Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended.
Au/N: I had no idea you would like this as much as you did! It makes me happy. Song in this chapter is "On Fire" by Switchfoot. Read on.
Chapter Six. On Fire
Hermione Granger
I woke up for the second time to see Draco's face. He was fanning me gently, looking slightly worried. But as soon as he saw my eyes open, he straightened up and stared down at me coldly.
"Weak knees, huh?" he said, sounding disgusted. I was shocked; not very long ago he'd confessed to loving me. This was preposterous, how quickly he could turn his emotions on and off. I envied him.
"No!" I shouted, standing up much too fast and feeling dizzy. He offered me his hand to steady myself with, but I ignored it, and walked slowly to the door.
"Wait!" he said suddenly, rushing to my side. I stopped, sighing, and looked at him. He froze, shuffling his feet and staring at the carpet.
"Ugh!" I grunted, tired of his games. I threw open the door and left the room in a hurry, rushing down the stairs. Harry and Ron were in the den, eating cereal and watching some Lifetime movie. Ron quickly flipped it to pro wrestling when he saw me coming. But then, Malfoy came rushing after me. Ron and Harry's mouths dropped open as they put two and two together.
"Hermione…did you…all night? In…his room?" Ron asked, dumbfounded. Cereal spilled out of his mouth and onto my clean couch. Harry stared with wide eyes at Draco and me as we stood side by side, nervous and trying to explain. Then Malfoy had a cocky streak and blurted out something random that didn't help matters at all.
"We don't owe you any explanation, Potter. We'll do what we want, where we want, and for as long as we want. You have no say in it, so fuck off."
I wheeled around, my jaw on the floor, and smacked Malfoy as hard as I could across the face. He nearly fell over; he held his face tenderly, his jaw set. Apparently, I'd hit him on a bruise left over from last night. Oops, I thought.
I turned back to Harry and Ron, an angry expression on my face. They looked at me as though they didn't know me.
"Ron! Harry! You can't possible think I'd ever—ever—sleep with that piece of shit! How could you? What the hell! Don't you know me at all?" I said, my anger dissolving into bitter resentment. Tears spilled down my face. Harry's face fell. Malfoy tried to put his hand on my shoulder, but I shook him off. Ron looked terrified.
"Hermione…just tell us what happened! We won't judge you!" Harry promised. Malfoy grumbled beside me, but I elbowed him hard between the ribs. He moaned in pain as Ron laughed his bloody ass off.
"But you already have, Harry…" I observed sadly, crossing the room to the front door. "You already have." Without another word to any of them, I rushed out of the house, slamming the door behind me.
I decided I'd take a walk.
It was raining outside. It had been sunny just a few minutes ago, but I guessed the weather was magically linked to my mood. Without a coat or an umbrella, I walked on, the sidewalks becoming slippery. I loved walking in the rain, because passersby could not see the tumult of tears rushing down my face.
They tell you where you need to go
They tell you when you need to leave
They tell you what you need to know
They tell you who you need to be
Everything inside you knows
There's more than what you've heard
There's so much more than empty conversations
Filled with empty words
There was so much more to Malfoy than I'd thought. He was a complex individual with thoughts and feelings; he was not merely a thorn in my side, sent to kill and maim the masses, sent by Voldemort. He felt something for me…but I couldn't tell what. He was either telling the truth about loving me because he couldn't keep it to himself…or, he was lying…but for what reason, I could not begin to imagine.
It could've been any number of things, but somehow, I felt that he wasn't making it up. If he wanted to kill me, he would've done it already. He was a dark, twisted, son of a bitch, who'd been taught numerous things by Voldemort. We both knew he did not need a wand to cause anyone pain. Even with the curses protecting me from him, I knew that if he truly wanted to end my life, he could find a way.
And if he wanted me dead, why hadn't he killed me the same night he'd killed my parents? It just didn't add up, and so, I dismissed the possibility.
But I didn't rule out the option that he wanted something from me. But maybe…I wanted something from him too.
I couldn't deny that I felt different around him. With Ron, I'd always felt shy and nervous and happy. With Malfoy, I felt desirous, lustful, and my whole body ached for him. I could not, would not call it love. It was simply impossible. Extreme likeness of, a strong affection for, magnetic attraction to, or anything other than love was responsible.
