CHAPTER TWO: Momentary Mudblood
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Hermione was sitting on the floor of their compartment, knees drawn up and her back against the seat. She stared up at the window blankly, watching the rain hit the glass and cascade down the little rivers made by their forefathers. Draco watched her from across the compartment. He couldn't help it; she was intoxicating. She looked so lonely, so lost and out of place... like a small child alone in a big room; something was missing. Hermione knew he was staring, but she paid him no notice. If he wanted to stare, more power to him. No one else would be staring anytime soon, she might as well savor the flavor of attraction.
This thought caused her mind do race again. She rebirthed her thoughts of Harry and Ron, and all the other Gryffindors, and traced back on her previous conversations with Draco. The talk of suicide had really made her feel better, but it was short lived. Speaking so seriously about such a simple form of release was refreshing... but realizing she could never do it made her even more depressed. She let her feet slide away from her a bit, then began rocking back and forth, eyes still on the window. Draco continued to watch her; now so with even more interest.
"Something wrong, Hermione?" he asked, hoping to see her smile, or turn away from the window, but Hermione remained silent and rocking as if he hadn't said a word. "Hermione?" Draco repeated, sounding a little bit concerned now. He had been thinking this whole time; mostly about Hermione. It was mind boggling for Draco as he realized how just the simple agreement for an unorthodox friendship brought forth such feelings in him for her. But, continuing to ponder the matter, he decided that it wasn't really that strange. She was his only chance at pleasant human contact for a while, and he was determined to make the best of it; even if she was Mudblood Granger.
But she wasn't Mudblood Granger. Or at least not the same Mudblood Granger. This girl was different. Sad, lonely, and in desperate need of his friendship; that wasn't the goody-two-shoes prefect who had contradicted each of his insults for the past seven years. And this girl was gorgeous; definitely unlike the bossy Mudblood.
"Granger, honestly. How can I be your friend if you won't tell me what's wrong?" he asked coyly, smirking at his ingenious. That should get an answer out of her.
"I want to write," she said quietly, then stopped rocking for long enough to pull her sleeves over her hands and ball the extra fabric into her fists.
"Then why don't you?"
"I can't. Not with you here," she said and shook her head, sounding almost exactly like she had when he had first entered the compartment.
"Why not, it's not like I'm going to read over your shoulder or anything. And since when do you care what other people think?" he asked, leaning back and swinging his legs up and onto the seat. Hermione, who had resumed her rocking, stopped again and spookily turned her head toward Draco.
"You know what, you're right," she said and, exceptionally quickly compared to her movements for the duration of the train ride, reached for her bag, bringing down beside her and opening the clasp.
"Of course I'm right," Draco said as he watched her pull a black notebook, quill, and ink pot from her knapsack. She twisted the vile open and dipped in the quill, then opened her book and found the correct page. She began writing, the ink a bright red, which dulled to a dusty brown as it dried. A strange and coppery smell filled the boxcar and Draco looked on with interest. "What's that you're writing with?" he asked and Hermione immediately pulled the notebook to her chest.
"You said you wouldn't read," she said fiercely, her eyes burning. Draco shook his head calmly.
"Not reading, just looking. So, what is it? Not ink, I presume."
"Of course not; it's blood, what else would it be?" she said as if it were as normal as sour cream on a baked potato. Draco shut up at that comment, simply staring as she lowered the book once again and brought her knees in closer, bringing the tiny writing away from his view. He said nothing for the remainder of her writing time; simply watched as she furiously scribbled and quickly turned each page.
After about forty-five minutes, Hermione slowly closed the notebook and sighed in relief as she placed it next to her on the floor. She moved her legs into a crossed position and pulled her bag close again. Still, she was aware of Draco's eyes, but did nothing. It was almost nice to feel his gaze, which wasn't harsh or penetrating, but warm and curious, as if he were observing a cute little lab rat. Hermione brought the still open vial to rest on the floor in front of her, then pulled from the front pocket of her bag a tiny yellow tube. She separated the two pieces of the minute cylinder to reveal a shiny thread ripper from her mother's sewing kit. At the sight of the blade, Draco looked harder; a little worried about what she planned to do with it. Hermione still wore an emotionless expression on her face as she brought the sharp point down on the inside of her index finger and began to move it toward the tip, leaving a trail of bright red blood behind. Draco's eyes widened and he sat up.
"What are you doing?" he asked impatiently, staring at her bleeding finger, which had now been placed over the vile, the dripping blood adding to its contents.
"Hm," Hermione said, tilting her head and placing her uncut index finger to her chin. "If I were to guess, I would say that I was bleeding into a vile... but you never know; looks can be deceiving."
"Well I figured that much out, Granger; let me rephrase my question. Why the hell did you just slice yourself open?"
"Honestly, Draco, I need write, and to write, I need ink. I'm planning ahead by doing it now; using those Granger smarts I'm so widely known for... if I bleed a little after each time I write, I won't run out and have to bleed a whole lot in one sitting, but I still have ink for emergencies in which no blades are present. Where did you think I got the blood? A helpless victim? A murdered animal, perhaps? Or maybe just the apothecary? Only the writer's blood is worth using; I would expect even you to know that."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I misplaced 'Sadistic Rituals and the Rules Involved' before I could get to the chapter on blood scripture," he said sarcastically, but Hermione said nothing and kept her eyes on her dripping finger. Draco continued to stare at her as she bled, then kept his eyes on her finger as she shook the last few drops off and poked it into her mouth, the other hand screwing the cap onto the vial. "Have you ever thought about authoring a book, Hermione?"
"Of course, I've written several; why? Have an idea?"
"Actually, yes. You would be the perfect person to write a book entitled 'The Top Ten Ways to Freak Out Draco Malfoy.'"
"Hm...rather wordy title, isn't it? Well, we can work on that," Hermione answered seriously as she recapped the ripper and placed it back in her bag along with the other writing items. Then, she looked slowly up to her chamber mate. "Do I really scare you?"
"Yes. You really do. Or at least, today you do," he answered truthfully, nodding his head.
"And I should consider this a triumph?" Draco sighed and looked away from her, staring blankly down to the floor.
"Anyone else would." Hermione took a slightly angered expression on her face and pursed her lips, shaking her head slowly. She stood up and Draco snapped his head back to her, intent on watching every move she made. Hermione took a step toward him and Draco stiffened a little, but didn't speak or look away.
