Title: Anger Management

Author: S.L. Pagniello

Chapter: 2

Ship: Dr/ Hr

Rating: R

Synopsis: He hates her, everything about her. Her hair, her eyes, her fucking muggle clothes! Now, during their 7th year at Hogwarts, he must not only deal with her but also learn to live with her. However, that may take the destruction of everything in his room... (HBP totally blows this into AU, but oh well!)

It had been at least three weeks since their... encounter. Draco wasn't quite sure, time was flying by. Granger had been avoiding him though, that much was certain. He hadn't actually seen her out of class in two, maybe three days. He smirked; perhaps she was hiding from him like a little rabbit? Draco sat in the common room, feet propped up on an ottoman. Several of his schoolbooks lay around him, as well as several blank and scribbled on parchments.

Granger hadn't yet returned from classes, of that he was sure. He'd come directly from his last class, of which he had with her, and she'd taken a way opposite his. Frowning, he looked to the door. He almost missed sneering at her when she came in. Almost. He directed himself back to his books- he had several inches worth of parchment due the next day and he hadn't gotten very far yet.

Perhaps an hour later a noise interrupted his thoughts. He heard a thud against the common room door, and then muffled voices. He strained his ears to make out what was going on outside...

"No, just let it alone!" A female voice. Perhaps Grangers, but he wasn't familiar enough with her voice to place it through a closed and locked door.

"No! That bastard needs some incentive to leave you the 'ell alone!" Defiantly Weasly's voice. The red headed boy Draco could place- he'd had enough spats with him and loved to hear to boy whine and cry. It just made Draco's day feel more... fulfilled.

"No, let me handle it! It's my problem!" The female's voice again. Now he was sure it was Hermione. Why else would Weasly be clawing at his door? He heard another thud, most likely Weasly was tying to beat the door down, but Granger kept catching his arm. Pathetic, to let a woman rule what you did. Especially a woman such as Granger.

"If it's your problem, then it's my problem!" Suddenly the common room door burst open. Weasly stood in the doorframe, his face almost as red as his hair, glowing with anger. Draco could have laughed. Granger stood behind him, frowning. She was obviously not pleased at what he was doing, but was no longer going to try and stop him. Whether it be out of hate for Draco, or the wish to teach Weasly a lesson, one couldn't be sure.

So, Draco pushed his books and parchments from his lap, arranging them neatly as if nothing had just happened.

"Get over here you pathetic excuse for a-" Weasly has begun, but Draco was going to finish.

"Excuse for a what? Exactly what were you going to say, Weasly?" He asked, getting to his feet now. He still wore most of his uniform, except his tie was loosened and his shirt untucked. Weasly was fumbling for words. Draco could tell he was trying hard to come up with something intelligent.

"Don't try. You'll only hurt yourself." He said with a smug look. Draco stood now, arms crossed loosely. Weasly glared at him with hate in his eyes, and Draco only chuckled. However, in mid-snicker, Weasly wheeled back an arm and slammed it hard into Draco right cheekbone.

He stumbled slightly, but didn't fall. In fact, Draco straightened, and his eyes flashed with an immediate anger. The red was already swelling in his face, but no pain showed.

"How dare you strike me." He hissed. Granger saw it, saw that he was going to hit Weasly and not stop hitting him.

"Stop, Malfoy stop!" She cried, now jumping in front of Weasly. Weasly went to push her aside, but Draco got to her first. Instead of sending her, backhanded and sprawling onto the floor (like he ought have), he simply grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of the way like a child. After Granger was successfully removed from range, and while Weasly was sputtering out some nonsense and trying to hit him again in a blind rage- Draco laid him out flat.

Granger was immediately at Weasly's side, and Draco loomed over them both. His eyes were clouded over with anger, but more so disgust.

"I can't believe that you thought you could hurt me Weasly." He uttered down at the only half conscious boy before him. Granger turned to glare up at Draco.

"Just leave him alone!" she yelled, tears in her eyes.

"Why, so he can attack me again?" Draco said coldly. Granger stared at him, mouth open slightly, trying to decide how to retort.

"In case you hadn't noticed, he attacked me first, I retaliated. Not that I should have to explain myself to the likes of you. Just get him the fuck out of my common room." Draco said, now turning his back on Granger.

