Chapter Twenty-Six: They'll Never Hurt You like I Do

You don't wanna look much closer

Cause your afraid to find out all this hope

You had sent into the sky by now had

Crashed

And it did

Because of me

You spin around me like a dream

We played out on this movie screen

And I said

Did u know I missed you?

If you're missing I will run away
I will build a path to you
If you're missing I will run away
because I find myself in you

Her heart pounded painfully against her chest, her breath grew faint as each gasp of air seemed weaker than the last. Dank air filled within the tunnel; cold yet murky, the cracks of light were dim and her vision was limited as she ran blindly down through the passageway. Her hands stretched far out before her, ignoring the tiny lurking creatures that she startled.

Why had she even gone back? Why did she think he would even care? Her mind exploded with fears of all kinds –what would happen to her? Would Draco care? Would anyone care? But throughout all the questions within her mind, what she both wondered and feared most of all, was Draco's reaction. Would he turn her away? Or would he take her back? She was afraid—afraid of rejection; but she needed him. He was all she still had….or so she thought. Hermione's feet—numb from the cold carried her almost instinctively to the same wooden notch. Taking a deep breath, and wiping away the light film of sweat that grazed the sides of her head, she slammed the heel of her palm against the pseudo-lever and stepped through entrance.

xXx

No sunlight shone through the windows that morning as there were none to shine through within the Slytherin dungeons. Instead, what woke him up early that morning was a 140lb teenage boy, leaping onto the foot of his bed and showering him with a crateful of hollow, snitch-sized muggle balls.

"AGH!" the Slytherin boy shot up from his bed, only to be pelted with a second wave of balls. Blaise quickly dove back beneath his covers and waited until all was quiet. Warily, with his blanket draped over his head, he peeked out and found no one. Ever so slowly, Blaise dropped his sheets, and peered to the side of his bed. The ground, he found was covered with a sea of fluorescent orange plastic balls. Suddenly, he felt a strong heave from behind him and fell head first into the orange-coloured spheres.

"Morning, mate. Glad to see you're finally up."

Groaning, Blaise gripped the sides of his bed with both hands and began to haul his body back up. Already he could feel bruises forming upon various parts of his body. "What the bloody hell is going on?" he demanded, looking up at a tall, Asian boy.

"Wand malfunctions—sort of." He replied, seating himself upon Blaise's pillow and taking out a paddle board.

Blaise exploded as the other boy picked up a ball and bounced it against his paddle, hitting him square between the eyes. "Did your wand just HAPPEN to explode with—with plastic balls RIGHT at ME!"

"Number one, yes—well, sort of. Well—no. But that doesn't matter. And number two, they're called ping-pong balls" he replied in a know-all tone of voice.

Blaise rolled his eyes and reached for his robes, about to ask the boy how he was going to get rid of the 'ping-'pong' balls as he called them when he said, "What in the name of Merlin are these pebbles doing beneath your pillow?" He rolled them between his fingers and inspected them closely. "Hey they're warm!"

Blaise blinked for a second, also trying to remember then, "NING! DON'T TOUCH THOSE!" he hollered, diving at his housemate. "I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T GIVE THEM BACK!" Taking a fistful of ping-pong balls, Blaise hurled them in the direction of the thief. Digging deep into his memory, he tried to recall whether he'd had any dreams or visions, but all he could remember at the moment was millions of ping-pong balls flying at him in every direction.

Ning merely smirked, ducking the flying spheres and clambered up the ladder onto the upper bunk. "Empty threats mean nothing. You can say whatever you want, Zabini, but until you do something, it means nothing to me, mate! What are they for anyway? Impotence?" he sniggered.

Right there and then, he skidded to a halt. His cerulean eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

"You know, from up here, you look just like a gawking gorilla. Very fitting look" Ning called down.

A wide, goofy looking grin spread like wildfire across his face. "Aaron, I think I love you!" he called back, and sped out the doors making only a short detour into the lavatory.

Aaron stared at the retreating form at his fellow 6th year, an eyebrow raised in perplexity and the stones still sitting warm within his hands.

xXx

He lay lifelessly upon his cold, hard bed, his face smothered by his pillow, and his wrists dangling limply at the sides. He wanted to punch himself. He wanted to kick himself. He wanted to throw himself off the highest tower and hit the ground with a sickening splatter. A steady image of her face had embedded itself within his mind. The apparent hurt upon her face, the pain within her eyes—and it was all because of him.

