A/N: Hello again! I'm not exactly sure where this story is going anymore, so uh... have this
"Malfoy, let go!" Hermione shrieked.
With a harsh toss of her wrist, Draco finally did. He didn't turn to face her, however. Instead, he stood far away from her, refraining from eye contact.
"What the hell, Malfoy? The rumors are bad enough, but for you to just drag me out like that?!"
"Rumors, huh?" The pale boy muttered, turning to face Hermione. "Is that the lie you're trying to use?"
"What do you mean? You don't actually believe them, do you?" Hermione sputtered, bewildered. She watched his eyes shift slightly from grey to black.
"Goddamit, Granger! I should've know this was your little game. Some sick fucking trick to mess with my head, to get information for Potter," he shouted, causing ringing in Hermione's ears.
Mouth agape, she didn't know how to react. She almost laughed at her stupidity, realizing that Draco Malfoy had not changed.
"Is that what you think? That I would use you like that? Well, Malfoy, you better watch your fucking back. Because if I'm going to do something like that, I would have made it absolutely terrible."
Without another word, Hermione dashed off quickly, leaving Draco behind in a smoke. The pale boy stared mindlessly at the spot she once stood, before sighing.
At least he could concentrate on his task.
She told herself she wouldn't cry over a boy, especially Draco, but something ticked. Hermione sniffled slightly, before wiping away the few tears that managed to sneak out.
She made her way to the Gryffindor Common room, in an attempt to deal with Harry. Maybe this nightmare would be over soon. When she got the portrait open, she simply frowned at the somber boy sitting on the couch.
"Harry, please listen, I-"
Harry gave her a cold glance, his eyes piercing through her. She caught a chill, and shivered, before carefully sitting on the far end of the couch.
"Hermione, I've never questioned you. You always seemed to know what you were doing, so I let it. But this," he started, his voice sharp. "This is too much."
"Harry, he's not as terrible as you made him sound! He's warmer, and kinder, and-" Hermiome broke off, realizing he wouldn't be reasonable.
"Don't you understand!?" Harry roared. "Whatever act he puts on now means nothing. He's hiding the fact that he's a Death Eater!"
Hermione's lip began to tremble and she couldn't face his raging eyes. They shot through her like a bullet piercing through flesh.
"Harry, please. Please just understand," Hermione choked, her voice tearing at the seams.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, why didn't you tell me before all of this started? This wouldn't have blown up if you just came to me first."
"Because I was scared!" She shouted. "You were too busy with whatever Dumbledore's been telling you to do, and I knew exactly how you would react if I told you I liked Malfoy."
Harry looked at the shaking girl with a mildly shocked expression, and sighed.
"Make this useful. Get as much information as you can from him," Harry plainly stated, his voice remaining steady.
Hermione simply nodded, before getting up and leaving. "Sure," she squeaked painfully. She took a few strides to the door, before exiting and allowing it to slowly shut.
It took Hermione leaving and a solid three minutes after for Harry to realize how badly he fucked up. Maybe the stress was getting to him, because he finally processed the entire conversation. Maybe he felt betrayed that Hermione didn't tell him first. Whatever it was, he felt like shit.
Cussing loudly at himself, he rubbed his temples and stared at a wall, hoping that he could undo his words.
It had been a few weeks since Draco had last visited the Vanishing Cabinet. He hadn't made any progress, with him ending where he started.
It was a curious piece of magical hardware, damaged by a stupid ghost. If he wasn't forced to fix it, he would spend months studying it, as it truly was intriguing. He shot a few fixing charms at it without avail.
"Why didn't they just bring this to Borgin? He seemed to want to fix it," thought Draco. He punched the Cabinet, hoping that would suddenly spark a new idea, before slumping to the floor.
"I highly doubt punching it would cause it to work, Mr. Malfoy," Snape drawled.
Surprised, Draco immediately looked up, gripping his wand tightly. "Leave me alone."
"After that ordeal with Ms. Granger, that wouldn't be right," he said.
"I'm doing what you told me to! Its fucking hard, to do it from scratch!" Draco snapped. His eyes hardened at the teacher, and his face flushed.
"Didn't Borgin give you instructions?" Snape queried, ignoring the cusses.
Draco frowned, annoyed at how thick his skull could be. He would never understand what life was life for him, how he now had no freedom.
"That fucking piece of werewolf shit gives me the vaguest details on what to do! As far as I know, it needs a password that's been lost!" He screamed, before slouching against the Cabinet. He was so tired, so over the Death Eater craze. He wanted out. He wanted to be able to walk the halls without whispers. He closed his eyes momentarily, before Snape pulled him up aggressively.
"You will finish this project, or else the Dark Lord will kill you," he said, refusing to look at the boy.
"Yes sir." Draco's jaw locked.
Snape loosened his grip, watching the empty shell drop to the floor. "What's wrong with him? He never cares this much about a girl," Snape thought.
"Get to work. Now." A breeze from the flick of his robes hit Draco in the face, as Snape left the room.
Draco only noticed how wet his face was when he stood up to look at himself. His eyes were pink and puffed up with the silent crying, and he watched his mouth as it moved.
"Pathetic."
He examined the way his spit splattered on the cabinet, and saw how it absorbed into the wood. "If only Granger was here, she'd know what to do," he sighed. Glancing at the cabinet again, he gave up and left. Maybe next time, it would work.
It seemed as if suddenly, the only thing the entire school was talking about was Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Everywhere the pale boy went, whispers followed him. He would've been fine, if it was about his alleged alliance to Voldemort, but he caught the faintest whisper of "I bet Malfoy used her for her body", it took all of his strength to not punch the fourth-year.
Of course, then he would remember that he was conveniently sharing a dorm with Hermione, and he considered putting up with Theo's snoring and Blaise's... everything, but that would only last so long until he would behead them. As Draco approached the portrait, he figured that it might be easier to just avoid her.
Thankfully, Hermione was in her room, which allowed Draco to make himself a cup of coffee. Hesitantly, he also made her a cup of peach tea. Crookshanks curiously hopped onto the counter, curling around the warm cup.
Draco paused, then gently stroked the cat, putting his coffee cup down. "This is lame, isn't it?"
"Meow?" The ginger cat replied, looking at the Slytherin with glowing eyes.
"Yeah," Draco sighed. "I thought so too." The boy stopped patting the cat and picked up his cup, then made his way to his room. As he walked there, there was a knock on the portrait.
Ginny, Blaise, and Luna sat in a circle in the library, each of them looking at each other.
"Well? What now?" Blaise blurted, disturbing the concentrated peace between the trio. Ginny looked up from her book, and Luna cast a sideways glance at him from her knitting.
"I don't know Blaise. We could let them solve it themselves?" Ginny offered, shrugging.
"Draco's never gonna solve anything by himself. He's the type to use and burn," Blaise replied.
Luna pondered the problem for a minute. "Well, isn't the Hogsmeade weekend coming up soon? Maybe we can set something up then?"
Ginny and Blaise grinned, before exchanging a devious look. "Luna, you just gave us the best idea." Ginny got up, picking up her books and wand.
"We're going to set them up."
A/N: I'm so sorry, this is so short. I've been having major writing blocks so I kinda barfed this one up. I hope you still enjoy?
Sincerely, Dramione Productions