"This is my common room to, ya know!" She yelled back at him. Draco laughed now, shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter.

"Then fuckin' act like it! Show your face! You're a pathetic excuse for witch, Mudblood!" He yelled, turning and jabbing an accusing finger at her. Why was he telling her to show her face? He hated her! Draco himself wasn't sure... perhaps he was lonely... Perhaps later he'd think harder about it. Now, he was just angry.

Granger stared at him, those eyes showing that... that emotion again. That emotion that he hated. That... pity or whatever the fuck it was! Draco felt like ripping his hair out again.

"Get him the fuck out of here! And you get the fuck out of here too, I'm sick of looking at you!" He yelled. Granger didn't move for a moment, and Draco's anger broke a release. He grabbed Granger by her bushy locks and hauled her to her feet. He brought her face-to-face again, but this time she seemed a bit more prepared, and she spit right into his face.

Draco didn't even wipe it away, nor did he seem perturbed. "Bitch, if you think that is going to stop me, you better well fucking start praying." He seethed. Granger was rigid, a hand now grasping Draco's shirt, as she tried to push him away. She didn't yell out though, something Draco was surprised about.

"Let. Me. Go." She said lowly. Weasly was still at her feet, drifting in and out of consciousness. He may have had a concussion, but no one was paying enough attention to him at the moment to notice.

"Why, so you can help your boy toy? I'd rather let him die on the floor at my feet and watch you suffer it." Draco sneered. He knew Weasly wasn't going to die of course, but it would have pleased him at that moment if he did.

Granger struggled a bit, but Draco's grip only strengthened. She glared daggers at him, this time, not showing fear.

"Fuck you, Malfoy." She said, foul language sounding wrong on her tongue. Draco smirked, enjoying the sound of it a little too much for his taste.

"Such words you speak. Be careful, you'll sound like me." Granger struggled more at this, and almost began to thrash. However, Draco moved his hand from her hair and to her face, grabbing her chin as he did the first time they touched. He squeezed her face, making her lips pucker involuntarily. Her face reddened, he wasn't sure if it was in anger or embarrassment.

"I can almost look at you without cringing, Granger." Draco said, almost sadistically squeezing her face. She shook her head violently, and yanked her free arm back to hit him. However, Draco was to fast and caught her arm.

"Never strike me." He said, deadpan. She stared at him, knowing that he meant business.

"Just... let me go, Malfoy." She said, her voice almost defeated. She took a breath, attempting to let the anger release from her body. She became less tense. Draco knew what she was trying to do. He enjoyed her anger, her hate. She was giving in so he would go away. She was smart; he'd give her that. But Draco Malfoy was smarter. Oh was Draco Malfoy smarter.

"I'll let you go." He said, slowly releasing her face. Granger rubbed her cheeks, the redness in them apparent. Draco looked her over, taking a step back. She frowned at him, and then turned, refusing to look him in the face. She bent back down to try and handle Weasly. Draco saddled up behind her though, without her noticing. Weasly was out cold now, and would need to be taken to the medical wing to see Pomfrey.

Draco touched the top of Hermione head and felt her bristle, apparently expecting to be yanked up by her hair again. However, he simply let his fingers drift idly through her hair. He knew this confused her, as she didn't look up at him right away. His face was soft, at least until her eyes met his. Immediately his face contorted into a sneer.

"Take care of your little man, Granger." He said, his voice venomous. He pulled on a strand of her hair, causing her to pull away quickly. He easily let loose of her hair, chuckling. She glared hatred towards him as he turned, hands filling his pockets.

"Get him out of here. And you get out to, I have no further use for you." He stated, then closing himself in his room. He heard something crash against his door- it sounded like a book. He smirked to himself, so Granger to had a nasty side? Draco then threw himself upon his lavish bed, turning to stare at the ceiling and rethink what had just happened.

He drew back on the past 10 minutes of his life, his eyes dulling in concentration. What had just happened? Nothing too much, really. He'd laid Weasly out on the common room floor. That was far more than enough to make him smile for the day. However, this thing about Granger... He'd told her to show up more often, did he not? Dwelling back on it, yes in fact he had. Why? Why would he want Granger to be around more?

Draco flipped onto his side to stare at his dresser. The houselves had fixed his shattered mirror long ago, so he was looking at his own, full on reflection. Anymore he hated his reflection. Despised it almost. Anymore when he looked at himself, all he saw was a child trying to be a man. Was that what he was, simply a child? He wondered.

