I Own Nothing
"She and Weasley looked pretty cozy…"
Fair eyes met obsidian ones with a hostile expression attached as the pale boy rose from his chair. The room was dark, save for the flames in the fireplace, as he refilled his glass. His best friend was comfortably seated in the chair beside the one he had just risen from, his dark eyes watching his friend with an expectant gaze. The fair haired boy welcomed the familiar burn that traveled down his throat as he turned his glass up. The expensive dish, however, didn't fare well as he slammed it down onto the table with just a tad too much force than necessary. He took no mind to the blood that began to pool in and run down his hand. Draco Malfoy was not happy.
That was probably a very broad statement seeing as Draco was hardly ever happy. If he was happy, then someone else was extremely unhappy…or dead. He sank back into his chair, running his clean fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. He needed a haircut. He shook his head as his best friend referred to that poor excuse for a wedding.
"I'm not worried about the weasel, Blaise. I'm worried about the boy-who-just-won't-fucking-die having his hands all over her!"
That last part came out almost sounding like a hiss, forcing the darker young man's lips to curve upward. Draco ran his hands down his face, slowly exhaling. Horcrux hunting… They were searching for the bloody Horcruxes. He didn't question how Blaise had found this out although he had his suspicions. He only cared about the fact that she was going to be off the grid, probably cooped up in some small room, and with him for Merlin knows how long.
"Well, it's not like you can do anything about it. Unless…"
His friend trailed off with a perfectly arched eyebrow and Draco shook his head at what he was suggesting.
"No. I know that she'll make her way back to me, one way or another," he replied.
"You just…know this," Blaise slowly questioned.
Draco stood again and straightened out his shirt. He turned to look at his friend with an expression completely free of worry.
"Everything always works out in my favor. Wouldn't you agree?"
The corner of Blaise's lips turned up as he nodded. He had to admit that no matter what, things always seemed to tip in Draco's favor. With Lucius gone and Dumbledore dead, Draco had glided up through the ranks, into a position that rivaled his demented aunt's. Blaise was more than happy to just sit back and watch.
"Why did you do it," she quietly asked him as she stared him down.
She frowned, turning over on her side. The tent was getting stuffy, she could feel it, even in her sleep.
"I didn't trust Dumbledore nor the order to give me what I want," he said.
"You could have trusted me," she replied as a light wind blew by, reminding her of the weather.
She exhaled, before turning over again to lie on her back. She was burning up.
"I want you," he whispered.
Hermione felt her heartbeat speed up to a dangerous pace. She was suffocating.
"That's all I've ever wanted. Everything that I've done, I did so that I could keep you," he murmured against her lips.
She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe!
I think that you are in love with this monster.
I think that you are in love with this monster.
I think that you are in love with this monster.
Hermione sat up in her small bed with a panicked gasp. She had barely opened her mouth before a pair of strong arms wound themselves around her. She buried her head into his chest, taking in the familiar scent. The events of that night, months ago, repeatedly played in her head. She couldn't have peace for more than fifteen minutes, not even in her sleep. She forced herself to take deep breaths as she was rocked back and forth.
"It was just a dream. Whatever it was, it wasn't real…"
But it was real and every single night she had to relive it again and again. She and Draco were so far away from each other, yet he still continued to haunt her. He really was the devil.
"Get her some water."
She pulled away as Ron's footsteps grew light as he went to do just that.
"That's really not necessary, Harry," she whispered guiltily.
Ron still wasn't completely healed. He looked at her through tired eyes. Months of searching for Horcruxes had aged him. It had aged all of them and her nightly terrors had not helped. Harry sighed before taking her hand.
"Are you ever going to tell me what happened that night," he asked for the umpteenth time.
"I told you, nothing," she lied with a shrug.
"Stop…stop lying to us. Something happened. We can see it," he snapped.
"Please, Harry. Please, drop it," she pleaded.
He sighed before pulling away, just as Ron reappeared with her water. She took a few sips before murmuring a quiet 'thank you.'
