Draco's head felt like it was ready to cave in, sending pulses of bright white lights darting through his brain, flashing behind the closed lid of his eyes just taunting him of the coming day. A low groan scraped the edges of his dry throat, feeling his muscles strain as he stretched his long frame where he laid face first down on the crumpled mass of sheets. Again, Draco made an inaudible sound, stretching his fingers out to grip them into the blankets, rolling his shoulders back to pull his fallen head upwards. It took all the strength that he had at the moment, but he'd managed to pry his lids open enough to see the damning light blinding in as warning before he'd quickly screwed them shut once again, clasping his hands at either side of his head to stop the rapid beating.
Merlin, he knew that he'd had a lot to drink last night but this was a bit ridiculous even for him…and all at once, with that simple, first real thought of the day, Draco's cerulean hues found the strength to drift open once again, slowly scanning the angle of his head to the space of bed beside him. His throat cleared heavily in the room, tearing his sights away from the empty space that sat vacant next to him, once again.
Ever so carefully and slowly did Draco's long legs, still clad in his trousers from the night previously, moved to press down to the foot of the bed, dragging his body upright to turn his eyes away from the runaway space that was from Hermione Granger and instead to drop to the wood planks of his floorboards, dropping his elbows to his knees as he attempted to rub to sleep and strain out of his eyes. Once again, she'd disappeared from his bed, just as she had the last time, and Draco was left with a hallow feeling at her absence. This wasn't normal and it simply wouldn't do but he was irritated, angry, bitter, and ready to throw up for all the same reason.
The last time Granger found her way to his bed, she was still theoretically wrapped on the arm of Weasel, whether the stupid twat of a man deserved her or not so he could vaguely chalk up the fact that she'd run back to her boyfriend. After all, it wasn't the first girl who'd he'd sent back to her significant other the morning after, shrugging out the actions as if they never happened but that little task seemed a little harder to do when the man she was running back to, this time, was the same man who'd battered her physically and emotionally the night previously. For the second time, Draco had given into her and tried to give her what she needed and it still wasn't enough to keep her from walking back to the disaster that brought her to him time and time again. Bare feet settled casually against the chilly wood planks as he pressed to his feet, feeling the pressure beating inside his head down to the bones in his heels as he attempted to straighten himself where he stood, reeling in the hangover from a night that was Hermione Granger.
He needed coffee, and a good remedy potion…and a shower! Draco frowned as he managed to stumble out of his room into the hall, his hand still cupping his head, trying to will away the impending headache that insisted on growing stronger with every step he took. With a harsh wave of his hand, Draco sent the heavy black drapes down amongst any visible window on his slow, dragging walk to the bathroom, trying to snuff away the violent light screaming inside his brain waves. His preoccupation and already sickened state left him unaware of his surroundings a bit too much however for just as Draco turned to enter his bathroom; his body was met sharply with the hard connection of another. Bare feet stumbled back a good step, the formerly squinted hues darting open ferociously at the intrusion before they fell onto her.
There Hermione Granger stood, chocolate hues wide in her startled sights, long curls weighing heavily down her shoulders, deepened into a rich hazelnut with the saturation of water left trailing from the tips down onto her exposed flesh to soak inside the soft towel she held onto. Plush lips were parted silently in her awestruck where her feet had settled her back after Draco plowed into her with her hands clutching a rather large, sage green towel around her frame modestly at the center of her chest.
"God damn, Granger!"
The shocked expression on her face swiftly molded into a rather confused thought before it shaped into a quiet twist of an emotional sadness. Her tone was so quiet on his ears, even in the silence of his apartment, but she'd already had him mentally smacking himself for his reaction before she'd even mentioned a word.
"Sorry…I was just going but my dress is in your room and I don't have any other clothes here…you sent them to my hou…"
This time, Draco actually hit himself in the head. She actually thought he was upset she was still here? For him, it was quite the opposite. Draco was startled to see her, and yes caught off guard, which is not something he commonly liked, but he was thankful to put at ease a few of his own bitter thoughts regarding the alternative.