"It's not nice is it? Are you feeling scared? Intimidated? Alone? Vulnerable? Want it to stop, do you? Want to be the one scaring people? Don't like this unfamiliar feeling?" she ranted, actually sounding angry, which, to Draco, was even more frightening than her solemn sadistic tendencies. Hermione squinted angrily at him, then turned her eyes down to her finger, which was still faintly bleeding.
With a pinch to each segment, a thin line of bright red blood accumulated. Draco was looking to her finger as well, confused at what she was trying to prove, but looked up when she did. Hermione had swiped the opposite index digit over the wound, turning the thin line into one fat drop. She brought her finger to his lips, sliding the tip inside in an almost erotic manner.
"There," she said as the blood disappeared into his mouth. "Now you're a mudblood. Just. Like. Me. We are no longer different. These feelings are my friends, and soon they will be yours. I suggest you make a good first impression... wouldn't want their visits to become less frequent, now, would we?" she whispered harshly, then swiftly moved away and to the opposite side of the compartment, sitting on the same plush red seat she had occupied the entire trip and crossing her arms, staring ahead angrily at nothing. Draco just watched her for a while, unsure of what to say.
"We were never any different," he said quietly, but Hermione didn't turn to him.
"Congratulations on finally figuring this out, Draco. I'm so very proud of you," she said, unmoving other than her lips.
"Well, Granger, I see now why people seem to be deserting you. You do realize that you are angry with me because YOU freaked ME out. Does this make sense to you? I admit to feeling a tad bit insecure and you blow up at me. Not exactly the best way to make friends," he said, slightly sourly, but wouldn't allow himself to get angry. Mirroring her anger would only intensify the situation.
"Well, did you ever think that you might not understand? Is that at all possible? I think it is, and I think it's what's happening. I am not angry, for one, I am...piqued, I suppose. And it is not because I scared you; it's because of the way you acted toward it. You, being who you are, seem to think that everything is about you. If you're scared, then it's a cause for concern. If anyone else is scared, then it's cause for celebration. I have lost count of the number of times you have scared the hell out of me, Draco. And, contrary to your belief, it's not fun from this side," she said and looked down to her knees. "I don't expect you to break out in apology; be the perfect little epitome of immaculateness. You may look the part, but I don't see you playing it. I know this isn't going to be one of those wonderful, story-book like things in which no one dies and everyone lives happily ever after, but it's nice to think that it won't be the exact opposite."
"Okay, point taken; I'm a complete bastard, always have, always will. I told you that already." Hermione hesitantly let a small smile creep onto her face and Draco's own lit up at the sight.
"Look here, now. We've had a fight and made up, yet no bodily harm was inflicted. A first, I believe," Hermione pointed out, flashing her eyes to his very briefly.
"That's not true, my friend. You've made me a mudblood, and although not technically harmful, it was a bodily change, so it counts," Draco said and Hermione looked back to her knees, keeping the poor excuse for a smile on her face.
"Okay, maybe that was a bit extreme. My teeny drop of blood has been successfully eaten away by various acids by now; you are again pureblooded. Congratulations. If only it were that easy for everyone."
"Look, Hermione, I wish I could break out in a heartfelt apology and take everything back I've ever done to you, but I don't think it would really work and it's definitely not my style. I really like you, but..." Draco started and Hermione sent him a slight glare. "Okay, so I don't, but I don't hate you either... and I think I could like you if I got to know you. I propose here and now that we put aside at least some of the bad things that have happened between us and give it a chance; what do you think?"
"I don't know what to think anymore, Draco. I haven't known what to think in weeks. I don't think I'm even capable anymore," she said with a sigh, tilting back her head. "And yes," she said after a pause. "I do realize that that sentence was somewhat oxymoronic." Draco laughed amusedly at her joke and Hermione felt warm shivers run down her spine. "And just so you know; I think I could like you too."
"Well, why don't you make the first step toward our mutual declaration of possible esteem and come sit next to me?" Draco suggested, moving to the side and patting the seat beside him. Hermione looked to his face curiously and paused for a moment, then nodded.
"Yeah... yeah, I think I could do that," she said and stood. Draco smiled as she made her way over to him and put his arm on the back of the sofa- like seat. As Hermione sat down, she pulled the hair tie restricting her auburn locks and released her bun, letting the wavy curtain of silk fall over the pale arm behind her. Draco, still smiling, shivered a bit at this motion. Her hair was incredible. Unable to resist, Draco moved his arm so that his hand could touch her dark brown shroud, letting the silky strands flow through his fingers. Hermione sighed and relaxed, letting his touch have all of her attention.
"You haven't dyed your hair black yet; you can't be too far gone," he commented with a smile and Hermione turned her head a bit to acknowledge her listening.
"My mum wouldn't let me; I'm planning on doing it after dinner; I already made the potion," she replied, earning a chuckle from the Slytherin it had taken her so little time to warm up to, once given the chance.
"I stand corrected," he agreed, moving his face closer and closing his eyes; the intoxicating smell of her hair entering his system. She smelled of spicy lemons and slightly of pepper as well, but the mixture was amazing. The slow breath Draco took became deep, making it obvious of his actions. Hermione smiled.
"Are you smelling my hair?" she asked amusedly, turning a bit to face him. Draco smiled sheepishly and exhaled his deep breath.
"Maybe."
"Didn't think I'd mind?"
"Do you?" Hermione gave a breathy laugh and shook her head before moving in swiftly to steal another kiss from the man she made a mudblood, if only for a few moments. Draco was more than happy to comply with her wishes and instantly kissed back, leaning into it and moving the hand not in his hair to lightly caress her cheek.
"No, I don't mind," Hermione said with a smile after they slowly broke apart. Draco smiled.
"Am I that irresistible that you can't sit next to me without begging for a kiss, Granger?" he asked smartly and Hermione smiled.
"You didn't seem to be pushing me away, Malfoy. And who am I to deny the hottest guy in our class, hm? Your fan club members aren't the only people to admire you."
"Flattered, really, but what's this about a fan club? Why haven't I heard about this?"
"Just because you're attractive, it doesn't make you any less intimidating. If we told you you'd... do something not so pleasant to us, so the club is kept under wraps, but there are a whole lot of members, I'll tell you," she said, pulling her legs up beside her on the seat, causing her body to press closer to Draco's. This action didn't exactly bother him; she really was gorgeous. He smirked.
