This is a slightly odd DracoHermoine romance. Not too much affection at all but it's there slightly. Anyways, I'm on spring break so hopefully, if I get any breaks from my intense dance practices, I'll be able to write up the next chapter of my main story and post it!
Anyways, please tell me what you think of this.
Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or nay of its characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling but I do own those characters that you do not recognize.
He watched her as she walked briskly towards the lake. Her face was strong and held no emotion. Cold. That's what it was. He did not find it a particularly attractive feature on her face. Then again, he did not find her particularly attractive either.
He respected her though. She stood strong while those around her were weak. She had the will and power to do almost anything that she wanted and Draco grudgingly admired her for that.
That was why when she collapsed by the lake in a pathetic heap, he felt that urge to shake her hard. She was supposed to be the strong one that everyone looked up to. Someone had to be there who could give comfort to everyone at a time like this. Everyone needed someone who could show them that there was still a chance to come out victorious in the end. The war had damaged people permanently. He supposed now that he saw it that she was no exception. She hid it very well though.
Still, he could not allow this to happen. He looked around coolly at the sniveling idiots surrounding him in the entrance hall of Hogwarts and left. A sneer crossed his face at the mere thought of these people.
His robes swirled around him as he strode towards her bent figure. The silver cane he held in his left hand gave off a hollow, empty sort of sound as it hit the ground. He could see her clearly now. Tears were pouring down her face, yet she was making no sound.
He stopped right in front of her and looked coldly at the top of her head. It was no longer extremely bushy but it was not something to brag about either. A wide streak of pure silver ran down the middle of her hair. She had been hit by a rather nasty curse there. The curse was supposed to induce fear and kill the person from it, but this particular one backfired on the curser. Hermione had not only held off the curse, but she had somehow managed to repel it back to the person who had thrown it at her. While he died, she escaped with a streak of silver in her hair and a scar that ran from the top of her forehead, backwards towards the bottom of her neck. Draco had saved her a countless number of times from Crutacious curses that had been sent her way but the few that did manage to hit her left deep gashes on her back that still bled sometimes.
"Get up," he murmured coldly.
She knew that he was there but did not acknowledge his presence.
"Get up, Granger." Draco stared at her once more, his eyes growing darker with each second.
As she continued to ignore him, Draco noticed that she was shaking slightly. Her breath was coming in uneven gasps and it unnerved him somewhat.
He grabbed her arm and tightening his grip on it ground out, "Stop crying, filthy mudblood."
With that, she burst into tears. Draco let go of her arm partially stunned and disgusted at the same time. He took a deep breath and placed both his hand on her shoulder. "Control yourself," he hissed.
"I...can't," she whispered, tears cascading down her face. "There's nothing left, Malfoy. Nothing but hell..." She tore out of his grasp with a strangled cry and hurtled herself back to the ground. She wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her head in her arms, her body shaking with each sob.
Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was never one to be patient with an overemotional woman but this was different. He had never known her to cry and look so pitiful like this. She did get mad as hell sometimes, but she never cried. Hermione Granger was supposed to be the strong one. She was the one that everyone came to when they had problems. They would need her more than ever now that Harry Potter was gone. They were losing this war and she could not break herself down at a time like this.
He strode over to her weeping form on the ground and nudged her with his cane. When she whacked it away, he let out a feral growl and hit the side of her leg with it.
She turned her face towards him with a hateful glare. Her crying had stopped and the tears had left ugly marks on her face. "What is your problem?"
Draco looked at her with an icy expression and said, "Crying is for weaklings."
"Oh?" she asked, wiping her face. "And did your daddy tell you that, Malfoy?"
Draco's cold demeanor did not waver as he replied, "As a matter of fact, he did. It also happens to be something that I strongly believe in."
She turned away from him just as her tears started a fresh path down her face. He rolled his eyes and hauled her off the ground with one arm. He threw his cane onto the ground and titled her chin up so that he was staring right at her. He brought his face close to hers and muttered, "I demand that you stop this incessant crying at once. It is not going to get you anywhere. Potter and Weasley are dead." A sneer appeared on his face as she glared at him with as much hatred as she could muster. "Get used to it."
"You bastard," she spat. She raised her hand to hit him, but Draco caught her fist deftly in his hand and said, "Other men may be afraid to hit a girl but I am not." He almost groaned out loud as her eyes began watering once again. He saw every drop that came out of them this time. He marveled at the size of them and how clear they looked against her skin.
The two of them stood like that for a while until Hermione jerked herself out of his grasp. She wrapped her arms around herself and turned away.
"I take it you're done with this childish behavior, then?"
She did not look at him but asked, "Why?" She sighed slightly and asked, "Why is it so hard for you to let me cry?"
Draco gazed at her back stonily and replied, "Crying is for the weak."
"And I am not weak?" she demanded. Her eyes blazed with anger. "A strong person would have been able to save the world. A strong person would have been able to help others. A strong person," she spat, "could have saved the lives of her friends, who gave their every breath for her! I am not strong, Malfoy."