I froze on the sidewalk, my arms wrapped tightly around me, the icy rain pouring down on me. I was freezing, but I barely noticed. I was too busy trying to convince myself that what I was thinking was completely unfeasible.
"I, Hermione Granger, do not love Draco Malfoy. No. It's preposterous!" I said out loud, to convince myself further. Smiling, I nodded my head and trudged on.
And you're on fire when he's near you
You're on fire when he speaks
You're on fire burning at these mysteries
Give me one more time around
Give me one more chance to see
Give me everything you are
Give me one more chance to be near you…
Finally, out of breath, I found a bench partway underneath a tree to sit on. The rain was pouring down even harder, and the harsh slap of it against my face began to sting. I was about to freeze to death, and the material of my jeans against my thighs was beginning to cause chafing. But I would not go back until I'd cleared my head. I was determined.
Not two minutes went by before Draco Malfoy appeared, huffing and shivering, holding an umbrella over his head.
"Hermione! Are you insane? You'll get pneumonia! 'Brightest witch of her age' my ass!" he grumbled, casting the umbrella's protection over my head.
I slid down along the bench, getting out from under the umbrella. This seemed to piss him off. I smiled. Good.
He scoffed at my motion and shifted his weight to his other hip. He glared down at me as the rain became heavier and heavier. I thought I'd drown soon.
"What is your problem? What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded. "First of all, you just storm out of the house, leaving me to feel like a complete bastard for opening myself up to you…and then you bitch at Harry…which I rather admire…and I come to find you out here, sitting in the pouring rain, like some…" he struggled to find the word, "woman!"
"Oh, I'm so glad you noticed!" I exclaimed sarcastically. He stared, bewildered, at me.
"Hard not to notice when your shirt is soaking wet and you're freezing," he observed happily, staring down at my chest. I knew instantly what he was talking about, so I drew my hands up, embarrassed, to cover myself. He blinked and looked back up at me.
"Please…go away," I begged. I sounded pathetic. His face softened considerably and he only looked at me. Finally, to my surprise, he sat down on the bench next to me, closed his umbrella, and let the rain pour down on his face. "What…are you doing?" I gasped. He closed his eyes and tilted back his head; the rain slid down his face beautifully. He didn't look like he was breathing.
He moved his arm up behind me, where it came to rest along the back of the bench. With his other hand, he pointed to the crook of his neck.
I cocked my head, though I knew he wasn't looking, and raised an eyebrow.
"Don't worry, 'Mione. I won't bite…" he promised softly. I thought a moment, but I really was cold and knew he was warm. I decided it wouldn't hurt and cautiously lowered my head against his neck. Within seconds, I felt his arm slip around me, pulling me closer to him. He was warm. Very warm. I closed my eyes and sighed.
Everything inside me looks like everything I hate
You are the hope I have for change
You are the only chance I'll take
And I'm on fire when you're near me
I'm on fire when you speak
I'm on fire burning at these mysteries
We stayed that way until the rain stopped. It was peaceful, quiet, and…nice. I was uncomfortable at first, leaning on Draco, but after a while, I didn't mind so much. I actually found myself liking it. I knew I'd have a very bad cold, and I probably would feel incredibly stupid for sitting on a bench during the middle of a downpour, but having Draco there seemed to take all the silliness of it away. As soon as the last droplet of rain splashed against my cheek, Draco stood up and scooped me into his arms. I rested my head against his chest, extremely tired. I looked back at the bench for a fraction of a second, almost sad to leave it.
Lying alone on the seat of the bench was Draco's small, black umbrella. No one else was on the street; no other sounds surrounded me except the drumming of Draco's heartbeat and his footsteps on the wet pavement. I looked at the umbrella, alone on the bench, cast away and soon to be forgotten, and thought it stood for much, much more than a way to get out of the rain.
Not only had we left an umbrella, but we'd left all our hatred with it.
I'm standing on the edge of me
I'm standing at the edge of everything I've ever been before
And I've been standing at the edge of me
Standing at the edge
End Chapter
Aw! Don't you just love symbolism? Next chapter will not be mushy. Leave me a review if this didn't make you want to run over old ladies or stuff feathers up your nose. Thank you!