"Shut up, freckles." And just like that, the calm smirk, the small tug at the corner of his mouth inching it upwards jumped right back into place as he eyed her, standing there dripping with water before him, shivering beneath his rapid mood change.
"What? I just need to get my dress…" Draco lifted his hand dismissively before he settled it to her shoulder, patting it softly as he moved to brush past her and into the mist that remained inside his bathroom, moving swiftly to the large cabinet above his sink.
"To hell with that. And I'm pretty sure I tore it, anyways." His voice was gruff at the back of his throat but there was something so natural in the way he spoke to her now as she moved the tuck the towel around her securely so she too could fold her arms over her chest, standing in the doorway, turning to face him as she rummaged through the shelves, looking rather satisfied once he'd accurately picked the round, squatty bottle of his liking.
"You did not. And we did not do…that so you couldn't have." Hermione answered him bluntly, her brows raised at his statement but he simply plucked the cork free, tossing back a good half of the black swirling liquid and swallowing hard before he could answer her, barely swallowing the liquid without choking as he attempted.
"No, I stripped you, remember?" Draco patted his chest, clearing his throat hard as he moved to hand it out to her, giving a nod with his head for her to take whatever it was that had his face scrunching up like that. "Couldn't find the zipper, I just pulled." Draco paused, watching Hermione hold the bottle before her, frowning at the thought of her dress being destroyed not the mention the implications of his words.
"I liked that dress…jack ass…what is this?" Draco chuckled hard at her response, pointing directly to her as he answered her.
"A potion for that, Miss. Moody Pants." She certainly did not demonstrate her position well as Hermione stamped her foot and set her fists solidly to her hips, clutching the bottle and frowning at him all the while.
"I am not moody, Draco Malfoy. I am hung over. And I'm not even wearing pants."
"Exactly. So take the damn potion, Granger." The smug expression on his face stopped short at the process of the last part of her statement, unable to stop his eyes from drifting down the bare curves of her legs lining down to her feet standing against the marble threshold. No, she was definitely not wearing pants, but he wasn't complaining. "Shall I make a different nick name for you then?"
Hermione downed the rest of the bottle, squinting her eyes, nose, and every muscle of her face all the while she did until it slimmed down her throat and began creeping into her senses. The potion tingled inside her, easing the swell of her brain and leaving a soft sigh falling out of her lips.
"Better, darling?"
"Much." With another satisfied sigh, Hermione placed the empty bottle back on his sink counter, raising a brow to him with a tint of mockery in her voice, "That's the best nick name you could come up with?"
"No but I didn't think you'd appreciate the alternatives."
"Ass!" Hermione swatted him in the center of his bare chest, her own laughter light against her words as he moved to catch her hand, chuckling as she snatched it back with a rather humorous giggle.
"That was one of them! Well, with another adjective or two before it." This was the man that sat with her and let her drink away her sorrows. This was the man that smiled and genuinely acted as if he enjoyed her company. This was the man that allowed her safe haven for reasons she'd truly not understood quite yet. She was quick to jump to the thought that he'd saunter back into Malfoy the second the sun rose and the liquor ran off but once again he'd bested her and remained the same, civil, if not charming, man he'd been portraying himself to be. The normal Malfoy would have ripped her to shreds for intruding on his personal space but then again the normal Malfoy wouldn't have offered her a hangover cure the morning after a very drunken adventure.
"You hungry, freckles?" Hermione's eyes snapped back up to him, waking her from her thoughts as she nodded deeply to him.
"About to eat your arm, hungry." Draco's smile never wavered, laughing a bit under his breath before he too nodded at her as she added, "So why don't you take your adjective ass to that shower so I'm not subjected to cannibalism."
With either arms held out to his sides, Draco bowed his head low as he commented, "Yes, Dear." Hermione had made it halfway into the hallway before she stopped to whirl around just as Draco rose from such a diplomatic gesture.