He had been the one to hurt her; and he had done it deliberately—with intent to hurt.

What he felt now…..nothing clear. But regret-this he was sure he felt somewhere within him. An aching pain, reprimanding him for what he had done—he had acted so irrationally. It was just a step from what his father would have done. Draco shuddered at the terrible thought. He wanted nothing to do with his father.

Dragging hours had long crept by and yet, when he moved his fingers, he could still feel her soft, smooth skin, and her delicate wrist, crushed within his hand, pale—bloodless. The very hand he had held so tenderly—it was hers—it was his and he had hurt her; he had hurt himself.

But despite all Draco felt within himself, he still could not forgive her for kissing him—for letting him kiss her—for kissing him back.

In truth, he wasn't sure if he could ever fully trust her again. Trust was something he prized far beyond anything else in his life. Something he kept barricaded behind miles of concrete walls and vaulted within a hidden, steel box.

Out from his lips fell a breath that he'd long been keeping in. Draco forced his burning grey eyes to shut and implored his mind to fall into the blissful salvation of sleep. He lay still for moments to pass by, waiting for sleep to come; but it never did.

Instead, she came.

xXx

Her eyes stung with fresh tears as she laid her eyes upon his back. She was afraid. Unsure of whether or not had seen her yet as he hadn't moved nor had he uttered a single word, Hermione took a deep breath and strode soundlessly to his side. Taking a deep breath, she shoved aside any remnants of her pride and closed her eyes hoping it would make things easier. "I deserve a chance to redeem myself—"Draco's body stiffened. But he said not a word. "—and as you refuse to give me one. I shall grant myself that chance." Her words were soft, but strong and clear. "I shouldn't have let myself become taken by him. And I know that. But I fought against him—even if you did not see that. I'm sorry—sorrier than I've ever been in my life. I don't want to lose you, Draco. I don't….I don't……I really don't." she paused; awaiting a reaction of some sort. But none came. Sighing softly, she swiped away a tear that had broken free and continued with what courage she still possessed. "I don't want to….but I might….I can see that you don't seem to care. Or maybe you really are asleep….but I just wanted to tell you, Draco…..I'm moving to Spain."

Hermione dared to open her eyes and saw that he had not moved an inch. He really, truly didn't care anymore. She had lost him—forever. Her cheeks burned red and her head grew light as she held her breath in an attempt to keep from sobbing aloud—she would leave with as much dignity as she could muster. For the last time, she looked back at him as she stood with one foot inside the wardrobe. She took that moment to memorize his form, and everything else she could possibly recall. She never wanted to forget her first love.

"Goodbye, Draco." Her voice quivered and with that, she shut the door and dove within the mass of black cloaks, leaving him— for the very last time.

He listened as the wardrobe clicked shut, and then listened harder, waiting for the trap door to close.

Click

She was gone.

She was really gone.

She was leaving. For good.

Draco sat up. Strangely enough, he could still smell her presence within his room. Directly before him stood the portrait of his beloved, staring back at him with lifeless golden brown orbs. The very same he loved gazing into so much. He longed to bash his head into the solid stone walls—he knew he should have said something—done something—anything. A feeling or remorse and longing filled him within. What he didn't understand, was why he still sat there.

Leaping from his bed, Draco flung open the wardrobe doors and chased after the love of his life.

Praying that he wasn't too late.

xXx

She sat numbly at the Gryffindor table, adding liberal amounts of brown sugar into her lumpy porridge. The world seemed a blur around her. Her life seemed so mundane and methodical. It was as if she wasn't really living it, but rather she had been turned into a puppet, carrying out the normal Ginny actions, and living her life—just not exactly living. She responded emotionlessly, without bothering to think—as if nothing was worth her time any longer. She alienated herself from everyone else—not troubling herself with trying to involve herself with anyone else. Unfortunately, they seemed to notice.

"Ginny, are you alright?"

Reluctantly, she tore her eyes away from her fascinating bowl of breakfast to meet the owner of that voice.