"You said we."
"What?"
"You said we, and us. If WE told you you'd do something to US. I do believe you are one of these fanatics, are you not?" he questioned as if he already knew. Hermione sighed.
"Yes," she admitted quietly, looking toward the window again. "Pansy, of course, is president; she figures out when and where we should meet; usually she tells us at dinner. Well, she tells someone who tells someone else and so on... if there is no meeting, then I know what you say is true. I highly doubt that, though. These girls are infatuated with you, Draco. Some of it is rather disgusting, really. For example; each week one girl has to take something of yours to show to the group. The Slytherin girls have the best stuff, naturally, but sometimes someone will get lucky and come into possession of a lock of your hair or something."
"You're right, that is rather pathetic. So, what did you steal from me?" Draco asked with a smirk and Hermione smiled.
"I stole your quill during potions," she admitted, looking to the floor.
"The black one with a red shaft?" She nodded. "Hermione, that was my favorite quill!"
"Sorry, but the meeting was after that class and I'd been trying for a week; I was desperate. I bet if they'd known you liked it so much they would have been a little nicer about it," Hermione said and scrunched up her nose a bit. "My turn is always after Pansy, and she brings the most inside stuff; it's a hard act to follow. When you follow boxer shorts with a quill, yeah, you get some nasty looks."
"They've stolen my underwear?" he asked, in reality a little surprised, and Hermione nodded.
"Pansy has," she said, just as her magic watch began to beep. She looked at it and the beeping stopped, then she made a face and tucked her arms back together.
"What's that?" Draco asked and Hermione looked to him.
"Yes, that would be a watch, Draco." He rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I know that, what I meant was, what was it reminding you to do?"
"Prefect meeting," she stated sourly, then turned back to the window.
"Oh right, I forgot all about that. Are you coming?" Draco said, reluctantly moving away from her and standing up. Hermione looked up at him.
"You're a prefect?" she asked and he nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Thought you knew. Come on; don't want to be late, do we?" he asked, holding out a hand to her. Hermione shook her head.
"I'm not going. I'll go through enough death glares at dinner to satisfy me, thank you." Draco frowned a bit at being blown off and dropped his hand.
"Alright, but I'm going. If we both don't go, it'll look a tad suspicious, don't you think?" She hesitated a bit and nodded. "I'll come back, don't worry," he assured her and ran a finger over her cheek, causing her to look at him. Draco stepped back toward the door and waved to her, then slipped out and moved down the hall. Hermione watched him go and the sadness re- dominated her features.
"Great; all alone again... just peachy," she said sourly and turned back to the window. Once again, the rain was letting up; a cherry on the poor excuse for an ice cream sundae that was her mood.
~S~S~S~S~S~S~S
Hermione sat alone in her compartment, now back on her side, with her legs curled below her. She had opened the window and was resting her chin on the damp sill, the light rain stinging her face as the wind wiped it along the side of the train. She was cold, wet, and most of all, alone, but she didn't seem to care. Even as Draco burst back through the doors, she remained still and silent, only blinking to keep the rain from stinging her eyes. In the end, she just kept them closed. Draco seemed to be getting used to this strange behavior, and only looked worried for a moment before happily sitting beside her, a wide grin on his face.
"You seem happy," she commented, not moving from her position.
"How would you know, you won't even look at me," he said, but didn't sound at all angry or upset. Hermione smiled.
"You're radiating it and, to be frankly honest, it's freaking me out a little."
"Should I be angry?" he asked with a smirk and Hermione said nothing, her smile dropping again. "Sorry, shouldn't have said that," Draco apologized when he noticed this, and the radiation Hermione was feeling became deluded. She took a deep breath of the clean air outside the train and pulled her head back, sliding the window slowly shut before turning back to her compartment-mate.
"Care to explain yourself?" she asked, smiling just a little, and Draco's happiness returned.
"Good news, I think. As prefects, we get our own little dorm, and, because the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw prefects, don't even ask me their names, are scared of me and mad at you, they voted to share a staircase, which means, you're with me, Herm-i-o-ne." Hermione smiled.
"Rhyming; another thing that's beyond you. But yes, I could file that under good news... that is if I can get the drawer open; I'm sure it's rusted shut by now," she said almost happily, her smile remaining.
"I see we're just as pessimistic as ever," Draco said smartly and Hermione turned to look at him, then tilted her head to the side, letting her hair fan out. Draco watched this and blinked his eyes slowly, wanting desperately to touch that hair again, remembering the silky smooth tendrils as they slid through his fingers. "I'd lend you my jimmy, but I wouldn't want to end up tried for the murder of the Gryffindor prefect."
"Yeah, because I would do that and let you take all the credit. Have you even been listening to me?" she asked, but was smiling slightly.
"Indeed I have."
"Hm. So, what other no doubt fascinating facts did I miss by not attending this meeting? Who's Head Girl?"
"H-something Abbot. Heather? No..." Draco answered, trying to think of the name given to the bossy head girl he had had the displeasure of meeting this day.
"Hannah," Hermione provided and Draco nodded. "Okay, and the Boy?"
"None other than the-boy-who-lived-to-be-an-asshole." Hermione squinted angrily.
"Not surprising. And do you know WHY he's Head Boy? Because he's Harry Potter; the most famous wizard alive, if not the smartest, cutest, or most talented. Because he's earned Gryffindor thousands of points by saving everyone's pathetic little lives. Because he sat to the side and waited for everyone to fight to the death, then jumped in ten seconds before the win and proclaimed himself victor," Hermione ranted, but kept her emotionless voice.
"Is someone jealous?" She shook her head furiously.
"No. I could have been Head Girl if I wanted to," she said determinedly.
"Really, I was surprised that you weren't."
"I would have been if I didn't sleep through the damn OLWS," she said sadly, turning slightly back toward the window. Draco looked surprised.
"You slept through the OWLS? Ouch," he said, wincing in sympathy.
"No, not the entire thing; only the first hour. You'd think a mark in the 98th percentile would be respected when completed in thirty minutes, but no, let's over look this and the fact that she'd spent all night studying facts she already knew, just to be prepared, as well as the fact that her roommate turned off her alarm clock and focus on the fact that she slept a little late." Hermione stared at a spot on the floor for a moment, then turned to Draco with a curious look. "What did you score?"