"Fuck, Draco. You ripped my dress." Chocolate orbs widened in remembrance to her attire situation, sighing her head off to the side as she eyed him a bit exasperated but Draco only shrugged off her frustration, waving a hand as he turned to his shower, set to start the water.
"Go steal some of mine. We can take the bike then." Hermione had nodded quickly before she'd really thought about his words. She gave him a nod in response and whirled back on her steps, moving back to his bedroom before they echoed over in her head. Delicate features inched in against themselves in thought; turning her head to eye Draco in the bathroom over her shoulder a bit but the fierce, startling knock at the door had her jumping round to an all new direction entirely. With her body frozen in the hallway, Hermione's hands instinctively moved to clutch her towel, shooting her sights on Draco who was already pacing out into the hallway suddenly sans pants. Draco peered down the hall momentarily to the door before he turned to her as she shrugged her shoulders with wide eyes. After all, this was his home, how was she to know who would visit him? As of a week or so ago, she wasn't even on that list. Light brows closed in together, his hands brushing reassuringly, for what reason she wasn't sure, off of her shoulder as he smoothed by to set his path and sights to the intrusive knocking that did not seem to be stopping.
Clad now only in a pair of black boxer briefs, tightly hugging against him in all the right places, Malfoy quietly moved to peer out the eye hole but whatever it was he was looking out to in the hallway on the other side was leaving him a bit rigid. Hermione watched the muscles of his body twitch as he lowered himself away from the door with swift silence, whisking back to her so quickly that she had to adopt his own startled expression as he coarsely whispered out to her, "It's bloody Potter." Hermione said nothing for a moment, a bit confused as to what he meant. Certainly Harry wouldn't be here, at Malfoy's, right?
"It's bleeding Potter, Granger!" His whisper became a bit harsher than he'd intended and Hermione jumped at the realization that this was indeed happening.
"Oh my god…"
"Granger, go." Draco motioned with his head to go hide herself… in the bathroom, in the bedroom, it didn't matter! He was a bit frantic, trying not to appear frantic as she just stood there, shocked still on her feet that were about to start growing roots if she didn't make haste.
"Granger!" Draco had made it back half way to the door before he whipped back to see her still standing frozen but his command snapped her quickly into gear. Her feet padded along the wood with soft thuds, darting down the hall as quick as she could scurry. With one hand clad around her towel, her opposite flung open the farthest door on the right, tossing herself in the darkness and clicking it closed rather abruptly just as Draco flung his own front door open into the hall. Pale lips pulled back to bare her teeth, wincing at the noise she'd just made, hoping it'd go unnoticed as she slunk back from the door at the sound of footsteps heavily stomping inside and the door slamming closed behind them.
There was a lot of mumbling going on. Why did she have to run to the end of the hall? Now she could barely make out what they were saying but she could hear the tone Harry was speaking in and it didn't sound joyful.
"If she's not with you then where is she, Malfoy?"
This was really bad. She'd done such a good job letting herself forget about her problems that she hadn't even thought about the fact that her friends would never allow such a thing to happen. She was stupid to think that Harry wouldn't have come looking for her after she'd left him without explanation in the middle of his party looking like a battered housewife. Hermione raised her hand gingerly to her cheek, wincing once again in the darkness at the stinging emitted back to her senses when her fingers brushed over the swollen bone. It seemed Pansy's charms had worn off entirely much as she was sure her own charms were wearing off on Malfoy right about now. She wanted to run out and tell Harry everything but she just couldn't. All Hermione could do was stand there in the darkness, wanting to hide herself away from everything and wanting to start forgetting the way Malfoy allowed her to.
"Like I told you, Potter, I have no clue. Should probably keep better tabs on your so called friends, hm?" Hermione was straining to hear them now, pressed against the door. Draco sounded so bitter to her now, no longer drawling his words with unconcern but what did she really expect when his loathed enemy for seven years was standing in his own home accusing him of Merlin only knew what.