"Are you sure that you're okay," Ron asked.
Hermione nodded.
"I'm fine," she breathed as she sank back under the covers.
She heard Harry sigh again before walking away, Ron close behind.
Later that night, when she could do nothing but stare at the inside of the tent, she heard them talking…about her.
"You don't…you don't think he did something to her, do you? You know, like…," she heard Ron trail off, choking on his own words.
Hermione shut her eyes, the silence deafening.
"I don't know, Ron. I don't know. She won't tell me…anything," Harry hissed.
She heard him hit something, the sound of his footsteps could be heard soon after. He was pacing. It seemed like he was always pacing these days.
"Gods, Ron, when we found her in Knockturn Alley that night…it was like- like she had seen You-Know-Who himself. She was so pale and she wasn't responding to anything. I didn't know what to think, but I didn't pry. I never pushed her because I figured she would tell me in her own time. I thought that it would take weeks at the most, but not…not months."
Hermione squeezed her eyes tighter, aching at what she was doing to her friends. They thought that Draco had done something to her, had hurt her in some way, but they couldn't be more wrong. Little did they know that Draco had done nothing to her except force the truth down her throat. He had forced her to see what her heart had known all along, it just took a minute for her head to catch up. She didn't know how to handle this and she couldn't tell them. There was no way they'd understand. Hell, she didn't even understand! She winced at the thought of what they would think of her if they ever found out.
Traitor. Whore…a Death Eater's whore. That's what they would call her as they looked at her with nothing but scorn…and pity. It would be nothing short of what she deserved. How had she allowed such a sadistic and malevolent being to take up residence inside her heart? Her shoulders shuddered as she held back sobs and with troubling thoughts like these, she finally drifted off into sleep.
Draco watched in complete disinterest as the doors opened, allowing the Triwizard champions to make their grand entrance. Note the sarcasm. Just the thought of Potter, of all people, a Triwizard champion made his blood boil. He was too young! Saint Potter had broken a major rule and here he was getting praised for it. Draco scoffed. If he were being honest, he had to admit that he was a tad miffed that he hadn't thought of paying one of the older students to enter his name. He could win this tournament, no doubt about it. He glanced down at hearing his date let out a small gasp as she tightened her hand around his arm.
He followed Pansy's blazing line of sight and found himself frowning in confusion. He noticed that all around him people were murmuring and 'oohing' and 'aahing' more than expected. He saw nothing out of the ordinary though. Fleur was walking in with her date for the Yule Ball, Roger Davies; he was a rather average looking fellow, Draco noted. He wasn't exactly sure why she said yes to him. To each their own, he guessed. Behind them were Viktor Krum and… Draco tilted his head to the side, not recognizing Krum's date. He found himself taking a step forward to get a closer look.
She was a petite witch, with honey brown hair piled up in a knot with stray curls resting on her shoulder. Her dress was floaty and blue, perhaps periwinkle. He noted that the dress not only complimented her skin, but her figure as well. And what a lovely figure it is, he thought with a small smirk. He could definitely see why Pansy was so bothered. His brows furrowed further as he heard the name Granger being thrown around the air. Granger? No, absolutely not… She had to be one of the Beauxbatons girls.
He took another step forward, ignoring Pansy's tight grip on his arm as he did so. His eyes raked over her figure once more before finally settling on her face. His heart seemed to have skipped a beat inside of his chest. Merlin… It was Granger! He stood frozen as a myriad of emotions coursed through him at once before he even had time to process it. He was in awe that the mudblood could clean up so nice and even more shocked that she had somehow swindled Viktor Krum into asking her to the Yule Ball. Then he found himself confused by the surprising amount of attraction he felt for the Gryffindor as he watched her dance. Disgust flowed through his veins for feeling such attraction in the first place.