"95th," he said proudly and Hermione smiled. "Do you know what Potter got?" he asked and her face dropped a bit at the name of her ex-friend.
"Somewhere near an 85 I think. I really hate that kid," she said. "Reason why you're not Head Boy?" Draco laughed.
"They disqualify you if you've had more than 50 detentions."
"And you've had?"
"103," he answered and she let a small chuckle escape her lips. Draco smiled and Hermione pulled her legs back out from underneath her, letting them once again dangle off the edge of her seat. This too added to Draco's smile. When Hermione nonchalantly lifted a hand and ran her fingers through that painfully beautiful hair, Draco lost a bit of control. He swiftly leaned in, capturing her lips with his in a gentle kiss. Hermione eagerly kissed back and Draco gained the confidence to let his fingers once again move through her hair. When they broke away, he quickly spoke. "You're freezing," he said concernedly and Hermione nodded, a smile on her face. "Come," he commanded gently, opening his arms for her. She looked questioningly at him, but Draco smiled genuinely and tilted his head. His innocent demeanor gave Hermione the reassurance she needed to move closer, liking the feeling of being another body so closed to hers.
As Draco moved one hand around her shoulders to hold her close, presumably to get her warm, Hermione thought of something. Even her parents had been distant. She would see them an hour a week, if lucky, for dinner on Sunday night. For the most part, they were gone to the office before she woke, and back long after she went to bed. Her mother had even stopped leaving her notes on the table, like she had done since she was in kindergarten. Everyone was leaving her; soon there would be no one left; she would really be alone. Then she heard Draco sigh contentedly. Draco. Just when every one leaves, he comes to her rescue. Almost suddenly, she held him a little tighter. Just now did she realize how much she really did need him to be there with her, and suddenly, she wanted to cry. She wouldn't cry, of course. Hermione Granger does not cry. Hermione Granger is a brave and strong Gryffindor. But Hermione Granger had left that compartment unnoticed that day, as the tears slid easily down the nameless girl's face and onto the soft forest green sweater of her only friend.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the Judas tears and didn't notice the gentle murmur of soothing words spoken from above her until their volume grew.
"Shh... it's okay, Hermione. They're not worth it; you don't need this from them. You'll be alright... shh... you'll find someone better; I promise..." Draco told her, pressing his face into her hair and rocking her gently. "Someone who'll care for you, comfort you, and love you like they never could. You're too good for this, Hermione. Don't let them get to you, they mean nothing." Hermione stayed silent, her eyes closed and her grip firm. No one had ever done anything like this for her; not even before the world turned away. When her attempted to be stifled sobs died down, Draco grew quiet. He continued to hold her close and rock her, but he remained quiet, listening to her breathing and savoring her scent.
Draco knew she was just an act. Everything she had done this day had been, in one way or another, covering up the pain and loneliness she felt from being abandoned. In truth, he admired her. She had been extremely meticulous in covering every shard of hurt she was feeling and it was only when he touched her did she fall back onto those shards. Something strange inside of him wanted to catch her as she fell; place himself between her and the ground; make all her pain just go away. There was just something about this girl he was automatically addicted to; he wanted nothing more than to make sure she was never hurt again. He would hold her today until she didn't need it anymore; even if it took hours, Draco would be there for this girl. It wasn't until Hermione lifted a slightly shaky hand to her face and wiped away a lingering droplet did Draco pull slightly away.
"Are you okay?" he asked in a whisper and Hermione nodded while she wiped away another tear, then her lip began to quiver and she shook her head as she once again burst into tears. Draco frowned a little and pulled her back into him, letting Hermione grab hold of his sweater and sob into his chest. Again he held her close and began whispering to her, waiting for her to stop again. Hermione cried longer this time; no longer afraid to do so. Draco was there for her right now, and she was not about to waste this moment on sarcasm. When she finally did stop again, Hermione finally noticed the feel of a hand combing through her hair with rigid fingers.
"Draco..."she whispered then sniffed as she pulled away and wiped her tears away a second time. Draco said nothing, simply looked at her and raised a hand to her cheek to assist in the drying of her delicate skin. "Why are you doing this?" Draco smiled.
"A lot of reasons. You scared me; I worship you now. And you're intoxicating, gorgeous, and definitely worth it. Plus; you're my friend," he said, smiling. "Right?" Hermione nodded and a small smile crept onto her face. She was pulled into him again, but this time for a hug and not to be consoled.
"Thank you," she whispered and he laughed.
"I have a whole lot more to do before I deserve your thanks or your forgiveness, Hermione." She smiled and pulled away.
"You do realize that if you tell anyone about this, when I borrow your jimmy, self won't be the form of mutilation on my mind, don't you?" Draco laughed a bit and smiled.
"Who am I going to tell?" he asked and she smiled.
"Good point, but regardless..."
"I won't, on one condition." Hermione lifted an eyebrow, but before she could ask of his request, Draco claimed her lips for the first time. Hermione was startled; she hadn't really thought that the kisses they had shared earlier that day had meant anything to him, but here he was, proving her wrong. Quickly, Hermione regained herself and gave back a little of what she was getting. Draco seemed more than happy about this and his lip caress became a little more energetic. She parted her lips slightly, allowing the Slytherin tongue to voyage inside. This crusade was short lived, as just at that moment, the compartment door burst open.
PRF:
Hasapi: Thanx! Yeah, I thought it was at least semi original. Hey, I liked it... hehe
Kate: Me too, except I think I should have made Draco a little meaner....but then again, Hermione was kind of freaking him out a little, so it's okay that he was like repeating the same two questions over and over and over and... yeah
Hota - Chan: Thanx!
Daisy: Thanx for the well written comment; it's much better than the first chapter of Flames, I'll tell you what. I'm sorry if you not really liking it, but I do... I though it was kind of different and such... yeah
Angelstarling: Eep! Scared! Lol. You know what? Me too, lol. I have no idea where this story is going... usually I have some idea, but right now I only have like the idea of what's going to happen in the next chapter.... hm, that's probably not good, but we'll see what happens... haha.
Some1: Can I be Some2? Lol. I love my Flames, which is why this fic is moving along so slowly. This chapter took me TWO WHOLE DAYS to write! So you better all be appreciating it! Er! Lol, j/k!