"Sod off, Malfoy! You're a fucking liar!"
Draco chuckled lowly before he added, "Like I care what you think, Potter."
"So you just ran into her and she asked you, Draco Malfoy, to take her to a party? So out of the what? The sheer goodness of your heart you just decide to take her and then part your separate ways?"
"Did you lose your hearing, Potter? I already told you that, three times now. And truly, I hate repeating myself so can we wrap this up? I'm not fond of standing around half naked with another man." Draco's hues rose wide as Harry continued to drone on question after question with the terrible, up ward inflection.
Hermione heard something rustling and then a soft plop of an item landing down against something before Harry continued damn near shouting on, "Then what the fuck is this?" The talking went silent for a moment; no one said anything but Hermione could feel the tension all the way from where she hid in the blackness. Draco cleared his throat, his tone a bit more refined before he answered Harry.
"As much as I enjoy new dribble, I also do not wish to read the morning paper, again, half naked with you, Potter, so thanks, I'm sure I'll enjoy the article later, probably next to one about how you might be a bit queer like the one I read last week, but Granger is still not here."
Harry was beyond himself and Hermione could feel that vein in his temple throbbing in her own veins. The second he'd seen Hermione disappear in the arms of Malfoy, his night had been shot. Both he and Ginny had left the party shortly after to aparate back to the manor to find a rather grief stricken Ron on his knees in the hall. Thankfully, by the time Harry and Ginny had found him, Ron had managed to dress himself but he sat sunken on his knees looking awestruck and wounded, ready for enveloping arms of comfort and love when they'd ran to find him set there. There were a lot of 'well, you see's' that stammered from the red heads mouth but Ginny was on him like a moth on a flame, drilling him for answers with a ferociousness that only a woman Weasley could possess. She'd managed to get him to sob out that he and Hermione had broken up, that they had gotten into a rather heated fight but he'd done every trick in the book to avoid answering anything else. It was then that Ginny had lost her patience for her own brother, setting her sights to seek out her friend but she was nowhere to be found.
She hadn't went home to her parents, she hadn't went to the burrow, the cauldron, the three broomsticks, or her favorite book store…eventually they gave up and returned back to the party, hoping she'd find her way back. When she never did, Harry found himself here, at Malfoy's door, equipped with a rather intimate article in the daily prophet dreamily describing the playful demeanor between the Prince of Slytherin and the Gryffindor Goddess the night prior and just littered with live action photo reels broadcasting the two of them in the night but Malfoy too, like Ronald, refused to say a word. He just stood there ignoring Harry without as much as a blink to the evidence in front of him. Harry had no idea what it was that had his two best friends parting ways but after all those fights, Harry was starting to have a sinking suspicion that perhaps it all did root from the pureblood preacher before him.
Harry slowly pushed his glasses up the brim of his nose, his emerald hues dead set against Draco in their fierce stare off, "I swear to God, Malfoy, if you did something to her…" Before Harry could even finish trailing off Hermione felt herself wince internally. It was like a ticking time bomb that she'd just watched the countdown run out on in Malfoy's brain. She felt the fuse tick and blow just as his cold laughter echoed down the hall.
"If I did something to her? If I did something to her?" Hermione held her head in her hands, her breath caught in her throat. Her mind was flipping so quickly along with her rapidly racing pulse and she was suddenly fighting the urge to burst from the room and cover Malfoy's mouth before he could tell Harry everything before she could in her own words.
"You really are a bloody imbecile, Potter, you really are." Draco turned coldly, flipping the Daily Prophet over on the table as he did, tossing over his shoulder as he continued, "Why don't you go have this talk with Weasley. I feel your efforts are misguided."
"What did you say to me?"
