Draco couldn't comprehend what could make a person get so sad, so low, in their life that they'd put their body and minds through a total shut down. Besides that, it was creepy watching someone that you couldn't tell was awake or asleep. She could be dead for all he knew, and he'd probably never be able to tell. Well, scratch that, you could see her chest rise and lower as she inhaled and exhaled.
It's probably all just a hoax. She's probably just doing this for attention. Stupid mudblood.
"You can snap out of it any time Granger. You can't possibly have that many problems to cause you to get so depressed as this. Besides all that, this is truly rediculous. What do you plan to accomplish lying there? You can't eat, you can't use the lavatory... well I suppose you could still... never mind all that, what I'm saying is, I thought you were a bit more well to do than this. Look at you, just lying there. I bet you aren't really depressed. I bet it's all just a hoax to try and teach me a lesson. Well, the gig is up, mudblood. I've done nothing to you so bad that I'd have to be punished by watching you, so just get out of bed already, you lazy, good for nothing, piece of hippogriff poo..." Hermione's body flinched as a surge of emotion ripped through her. He thought she was faking this, did he? He must really be proud of himself. And why shouldn't he be? He didn't have the same worries that she had. He wasn't always worried about the people around him, stressing over his parents while he was away at school, being shot down by the people he cared for most. No, he didn't have to go through everything with a terrible weight pressing down on his shoulders. The lucky, pompous ass got to do as he pleased, without having to hide what he truly was every summer when he came home from Hogwarts.
She wanted to shout at him; wanted to leap up, grab him by the throat, and tell him what a slimey git he was. But try as she might, she couldn't do much. Her body just twitched with anger and she felt tears well up and spill down her cheeks. How was it that she could cry, but she couldn't open her eyes to glare at the twit?
It was then that she realised how alone she truly was, how powerless she'd become, how out of control everything had gotten. She wished that she could move, that she had a razor or something equally as sharp to cut away the pain that she couldn't control and create one that she could.
"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this predicament, Malfoy. If you hadn't... Forget it, I'll save my breath for someone who'll appreciate it, someone worth my intelligence."
Her words were sharp and harsh and they stunned both of them. Hermione because up until that point, she hadn't been able to talk; Draco because he hadn't really been expecting a comment in retaliation to his own words.
"Ah, so you can talk now, is that it? Well, do save your breath, I daresay that it reeks and contaminates the air with the essence of mudblood."
He watched as a tear came to a bubble, glistened in the light of the quickly fading day, then rolled down the side of her face toward her temple, and soak into her pillow.
"Do save your tears as well." He smirked. "You don't want to completely dehydrate yourself and die in your sleep now would you? I'd rather enjoy that, but I do believe that your dear friends Potty and Weasel would have trouble enough with it."
He slumped down in the chair, only gaining slight relief in his back, but the hard wood created only more problems for his lower back side.
"Speaking of your obnoxious friends, the next time they threaten me, I'm taking points away from your beloved house. Be thankful I did nothing today when they attacked me on the way up here. How anyone can tolerate them is beyond me, but then again, how anyone can tolerate you is beyond me as well."
"You waste your breath with your cold, ill-spoken words. Threaten and jeer all you want, but come time I can move and do things on my own, you'll be dealing with me as well. Just what were you playing at with sneaking into my room last night, Malfoy? Did you think my request for tolerence funny? What am I saying, of course you did, that's why, even in my distressed state, you came in here late at night and attacked me."
"Sneak into your room? Me? Attack you? I've never heard anything so blasphemous in my entire life! If that's what you believe Granger, than you're much more loony than I thought you to be. Any more irrational accusations to throw at me, because I do feel quite through 'comforting' you today."
"Irrational accusations? The only other people who know the password to get into our dormitory is Dumbledore, the professors, and Madame Pomfrey. None of them would do anything so cruel as to sneak in here in the dead of night, come into my room, and hide away in my lavatory, only to attack me when I found them out. No, you're the only one who could have done it."
Draco couldn't believe the slew of filth coming from the still motionless vegetable in front of him. He'd had enough of everyone's accusations for the day.
"You sit and think on that and let me know when you're done accusing people of acts they never did. I'm done with you."
He stood up and stormed towards the doorway.
"If not you, then who, Malfoy? Hm? Could you tell me that much? Go on, tell me how irrational I am then if you didn't do it."
"No one Granger. No other person had come into these dorms. When I found you this morning... your filthy cat was still shut in your quarters with you. He'd of run out if someone had snuck in, would he not?"
Before she could answer, he left the room. He'd had enough of everyone and their wants and needs for the day. He stalked into his room, kicked off his regulatory black lace up shoes, and threw himself onto his bed, burying his head into his pillow. He let out a frustrated sigh and punched the pillow, then rolled over. Staring up at the ceiling, his mind wandered.
Why does she think that someone snuck into our dormitory last night? Why does she think that I'd be that ignorant and attack her in the middle of the night?
On the opposite end of the hall, Hermione's mind was racing as well. It was true that Crookshanks had acted a bit wierd the night before when she'd been attacked, but then, he'd always acted wierd in any situation. Sure he was the type of cat that would attack the thing that meant to attack her, but that didn't mean anything. Perhaps he didn't attack the person because he didn't think of them as a threat. And perhaps the attacker had just forced Crookshanks into staying in the room with her.
She heard a rustling of sorts in her room, then a cool, damp cloth was pressed onto her forehead.
"How are things now for you, Ms. Granger.?"
Hermione was happy to find that it was Madame Pomfrey rather than the previous yellow headed prat.
"They're a little better now, now that I've recovered my voice again."
"That's fantastic, child! You're definitely on your way to a speedy recovery!"
I hope more than anything else in the world, no the whole galaxy, that that's true...
End of Chapter 8 and Comments- - -
A/N: I'm not J. K. Rowling. I don't own any of the characters, if I did, I'd walk down the red carpet.
Well, some good news and bad news for you all. Good news for me rather then for you. I've been moved in my position in a play that's currently being rehearsed at my school from a second hand part, to a main character. I have to run lines and remember my cue lines by Friday of next week, as well as all of my stage commands, so wish me luck. With that, I mean to say that you may or not get another chapter next week. Cross your fingers, I'll try my hardest to have something for you all.
Thanks for all your lovely reviews once again! Until next time...!