He looked at her with an amused look, which was a very rare occurrence for him. He rarely smiled and when he did, no one was there to witness it. He was not a happy sort of man. He was not an expressive sort of man either. Draco preferred to keep a look on his face that did not betray in the least what he was thinking. He could not stand the thought of his enemy thinking that he was a push over. It chilled him to his very core.
"What on earth could possibly be so funny?" she asked in a deadly quiet voice. Her eyes seemed to quiver with electricity.
Draco let out a loud laugh that caused Hermione to drop her jaw out of shock. In fact she was so stunned and scared by his behavior that she took a step away from him.
"Mudblood...Granger...Hermione," he cracked an ugly smile at her and grasped her shoulders. "You are one of the most pathetic people I have ever met in my life."
"Does it shock you to know that I think that same of you?"
He ignored her easily and said, "You are a Gryffindor, a bloody lion. The king of the beasts." His eyes narrowed at her. He grasped her shoulders and said, "You are the strongest person that I have ever met in my life. And to see you crying out here makes you no better than the rest of the ignorant beings that walk the face of this world."
She pushed his hands off her and said, "Was that supposed to be a compliment because it sure did not sound like one." She turned away from him, failing to see that dark look that dawned over his face. His hand shot out and grabbed hers, quickly pulling him back to her.
"Never, turn your back on me." He looked intently into her mud brown eyes that bore into his grey ones with intense dislike. "I may be one your side but know this. I will never change from what I used to be."
She frowned faintly and said, "You say that you haven't changed but you have..." She took his hand and pried it off her other one. She took a step away from him and said, "I am going to cry, Draco Malfoy. I am going to bawl until I have no more tears to shed for the rest of my life. I am going to cry until my face shrivels up beyond recognition. And you know what? I don't care what you have to say." As she was saying this, the tears steadily dripped down the side of her face. "I swear it."
Draco's eyes widened as he heard her. She could not swear it. If she broke her oath and stopped crying even for a millisecond, she would be in for the most painful death that death held for her. She would burn in hell for eternity. The fates did not take kindly to people breaking their oaths. Under normal circumstances, Draco could care less but there was something about Hermione Granger. Something that made him want to tear his hair out and yell with frustration.
She was going to raise her hand and swear it now. It was either now or never. Draco ignored the pain in his leg and lunged towards her. He pinned her body down underneath his and held her hands down. She was shaking uncontrollably and there was nothing Draco could do about it except wait. He would not let her do this. She had to be strong for everyone's sake.
He did something then that he would question why he did it for the rest of his life. He got off of her and gathered her into his arms, allowing her to sob into his chest. He stiffened as she wrapped her arms around him and cried into his shirt. Draco could feel her salty tears on his chest. It almost made him feel sorry for her. Almost.
He brought his mouth down to her ear and whispered, "Stop." That only caused her to cry harder. He could never for his life understand where all these tears came from. They were fresh and bright, so much in contrast with the rest of the world. They could signify joy, happiness, anger, whatever you wanted them to be. He did not understand them. Never in his life had he cried. His mother told him that. She was a crier while growing up, that much he knew. She was dead now. His father on the other hand was no weakling, but he was dead as well. Why? He had cried for the first time in his life when his wife had died. Just one tear though. That's all it took to bring a powerful man down.
He could feel her fists grabbing a hold of his shirt and clenching it in her fists as she cried. He needed her to stop so he told her.
"Granger, I'm begging you, stop crying." It came out rather strangled. He wasn't sure why. "There are people who need you. They know," he began, "they know that you are the last one who can bring hope to the world. They seek solace in your very being and if you aren't there to give them that then we have no hope left. You think that you are one of the weak but you're wrong. You're still alive, aren't you?"
Hermione gazed up at him with tear stricken eyes. "He removed his arms from around her and grasped her face in his hands. He wiped away the tears and gave her the most sympathetic look he could. It was useless as the only thing he could muster was a look of boredom. He would never smile again.
"Please stop crying," he whispered, his voice leaving a chill down her spine. "It rips me apart to see you like this."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly. She looked at him calculatingly and took his hands off her face. "You're scared, aren't you?" It was more of a statement than a question. "I never thought I'd see the day that you were scared," she whispered, staring at him. "All you had to do was say so."
Draco gazed at her before saying, "I never want to see you cry again, mudblood."
Hermione tilted her head at him and said, "That word means nothing to me. I don't see why you still use it."
He stood up leaving her on the ground staring up at him. "I use it to remind me of how things could have been had this stupid war never been started in the first place. Think of it as a gift from me."
"Things will never be like that again," she muttered getting up. "It means nothing..."
"Oh it means something," he intoned. He drew up close to her and said, "Deep down, a part of you hates me for having the guts to call you that. You hate that I can still act as though nothing has happened. It's the Gryffindor in you. You can't help it and you sure can't stop it. Don't try and act like something you're not. You were chosen to be in that house for a reason. All of you," he sneered. "You stay brave for those who need you the most and the earth does not shatter. Don't change that now."
"What about me?" she demanded. She drew up towards him and looked him square in the eye. There was something about that question that made Draco want to shrink away from her. The question itself was nothing really. She was just being selfish by asking that. A part of him told him that she had a right to ask it but he waved it away. The look in her eyes scared him though. She was going to start crying again.