"You heard me, Potter." Draco's words were becoming venomous. He'd had enough of this. The entire night all he'd wanted to do was rip the very man in question limb from limb, finding himself at the end of the bottle to dwell down the hatred. Seeing Hermione's purple face this morning certainly did not help but having Potter staring him down, yelling at him the same words he shouldn't have been blind enough not to use on his very own friend was the straw to break his back.
"Oh no? You're such a good friend to be out looking for her, huh? Why don't you be a good boy and start from the beginning. Why don't you go ask Weasel why it is exactly your friend went crying into the night in the first place? Have no idea do you?" Draco really wasn't giving Harry a chance to respond, watching the dumbfounded look on his face as he stalked around eerily in front of him, pacing a bit to keep himself the slightest bit in check.
"What the fuck are you on about, Malfoy?" Harry was thoroughly confused but hearing Draco Malfoy talk about Hermione like he knew her so well was unsettling at best but Draco just scoffed; sneering all the while he answered Harry.
"Ronald Weasley is nothing more than a greedy, selfish, disgusting low life. He's a bloody coward, Potter. If you're too dense to go have the chat that needs to be had with him, that's plenty fine by me, I'm quite thrilled to take up the role, but as it stands, your friend is still not taking residence in my home and neither should you be…so get out."
Hermione stood pressed still in her position with her face and hands flat on the door, straining against the wood but she heard nothing. She was greeted with nothing but the cold silence of the door answering her back and the soft thump of blood throbbing in her own ear until the soft click of the door closed suddenly. Hermione jumped from the door, her hands covering her mouth at the footsteps slowly making way down the hall. Quietly the door pulled open, the light filling so quickly she had to squint to keep herself from screaming but the body said nothing. A single lid squinted open, eyeing the tall figure until her sights settled on Draco's pursed lip expression.
"This is really bad…"
"Forget it."
"How bad was the paper?" Hermione hadn't moved from where she stood in the center of the room, her hands on either side of her face, watching him wearily as she questions him on what she'd assumed Harry must have brought. Perhaps she'd get lucky and he'd tell her he had no idea what she was talking about still…
"I probably shouldn't answer that…" So much for that.
With much persuading and much reassuring, Draco managed to leave Hermione with the very paper that was causing such a fuss while he left to clean himself up. She'd done everything in her power to make every known excuse in the book to leave the moment Potter had disappeared but Draco had somehow managed to convince her that she had no reason to be running to them. The truth of the matter was that they all should have been running to her.
Glumly, Hermione had managed to pull on a pair of Draco's old Quidditch sweats, finding their oversized weight comforting in the complicated mess that she was in. Two cups of tea and seventy five times reading the front page splay about her and Draco's late night adventures, Draco had finally finished showering and dressing himself into something modest before he emerged into the kitchen to find her still sitting cross legged at the large, overly carved wooden table in the corner of the room. She was still resting in her chair, her elbows pressing down into the top of the table, glaring at the pages like it could honestly sense her anger towards it.
"Stare at that thing any harder and you might force yourself to learn a bit of wandless magic…set it aflame." Draco mused, much to her unamusement, as he stepped through the room, turning his head before he could witness the sharply addressed stare she'd set to the center of his forehead.
She hadn't remembered anyone taking pictures of them last night but she certainly didn't seem to mind last night either from the way she looked in them. As a matter of fact, Hermione looked as though she'd downright posed for half of them! Her eyes danced on the photo of Draco resting his arm around the back of her waist, waltzing out of some club and into the streets, laughing together with a bottle of liquor hanging from the tips of Malfoy's fingers. It only made matters worse when she'd turned, smiled, and actually waved at the flashing camera before she and Draco disappeared off into the night and the reel quickly restarted again. There was a decent photo of the two of them dancing, a shot of them standing a bit too close and sharing a cigarette out on the balcony, and even a shot of him fixing her shoe strap when she'd nearly fallen out of it, on bended knee as she held his arm for support. It was a lot of damning evidence all at once…and the article certainly didn't make the evil appearance any more holy.