"Yes, Zack, I'm fine" she replied tonelessly, her eyes drifting magnetically towards the Slytherin table. There, she spotted no dark-haired, blue-eyed boy. Instead, she found Pansy and Adiran snogging madly over a large plate a kippers.

Zacharias raised a doubtful eyebrow, and frowned at her. "Your porridge is brown, Gin—Dark brown."

Ginny blinked; her eyes fluttered and she regained her focus. Her porridge was indeed a dark brown. In frustration, Ginny shoved her bowl away from her, knocking it into a goblet of pumpkin juice somewhere in front of her and spilling it over some poor soul. The blonde girl shrieked loudly and scampered out of the Great hall with her friend trailing close behind. Reaching for a random piece of fruit, Ginny turned back to Zack and shoved it into her mouth. "See? I'm fine. I guess I like oranges better."

"That's a grapefruit" he pointed out, selecting a section for himself.

Feeling irritated, she spat the fruit back out and got to feet. "Why the fuck do you care what I'm eating! Just leave me the hell alone!" she screamed and ran off towards the doors.

"Just give it up Zack." Michael muttered, buttering his toast. "She's not interested."

Zack rolled his eyes and buried his hands into his dirty-blond hair, resting his elbows on the table. "Something is very wrong with that girl" he muttered.

xXx

She ran blindly in anger and inevitable crashed headlong into another tall, black form. "Ginny, I'm sorry I didn't see you. Are you alright?"

A familiar voice rung out from somewhere above her. Gingerly, she rubbed her elbow and picked herself up. "I'm fine. Sorry. Are you okay? I wasn't watching where I was going…"

Natalie looked at her with a crooked smile, "Well, that was apparent, but the question is….why?"

"It's nothing. I was just…upset." Ginny confessed, tucking a stray tress back into it's rightful place behind her right ear.

The blonde-haired girl frowned, pressing her plum-glossed lips together. "Is that why you poured pumpkin juice all over Hannah? She burst into the washroom a few seconds after I'd left, screaming and cursing your name."

Ginny cracked a tiny smile. "No, not deliberately, my bowl knocked into her goblet. It was an accident. Honestly."

Her amethyst coloured eyelids glittered dazzlingly as her face contorted into a strange, disbelieving expression. "Then what caused you to be so upset then?"

The red-head sighed softly, and straightened her robes. "It's stupid really; Zack was just asking how I was and something about my porridge….and I…got really upset with him."

"I see. Well, come join me for breakfast, as you probably didn't get much to eat." Natalie offered, taking Ginny by the arm.

"No, no I can't. I don't want to go back to the Gryffindor table" she pleaded.

"Fine, then. We'll eat with Cho and the Ravenclaws. Better view of Slytherin from there anyway." Natalie grinned.

Ginny's forehead creased. "Why would you be interested in seeing the Slytherins?"

"There's this….very, very cute boy there. Aaron I think his name is. Tall, slender, yet built, dark hair…ah….you must see him for yourself!" she squealed excitedly.

At this, Ginny couldn't help but grin as she let herself be led towards a morning of girlish squeals and squeaks from her friend.

xXx

Nervously, Blaise downed his goblet of ice cold juice in one extremely large mouthful. He never even felt it go down his throat, but could distinctly feel the icy liquid land with a splash within his empty stomach. Patting the right side of his robe again, he double checked to make certain that the rose was still inside. For the twelfth time, his eyes scanned across the Gryffindor table; but still, he had not caught sight of the red-head he sought out.

"EEE!"

Irritated, Blaise turned his attention towards the annoying squealing sound that had been going off every other minute. His ocean-blue eyes widened as he at long last stumbled upon the little Gryffindor he had been seeking, seated next to the squealing-machine, sipping on a mug of what appeared to have been black tea. Taking a final, deep breath, Blaise stood up from his seat, and strode towards her.

