the stonewall.
With an angry tug at his cloak, he stormed up to his room and slammed it shut, the sound echoing throughout the common room below.
This time, they both had their backs turned against each other. Like the sun and the moon, they lived in close proximities, but never met. Or at least, in their case, never wanted to meet.
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