They made sure to joke about how she'd crossed over to the dark side, switched brains and even so far as to say she was purposely dating Draco to take attention away from Harry winning the war. Can you imagine? Of course they also speculated if it was Draco that had turned sides as he cuddled close to the Gryffindor princess, wondering if his chivalrous acts were the new and improved Malfoy at her magical hands.
"I warned you, freckles." Hermione frowned even with her face locked into the Daily Prophet's scribblings, scowling a bit as she managed to detract herself long enough to toss her head around her shoulder to roll her eyes at him while he moved to pour himself a cup of tea.
"Do you understand how bad this looks?"
"Who cares?" Draco mocked her own tone of voice, taking a small sip of the warm liquid before he'd even set the kettle back along the stove, watching as she turned in her chair to focus her murderous glare at him more suitably as he continued, "He's the one that hurt you if you don't remember. I'm not sure why you think I'm supposed to start caring about the son of a bitch that…"
"Stop…Ron deserves to feel like a piece of crap because he is but because of this…because of this!" Hermione stamped the tip of her forefinger down on the paper to emphasize her point before she continued, "Now because of this, Ron is going to think that I really have been shagging you behind his back this whore time so he'll be all 'Oh wah, you're a big cheater too! Screw you Karma!' and it's not even true!" Her hand slammed down now as she rose abruptly to her feet, the chair groaning along the marble tiles.
Draco's stare was much softer than her own while it started growing wild but he certainly wasn't amused with her words. "What kind of a man cheats on…" Draco paused with a bit of a snarl, "…woman like you with a fucking slag and then has the audacity to harm her?"
"I need to go talk to Ginny. Explain things."
"You can't be serious…Seriously? You seriously want to go to Weasley Manor?"
Hermione folded her arms, the large sleeves of his sweatshirt hanging over top of her hands and poking out the small spaces at the corners of her arms. "Don't even start with me, Malfoy! These are my friends were talking about…thinking I'm a big floozy…and it's not even like that! I have never cheated on Ron and you don't even like me."
"Well if they are really your friends and know you like you claim they do, Hermione, than they won't think you're a big floozy as you so eloquently put it now would they?" Draco moved to set his tea cup down on the counter, frowning as he whipped back around to face her, "And who said I don't like you? I mean, have you even been here the last few days?"
"Oh shut up, Draco. I know you like me…" Those deep chocolate hues rolled fiercely as she scoffed out, "I meant you don't want me like how they think you want me. Or everyone. Oh I don't know, just shut up, Draco."
"Who said?"
"You!" Hermione tossed her arms up in the air rather annoyed as she moved to stand before him, her hair dripping wet against the pale grey sweats, staining it a deeper shade as it did. "You did, Draco Malfoy, when you stopped me from kissing you."
"You were bleeding drunk." Draco was short in his response, watching her become more and more irritated as she attempted not to appear bothered at all but Draco only grew calmer, folding his arms and raising his brow daftly before he continued at her obvious disapproval of his previous submitted answer. "You had just broken up with your boyfriend; I didn't think it was right to take advantage of you. Then."
Hermione shifted her weight onto either side of her hips, rather unsure just what exactly she wanted to do now with his words lingering in the air. He wasn't supposed to say that. He was supposed to say, 'no, Hermione, I don't want you, you are correct, as always.' Well, alright, that was a fantasy a bit but she certainly was unprepared for him to say that. If she was honest with herself, she'd admit that she was far out of her mind with liquor when she'd made an attempt to kiss the poisonous mouth of Draco Malfoy but she found in the morning she was a bit more stunned at his denial. Even as she stood in his shower rinsing the lingering stench of cigarettes, liquor, and sin out of her hair, she could only mentally scold herself for assuming Malfoy had ever even considered such thoughts about her. She'd spent the better part of a summer thinking, wondering about him so she convinced herself it was only natural that, considering his unusually hospitable demeanor, she'd read far further into things than she should have or was prepared to. For the entire wake of her morning, Hermione beat her brain up inside her skull; reminding herself far too much of that horrible muggle move "He's Just Not That Into You."
