Authors note: I know several reviews that have liked my story but said it was moving too fast. Thanks for the great advice, if you wish so please comment what you think I should do to slow it down a little bit. This is mainly a filler chapter as to why Draco is behaving so unlike Draco. It is quite short but it is just filler. Do you want me to change the other chapters or anything like that? In response to one review, Hermione was reacting because she accidently caused harm to her mate, this may have a profound effect on veela. This chap will be a bit painful to read; Draco may or may not be having an epiphany…
Likerofwhatsnerdy
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-Hermione POV-
I awoke with a start. I was back in my own bed and I didn't know why. I walked over to my dressing table and picked up the silver-backed hairbrush, I began to methodically tame my not so bushy locks. Humming softly I exited the room. Draco was sitting on one of the cream sofas. He scowled when he saw me. It felt like someone had just stabbed me in the gut. "Draco, what's wrong?"
"What's wrong is you, you filthy little Mudblood!" He snarled. They were twisting the knife." Do you really think I was in love with you? It was a dare by one of my pathetic friends who thought it would be funny to see you crash and burn and let me tell you, it was very, very funny!" He smiled harshly, revelling in my agony. I looked into the eyes of who had stabbed me; it wasn't the Draco who I had seen the last two days. This Draco's eyes were cold, unforgiving and harsh; they were the old Draco's eyes. I could feel, not just my heart, but my whole soul splitting and shattering into a million pieces. The only thing I could feel was plain, ear-splitting agony. No, forget ear-splitting, agonising soul shattering pain. This pain was a whole kind of new, it tore my heart apart. It was whole and raw, like rubbing salt on a gaping wound, right where your heart used to be. I sank to the floor screaming. It felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside out. I saw Draco storm out of the room in disgust. It only plunged the knife in deeper. Hot, angry tears were running down my cheeks. I couldn't stop screaming. It felt even worse when I tried to stand up. Slowly, whilst enduring agonising pain I staggered to my room. I collapsed on to the floor, while gulping a vial of potion left on my desk. The pain increased ten-fold and then abruptly, stopped. I felt, normal, well as normal as you could get having endured the most painful torture ever imagined. Then everything went black.