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Hermione was sitting on the floor of their compartment, knees drawn up and her back against the seat. She stared up at the window blankly, watching the rain hit the glass and cascade down the little rivers made by their forefathers. Draco watched her from across the compartment. He couldn't help it; she was intoxicating. She looked so lonely, so lost and out of place... like a small child alone in a big room; something was missing. Hermione knew he was staring, but she paid him no notice. If he wanted to stare, more power to him. No one else would be staring anytime soon, she might as well savor the flavor of attraction.
This thought caused her mind do race again. She rebirthed her thoughts of Harry and Ron, and all the other Gryffindors, and traced back on her previous conversations with Draco. The talk of suicide had really made her feel better, but it was short lived. Speaking so seriously about such a simple form of release was refreshing... but realizing she could never do it made her even more depressed. She let her feet slide away from her a bit, then began rocking back and forth, eyes still on the window. Draco continued to watch her; now so with even more interest.
"Something wrong, Hermione?" he asked, hoping to see her smile, or turn away from the window, but Hermione remained silent and rocking as if he hadn't said a word. "Hermione?" Draco repeated, sounding a little bit concerned now. He had been thinking this whole time; mostly about Hermione. It was mind boggling for Draco as he realized how just the simple agreement for an unorthodox friendship brought forth such feelings in him for her. But, continuing to ponder the matter, he decided that it wasn't really that strange. She was his only chance at pleasant human contact for a while, and he was determined to make the best of it; even if she was Mudblood Granger.
But she wasn't Mudblood Granger. Or at least not the same Mudblood Granger. This girl was different. Sad, lonely, and in desperate need of his friendship; that wasn't the goody-two-shoes prefect who had contradicted each of his insults for the past seven years. And this girl was gorgeous; definitely unlike the bossy Mudblood.
"Granger, honestly. How can I be your friend if you won't tell me what's wrong?" he asked coyly, smirking at his ingenious. That should get an answer out of her.
"I want to write," she said quietly, then stopped rocking for long enough to pull her sleeves over her hands and ball the extra fabric into her fists.
"Then why don't you?"
"I can't. Not with you here," she said and shook her head, sounding almost exactly like she had when he had first entered the compartment.
"Why not, it's not like I'm going to read over your shoulder or anything. And since when do you care what other people think?" he asked, leaning back and swinging his legs up and onto the seat. Hermione, who had resumed her rocking, stopped again and spookily turned her head toward Draco.
"You know what, you're right," she said and, exceptionally quickly compared to her movements for the duration of the train ride, reached for her bag, bringing down beside her and opening the clasp.
"Of course I'm right," Draco said as he watched her pull a black notebook, quill, and ink pot from her knapsack. She twisted the vile open and dipped in the quill, then opened her book and found the correct page. She began writing, the ink a bright red, which dulled to a dusty brown as it dried. A strange and coppery smell filled the boxcar and Draco looked on with interest. "What's that you're writing with?" he asked and Hermione immediately pulled the notebook to her chest.
"You said you wouldn't read," she said fiercely, her eyes burning. Draco shook his head calmly.
"Not reading, just looking. So, what is it? Not ink, I presume."
"Of course not; it's blood, what else would it be?" she said as if it were as normal as sour cream on a baked potato. Draco shut up at that comment, simply staring as she lowered the book once again and brought her knees in closer, bringing the tiny writing away from his view. He said nothing for the remainder of her writing time; simply watched as she furiously scribbled and quickly turned each page.
After about forty-five minutes, Hermione slowly closed the notebook and sighed in relief as she placed it next to her on the floor. She moved her legs into a crossed position and pulled her bag close again. Still, she was aware of Draco's eyes, but did nothing. It was almost nice to feel his gaze, which wasn't harsh or penetrating, but warm and curious, as if he were observing a cute little lab rat. Hermione brought the still open vial to rest on the floor in front of her, then pulled from the front pocket of her bag a tiny yellow tube. She separated the two pieces of the minute cylinder to reveal a shiny thread ripper from her mother's sewing kit. At the sight of the blade, Draco looked harder; a little worried about what she planned to do with it. Hermione still wore an emotionless expression on her face as she brought the sharp point down on the inside of her index finger and began to move it toward the tip, leaving a trail of bright red blood behind. Draco's eyes widened and he sat up.
"What are you doing?" he asked impatiently, staring at her bleeding finger, which had now been placed over the vile, the dripping blood adding to its contents.
"Hm," Hermione said, tilting her head and placing her uncut index finger to her chin. "If I were to guess, I would say that I was bleeding into a vile... but you never know; looks can be deceiving."
"Well I figured that much out, Granger; let me rephrase my question. Why the hell did you just slice yourself open?"
"Honestly, Draco, I need write, and to write, I need ink. I'm planning ahead by doing it now; using those Granger smarts I'm so widely known for... if I bleed a little after each time I write, I won't run out and have to bleed a whole lot in one sitting, but I still have ink for emergencies in which no blades are present. Where did you think I got the blood? A helpless victim? A murdered animal, perhaps? Or maybe just the apothecary? Only the writer's blood is worth using; I would expect even you to know that."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I misplaced 'Sadistic Rituals and the Rules Involved' before I could get to the chapter on blood scripture," he said sarcastically, but Hermione said nothing and kept her eyes on her dripping finger. Draco continued to stare at her as she bled, then kept his eyes on her finger as she shook the last few drops off and poked it into her mouth, the other hand screwing the cap onto the vial. "Have you ever thought about authoring a book, Hermione?"
"Of course, I've written several; why? Have an idea?"
"Actually, yes. You would be the perfect person to write a book entitled 'The Top Ten Ways to Freak Out Draco Malfoy.'"
"Hm...rather wordy title, isn't it? Well, we can work on that," Hermione answered seriously as she recapped the ripper and placed it back in her bag along with the other writing items. Then, she looked slowly up to her chamber mate. "Do I really scare you?"
"Yes. You really do. Or at least, today you do," he answered truthfully, nodding his head.
"And I should consider this a triumph?" Draco sighed and looked away from her, staring blankly down to the floor.
"Anyone else would." Hermione took a slightly angered expression on her face and pursed her lips, shaking her head slowly. She stood up and Draco snapped his head back to her, intent on watching every move she made. Hermione took a step toward him and Draco stiffened a little, but didn't speak or look away.