"What about you?" he asked coolly.
She looked at him disbelievingly and whispered, "You say that I'm only here because other people need me. But what about what I need?" She bit her lip and turned away. "Is it too much to ask for just one person to comfort me and hold me?"
Draco watched her back with a nonchalant expression on his face. "Granger…" he began pathetically. He sighed and looked down. There was nothing much to say to her apart from the things that she did not want to hear. It would break her to hear them but they were all already broken so it did not matter anyways. He broke out of his thoughts to see her standing in front of him, his cane in her hand. She had a defeated look on her face that did not go unnoticed as Draco took the cane from her.
Her eyes lingered on the cane for a moment before she turned away. She turned away and stared out at the lake. "We're all alone, you know." Draco did not reply. Hermione turned to look at him, a faraway look in her eyes. "Do you think anyone will miss us if we die?"
Draco stared at her curiously and replied quietly, "I don't want anyone to miss me."
A breeze blew past the two of them, causing her hair to blow about. She pushed it out of her face and said, "Will anyone care?"
He said nothing but watched her face. It was strange to see her like this. She wasn't crying anymore, but there was still something about her that seemed pathetic to him. Perhaps it was the fact that she had given up hope. It was written all over her face.
"I'm tired," she breathed quietly, a blank expression settling on her face. "I…I can't do this anymore." She looked down and pulled her wand out of her robes.
Draco snarled and knocked it out of her hand. His grey eyes glared at her while she looked away from him, hurt. He pulled her to him and shook her hard. As he shook her, her eyes closed and another stream of tears ran down her face.
"What the hell are you trying to do, mudblood? Don't you see?" he growled. Hermione kept her eyes closed as he spoke to her. "There is no easy way out for any of us."
"Why?" she yelled, snapping her eyes open to glare at him. "I'm sick and tired of this stupid war. I want- need to get away from this place!"
"But you can't!" yelled Draco, shaking her slightly. His gray eyes pierced hers forcefully. "Everyone needs you. Every mudblood, half-blood, and muggle on this planet needs you," he hissed. He pushed her away roughly and murmured, "I need you…"
Hermione stood where she was momentarily frozen. Her mind was roaring and she had no idea why. She gaped at him and asked, "What did you just say?"
Draco met her eyes and replied softly, "You heard me the first time."
She marched up to him and slapped him soundly. Draco did not flinch though. He did not show any emotion on his face. He stared at her calmly as the red imprint of her hand appeared on his face.
"Don't lie," she spat through clenched teeth. She jabbed him in the chest and said, "You are Draco Malfoy. You don't need anyone especially not me."
"On the contrary, dear girl." He shook his head and thought how ironic his situation was. Before the war, he could have lived in peace not caring that she might have been dead. He abhorred her very existence. Yet now, here he was admitting to the woman himself that he needed her to live for him. "Your presence affects me more than you realize. I wake up every day knowing that you are still here and that people who have had magic in their blood long before you even existed are dead. You have somehow managed to stay alive longer than those physically stronger than you and it makes me wonder." He watched for her reaction and was rather pleased to see that she was still gaping at him. He still had an enormous ego, which he couldn't help but boost from time to time.
"I look forward to each day that I'm still alive only because you are there to make it worthwhile." He stared at her passively and said, "It is so easy to rile you up yet you maintain a composed persona and I respect you for that. You see, you are the only person to whom I can truly say that I rely on. We are both alike."
"I'm nothing like you," she whispered, dropping her eyes. "Please, stop."
He moved towards her until his face was centimeters away from hers. "As much as it pains me to admit it, I need you. I suppose my word won't be enough to keep you from what you want to do, but just keep that in mind." With that, he lightly brushed his lips over her, shivering inwardly as his mouth tingled with electricity. He pulled away from her, resuming the cold indifferent look on his face.
Hermione looked back up at him with an expression that he could not identify. She let out a deep breath and said, "You want me to be strong for you?" He just looked at her and said nothing. "Can you be strong for me?"
He looked back at her stonily and replied, "I cannot promise you anything." But, Draco took her hand and kissed it, a powerful gesture that caused Hermione's eyes to widen. Their eyes their eyes locked with each other, silver and brown clashing in a moment so electrifying that not even they would be able to tell what happened in the years to come.
"That's good enough for me," she murmured, pulling her hand away from his. Her hair flew around her head in the breeze that followed her statement. She looked at him, her eyes hard once more.
Draco nodded with satisfaction and brought a hand up to wipe the tears off her face. She looked at him coldly as his hand touched her face but she did not do anything to stop it. She always felt like a child around him.
"The others will be waiting for you, Granger," he whispered. "Don't disappoint them." He kissed her hand once more and watched submissively as she strode away from him, her head held high in a manner that he did not find even remotely endearing. Draco watched as she stepped back into the Great Hall, her face emotionless as the hordes of witches and wizards surrounded her, deploring her to tell them what would happen to them all. He thought it was rather funny that the fate of the world rested in her hands now. Not that she would be able to do anything about it. But she always had something up her sleeve.
He found that rather amazing though. He would never tell her. Ever.