Title: A Late Night Reverie
Rating: M- Strong violence, language, and scenes of sexual nature.
Disclaimer: It makes me sad to write these damn disclaimers, It constantly reminds me how unworthy I am to be taking J.K. Rowling's work and playing with it. BUT ITS SO FUN! Of course I am not making any money off of this, so if you want to sue, it really wont get you more than my computer... Which is extremely cheap.
Warning: There is a character death in this story, and his death may seem a little out of character. But a lot of the things we make the poor Harry Potter kids do is out of character. If I get flames, I'll be sure to rip you apart seeing as you obviously had no common sense to read the warning.
A/N: This is sort of my take on Hermione, she's way to perfect not to have any problems. Its kinda fucked up, so if you're not into that kind of stuff, GO AWAY! DO NOT SEND ME MEAN REVIEWS OR I WILL BE ANNNNNGRY. I wasn't going to post on this site, because my other storys have been doing fairly crappy... but i decided, why the hell not?
Hermione-
Darkness is the sort of thing that consumes a person, when I blow out my candle at night It's almost like a black satin sheet being slowly draped over my body. It comforts me, blocks me from light and truth. I miss the darkness...
My hazel eyes scanned the back of my lids intently as thoughts raced like power hungry horses in my head. Reminiscing was something that I usually did before drifting into a silvery sleep.
My latest project was Ron, I had always had a knack for being a perfectionist, until just recently I was able to control it well. I can feel my grip on the world slowly slipping as if someone is just prying at my hands, finger by finger, inch by inch.
I was worried none the less about my so called boyfriend. The fact that he wasn't treating me as my ideal boyfriend would drove me to a state of violence. Something that I had also been good at controlling before, I still had enough of a grip on my world as to were I was not to hit anyone.
I saw his face on my eye lids, his freckles glowing like tiny stars stuck to a cream colored sky. I sighed. He had started drinking, not out of depression either. He had told me that he was only 17 and he wanted to live life before he was blown to smithereens by Voldemort. Beautifully worded.
A breeze whispered outside my window, its breath rustling the tiny hairs that lay loosely on face. My eyes opened to look around me once more. The night was dark, the merry moon was hiding behind the shadow of the sun unwilling to show it beautiful face on that cold dreary night.
There was a knock at my door, a gentle tapping as if there was hesitation behind the knuckles that were brushing the smooth oak. I turned my head, the pillow groaning underneath my shimmering brown locks. Closing my eyes once again I ignored the knocking that I thought to be hiding in my head.
The rapping came again, a little louder but just as hesitant. My gloss covered eyes rolled in their sockets before I flicked the sheets off my body. The night air greedily sucked at my skin as shivers ran from my toes the ends of my fingers.
My hand reached for the golden knob and turned it as the door squeaked irritably on its hinges as if being disturbed from a deep sleep. Through the dark hall I saw nothing but a burst of red, my eyes focused and I found Ron shivering under the heavy nights breeze with a paper bag clutched in his left hand.
"Well are you going to let me in? It's fucking freezing." He muttered before shoving me aside and shrugging off his coat. He placed the paper bag on the floor, the click of glass on hard wood floors greeting my ears, gliding as if in water.
His imperfections were beginning to annoy me again. I took a deep breath, sorting out my scattered thoughts and throwing them into piles labeled 'rational' and 'irrational'. I could hear the hinges of my bed squeaking as Ron threw himself to his usual spot on the mattress.
"Are you coming 'Moine?" he asked, patting the indented spot on the bed were my body had resided moments before.
I nodded my head, I wouldn't allow words to come out of my mouth. They would end up tasting as bitter as my thoughts.
I slipped into the bed, Ron pulled the sheets over my body and wrapped his long gangly arms around my waist. His touch stung, the dirt from his nights party was seeping into my skin. I wanted to wash myself, to get all the alcohol and drugs off of my body. I pinched my eyes shut as his breath beat at the unfortunate skin on my neck.
I wanted to slap him, to knock some sense into him. I held back my feelings of dire anger as I hugged my silk pillow labeled 'HG' for 'Head Girl' of course. I had always thought the labeled pillows was a little over the top.
