Thanks for the reception to the first chapter, I think this could lead into something, though I won't get my hopes up. ;) Don't own anything except the plot.
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly in a mixture of anticipation and dread. Once she opened them again the world would come spinning back, and Dumbledore's speech would continue. He would announce the new positions of status among the students for the following year, including prefects and heads. It would both confirm her appointed position, and repeat the terrible information that her cohort would be none other than Malfoy. She felt a comforting hand on her shoulder, and opened her eyes slowly, grinning at Harry.
He grinned back and shot a scornful look at Ron, as he complained for the sake of his never ending hunger. She turned her gaze to the High Table just to hear her name mentioned, followed closely by Malfoy's. She shot a glare over to the Slytherin table, and he wasn't even paying attention. It was obvious he had been chosen for the job based on his marks, and not school enthusiasm. Or else all the others were constantly in detention, she thought, grinning lightly at the prospect of either Harry or Ron being Head Boy.
The three had been through more than anyone could even begin to imagine together over the last 6 years. Hermione didn't expect this year to be any different, though perhaps not with as much of a prideful outcome, regarding the war. She was positive that they would get past it though, as they always did. Satisfied, she watched as the food appeared on plates, much to the excitement of Ron.
She ate in contentment, overjoyed to be back at her only true home. With a prick of sadness she remembered it would all be over in less than a year. She glanced around the marvelous hall, taking in everything from the enchanted ceiling, showing murky grey clouds. She watched as her professors spoke of their lesson plans, stories of the summer, or whatever happened to pass their minds. She looked at all the great friends she had made in the past.
She finally looked at the Slytherin table. The most sullen of the entire group, eating in silence with the rare bit of noticeable conversation. She felt a flare of anger as she wondered how many of them would be fighting with the dark side in the war. As soon as it came that was. No one knew, though it was certain by most that it would occur in this year. Her last year. Ruined by unexplainable hate.
She didn't realize she was glaring until the eyes of her target raised to meet hers. Dark grey burned into her. She shifted her stare, bitterly imagining this very person to be one of the traitors. Of course he would be, he's a Slytherin, her mind told her. Though she saw one or two of that table, with a light to them, they hadn't yet been destroyed by the hate of their kind. Where spite, anger, and coldness dominated.
As the feast ended, Professor McGonagall walked up to giver Hermione directions to her new common room. Harry and Ron were shocked, as well as disgusted at the prospective living conditions that faced their best friend. She could do nothing but follow her orders and walk in the opposite direction of the Gryffindor Tower she had come to love.
She walked slowly down the hall, in no real hurry to arrive at her destination. On the bright side, she was sure her common room would be simply delightful, regardless of having to share it with a prat like Malfoy. He would probably never even be there anyway. She didn't imagine him as the type of person to sit around doing nothing very often. Although everything about him was quite a mystery, even she knew as much.
She approached a regal looking painting of an eighteenth century man and woman on a picnic together, so it seemed. The man stood and bowed towards her as he saw her, and she smiled lightly. She whispered the password she had been told, and it swung open, eliciting a gasp from Hermione. What struck her the most was its pure size. Absolutely monstrous, the common room stretched for what seemed like miles. She noticed it was quite similar to the Gryffindor common room, with couches surrounding a warm fire.
She took a small step into the room and noticed a large bookcase in the corner, filled with every book she had ever read and infinitely more. She was so enticed by the room, she didn't seem to remember, or notice the arrival of the one she would be sharing it with. He took one tasteless look around, and shoved past her.
"Time to learn not to stand in doorways, Granger," he muttered, as he headed up the magnificent staircase in the opposite end of the common room. She glared shortly into the floor, and slowly inspected the room further. She ventured up the staircase, and stopped to admire her room. It also covered a great expanse, though not nearly as much space as downstairs, she noted. Sighing, she fell over onto the bed and lay there until exhaustion and her full stomach pushed her to succumb to much needed sleep.
He glared around his new room, rather dissatisfied. He appreciated his room in the Slytherin dorms better, it was darker and colder. Just like Granger to absolutely love the place the moment she laid eyes on it, he though bitterly. He disliked every mention of her, and anything to do with her. He glared at her closed door across the hall from his, slamming his own door. The silver name plate on the other side of the door rattled, and he smirked, glad something wasn't perfect. If there was something he hated, it was perfection.
