Well, I finished a the homework that was holding me up, so we should be good now. I don't know though. And I don't particularly want to jinx myself.
Disclaimer- Not owned by me
"Draco?"
I smiled down at her, her eyes looking into mine with humor. It was another weekend at Hogsmeade, another bout of wandering around with absolutely no reason but to be close to each other. A typical excuse on our part, but we didn't care. "Yes, 'Moine?"
"Thank you." Her smile was bright, her eyes glimmering still. I was taken a back slightly. Thank you for what?
"What do you mean?" I stopped walking and looked at her. The arm I had about her shoulders stopped her from continuing and he turned to me, leaned up and placed a small kiss upon my cheek with her gloriously soft lips. I felt a shiver go up my spine at the contact.
"For whatever you buy me on this trip." She pulled me further and we began walking once more. I began chuckling, then laughing outright. The little witch.
"You know me too well." I ruffled her hair and squeezed her shoulder, drawing her closer to me.
"I don't know you very well at all Draco. I know you well, yeah, but you don't really let me in most of the time." She looked up at me, her eyes filled with a little bit of hurt and pity.
I looked forward, watching our peers walking about. She was right, I know that now. But she was also very wrong. She would see that in time.
I sat in Potions, doodling on my assignment blankly. She sat with Potter, grinning at him and passing between them a piece of parchment they had been writing on. I could only imagine what it said. Oh I love you, your the only one for me. Blah blah...blah...blah...Her hair was once again in a severe style, twisted into a tight bun in the back. She leaned her head on Potters shoulder and sighed happily. I felt envy and possessiveness consume me. How dare she? I laughed at the ludicrous question. How dare she? I ask? She wasn't mine. She was his. She was his...his.
"Hello, Mr. Malfoy! May I sit here?" A cheery voice said into my ear. I jumped, startled. How did this girl do this? Very rarely had I ever been startled before her. And now it happened too often. Her warm breath on my ear happened too often. I turned and looked at her, her raven hair in two thick, loose braids. Not prim and neat like another's, but loose and carefree. Where Hermione was the epitome of female neatness and stunning sensuality, this girl was the very essence of innocence and unrealized sexuality. Her eyes shown in the dull dark dungeon, her smile bright. She stood there, waiting.
"No. You may not. Please kindly remove your person from my presence." I looked back to my parchment. I didn't want to be near her. She was unnerving in her own little ways. So sweet. But it was a lie, I knew it. No woman, or girl for that matter, could be as she was.
"Why thank you! It's so kind of you to let me sit here!" She smiled once more, sitting in the seat next to me with a little plop. She set her own parchment out on the desk, as well as her quill and ink. I gaped at her inwardly, but I sat silent, fuming with rage.
"I said I do not want you to sit with me. Your not wanted here. Go sit by another."
She smiled at me and blatantly ignored my remark. "Isn't it pretty out today? You can't tell in here, but it's so nice! Would you like to take a walk with me at lunch around the lake? You seem to like it there!"
"Are you deaf or just an idiot lacking basic conversational skills. I said no, you may not sit with me. Now move."
"I don't think that I will. I like this seat. It's close enough to the front that I can concentrate, but not so close that I can't have some peace of mind!" Giggling she looked about.
I shook with anger but waited for the lesson to start quietly. I want to put my hands about her pretty little neck and squeeze. I imagined she'd die with a smile on her face. Horny little bitch probably was just looking to get screwed. I tapped my fingers on the desk impatiently. Damn this girl.
Snape finally arrived, huffing from hurrying. He was late, and it stunned me a bit. Snape was never late. Early, yes, but late? I shook my head. There was a first for everything. I knew that well. All too well, I thought, and my gaze lingered on a certain brunette.
The lesson began, and I found myself spacing off. At the time, I could not understand why I could not concentrate on the lesson when usually I had no problem. I was frustrated with myself, angry in fact. Now I understand why very well. When one has a dramatic experience and the cause of that sits not too far away, it's benign to believe that one could and would concentrate on things they already knew. But I was young and naive in the ways on understanding myself. I wouldn't even begin to understand myself until later in my seventh year. And, too be frank, I hated every moment I was learning it.
I turned my attention from my pondering to the girl that sat next to me. She was certainly lovely in profile. Her long curling lashes framing those eyes that mesmerized me. They always have. Her full bottom lip was being nibbled on, a nervous habit, and her little fingers drummed on the table. She rocked back and forth softly, her crossed legs wiggling. Could she sit still? Her soft, pale skin shone in the dim light, her hair looked so soft and shiny that I felt the need to touch it. Perhaps I wanted her for the fact that it had been a long time since I had a sexual encounter with a woman, I thought to myself. I know now that thought was futile and ridiculous. Her very essence made me uneasy. But I didn't realize that.