"It's not nice is it? Are you feeling scared? Intimidated? Alone? Vulnerable? Want it to stop, do you? Want to be the one scaring people? Don't like this unfamiliar feeling?" she ranted, actually sounding angry, which, to Draco, was even more frightening than her solemn sadistic tendencies. Hermione squinted angrily at him, then turned her eyes down to her finger, which was still faintly bleeding.
With a pinch to each segment, a thin line of bright red blood accumulated. Draco was looking to her finger as well, confused at what she was trying to prove, but looked up when she did. Hermione had swiped the opposite index digit over the wound, turning the thin line into one fat drop. She brought her finger to his lips, sliding the tip inside in an almost erotic manner.
"There," she said as the blood disappeared into his mouth. "Now you're a mudblood. Just. Like. Me. We are no longer different. These feelings are my friends, and soon they will be yours. I suggest you make a good first impression... wouldn't want their visits to become less frequent, now, would we?" she whispered harshly, then swiftly moved away and to the opposite side of the compartment, sitting on the same plush red seat she had occupied the entire trip and crossing her arms, staring ahead angrily at nothing. Draco just watched her for a while, unsure of what to say.
"We were never any different," he said quietly, but Hermione didn't turn to him.
"Congratulations on finally figuring this out, Draco. I'm so very proud of you," she said, unmoving other than her lips.
"Well, Granger, I see now why people seem to be deserting you. You do realize that you are angry with me because YOU freaked ME out. Does this make sense to you? I admit to feeling a tad bit insecure and you blow up at me. Not exactly the best way to make friends," he said, slightly sourly, but wouldn't allow himself to get angry. Mirroring her anger would only intensify the situation.
"Well, did you ever think that you might not understand? Is that at all possible? I think it is, and I think it's what's happening. I am not angry, for one, I am...piqued, I suppose. And it is not because I scared you; it's because of the way you acted toward it. You, being who you are, seem to think that everything is about you. If you're scared, then it's a cause for concern. If anyone else is scared, then it's cause for celebration. I have lost count of the number of times you have scared the hell out of me, Draco. And, contrary to your belief, it's not fun from this side," she said and looked down to her knees. "I don't expect you to break out in apology; be the perfect little epitome of immaculateness. You may look the part, but I don't see you playing it. I know this isn't going to be one of those wonderful, story-book like things in which no one dies and everyone lives happily ever after, but it's nice to think that it won't be the exact opposite."
"Okay, point taken; I'm a complete bastard, always have, always will. I told you that already." Hermione hesitantly let a small smile creep onto her face and Draco's own lit up at the sight.
"Look here, now. We've had a fight and made up, yet no bodily harm was inflicted. A first, I believe," Hermione pointed out, flashing her eyes to his very briefly.
"That's not true, my friend. You've made me a mudblood, and although not technically harmful, it was a bodily change, so it counts," Draco said and Hermione looked back to her knees, keeping the poor excuse for a smile on her face.
"Okay, maybe that was a bit extreme. My teeny drop of blood has been successfully eaten away by various acids by now; you are again pureblooded. Congratulations. If only it were that easy for everyone."
"Look, Hermione, I wish I could break out in a heartfelt apology and take everything back I've ever done to you, but I don't think it would really work and it's definitely not my style. I really like you, but..." Draco started and Hermione sent him a slight glare. "Okay, so I don't, but I don't hate you either... and I think I could like you if I got to know you. I propose here and now that we put aside at least some of the bad things that have happened between us and give it a chance; what do you think?"
"I don't know what to think anymore, Draco. I haven't known what to think in weeks. I don't think I'm even capable anymore," she said with a sigh, tilting back her head. "And yes," she said after a pause. "I do realize that that sentence was somewhat oxymoronic." Draco laughed amusedly at her joke and Hermione felt warm shivers run down her spine. "And just so you know; I think I could like you too."
"Well, why don't you make the first step toward our mutual declaration of possible esteem and come sit next to me?" Draco suggested, moving to the side and patting the seat beside him. Hermione looked to his face curiously and paused for a moment, then nodded.
"Yeah... yeah, I think I could do that," she said and stood. Draco smiled as she made her way over to him and put his arm on the back of the sofa- like seat. As Hermione sat down, she pulled the hair tie restricting her auburn locks and released her bun, letting the wavy curtain of silk fall over the pale arm behind her. Draco, still smiling, shivered a bit at this motion. Her hair was incredible. Unable to resist, Draco moved his arm so that his hand could touch her dark brown shroud, letting the silky strands flow through his fingers. Hermione sighed and relaxed, letting his touch have all of her attention.
"You haven't dyed your hair black yet; you can't be too far gone," he commented with a smile and Hermione turned her head a bit to acknowledge her listening.
"My mum wouldn't let me; I'm planning on doing it after dinner; I already made the potion," she replied, earning a chuckle from the Slytherin it had taken her so little time to warm up to, once given the chance.
"I stand corrected," he agreed, moving his face closer and closing his eyes; the intoxicating smell of her hair entering his system. She smelled of spicy lemons and slightly of pepper as well, but the mixture was amazing. The slow breath Draco took became deep, making it obvious of his actions. Hermione smiled.
"Are you smelling my hair?" she asked amusedly, turning a bit to face him. Draco smiled sheepishly and exhaled his deep breath.
"Maybe."
"Didn't think I'd mind?"
"Do you?" Hermione gave a breathy laugh and shook her head before moving in swiftly to steal another kiss from the man she made a mudblood, if only for a few moments. Draco was more than happy to comply with her wishes and instantly kissed back, leaning into it and moving the hand not in his hair to lightly caress her cheek.
"No, I don't mind," Hermione said with a smile after they slowly broke apart. Draco smiled.
"Am I that irresistible that you can't sit next to me without begging for a kiss, Granger?" he asked smartly and Hermione smiled.
"You didn't seem to be pushing me away, Malfoy. And who am I to deny the hottest guy in our class, hm? Your fan club members aren't the only people to admire you."
"Flattered, really, but what's this about a fan club? Why haven't I heard about this?"
"Just because you're attractive, it doesn't make you any less intimidating. If we told you you'd... do something not so pleasant to us, so the club is kept under wraps, but there are a whole lot of members, I'll tell you," she said, pulling her legs up beside her on the seat, causing her body to press closer to Draco's. This action didn't exactly bother him; she really was gorgeous. He smirked.