He woke on Sunday morning and went grudgingly down the staircase into the common room. He saw Granger on one couch by the fire, absorbed in a book. He sneered at her, pink lips twisted upwards. She felt his stare on her back and shivered, all too aware who it was. He continued out of the room without a word, slamming the portrait shut harshly behind him, causing her to jump. She absent mindedly flipped the page, unnoticeably losing focus as each second passed.
He walked toward the Great Hall for breakfast, and saw the usual gaggle of Gryffindors cheerily eating their first meal of the day, in deep enjoyable conversation. For half a second he wondered why Granger hadn't been down to join them, but he realized perhaps she was just stupid. His sharp eyes caught a slight movement, as he saw Potter set his hand on that of the youngest Weasley, and she grinned at him. Draco smirked, eyes alight with malice and continued on.
He wandered back to his new common room later on in the day, in quite a state of boredom. Maybe if he could spend some time bothering the Mudblood it would amuse him for a time. And of course he knew what he could use as his ammo; half the school knew she had a type of crush on Potter. Of course this made Draco snort with disgust, at both the situation and the raw feelings she harboured. Love will get you nowhere, was the motto that had been taught, or rather beaten into him from a very young age.
He noticed with a spark of malice that she was still reading, oblivious to the rest of the world. He sat down slowly on the opposite couch and watched her for a moment. So involved, so free. For a moment he wondered what it was to be her. All she had to worry about were marks, which weren't even a bother as she was the smartest girl in the school. Smartest for centuries.
She shot him a curious glance, as he opened his mouth and abruptly closed it again. Planning the best way to anger her, as well as break her heart. He contemplated how much joy he would get from such a sight, though it wouldn't much mean anything to him.
"What is Potter to you? What do you feel for him?" He asked slowly, staring just past her head, into the couch, deep in thought. She looked up with cold eyes, and glared at him.
"Harry's my best friend," she said dangerously, as if it were a threat rather than a comment. He shrugged loosely, unaffected.
"Then I suppose you won't mind the fact that I just saw him in the Great Hall, behaving as more than friends, with Ginny Weasley," he said maliciously, lips turned into a smirk. She appeared unperturbed by the news, though he could easily see through her calm exterior into the fright in her eyes. She felt his gaze burn her skin, and her face heat up.
"He- he wouldn't, I know Harry," she muttered in a confident manner to herself more than to Draco. He watched her argue with her mind. She looked up at him, into his cold silver eyes. "He wouldn't, he knows how I feel, you obviously could tell and you despise me," she gave him a suspicious glance.
"Does he honestly? Looked to me like he hadn't a clue," he continued on darkly, not concerned of her wavering hope, and her watering eyes. "And I happen to be a rather perceptive person. I understand the human psyche, much unlike Potter. He wouldn't be able to see if someone cared for him if they waved it in his face," he scoffed, with a slight grin. In no case did the warmth reach his eyes. It disturbed her, almost appearing as if he had finally cracked and gone insane.
She looked at him for a moment, almost pleading with him to tell her it was all a lie. To say he had made it up, and that Harry would never feel anything for anyone but her. A spark of anger melted inside her, spreading within, at the thought of him and Ginny. She couldn't take it, she stood up and went towards the portrait. She stopped suddenly in her tracks, turned back around and walked solemnly up the staircase to her room instead, giving him one last saddened gaze. He met her eyes with coldness, rather than the warmth she had maybe wished or even hoped for.
He smirked to himself, sitting down in front of the fire. First day back and he had nearly reduced the Mudblood bookworm to tears. The Slytherins would be oh-so proud. Though of course they would, most of them worshipped every bloody word he spoke. Perhaps not Blaise. Even Draco saw the changes in him over what he had experienced in his life. It was almost enough to break him, for him to feel something. Almost.
She sat in front of the warm fire in the Gryffindor common room. It had been two weeks ago, when her heart had been crushed at the hands of Draco Malfoy. The next day Harry had told her about him and Ginny. How they had gotten together over the summer, and were just unable to tell her before, due to everything new. She smiled and said how happy she was for them. Just like a best friend was.