He wanted Granger to appear more often, be around more often. Be around him more often? Why? Draco stared hard at his reflection. Why, why, why? Was he that lonely in this world? Were things around his that discombobulated that he needed- wanted the company of the inferior being known as Hermione Granger?

He stood now, shaking the wrinkles out of his clothes, attempting to make himself look presentable to the mirror. He straightened his tie, and attempted a devilish smirk into the reflective glass. He hardly succeeded. He frowned now, setting a hand lightly on the mirror. The preceding years had been... to much. Too much for him to bear. Every day he felt himself get weaker. His stamina reduce. He had to make up for it by being particularly rude and unhelpful to all, professors included. Now a days, the professors counted themselves lucky if he just sat in class as said nothing. At least he turned in all of his course work.

Draco sighed, letting his hand slide down the mirror. Why was he so weak? Especially now, when he needed to be so strong. So strong for his mother and father... for his family name which had almost be turned to cinders upon the defeat of Voldemort, for his house now that he was Head Boy.

He laughed aloud. Head Boy. What a joke. He was no more fit to be Head boy than that dupe, Weasly. He banged his head softly against the mirror, idly trying to convince himself that it wasn't true. That he had earned this respect. Frowning, he knew he was wrong. Dumbledore had awarded him this position not because of his grades (which had always been excellent, by the way) nor for his social status (which after the Voldemort escapade had dwindled considerably) but out of pity. Dumbledore knew that Draco had sacrificed much for the fall of the Dark Lord. Perhaps no one knew better than Dumbledore, because on one of his weaker days, Draco had spilled it all. He frowned, remembering that day and sending himself further into a fit of despair.

Idly, his mind drifted back to the bushy haired Gryffindor. He didn't move, analyzing himself for a moment. Analyzing himself, and her. His already darkened eyes narrowed as he thought. Why would he need her? There were to many 'why's'. Far too many for his liking. Draco was a man who liked control... and at this point he didn't even have control of himself. This angered him. It angered him to the point of breaking things. So break things he would. He would break everything until he felt better. Until he could lay in the midst of shattered glass and wood and just not feel anymore. Not feel anything.

He picked up the thing nearest to him- some trinket his mother had given to him long ago. He threw it across the room, hitting a far wall and succeeding in shattering the trinket. He picked up the next thing- a lamp and that to was shattered in an instant. He began to break everything he could get his hands on, screaming and yelling in the midst of it and everything and nothing at all. Occasionally her would curse Granger, or his parents. Sometimes even Dumbledore, Voldemort or Harry Potter. Anything, anything to make his needs abate. Anything to make it all go away.

When he'd destroyed most of the contents of his room, he lay on his floor, exhausted. He didn't know how long he'd been in his fit, but he was tired, so tired. His face was hot and his limbs ached. He tried to get to his feet, and staggered, catching the edge of his dresser for support. He stared into his mirror again- the top right part of it cracked and shattered. What he saw he didn't like. A man without control, a child. He screamed again, releasing the dresser and falling to the floor, staring at the ceiling. He lay in the middle of his floor, amid the broken glass. His fists and face were bloodied, but he didn't care. The feelings would not abate, and nothing would let him be free.

He heard her voice at the door, but it was faint. Why so faint, she was only a few feet away... His eyes fluttered, and he wasn't sure what was happening. He heard her voice again, more urgent. Could he have her his name on her lips instead of her surname? Doubtful.

Granger burst through the door just before Draco's field of vision cut out. The last thing he saw was her worried face and bushy locks. Idly, his last thoughts were of how she got into his room. Magic, at this point, seemed upsurd, and he fell quickly into unconsciousness.

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A/N well, it took me a little longer to crank this out than the first chapter. :P But I like it. Thank you guys SO MUCH for the reviews on my first chapter! It really helped me get this one done. ;.; I hope I've kept well with Draco's cannon personality that everyone seemed to like so much. :D I have an idea for the next chapter, amazingly... so it may get done rather quickly. Still not sure of the ending, but I can't quite see it yet. Well, I hope you guys enjoyed, and I look forward to writing for you all again!

Update: Ah, another chapter spell checked and grammer-ised. Don't you guys feel loved:D