"You said we."
"What?"
"You said we, and us. If WE told you you'd do something to US. I do believe you are one of these fanatics, are you not?" he questioned as if he already knew. Hermione sighed.
"Yes," she admitted quietly, looking toward the window again. "Pansy, of course, is president; she figures out when and where we should meet; usually she tells us at dinner. Well, she tells someone who tells someone else and so on... if there is no meeting, then I know what you say is true. I highly doubt that, though. These girls are infatuated with you, Draco. Some of it is rather disgusting, really. For example; each week one girl has to take something of yours to show to the group. The Slytherin girls have the best stuff, naturally, but sometimes someone will get lucky and come into possession of a lock of your hair or something."
"You're right, that is rather pathetic. So, what did you steal from me?" Draco asked with a smirk and Hermione smiled.
"I stole your quill during potions," she admitted, looking to the floor.
"The black one with a red shaft?" She nodded. "Hermione, that was my favorite quill!"
"Sorry, but the meeting was after that class and I'd been trying for a week; I was desperate. I bet if they'd known you liked it so much they would have been a little nicer about it," Hermione said and scrunched up her nose a bit. "My turn is always after Pansy, and she brings the most inside stuff; it's a hard act to follow. When you follow boxer shorts with a quill, yeah, you get some nasty looks."
"They've stolen my underwear?" he asked, in reality a little surprised, and Hermione nodded.
"Pansy has," she said, just as her magic watch began to beep. She looked at it and the beeping stopped, then she made a face and tucked her arms back together.
"What's that?" Draco asked and Hermione looked to him.
"Yes, that would be a watch, Draco." He rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I know that, what I meant was, what was it reminding you to do?"
"Prefect meeting," she stated sourly, then turned back to the window.
"Oh right, I forgot all about that. Are you coming?" Draco said, reluctantly moving away from her and standing up. Hermione looked up at him.
"You're a prefect?" she asked and he nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Thought you knew. Come on; don't want to be late, do we?" he asked, holding out a hand to her. Hermione shook her head.
"I'm not going. I'll go through enough death glares at dinner to satisfy me, thank you." Draco frowned a bit at being blown off and dropped his hand.
"Alright, but I'm going. If we both don't go, it'll look a tad suspicious, don't you think?" She hesitated a bit and nodded. "I'll come back, don't worry," he assured her and ran a finger over her cheek, causing her to look at him. Draco stepped back toward the door and waved to her, then slipped out and moved down the hall. Hermione watched him go and the sadness re- dominated her features.
"Great; all alone again... just peachy," she said sourly and turned back to the window. Once again, the rain was letting up; a cherry on the poor excuse for an ice cream sundae that was her mood.
~S~S~S~S~S~S~S
Hermione sat alone in her compartment, now back on her side, with her legs curled below her. She had opened the window and was resting her chin on the damp sill, the light rain stinging her face as the wind wiped it along the side of the train. She was cold, wet, and most of all, alone, but she didn't seem to care. Even as Draco burst back through the doors, she remained still and silent, only blinking to keep the rain from stinging her eyes. In the end, she just kept them closed. Draco seemed to be getting used to this strange behavior, and only looked worried for a moment before happily sitting beside her, a wide grin on his face.
"You seem happy," she commented, not moving from her position.
"How would you know, you won't even look at me," he said, but didn't sound at all angry or upset. Hermione smiled.
"You're radiating it and, to be frankly honest, it's freaking me out a little."
"Should I be angry?" he asked with a smirk and Hermione said nothing, her smile dropping again. "Sorry, shouldn't have said that," Draco apologized when he noticed this, and the radiation Hermione was feeling became deluded. She took a deep breath of the clean air outside the train and pulled her head back, sliding the window slowly shut before turning back to her compartment-mate.
"Care to explain yourself?" she asked, smiling just a little, and Draco's happiness returned.
"Good news, I think. As prefects, we get our own little dorm, and, because the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw prefects, don't even ask me their names, are scared of me and mad at you, they voted to share a staircase, which means, you're with me, Herm-i-o-ne." Hermione smiled.
"Rhyming; another thing that's beyond you. But yes, I could file that under good news... that is if I can get the drawer open; I'm sure it's rusted shut by now," she said almost happily, her smile remaining.
"I see we're just as pessimistic as ever," Draco said smartly and Hermione turned to look at him, then tilted her head to the side, letting her hair fan out. Draco watched this and blinked his eyes slowly, wanting desperately to touch that hair again, remembering the silky smooth tendrils as they slid through his fingers. "I'd lend you my jimmy, but I wouldn't want to end up tried for the murder of the Gryffindor prefect."
"Yeah, because I would do that and let you take all the credit. Have you even been listening to me?" she asked, but was smiling slightly.
"Indeed I have."
"Hm. So, what other no doubt fascinating facts did I miss by not attending this meeting? Who's Head Girl?"
"H-something Abbot. Heather? No..." Draco answered, trying to think of the name given to the bossy head girl he had had the displeasure of meeting this day.
"Hannah," Hermione provided and Draco nodded. "Okay, and the Boy?"
"None other than the-boy-who-lived-to-be-an-asshole." Hermione squinted angrily.
"Not surprising. And do you know WHY he's Head Boy? Because he's Harry Potter; the most famous wizard alive, if not the smartest, cutest, or most talented. Because he's earned Gryffindor thousands of points by saving everyone's pathetic little lives. Because he sat to the side and waited for everyone to fight to the death, then jumped in ten seconds before the win and proclaimed himself victor," Hermione ranted, but kept her emotionless voice.
"Is someone jealous?" She shook her head furiously.
"No. I could have been Head Girl if I wanted to," she said determinedly.
"Really, I was surprised that you weren't."
"I would have been if I didn't sleep through the damn OLWS," she said sadly, turning slightly back toward the window. Draco looked surprised.
"You slept through the OWLS? Ouch," he said, wincing in sympathy.
"No, not the entire thing; only the first hour. You'd think a mark in the 98th percentile would be respected when completed in thirty minutes, but no, let's over look this and the fact that she'd spent all night studying facts she already knew, just to be prepared, as well as the fact that her roommate turned off her alarm clock and focus on the fact that she slept a little late." Hermione stared at a spot on the floor for a moment, then turned to Draco with a curious look. "What did you score?"
