Chapter 3: The Edge of Your Sword Isn't Sharp Enough for Me to Bleed
A/N: Sorry this took so long in coming, I was in Minnesota on a fishing trip for a week where I went mildly insane and began conversing with bait. But, on the bright side, I did write quite a bit. Well, here comes the… uh… much awaited new chapter? Heh, yeah, right. Okay, no more procrastination. Oh, by the way, the title is from the song Bleed by Anna Nalick.
Draco Malfoy had never known a predicament he couldn't think his way through. Until now, that is. He was not by any means dumb, and a natural Occlumens. But at the time being, his emotions were turbulent and close to the surface. Completely disregarding class, he stalked down the halls toward the Head's dorm.
He bellowed at some giggly fourth year girls in his hallway and thundered through the portrait hole. Picking up the nearest chair, Draco hurled it at the wall with all the force he could muster. The earsplitting crash was immensely satisfying, so he continued chucking chairs, tables, and even a couch at the walls until every piece of furniture light enough to toss was in pieces on the floor. Enjoying his handiwork, he gazed around smugly and strode purposefully into his bedroom and tumbled onto his bed in a deep slumber.
A weight on his shoulder and a warm hand on his forehead was what finally roused Draco from his sleep. He groggily opened his eyes to find Hermione's dark brown ones inches from his face and sparkling with tears and concern.
"Are you okay?" was the first thing out of her mouth. Draco blinked in surprise and confusion; no rant about the destruction and chaos in their common room? He also registered the fact that her cheeks were tear-stained, which she hastily wiped away.
"You wouldn't wake up," she explained softly. "I was scared that something awful had happened to you." Draco was struck dumb. She had worried about him? Cried over him?
This is way too much to comprehend right now, he thought, frustrated.
"Say something!" Hermione demanded, looking as if she thought he had in fact been injured somewhere in the region of his brain.
He took a shuddering breath and said, "Thank you, Granger." He gave a crooked half-smile and added irritably, "Now either strip down or leave, your choice." Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked his leg hard before leaving him to his confused thoughts.
Little did he know that for the briefest moment, her mind unconsciously entertained the idea and outcomes of his offer.
I don't know where that came from, she thought, shocked with herself. But it's definitely not coming back! Looking at the clock, she realized it was nearly time for dinner. Absentmindedly, she banged on Malfoy's door.
"Malfoy!" she hollered. "The reason you should be feeling hungry right now is because you haven't eaten since breakfast! Now come— the door abruptly opened, cutting her off in mid-yell. A scowling Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, wearing green plaid boxers and holding a white tee-shirt.
"Granger, do tell me," he started dangerously, "if I look like I'm hungry or going down to dinner like this."
Hermione flushed in embarrassment and anger. "Pardon me for being civil!" she shouted before reaching into his room, grabbed the door, and slammed it shut in his face.
Malfoy leaned against his door and slid to the ground, cradling his head in his hands.
Why did I do that? She cared about me and my well-being, he thought in distress.
I don't need her to care about me, another voice argued vehemently. I need no one. Malfoys walk alone.
Liar! It's nice to have someone special like her there. Draco gasped at the absurdity of this thought and viciously slammed his head backwards into the door.
"No. She isn't special. She is nothing to me," he hissed to himself.
Hermione Granger had never felt so alone in her life. Harry and Ron had both left without an explanation two weeks ago and had yet to return
Even when they're here, all they want me around for is to do their homework for them, she admitted to herself. Even Ron, with whom she had once had an off and on relationship with, was never there for here, never really cared about her. She sat at her usual table in the library with silent tears streaming down her face at these horrifying realizations.
"Maybe I really don't have any friends," she whispered. This awful revelation let loose a quiet sob of despair.
I need to be alone, Hermione thought, and quickly ran to her portrait.
"Loathing," she choked out as the portrait obediently swung open. Malfoy, who must've been sleeping on the couch, drowsily sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Hermione stumbled through the portrait hole and tripped, falling flat on her face. Finding no strength left to get up, she lay there, breathing quick and shallow breaths.
Malfoy stood up and blinked, unsure of what to make of her strange and uncharacteristic behavior. Deciding to act as he usually did towards her, he snarled, "What the bloody hell are you doing, Granger?"
For a moment, she did nothing. Then, she miraculously found strength in her pain and lifted herself off the ground. All of a sudden, fiery rage kicked in. Hermione let out a war cry and sprinted to Malfoy, who backed up against the wall in alarm. With one uncannily powerful swipe, she pinned him to the wall by the throat.
She hissed dangerously, "How dare you talk to me like that, you vile, wretched—oof!" All the breath rushed out of her as Malfoy ducked out of her grasp and slammed her against the wall by her shoulders. He didn't hold her too tightly, though; he didn't want to actually hurt her.
Why do I care? He asked himself in shock.
I don't, another voice assured.
Meanwhile, Hermione seemed to come out of a trance. She looked mildly surprised at where she happened to be. As her short-term memory flooded back, guilt enveloped her.
"I am so sorry," she choked, fighting back tears and losing. "It's not right of me to take my problems out on you."
Malfoy relaxed his grip, but kept his hands in place.
Just in case she goes loony again, he told himself.
Not because it's comforting to hold her warm body close to yours? A snide voice asked. Draco gasped and literally threw Hermione away from him. She gave him a confused and slightly hurt glance and dashed to her room, leaving him there to battle with his thoughts.
No. She is disgusting. I despise and loathe everything about that repulsive Mudblood. Nothing could ever change that, he firmly told himself, sinking back onto the couch. He wasn't sure he was convincing himself anymore.
A/N: Well here it finally is! Shorter than I wanted it to be, but this seemed like a good place to leave off. The next update will be within a week, I hope, but my AP (college level) class has a ton of work and I have volleyball for two hours AND school starts on Thursday. AAH! So, adieu for now and please review me to help me improve this! Oh, and thank you oh so much to the lovely readers who have already commented and reviewed my work, you guys rule my world!