I continued to stare at her, she being unaware of me doing so, and I being unaware of a pair of brown eyes upon me. She turned her head to me finally, as if my stare had pulled her gaze to mine. She smiled at me, her face going from nervously cute, to breathtaking and charming. I felt my stomach turn and I nodded. "Yes."
Eyes glittering, her smile turned softer. "Yes what?"
"A walk sound lovely."
"Oh! So at lunch will you meet me in the hall, and then we can go?"
I fashioned seductive and charming grin on my lips. "Of course."
"Ok then! But I have to pay attention now. I don't...well I'm not that smart. So I have to memorize everything he says." She gave me another smile and returned her attention to Snape.
Thinking of what was to come at lunch, I glanced to Hermione out of habit. Her eyes were filled with anger and another emotion. I quirked a brow at her, though not mocking, the moment I regained my senses from her eyes meeting mine. She sneered at me, rolling her eyes, and turning back to Potter, whispering something in his ear. I didn't understand why she was upset. She didn't want me anymore. She was with Potter. So, while I thought about it, I doodled.
With the lesson being over, I nodded to the little girl beside me, and was the last to leave the dungeon. I had my supplies in my bag, which was slung over my shoulder casually. I knew what affect that had on women, but it was just a habit with me now. So, I was relatively startled when my name was sneered from behind by a voice I had grown to love and hate.
Where was she? I glanced at my watch and leaned against the table. She should have been there by now. I wanted her to be there now. Hermione was never late, she was the queen of punctuality. I sat on the table with nothing else to keep me occupied. I idly picked my robes for nonexistent pieces of lint. The old me would have been disgusted with myself. Waiting for a girl, who was well over five minutes late. Before I would have simply gotten up and left if she had not been there right on time. But Hermione inspired changes in me. Vast changes that could never be changed.
Crabe and Goyle had been left behind as usual, Blaise snogging his boy. My only other companion not there, I glanced around. They say that love can do incredible things. It can cause a ninety eight pound mother to lift a car off of her child, can cause a cat to disappear for days after their owners death only to be found on their loved ones grave. Content to starve. It can also make Draco Malfoy to wait for the girl he used to hate.
But was I really in love? At the time, I was sure. I am still sure. But there are different types of love. Hermione invoked a passion in me that I had never found before. She was the first to show any sort of concern for me, the first to see that I was indeed hurting. That's what made me fall in love with her. I didn't particularly care about her past. No, that's wrong. I did care. I just didn't feel any need to beat her parents for their mishaps or to grind Weasley's and Potter's face into gravel for the way they treated her. I just simply wanted to comfort her, not change it. I did my best to make sure she felt nothing short of love and devotion when she was in my presence. I succeeded there. So yes, I was in love.
Hermione was my everything. School didn't matter on a personal level anymore. I only wanted to succeed so I could provide for her. We had long ago discussed that if we were to be together after school, we would not live off or touch my inheritance. It was pride on her part, and hatred on mine. I wanted to give her everything, therefore I must obtain a good paying job, a steady pay check, and a loving household. We'd hire servants instead of owning house-elfs. She didn't know I had agreed to that, nor had she ever brought that up, but I knew. I knew very well. So I made it silently. I was looking forward to surprising her with that. Personally I saw nothing wrong with owning house-elfs, I simply didn't care. But it offended every fiber of her being.
"Malfoy." I jumped at her sneering voice and I looked up to meet her violent brown eyes. I cocked my eyebrow at her out of habit and leaned back on the palm of my hand.
"Yes?"
"I can't BELIEVE you! How could you do that! They didn't do anything to you!" She advanced on me, ready to slap me.
I took a chance, caught her out stretched palm and pulled her to me. I kissed her hard, then when she was moaning and writhing, I softened the kiss, my lips teasing hers, my tongue darting across her soft lips. She wrapped her arms around me and parted her lips in silent invitation and I accepted it with glee. My tongue danced with hers, rubbing against hers, and explored her mouth. I could feel her leaning against me, her hands playing with the hair at the back of my neck.
"Breath." I said when at last I dragged myself away. I wasn't panting, but I always had that control over myself. She however, didn't. She looked up at me, seeming to finally realizing she had stopped breathing and gasped in breath.
"How do you always do that?" She smiled up at me, her anger a thing of the past.
"Do what?" I inquired innocently. I watched her giggle and push away from me, glancing around to make sure no teacher had seen.