"95th," he said proudly and Hermione smiled. "Do you know what Potter got?" he asked and her face dropped a bit at the name of her ex-friend.
"Somewhere near an 85 I think. I really hate that kid," she said. "Reason why you're not Head Boy?" Draco laughed.
"They disqualify you if you've had more than 50 detentions."
"And you've had?"
"103," he answered and she let a small chuckle escape her lips. Draco smiled and Hermione pulled her legs back out from underneath her, letting them once again dangle off the edge of her seat. This too added to Draco's smile. When Hermione nonchalantly lifted a hand and ran her fingers through that painfully beautiful hair, Draco lost a bit of control. He swiftly leaned in, capturing her lips with his in a gentle kiss. Hermione eagerly kissed back and Draco gained the confidence to let his fingers once again move through her hair. When they broke away, he quickly spoke. "You're freezing," he said concernedly and Hermione nodded, a smile on her face. "Come," he commanded gently, opening his arms for her. She looked questioningly at him, but Draco smiled genuinely and tilted his head. His innocent demeanor gave Hermione the reassurance she needed to move closer, liking the feeling of being another body so closed to hers.
As Draco moved one hand around her shoulders to hold her close, presumably to get her warm, Hermione thought of something. Even her parents had been distant. She would see them an hour a week, if lucky, for dinner on Sunday night. For the most part, they were gone to the office before she woke, and back long after she went to bed. Her mother had even stopped leaving her notes on the table, like she had done since she was in kindergarten. Everyone was leaving her; soon there would be no one left; she would really be alone. Then she heard Draco sigh contentedly. Draco. Just when every one leaves, he comes to her rescue. Almost suddenly, she held him a little tighter. Just now did she realize how much she really did need him to be there with her, and suddenly, she wanted to cry. She wouldn't cry, of course. Hermione Granger does not cry. Hermione Granger is a brave and strong Gryffindor. But Hermione Granger had left that compartment unnoticed that day, as the tears slid easily down the nameless girl's face and onto the soft forest green sweater of her only friend.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the Judas tears and didn't notice the gentle murmur of soothing words spoken from above her until their volume grew.
"Shh... it's okay, Hermione. They're not worth it; you don't need this from them. You'll be alright... shh... you'll find someone better; I promise..." Draco told her, pressing his face into her hair and rocking her gently. "Someone who'll care for you, comfort you, and love you like they never could. You're too good for this, Hermione. Don't let them get to you, they mean nothing." Hermione stayed silent, her eyes closed and her grip firm. No one had ever done anything like this for her; not even before the world turned away. When her attempted to be stifled sobs died down, Draco grew quiet. He continued to hold her close and rock her, but he remained quiet, listening to her breathing and savoring her scent.
Draco knew she was just an act. Everything she had done this day had been, in one way or another, covering up the pain and loneliness she felt from being abandoned. In truth, he admired her. She had been extremely meticulous in covering every shard of hurt she was feeling and it was only when he touched her did she fall back onto those shards. Something strange inside of him wanted to catch her as she fell; place himself between her and the ground; make all her pain just go away. There was just something about this girl he was automatically addicted to; he wanted nothing more than to make sure she was never hurt again. He would hold her today until she didn't need it anymore; even if it took hours, Draco would be there for this girl. It wasn't until Hermione lifted a slightly shaky hand to her face and wiped away a lingering droplet did Draco pull slightly away.
"Are you okay?" he asked in a whisper and Hermione nodded while she wiped away another tear, then her lip began to quiver and she shook her head as she once again burst into tears. Draco frowned a little and pulled her back into him, letting Hermione grab hold of his sweater and sob into his chest. Again he held her close and began whispering to her, waiting for her to stop again. Hermione cried longer this time; no longer afraid to do so. Draco was there for her right now, and she was not about to waste this moment on sarcasm. When she finally did stop again, Hermione finally noticed the feel of a hand combing through her hair with rigid fingers.
"Draco..."she whispered then sniffed as she pulled away and wiped her tears away a second time. Draco said nothing, simply looked at her and raised a hand to her cheek to assist in the drying of her delicate skin. "Why are you doing this?" Draco smiled.
"A lot of reasons. You scared me; I worship you now. And you're intoxicating, gorgeous, and definitely worth it. Plus; you're my friend," he said, smiling. "Right?" Hermione nodded and a small smile crept onto her face. She was pulled into him again, but this time for a hug and not to be consoled.
"Thank you," she whispered and he laughed.
"I have a whole lot more to do before I deserve your thanks or your forgiveness, Hermione." She smiled and pulled away.
"You do realize that if you tell anyone about this, when I borrow your jimmy, self won't be the form of mutilation on my mind, don't you?" Draco laughed a bit and smiled.
"Who am I going to tell?" he asked and she smiled.
"Good point, but regardless..."
"I won't, on one condition." Hermione lifted an eyebrow, but before she could ask of his request, Draco claimed her lips for the first time. Hermione was startled; she hadn't really thought that the kisses they had shared earlier that day had meant anything to him, but here he was, proving her wrong. Quickly, Hermione regained herself and gave back a little of what she was getting. Draco seemed more than happy about this and his lip caress became a little more energetic. She parted her lips slightly, allowing the Slytherin tongue to voyage inside. This crusade was short lived, as just at that moment, the compartment door burst open.
PRF:
Hasapi: Thanx! Yeah, I thought it was at least semi original. Hey, I liked it... hehe
Kate: Me too, except I think I should have made Draco a little meaner....but then again, Hermione was kind of freaking him out a little, so it's okay that he was like repeating the same two questions over and over and over and... yeah
Hota - Chan: Thanx!
Daisy: Thanx for the well written comment; it's much better than the first chapter of Flames, I'll tell you what. I'm sorry if you not really liking it, but I do... I though it was kind of different and such... yeah
Angelstarling: Eep! Scared! Lol. You know what? Me too, lol. I have no idea where this story is going... usually I have some idea, but right now I only have like the idea of what's going to happen in the next chapter.... hm, that's probably not good, but we'll see what happens... haha.
Some1: Can I be Some2? Lol. I love my Flames, which is why this fic is moving along so slowly. This chapter took me TWO WHOLE DAYS to write! So you better all be appreciating it! Er! Lol, j/k!