While she went on a mental rant of lashing herself for her quick jumping thoughts, she physically found herself smacking her head at the idea that she even cared whether Malfoy wanted her at all. The love of her life, her boyfriend and best mate for countless years had just broken up with her for another woman and here she was trying to make a move on the nearest thing with a third leg that showed her a bit of decency. That was what this was, wasn't it? Well, whatever it was, Malfoy had just flipped the score and very bluntly confessed the reason for his coyness in the evening hours while he stood there unaffected in front of her, watching her like a hawk ready to rip into its prey.
"Oh." It wasn't the best answer but it was all she had. Draco's pale hues watched her still, a bit bloodshot even as they narrowed in the wavering, rising light pattering through the room, locking onto her and setting a straight path through her, crossly questioning her from his feet of space.
"Do you come with an instruction manual, Granger? I mean really…please help me understand where I've messed up this time." The low scruffiness of his voice was beginning to sooth at the edges as he lifted his hands in his bafflement, slapping his sides when they fell slack. Deep chocolate specks shaded a hair or two darker when Hermione rolled them hard into the back of her head, scrunching her nose and glaring hard through his own set scowl at his dramatics.
"Because this is too complicated. It's all…complicated."
"It's complicated? Really, freckles? That's the best you've got?" It was Draco's turn to roll his eyes, giving his head a small flick back before he tossed his hands up to comb through his hair, trying to calm the rising fire smoking deep within him. "I asked you to come see me and you did. We went out, we had a good time, and we came back to rest. That is not complicated, Granger." Long, slender fingers brushed through the short strands, lacing together to rest his head back along the weave, watching her all the while but Hermione thrust her forefinger up into the air with counter along with her slender brows as she butted in.
"Ah, but I had a boyfriend then, Malfoy so therefore all of that was complicated because…"
"No, you having a boyfriend at the time had and has nothing to do with this, Hermione." His hands slid from his head in one fluid motion, taking a step forward so slowly that Hermione felt the need to draw her own an inch back. "Admit it."
"What do you want from me, Draco?" Hermione was so bewildered being caught in Malfoy's cross hairs that she didn't know how else to react except like that of a cat backed into the corner: with her claws out. Her tone raised a note of two higher, shaking her head at him as she whirled around in a fanfare of hair to turn her back against his heated stares. "Maybe all those accusations have played with my head but this…" Hermione turned with enough time to motion between the two of them, "…this can't happen. Whatever the hell this is!"
"How can you tell me it won't happen when you don't even know what this is…or could be." Draco advanced slowly on her, watching her turn her eyes to the ground as she stubbornly folded her arms a crossed her chest. Those storming sapphire hues watched her down the pristine curve of his nose from his towering height, nearly scoffing at the sight. "You're scared."
"I'm scared?" Funny how they repeated themselves when they knew the other was right. Hermione's eyes grew wide, readying to smack that smug, condescending look right off his arrogant face but she had a full line of words ready to part her lips first. "Scared of what? That my friends are going to think I've lost my mind? That I'm using you to get back at Ronald? That you're using me to get back at daddy?"
"Watch it, freckles." Draco's tone dropped drastically, damn near threatening but he always chose to call her that blasted nickname like he was attempting to reassure her he'd do no real harm.
"What am I scared of, Draco Malfoy? Because I'm pretty sure you've also been on that list."
"You're scared of wanting to be here, Granger. Wanting to be with me instead of him, like everyone thinks you're supposed to be." He'd had just about enough of her ranting now, standing before her, shouting back and forth in the wee morning hours after a rather obnoxious greeting from the wonder boy. "You are scared that you could be happy, which is the stupidest thing that I've ever had to think about you, for the record."
"I am not scared to be happy."