The more he and Pansy danced, the more he watched her and the more he watched her the angrier he felt himself getting. Pansy going on and on about the mudblood was not helping in the slightest. 'How could she afford such a dress' this and 'why did he come with her' that. He was surprised that he hadn't gnawed his teeth to the gums with how much he was clenching and grinding them. He didn't understand why he was so angry. He just knew that he really wanted to bludgeon Krum as he continued to put his hands all over her. His eyes narrowed as Krum spun her around and around, prompting a laugh from the Gryffindor. He looked away in disgust. How Krum could sully himself with such filth was beyond Draco.
He had always thought that she and the weasel were a thing; guess he was wrong. What a slut, he found himself thinking even though deep down he knew that Granger was probably the most frigid broad to walk the halls of Hogwarts. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? She was nothing more than a mudblood playing dress up for a night, made up to look like royalty when she was nothing more than filth. Even as he thought this, he could tell that his heart wasn't in it. He found his hands tightening along with…other things as he gazed at her again.
She hadn't looked in his direction once! Did she think herself above him now, just because she'd gotten all dressed up and didn't look like a sodding yeti anymore? His eyes widened as he watched her go off with Krum. Just where the hell were they going? An inexplicable emotion bubbled up inside of him as he imagined Krum's lips on hers, his hands never staying in one place too long. His eyes narrowed as he pictured her on her back with Krum above her, her once kempt hair a mess of unruly frizz. He clenched his jaw and exhaled, closing his eyes as he did so.
"Ow!"
He looked down just in time to see Pansy snatching her hands out of his, shaking them out as she did so. He hadn't realized that he'd been holding her so tight. He ignored the confusion filled glare she threw at him. The rest of the night was filled with Pansy yapping in his ear and he not paying her an ounce of attention. Even seeing Granger arguing with the blood traitor did nothing to quench his anger. Why were they arguing? Were they together after all and she had cheated on him with Krum? Had the weasel caught her in a compromising position? Or was her sidekick simply jealous of the attention the know-it-all was receiving? And where was Krum? Had he simply ditched her after getting what he wanted?
Thoughts like these continued to plague his mind long after many students had left the dance floor. That wave of anger still resided inside of him, eating him from the inside out. He didn't understand it, not one bit. Even later that night, when Pansy was writhing and moaning beneath him, he could think of nothing but curls and a periwinkle dress. It took every ounce of strength he possessed to not call out her name. It wasn't until late in the night, when Pansy was completely unconscious in a deep sleep, did he come to a realization.
He sat up in bed, angered all over again as he realized that he was jealous. He shook his head as if trying to shake the thought from his mind. He, Draco Malfoy, the boy who had everything, was jealous. It would make sense that he couldn't place it at first because he was never jealous. He had never felt this emotion before. He had everything he could ever want! Until now… He wanted the mudblood; he wanted Granger in his bed. He was sure that this was just a one-time thing. He just needed to get her out of his system and everything would go back to normal. This was Granger though and he would have better luck bedding Blaise before the know-it-all. No, she would never go for it… For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy wanted something that he could not have…and he didn't like it at all.
...
Draco exhaled as he sat on the balcony, one leg dangling over while the other was bent, his arm resting on it. He stared out into the night as he recalled that night at the Yule Ball; the night everything he knew had come crashing down. He could still remember the way his emotions jumped from one to the other as if he were hopped up on drugs. He smirked as he thought that he had gotten his first glance at a drug he was all too eager to try. From that moment on he had done any and everything he could to get her attention. And now…
She was the one craving for him; serves her right. She had had him acting like some inexperienced twelve year old strung out on drugs for years and she didn't even know it. The tables were turned now and Draco enjoyed it immensely. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was not being in control. Draco found himself smirking as he heard a rather loud moan coming from the closed balcony window next to his. The walls of the Zabini Mansion weren't as thick as those in Malfoy Manor and it certainly sounded like Blaise was enjoying himself. At least someone was.
"In due time," Draco murmured to himself.
"He's just worried, you know," Ron mumbled.
She sighed and looked ahead of them at Harry's rigid back. He was walking ahead of them, said he wanted to be alone. He had been doing that a lot lately. She weighed Ron's words inside of her head. She didn't need him to tell her that; she knew he was worried. They were all worried.