xXx

Steadily, she placed her tea upon the table, and reached for a real section of orange, intentionally looking away from the direction that Natalie stared so intently at. The citrus juices tasted sour within her mouth, but nevertheless, she ate it, disregarding the tartness. Reaching for her tea once again, she took another sip and placed it down, staring deep into the black liquid. Inside, she noticed the ripples sprung from the centre, creating little rings within her drink. She could also see her reflection. Her eyes seemed dead, no longer filled with colour and life, but emptiness. Swirling her cup again, she watched as the tea settled. This time, she didn't see herself, but instead, she saw him. His eyes seemed filled with sorrow and his image shook unsteadily within her mug. Again, she swirled her drink. But when the waters settled this time, the image within remained unchanged. Angrily, she shoved the cup away and reached for her goblet. Even her breakfast seemed to be mocking her. She stared into her pumpkin juice, and again, she saw him, the very same expression, but somehow, his face seemed clearer. In frustration, she hurled the goblet across the length of the table and stood up, preparing to leave.

"Ginny?"

"What?" she replied listlessly, not making any effort to face Natalie

"Ginny, what's wrong?" Natalie asked patiently.

"I just—I just keep seeing him everywhere—well, no, not everywhere, but in my drink!" Ginny cried, knowing very well she sounded like a lunatic.

"Maybe—" she began quietly, "it's because he's standing right behind you."

Her blood ran cold, and somehow, her body had turned itself around and she found herself face to face with him.

They stood before one another, not speaking a single word. Her broken heart thudded rhythmically against her chest, her mind had ceased to function and all she felt like doing at that very moment was running—away from him; but her legs gave no avail.

"Ginny" Blaise whispered her name, taking a step towards her.

Her eyes flashed and her body came back to life. "I have nothing to say to you." And she leapt across the bench walking away as quickly as she could.

"Ginny no—" he caught her by the wrist, "I won't let you go again."

"You know, people are still in this room. They can SEE you TALKING to me, Zabini" she spat coldly, glaring at him with glacial eyes.

"I don't care. I never should have," Blaise said firmly, looking deep into her eyes, "I'm an idiot, Ginny."

"No, really" Ginny retorted, attempting to jerk her wrist free. "Let go of me!"

"No—I won't. Please, Ginny, listen to me" he pleaded, tightening his grip.

"Blaise, you hurting me. LET GO!" she cried, nearing the point of tears.

"I will, but only if you promise to listen" he said quietly.

"You have one minute."

Holding her gaze, he released her. "Ginny, I'm truly sorry. I don't think you understand how sorry I am."

"10, 11, 12, 13, 14…"

He continued, "I've just been—afraid and stupid. Utterly daft."

"20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25.."

"But I love you, Ginny, and the fact that I love you—that—it's just made me see that—I can't live without you."

"30, 31, 32, 33, 34"

"I LOVE YOU GINNY WEASLEY, AND I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS!" he shouted. A sea of heads turned in their direction, burning holes within the two.

"Time up" Ginny said, icily. "It's too late, Blaise. You should have done this a long time ago."

She knew with all her heart that he was telling the truth, but still, she could not find it within herself to forgive him. "I'm sorry, Blaise, it's too late. There's nothing you can do that will surprise me anymore.

His heart tore into pieces, but still, he followed through. Reaching into his robes, he retrieved an enchanted crystal rose and held it out to her. She stared from him to the rose blankly and they watched together as the crystal clearrose slowly filled with a crimson substance. "I love you, Ginny" he choked out.

Ginny stared at the rose, and then into his eyes. Dropping the rose, Blaise stepped forwards and captured her lips, putting in everything he'd ever felt for her into that one, single kiss. "I love you," he whispered, wiping away her tears with his fingers. She looked up at him, speechless, then, threw her arms around him and kissed him back, returning every emotion he'd given her. Tables turned and every single pair of eyes were upon the two lovers. Some were squealing with glee (Natalie), some cried, sobbing wildly (about 90 percent of the girls in Hogwarts), some fumed, cursing everything from Merlin to their mothers and heaved their breakfasts (Ron) and some shook their heads in disappointment, saddened that they'd have to pound him later (Every person sitting at the Slytherin table).

The crystal rose had plummeted soundlessly onto the stone floor, somehow landing gracefully and unmarred.

xXx

Her tears flowed freely, streaming down her cheeks at a steady pace. She felt anger, humiliation, and hurt all at once. It angered her that she had ignored her as if she didn't exist, it humiliated her that he didn't think she was worth his time to respond, and it hurt her, cut her deep to think that he didn't care in spite of all that they had been through. He couldn't even be there for her as a friend.

