Disclaimer: Well okay you see I have it on my list for Christmas so I want it for Christmas. That is what all you nice readers can get me.
A/N: Okay well C wins, but I don't think I will be doing a kiss. Sorry to disappoint you, but that is just too cliche. I know they have to kiss sometime, but I just want the kiss to be way different from other stories. Any ideas? Well next chapter you will be very very happy.
Without a Home: Chapter 11
Hermione woke up on a bed of green silk. She sat up slowly and stretched. Where was she now? How did she ever get here? Yawning and rubbing her eyes she looked around the room. It was much bigger than her room and it was silver and green. Slytherin colors. I am in a Slytherin's room. The bed was much bigger and had fancier bedding. I must be in Draco's room, but I don't know how I got here.
'Oh god he didn't do anything to me did he?' She thought panicking.
She looked under the covers to find that she still had all of her clothes on. Except for her shoes which she noticed were lying neatly by the bed. She didn't really feel any pain or anything. Still what if something had happened?
Hermione told herself to calm down and stop panicking. She could handle the situation calmly and rationally. Okay what was the last thing you remember? C'mon Hermione you can do this. Let's see I went on a walk into the garden. Then I left the garden and wandered into a grave yard. Draco scared me and we started an argument. I wonder what got into him. Was he angry for me being near his deceased family? Does it bother him? Is he grieving for his parents?
There was still the question of how she got here. Did she faint while she was out there? She had felt tired before she had gone to the grave yard. She should have gone back to her room and slept a little. She didn't have as much energy as a normal person and she knew that. She knew that she was underweight. She avoided looking in the mirror because she didn't want to see herself.
She didn't want to see her hollow eyes. She feared that if she looked at them too much she would fall into those empty pools of brown. She would be sucked up into them like a black hole. She would fall forever like a bottomless pit.
She didn't want to see her sunken cheeks. She didn't want to see her ribs poking out. She didn't want to see herself looking so sickly. So gray. Her skin was turning an ashy gray color. She looked dead. Sometimes she felt dead. She was grateful to be here in a place with a roof, beds, and food. Yet she knew it would probably take awhile for her to get back to normal.
She was so thankful to Draco. He had saved her from a slow and painful death. The hunger had sometimes consumed her making her mad. She had eaten things before that weren't meant to be eaten. Yet trash never settled to well with her stomach. She always ended up sick in the morning when she woke up. Sometimes she vomited up whatever she ate, but hunger was a feeling she knew too well. A feeling that she felt a little odd without it.
She just wished that she wasn't so pathetic. She wished that things had never happened the way they happened. Sometimes she wished that she was never born. Wished she had never existed.
Hermione looked down at the sheets to see a pattern of droplets on it. She tilted her head in curiosity and confusion. How did that get there? She didn't remember droplets.
A shaking hand was slowly raised up to her cheek. Her cheek felt very wet against her fingertips. She realized that her cheeks were wet with tears. Her tears.
God she hated herself sometimes. Now she was crying to top everything off. She didn't want to cry. She hated crying she was just so sick of it. Sick and tired of it. She wanted to smile and laugh like she used to. Like she used to.
The thoughts of what used to be only made her cry harder. Hermione tilted her head back and sobbed. Would things ever be better? Would she be back to normal? No. She could have answered that one for herself. She was forgotten by everyone. No one cared for her anymore. She had no friends and no family that remembered her. Did anyone ever notice she was missing? Did anyone notice her absence at all? Was anyone missing being around her? Did anyone have any memories of her?
Was anyone crying for her?
Loud sobs echoed through the room. Her heart was aching with pain. No one even cared to mend it. It was all because no one had been there. No one had been there to comfort her when her world caved in. No one was holding her when happiness shattered like broken glass. When everything broke into a million pieces.
She was covering her eyes and sobbing. She didn't hear anyone enter the room. She felt someone pull her into their arms. She didn't look to see who it was. She didn't smile at the fact that someone cared. She just sobbed her heart out into their shoulder. She didn't care who it was.
It was quite awhile before a voice was heard in Hermione's ears. A gentle voice with so much care; so much compassion. It warmed Hermione's heart a little to hear it.
"Shhhhh Mia just cry it out. Just let it all out," Draco's voice whispered in her ear.
"Wh-why are y.. you here an… and why do you care?" Hermione sobbed.
There was a pause before Draco answered, "Well to be honest Mia. I don't know why I care or why I am here. I just know I am here and that I do care."
It touched her that he was honest about it and didn't try to make up something fake that would cheer her up. He didn't tell her that it was okay and he was sorry for whatever she was crying about. No he told her to let it all out. Which is what she needed. Which she was going to do.
Hermione sniffled and wiped away her tears and tried to control her crying so she could talk, but she wasn't doing too well at stopping the tears from falling.
"It's it… It's just. You see (sniffle) I didn't… didn't always li… live on the streets. I used to have a home and so much more, but it all changed in a moment it all ch… changed," She began.
She pulled herself out of his arms and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked sadly down at the floor. She studied it the wood and the natural designs in the wood. She looked at it as she remembered what had happened that day and later that night. She looked at the floor as she told the story. Told him her story the story about "it".