"I know that," she said.
"You know what I mean, Hermione."
She was quiet for a while because she did know what he meant; Harry was worried about her. Night after night she would hear the two of them talk while she was asleep. Their conversations always started out different, but always ended on the same topic; her. Part of her wanted to talk to them and spill everything, but another part of her was so scared. She figured if she didn't say it aloud then it wouldn't be true.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what you want me to say…," she said.
"How about the truth."
Hermione shook her head with a sigh. She wished that it was that easy.
"It's not that simple, Ron-"
"Yes, it is. You repeatedly claim that he didn't do anything to hurt you, so why can't you tell us," he asked.
"Because I just don't want to," she snapped.
"You can't avoid talking about something just because it makes you uncomfortable, Hermione," Ron said.
She looked at him in disbelief.
"Well, that's certainly rich coming from you," she responded.
Ron suddenly stopped walking, causing her to do the same. He looked at her with a frown.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You haven't mention Ginny once since we left. You try to act as if it isn't this giant elephant sitting right smack in the middle of the room."
Ron clenched his jaw as he glared at her.
"That's different. Talking about Ginny is uncomfortable for all of us-"
"And I suppose that talking about Draco isn't? Have you even thought about how it makes me feel every time you bring him up? No, you didn't. You only think about yourself!"
"I'm just trying to help…"
"No, you're being a nosy bugger. Not once did you consider my feelings every time you brought him up. I'm already stressed enough without thinking about him. Merlin, Ron you can be such a prick sometimes!"
She jumped as she felt something brush against her arm. She looked at Harry just as he fingered the locket around her neck. She hadn't even heard him come up.
"Take it off," he whispered.
Hermione blinked, hesitating, before slowly reaching for the damn thing and pulling it over her head. She exhaled as the pressure in her chest went away, her shoulders sagging with released tension. She had forgotten about the stupid thing. Harry gently took it from her hands before pulling it over his own head. Hermione sighed before looking at Ron.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"It's fine. You were right. I didn't think about how it would make you feel, bringing him up like that," he responded.
He and Harry shared a look before Ron began to walk ahead of them. Harry put his hand on the small of her back as they slowly followed Ron. Hermione subtly pulled away from him as she rubbed her temple.
"I hadn't realized that I had been wearing it for so long," she sighed.
"I understand that you want to take some of the burden off of Ron and I, but you can't keep wearing it like that. You've seen what it does…," Harry quietly trailed off, looking away.
Hermione guessed that he was thinking of the incident from last week because that was where her mind had immediately headed. She absentmindedly rubbed her wrist as she thought about it. She had just had a particularly frightening nightmare and believed that both Ron and Harry were outside…
...
She jerked awake, vision clouded and heart racing, before sitting up and swinging her head around. It took her a minute for her to realize where she was. The tent was empty, but the boys had left a lamp on. She let out a sigh before dropping her head into her hands. She had dreamt about that night at Hogwarts again, the night their lives as they knew them, ended. It had felt so…real. Merlin, she could still feel his hands all over her and she was sure that if she took a deep breath, she could still smell him. She wiped at her eyes, feeling that familiar sting behind her eyelids. Draco Malfoy was haunting her and it seemed that there was nothing she could do about it.
"Why do you cry over him?"
She jumped and let out a small sound of surprise. She turned her head to see Harry emerge from the shadows. She sighed in relief and let out a small chuckle.
"Merlin, Harry, don't do that," she breathed.
"You didn't answer my question," he firmly stated.
She shook her head, frowning, and thinking.
"Wha…I'm not crying over anyone," she lied.
Harry walked towards her, a frown on his face.
"I heard you say his name in your sleep, Hermione. Don't lie to me."
She swung her legs, her feet touching the floor. She sighed as she thought back to the nightmare: the stairs, his hands, and the knife. She rubbed her head; it was like she had taken that tumble down the stairs all over again. She shook her head.