She wondered, why would he have told her? To see her in pain no doubt, so he could laugh coldly as she lost her heart to the one who could never have it. But why not let her find out for herself later on, humiliate herself in front of her friends. She always knew Slytherins were known for their coldness and the fact that they tended to place themselves on the dark side. He could have easily laughed at her in the hall, if her eyes were red and empty. If her schoolwork was affected.
She stared into the fire, confused about many things. The duty of Head Girl had been one of more responsibility than she had expected when she first received her badge. Two years before, the head girl had told her how much fun it was. How she would most definitely have the position, and love it to pieces. She didn't mention how she got along with that year's head boy.
Ginny suddenly waved a hand in front of her eyes, bringing her back to the present, as she grinned apologetically at her friends. As they began their conversation again, she drifted. Everyone was expecting her to be absolutely perfect. Dumbledore, McGonagall, even her best friends of Gryffindor. She had strayed from them, she noticed it even. In only two weeks she had been disconnected from great bonds that had formed over six fabulous years.
She watched as Harry gazed at Ginny lovingly. She tried with all her might to feel happy, to be overjoyed at how perfect they were together. She doubted Harry would mind being called perfect. She hated the word.
It went along with more trouble than it was worth, by all means. She let out a deep sigh, as she slowly put her books back into her bag. There was a prefect's meeting she was to attend, to keep up her position and status. Overwhelming, really. She would see him again, see his cold dark eyes. She often wondered why she had bore a part of her soul to him. As expected, he threw it back in her face. Why would he care what she felt, or what happened to her. He didn't know emotion.
She sat on the couch by Ron, as he flipped through the latest edition of his Quidditch magazine, sending occasional glances across the room at Lavender Brown. She wished more than anything that someone would send secret looks her way. To hold her like Harry did Ginny. She wanted someone in her life, as more than a friend, though she wouldn't admit it. No boy in the school would ever care for her, but perhaps in the future. Her Muggle future. A tear fought its way out of her large brown eye.
She remembered her brief spell of a relationship with Viktor Krum in fourth year. She had travelled to Bulgaria that Summer as he had requested, to find that he wanted nothing more than friendship. She was nothing, just a fling while he was away from his regular lifestyle. To think she had taken him seriously.
Ron glanced over and his expression turned to concern as he saw the solitary tear make its way down her cheek. She hastily wiped it away, excusing herself and left the room, wandering aimlessly towards her own. She didn't need to be around that type of atmosphere for the moment.
She had no earlier sat down on her own couch when there was a knock on the door. She opened it, and found her colleague and good friend, Mandy Brocklehurst. She was above all, shocked to see her there.
"Hey Mione, is Draco here?" She asked kindly. Hermione wrinkled her nose for a moment. Mandy laughed at her reaction. "I just need to tell him something."
"No, I don't think he is, unless he's hiding in his room," she answered. "Should I leave a message?" She asked, as Mandy looked disturbed. She grew from happy, as the smile faded and grew into a frown. She turned angry not long after, and Hermione became slightly scared. After all, she had never seen this collected Ravenclaw lose her emotions as such.
Her eyes glinted. "Yes, write this down will you?" She asked slyly. Hermione grabbed a quill and parchment and wrote as Mandy dictated, dark grin increasing with each word she spoke.
Five minutes later, Mandy was ready to leave, in search of him herself. She waved farewell to Hermione, as the latter walked back into the common room, feeling happier than she had for a while. Ten minutes later he walked into the common room, and flopped down on the couch, staring into the dying fire.
"Did Mandy find you?" She asked nonchalantly. His eyes flickered and he seemed to become irritated.
"No, she didn't," he said shortly, not bothering to look at her.
"She left a message," Hermione replied. He shrugged so she took it as a signal to tell him. She pulled out the small piece of paper, and read from it in a monotone. "What the hell is the matter with you, you heartless son-of-a-bitch, I can't believe you would do that, even being you. At least you could have told me, before going behind my back like that, you worthless piece of shit. I can't believe I ever trusted an asshole like you." She finished, eyes gleaming. He however, showed no reaction.
"Was that it?" He asked, with no emotion. She noticed that the barrier over his eyes was almost cracking, whatever it meant or showed.
"Well, she also asked me to slap you, but I'll leave that up to her." She smirked, and he almost said something about it, but kept his mouth shut. He raised an eyebrow and shrugged, as if he didn't care what she would to do. Hermione laughed, for she enjoyed his reaction, and departed to her room.