The tunnel felt chillier than ever now, and her body felt numb with remorse and cold. Silence was a powerful tool in their game. Who knew that unspoken words could hurt as much, or if possible, even more than spoken ones.

Sobs escaped her lips as the princess stumbled through the passageway, trying to make her way back into her room, dreading what was held within her future. Suddenly, she felt a hand grip her arm and she froze. Hermione opened her mouth to scream as the hand tightened and seized her around the waist, but the person had covered her mouth. Fearful, she began to struggle. The passageway was dark and the stone walls echoed for a long way. If she could only scream, someone would hopefully find her and come rescue her.

"Hermione—Hermione!"

She knew that voice.

Hermione immediately ceased fidgeting and spun around as far as her captor would allow her. "You" she breathed.

"Me." Draco said, releasing her, the moment seemed strangely déjà vu.

"Can I help you?" she asked stiffly, yet her voice betrayed her and injected a tremble.

"Just please, listen to me, Hermione" he said softly, his eyes drifting downwards. She nodded tentatively, but was unsure whether or not he saw it. "I—I overreacted, well, I overreacted, and then…completely under reacted, but that's not the point, I was just…well, overcome by jealously I suppose. I'm—s-sorry."

"You know that's the third time you've apologized to me since we've been here." Hermione shuffled her feet beneath her.

"You've kept count I see. Can you….forgive me then?" he asked quietly.

"Can you promise me you'll never jump to conclusions again?" she asked in return. "I would never lie to you, Draco. I'd never do anything to intentionally hurt you."

Gently, he took her hands within his own. "I promise, Hermione. I promise."

The Gryffindor smiled softly, and leaned in to kiss him sweetly on the lips. "Then I forgive you—if you forgive me for being such a prat."

Draco grinned back, "You're never a prat to me, Hermione, never." And he kissed her again. He'd missed holding her warm, soft body and he'd missed kissing her sweet, supple lips. He'd missed everything about her, and he never wanted to miss her again.

Gently, he kissed her again on the lips and slowly moved down her neck, and across her collar bone, taking time to enjoy every part of her. He never wanted to let her go again--Ever.

"Draco?" Hermione said finally as she gently pushed him back, resisting the urge to kiss him again, "What are we going to do now? I don't want to go to Spain."

Draco stood silent and solemn for a moment as his hands slid down the small of her back to hold her hands. "We could…run away."

"But to where?" she asked, surprised. "There're guards at every entrance. There's no way we can escape without being seen."

"There is, actually. Your bedroom—the balcony. I got out through there last time. We can escape out the gardens. There must be an exit somewhere there." he said thoughtfully.

Her eyes widened, "Then when can we leave?"

"Now."

Taking her hand, Draco swiftly led his fair maiden back into her room. "Gather any necessities and any valuables. We'll need as much money as we can. I'll be back in 5 minutes. I have to get something from my room." Hermione looked up into his eyes, feeling fearful yet anxious but nodded. Quickly, Draco swept out the doors and left Hermione alone within her bedchamber.

The very first thing she did when he left was place a number of dresses beneath her covers so that anyone who came into her room would assume she was asleep beneath her covers. There certainly was truth behind the title of 'cleverest witch in Hogwarts'. Her heart racing, Hermione searched her room for a sack of some sort and began to fill it with whatever provisions she deemed necessary. By the time she had finished, Draco still had not returned. Alone, her mind began to fill with wicked scenarios of Draco leaving her and never returning. But she shook her head fiercely in denial. Draco would never do that. Just when Hermione was about to leave and find him, Draco staggered through the mirror passage, and in his possession were 2 black cloaks, and a rather familiar sword of some sort.

"Are you ready?" he asked, breathlessly.

Hermione nodded and hugged him tightly. "Let's go."

Together, they climbed down the balcony, and disappeared into the gardens.

A/N

Whew. That took a while. Hope you all enjoyed it though!

Song: Something Corporate: KONSTANTINE and The Runaway Befitting, no?

Note that I corrected it! Huge sorry! I had had something by DBC there before, and just changed it. So yes, forgive me!