"It was just a bad dream, Harry," she quietly responded.
"A bad dream or a really good one," he questioned, accusations in his tone of voice.
She looked at him in confusion before standing. She stared at him for a long time, trying to pinpoint what was going on because something was definitely off. She glanced around.
"A bad one. Where's Ron," she asked, feeling extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden.
She wrapped her arms around herself as he closed in on her.
"He's outside. Why do you continue to let him plague your thoughts?"
She glared up at him. She really didn't want to talk about this.
"It's not like I do it on purpose," she snapped.
"Maybe you just need a distraction," he whispered.
"Harry," she protested as he brushed her hair away from her face.
"You know how I feel about you, Hermione. He's out of the picture now," he hinted.
No, he isn't, was what she wanted to say. Draco was so far into the picture that he was all she could see. What was she supposed to say, though? We can't be together now because I realized that I may or may not have incredibly strong feelings for someone I fear more than You-Know-Who himself? She mentally shook her head. What a contradicting statement. She didn't see that going over so well, but Harry may have had a point. She had to get him out of her head. She just wasn't sure that this was the way to do it. However, she didn't have time to voice any of this because Harry's lips had claimed her own.
Her eyes widened in shock and she put her hand on his chest, pulling away, but his lips simply chased. She gasped as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer. She couldn't do this; it felt so…wrong. She pulled away again.
"Harry, I can't-"
"And why not," he demanded.
"I don't have to explain myself to you," she snapped.
She shook her head at him with a sigh. Sometimes she wished that what she felt for Harry was as strong as what he felt for her. It would be so much easier if she could love him instead, but that wasn't the case. She walked past him, going to find Ron when he reached out and grabbed her wrist. She spun around to ask what was wrong with him when he yanked her towards him. Her hands pressed against him to steady herself when she felt something that she hadn't earlier. The locket was dangling around his neck, resting beneath his shirt. She leaned away from him as she thought. How long had he been wearing it? She hadn't worn it in what felt like forever and she didn't remember seeing Ron with it on recently either. She blinked and let out a gasp.
"Harry, take this off," she demanded.
She made the mistake of looking up at him.
"Harry," she hissed against his lips.
"I love you, Hermione," he whispered as he tangled his fingers in her hair.
She hissed in pain as he tightly gripped her wrist when she reached for the cursed necklace.
"Harry, stop. Listen to me-"
She let out a gasp as her back connected with her small bed. She fought against him as his lips connected with the skin of her neck. She forced herself to not panic. This wasn't Harry; he was acting like this because of the locket. She had to get it off of him…and fast. She jerked against him as he bit down on her skin.
"Harry-"
"Isn't this what you like? Isn't this what he would have done," he whispered
"Harry, please…"
He pulled back to look at her. The look in his eyes terrified her and she began to fear that she would not be able to get the necklace off in time. She twisted her arm, but he held on with a vengeance. She could almost feel herself bruising.
"I can help you forget about him, Hermione. Isn't that what you want?"
"Not like this…"
She and Harry stared at each other for what seemed like a long time, her eyes pleading with him, before he began reaching for her shirt.
"Harry, stop this, now," she forcefully whispered as she fought against his hands.
She squirmed as he settled himself in between her legs, the feel of him pressing against her forcing her hair to raise on end. She shoved against his chest as he began to tug at her pants eliciting a slap from her. As his head was turned she used the opportunity to grab the locket. She gasped in pain as he yanked on her hair, his other hand holding her wrist in an iron grip. Despite the pain, she managed to jerk upwards on the chain, yanking it up to his chin. She struggled as her head was yanked back even farther. She suddenly kneed him in the gut, but he took her down with him.
The wind was knocked out of her as she landed on top of him. She didn't loosen her grip on the locket even as he sat up, forcing her back to dig into the side of the bed. The palm of her hand was pressed into his face as she again tried to yank it off. They were a tangled mess of limbs as Harry persisted in trying to get her onto her back and her in trying to get the locket off. Luck was on her side as she was able to bring her foot up and kick him in his gut.