I drifted to sleep, a cloud of alcoholic breath hovering over my body.
I awoke the next morning to find Ron's underwear on my floor and the buzzing of the shower embedding itself in my ears as a ray of light peeked through the tightly shut curtains. Heat rose my face, I should have been the one showering. He belonged with all the dirt and scum that he had transferred to my body.
I settled for my usual routine. I made my way down the little staircase that lead to the kitchen I shared with the head boy. Unfortunately the head boy was rummaging for something to eat. I closed my eyes praying for patience.
"Rough night Granger?" he asked, his blonde head straining to get a look at me from over his shoulder.
I had had enough.
"Shove it Malfoy" I spat as I made my way over to the pot of coffee he had brewed minutes before. I smiled, I had always enjoyed taking something that was rightfully someone else's. A sort of sick pleasure of mine.
"I'm sure you did last night. And what in the world do you think you're doing?" he asked trying to pry the pot of boiling liquid from the firm grip of my tiny fingers.
"I'm taking your coffee, what does it look like?" I said jerking the pot towards myself, the brown of the bitter smelling beverage threatening to spill onto my white cotton shirt. I knew it wouldn't be as easy as telling him my intentions. Malfoy had a reputation for getting what he wanted, then again so did I.
He pulled the pot towards himself, I jerked it back. I wasn't going to let the little prick win, his face was inches from mine as he struggled to gain ownership of the freshly heated coffee. His eyes always had a hint of arrogance emanating from the gray snow storm that constantly swirled around the night of his pupils. His square cut jaw flinched as his upper lip curled only slightly.
The tug of war was more then a simple argument over the owner of a pot a of steaming beverage it was a symbolism of strength. Malfoy hated me, I loathed him. I was going to play that to the best of my abilities.
Tiny drops of coffee rained on my exposed arms and legs as we struggled to gain dominance. This added to my frustration, not only did I have the stench of sex and drugs embedded in my pores from Ron but now had symbolism of Malfoy burning himself into my skin, brown rain making me filthy.
We usually stayed out of each others way, muttering insults on occasion to one another as we brushed passed in the kitchen or our own personal library. I could smell rage through the musk that he had patted onto his face after shaving. The anger itself smelt musky, sweat smelling sweat.
He was winning, the pot had been on his side for about 30 seconds now. I knew I couldn't stand to let myself loose to the arrogant princess. My left hand subconsciously flew to the bottom of the pot. The liquid left a light brown tint on his face and hair. His jaw flew open, from the pain of the extreme heat and the nerve of myself.
A relief flowed through my body. Though it was temporary it provided me with a sense of accomplishment that I had always gotten after finishing a particularly nasty homework assignment. Homework didn't provide me with the same pleasure anymore, I needed a little more. I needed to win, to fight and win.
I could tell by the look on the blonde headed ferrets face that he was thinking murderous thoughts about me. I wanted the jump inside his mind and find those laughable fantasy's. I raised my eyebrows and nodded hoping to get my message of 'Don't fuck with me' across.
He had let go of the pot, I held it in my hand without even realizing it was there. When I did I had to place it on the white granite counter top while resisting the strong urge to bash it over his perfectly shaped blonde head.
I left the stunned Malfoy behind to clean what was rightfully my mess, there he had taken something that was mine. I found Ron in my room his towel wrapped around his waist as his sopping wet hair dripped drops of water onto my bed. I clenched my fists'. I had just washed those sheets.
I managed to force a smile, hoping I could radiate the innocence as perfect as I had done before. I pulled it off.
"Are you going to shower now?" he asked throwing his cloths into the my dirty laundry hamper along with some of my bra's.
"I am." I replied reaching for the towels that were neatly folded at the top of my closet.
"Mind if I join?" he said his voice growing low and husky placing kisses on my neck.
I needed the rush, to feel the electricity that ran through my body when he ground against me. I had a talent of turning my obsessive cleanliness off when it came to sex, it was the next best thing aside from always winning. Even if it was with Ron.