"Oh shut up, Granger. You are too. Why else would you run back to a coward that beats you?" Draco had already turned his back on Hermione's pout but he sure managed to toss a rather bitter glare a crossed his shoulder as he let out that little mental hand grenade. Hermione stood rigid as it blew in her neurons, drawing her expression back sharply like he'd just struck her in the face but he turned on his heels to face her once again, continuing the arsenal even while she was still attempting to recover. "I'm sorry…did you think I really didn't know? Honestly? Come on…I know that's not the first time he's put his hands on you, in one way or another but for you, I've kept my bleeding mouth shut about it but U can't stand on the side lines and do that when you keep running back again and again…no, sorry, Granger. You don't want to be here with me? Fine, but do not lower yourself enough to that. It's beneath you and it physically makes me ill."
"I thought I was beneath you, Malfoy. Mudblood and all." His surname snarled from her lips as Hermione bared her teeth venomously, her hands set on her hips, standing off against him but he only tossed his hand up and snorted with indifference.
"Yes, Granger, I'm the monster here. How low I make you feel in my arms." Hermione too tossed her hand up at the sarcasm dripping off every syllable out of his mouth. "You are the only woman to ever set foot, hand, or toe on that bed, on my personal bed, and the only woman I've asked to stay in it. You are the only woman who has run out on me after I've done so as well…but I'm the bad guy here?"
This was getting far out of control. He was animatedly tossing his hands as they both yelled at each other but for what reason anymore he reason wasn't sure. He was growing heated over the thought of her being anyway near Weasley when his mouth started to rant much more than it needed to. It had taken every ounce of sheer will power but Draco had managed to say no to her for the better purpose last night, or so he'd told himself it would be, but now he was scrambling trying to understand just what that big picture was now. At first he just wanted her out of his head, out of his dreams and out of his thoughts but then he began simply wanting to be around her, keep her out of harm once again. It seemed harmless enough in his head at the time but honestly, Draco couldn't contemplate whether or not he simply wanted Granger on the physical aspect, like he'd been hoping this was the underlining problem, or whether he truly wanted to be with her but he certainly did know that he did not want Weasley to do either of the aforementioned things with her either.
"You're no better than him. Standing here, telling me what I should and shouldn't be doing but you don't even know what the hell you want." The short, petite framed woman deftly raised her chin to him, looking down her own nose against his holier than though attitude as caught him in her sights. "Tell you what, Malfoy…I've decided that I don't need indecisive people complicating my life. I think I've had quite enough of that and I think after I sort out the clutter after those complications are gone that my life will be all too happy."
"That's your decision?" She was fully expecting a good yell or two but Draco stood firmly, moving to fold his arms coldly over the taut muscles of his chest as Hermione nearly laughed in sheer exhaustion of the argument.
"Yes! I don't need this."
"Fine then, Granger."
"Fine."
As much as she wanted nothing more than to punch a hole square through Draco's forehead, Hermione scowled, frowned, and stomped herself around from the vision of his stoic holding features now, boring a hole right back into her. The moment she'd abruptly turned to storm from the very room, however, she found her shoulders slumping a bit as the confusion of it all began to sting into her veins. Her anger was quickly turning to awkwardness right before her very own eyes, tilting her chin a crossed her shoulder with the oddity trapping against the words falling from her tongue.
"You know that I've got to go, Draco." Draco only stood tall where he'd remained with his arms loose over his chest, watching her beneath his lifted brows, statuesquely loaming in her near distance but he only stared, hard and cold as he commented.
"Then leave." He sounded so very Malfoy in that moment, his tone slicing through her veins and finding its way to leak into her nagging senses. She had never been too sure what she had done so far to earn Malfoy's unbelievably welcoming attitude as of late but she was pretty sure that she'd just slung it all into the mud with the way he'd sauntered into his bitter persona so quickly.
Alright! It's a little short but here's chapter 7! I was going to wait and post this with the other part of this chapter but I felt it really wasn't necessary looking it over and decided to split it up.
Next part will be up soon. Enjoy!