She sighed in relief as she threw it to the other side of the tent as Harry leaned over, clutching his stomach. Her breath came out very shallow and choppy as she scooted away from him. She looked at the dark hair of her best friend with cautious eyes.
"Harry…"
He didn't say anything, not a word. She reached for him, but retracted her hand, changing her mind. She wanted to say that it was okay because she knew that it was the locket's influence. She knew that it in his right mind, her best friend would never do such a thing. It wasn't okay, though; Harry had scared her. She reached out again as she noticed his shoulders trembling. However, as soon as her fingers touched his shoulder, he fled the tent.
...
Neither one of them had mentioned it again, not to each other nor to Ron. The two of them did make sure to keep the locket in an even rotation after that though.
"Yeah…I know," she finally said.
"Hermione," he quietly began.
She turned to look at him.
"You don't have to say anything. I…I know and I forgive you," she said.
"No, I have to say it. I'm sorry. Merlin, you have no idea how sorry I am. I just…I don't want you to be afraid of me-"
"I'm not," she interrupted, too quickly.
His jaw clenched as he gazed at her.
"Yes, you are. I can see it. I just don't want you to see him whenever you look at me. I want you to see me, your best friend, and know that I would never do anything to hurt you."
"I know that, Harry. It's just…," she looked out into the trees "…I know how you feel about me and I- I can't give you what you want. Okay? I just can't-"
"Why not-"
"Because I just can't!"
Harry stared at her for what felt like a long time.
"It's him, isn't it," he demanded as he took a step towards her.
"No-"
"Yes, it is-"
She took a step away from him as he tilted his head down to stare into her eyes.
"What happened that night, Hermione?"
"Why do you do this? You keep pushing and pushing! What is this obsession that you have with anything Draco related? Anytime a discussion involves him I see it in your eyes. They light up and you get this crazed look. You turn into a dog with a bone," she snapped.
"It's not an obsession that I have with him it's an obsession that I have-"
He cut himself off with a huff before stepping towards her.
"Something happened that night between you and him. I know it. We don't keep things from each other, Hermione. That's not what we do," he harshly whispered.
"I'm not your daughter or your sister or your girlfriend. I'm allowed to have secrets! If I don't want to share something with you then you should respect my privacy," she snapped, looking away.
She sharply inhaled as Harry's fingers abruptly found her chin, forcing her to look at him. She could hear Ron walking towards them.
"Not when it could put everyone in danger," he hissed.
"Mate," she heard Ron whisper in warning.
She slapped his hand away and jerked away from him, feeling as if she'd just been electrocuted. She could feel an unfamiliar emotion brewing just below the surface.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean," she whispered even though she knew exactly what he was hinting at.
"You tell me," he demanded.
She could feel that familiar sting behind her eyes. She pushed Ron's hand away as he reached for her. Her attention was on nothing but Harry.
"You think we hooked up that night or something? You think he has some magical dragon in his pants that can turn me into a traitor within a span of thirty minutes? Is that what you think, that I'm somehow feeding them secrets and that I'm trying to plan my happily ever after with him?"
Harry's silence was all she needed. She didn't even bother to wipe the tears away as they fell.
"You really think I would do that to you, to all of you. Is that what you think," she demanded, turning to face Ron.
"No! No, of course not. Look…Harry- Harry didn't mean that-"
"Yes, he did," she sadly replied.
She turned to glare at her raven haired friend.
"He meant every single word," she said in disgust, brushing past Ron.
I apologize to all you Harry lovers, but it's necessary. On the other hand I really wanted to give a glimpse as to how this whole thing started and I know that the Yule Ball is such a cliche, but sue me. Speaking of, I decided to go with the book version of Hermione's dress simply because I prefer it over the pink. As for this split POV, I don't like it but it's only temporary until they're reunited. As for all of you asking about Ginny...in due time.
Don't forget to review!