I found myself against him, the heated water drumming at our bodies, soap suds slipped and slid on our skin as he rocked back and fourth. I could hear my back against the wall to the rhythm of his movement. I closed my eyes basking in the feeling I knew would soon arrive. My irrationality's disappeared as the feeling of pure joy over took my body for the few seconds Ron had worked almost an hour to achieve. My back arched and toes curled into balls of delight, I had become hard as a rock.
As soon as it left I was overtook by fear. I could feel the dirt growing thicker on my skin. The dirt was now inside me. Ron stepped out of the shower allowing me my moments peace. The peace wasn't as peaceful as I would have hoped.
I scrubbed myself frantically, scratching and itching at my coffee covered arms and legs. I had to get clean. The steam from the shower drew shapes in the air, circles and squares fit together from dust sized water.
Once I finished cleansing myself from the world around me I ventured back in my room. Ron had disappeared, it was a weekend he was probably in the pub already trying to bum a free drink.
I sat on my bed and stared a the floor tracing circles with my big toe. I felt something building up inside of me, my own slice of hell planted right into my body. It was only a matter of time before I would snap.
Draco-
I Scrubbed furiously at the floor as if I were scratching her stupid little Mud-blood face off. The nerve she had, to take something that I had made for myself and spill it all over the place. She was nothing but a joke, a teachers pet and I had to live with the filthy little creature.
I shuddered, the thought of her tugging at my gag reflexes sending disgusted impulses down my spine. She had smelt of vanilla and alcohol with a hint of sweat, no doubt she had been banging up a storm with Weasley that night. One disgusting thing leading to another. Weasley.
Even his name tasted of dirt and poverty, it left an ashy remembrance on my tongue. The thought of the two most vile people burned an image into my mind as if they were branding me with their insanity.
When I finished cleaning the coffee, I threw the stained rag into the sink with all the force I could muster, tiny droplets of the cooled liquid bounced back at me as if offended by my violence.
I stood staring at my starch white button up shirt, a huge brown stain littering the middle from the initial spill with tiny dots neatly shaped around the enormous brown shape. This was bullshit, I thought to myself before gritting my teeth as I made my way up to Granger's room.
When I reached the door I threw it open without hesitation, I heard the gold of the handle bang against the wall revealing a startled look Gryffindor. I smirked, she scanned me as she pulled her towel up to her color bone, as if wanted to see any of her distorted body parts.
"Malfoy! get bloody hell out I'm half naked!" she screeched her sopping wet hair forming around her face to make her look like an aggressive lap dog. My upper lip curled as I muffled a cringe.
"Don't remind me you filthy runt, look what you did to my shirt!" I spat pointing a long finger towards the muddy lake on my shirt.
"Well what do you want me to do about it?" she asked turning her head from as if I was some sort of rotting rodent, If I was a rodent then what the hell was she?
"I want you to clean it up, that's what I want you to do." I said becoming irritated with her facade. She wasn't stupid, that was one thing I was willing to give to her; so there was no need for her to play dumb.
"Oh yes just come over here and I'll rub it off." She sneered sarcastically as she stood from her bed and shook her long mangled hair before pulling it back into a dripping pony tail.
"You're going to clean it up, like it or not Granger." I stated crossing my arms across my chest. I was seething. And I knew she was going to push even further into my boiling pit of anger.
"Or what..?" she pressed gliding towards me causing my eyes to widen in disgust. There was something different about her, a glint of madness jutting about her aura. It still didn't change the fact that she was a slimy little Mud-Blood.
"Try me Granger, You don't know what I'm capable of." I said taking another step towards her, only out of willingness to do anything to scare her into cleaning the damn shirt. I could smell her breath, the stench of Ron lingering on her lips. They were meant for each other.
"Fine!" she said as if the words tasted similar to a lemon. She held out her hand waiting for the shirt her head staring off to a different direction. I smirked as I began unbuttoned the stained shirt. I knew how much she hated to lose, I knew the fact the I had forced her to do something would drive her up a wall. I lived for it. But how crazy it would make her I had yet to find out.