"Make me feel weak." Her voice sent shivers throughout me, a deep throaty note that made me smile.
I turned to face her, clinging to my facade of indifference. She had lost the rights to my emotions long ago. I wouldn't let her see any. I remembered well what she did with those last time. The bitch had listened then used those confidences to stab me in the back.
"Yes, Hermione? Were you in need of something?" I drawled casually, putting a hand on my hip impudently.
"Don't you DARE! Don't even think it! She's not strong like I was! She can't survive your games! I barely managed to survive those blasted things!"
"May I inquire as to who we are speaking of?" I was almost writhing. I hadn't played games with her. Not any that mattered. I had abandoned those. I still felt the wounds she had inflicted on me.
"Don't play dumb, Malfoy. You're not that. She's off limits to you, got it?"
"Yes, I understand that, but who?"
"Godamnit! Monica! Don't you dare even be near her! She's not a strong person! She's a push over! So bug off, ok? She's bloody off limits to you!" Monica? Who was Monica?
"Yes yes, but Who is Monica?"
Her eyes flared with anger. Those eyes that had burned into my own so many times with passion and lust, even love. "Monica Jave, you prick! You didn't even know her name! God, your worse than I thought! I mean, I thought you at least knew her name when she sat next to you! Your flipping indecent!"
Sat next to me...The little raven haired one? "That little vixen? Her name is Monica?" I gave her an arrogant cock of my eyebrow.
"Yes! Now, once more, she is off limits-"
"Hermione, I don't believe you harbor the right to tell me what's off limits to me and what not anymore. So, to quote you, bugger off." I turned on my heel and strode away from her.
Many thoughts went through my head for the remainder of the morning. Why would Hermione care? Hermione had Potter now, she didn't want or like. Perhaps hatred made her behave strangely? Hatred was something I was accustomed to. But Hermione had felt it for only one person, that person being myself. Perhaps she was just insane? No. She was far from insane. She was quite possibly the sanest person I knew. I didn't understand her reaction at all.
Hermione had spoken to me! Joy rang through my heart. At least she hadn't sent one of her boys to warn me off. She had actually bared my presence for a little conversation. I had never seen her speak with the girl, so she couldn't have done it out of sisterly feelings for Monica. Could she have begun to heal emotionally from her miscarriage? Could she come to love me again?
She would! I knew she would. I realize now how futile and pathetic my hopes were. But people cannot survive without hope. Even the useless and silly ones. We need them to keep us going from day to day. Like hoping to make someone smile, hoping to be saved, hoping to win that million dollars you entered a contest for. Yes, we have to blend reality in with most of them, but hope is essential. Like air and water. We cannot live without it.
Lunchtime came and I found myself formulating plans to make Hermione come back to me. To see that I still loved her and that I was sorry. To bring her out of Potters hold and into my arms once more, as was her true destiny. I knew it. I had yet to prove it, but I knew it. I just had to make her realize it. I had to. I felt as if my sanity and life depended on it. I just had to make it come to play. I didn't know how but I would. I had to.
I stood in the lunch hall, tapping my foot impatiently. That Monica girl should join me momentarily. My thoughts still on my plans, I glanced around. Everyone was where they were normally. But Monica was nowhere in sight. What house was she from anyways? I sighed and shook my head. It had been five minutes. I was going to go eat. I sat down at my place at my table, putting some food impatiently on my plate and beginning to eat. Blaise shot me a snickering, but sympathetic look and I shrugged. She wasn't exactly worth my time. Nothing was remarkably stunning about her...right? Except for those bloody eyes. Those endearing, shocking eyes...
No. Her eyes weren't stunning. They were not, under any circumstances captivating, breath catching, shining, innocent...I shook my head and shoved a fork full of roast beef into my mouth. I concentrated on grinding ever morsel of the meat into tender bits of mush to keep my mind from her. I pushed the food about my plate, organizing them into categories. Order, I had to have order.
"Mr. Malfoy! Are you ready?" Her voice was near to my ear, sending shivers throughout my whole person. Her breath graced my ear, as she was speaking into it. I straightened unconsciously, my shoulders lifting. I turned and looked at her, being only inches from her face, as she did not move. I stared into her eyes. Those wondrous...
"Mr. Malfoy?" She tilted her head and stood up. Little curls swung about her face, making her look like a little angel once more.
"Yes I'm ready. You were quite late though. But I suppose I can forgive you this once." Pushing my food from me I stood. I offered her my arm, which she ignored. I dropped it immediately. "Shall we go?"
A/N- Wow...it's been awhile. Well that was the next chapter. I hope you guys like it. I need to go get some sleep. I'm almost dead from lack of it .''