Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I never will!
A/N: Id like to thank my wonderful reviewers for reviewing and being ever so kind! I have recognized you:
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The look of lve
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And for all you people out there who are wondering when the bruises come in, just be patient. They will soon make an appearance!
I was thinking about Draco as Dumbledore said his usual speech. Gryffindor had a lot of new students.
"So," Ron said, looking up from his fried chicken.
"Yeah?" I asked, still not all there.
"You swear you'll tell us if Ferret-Boy tries anything on you, right?" Ron demanded, sounding as though he knew something was going to happen.
"Of course!" I exclaimed defensively.
I walked out of the Great Hall, not feeling very hungry. As I walked up to the Common Room, I noticed a lot of other friends that I knew. They were mainly sixth years that didn't eat much. As I approached the Portrait Hole, I realized that I didn't know the password. So I walked downstairs to the lake.
The moonlight reflected on the water, casting a beautiful glow on the entire lake. I approached it gracefully, now feeling pressure against the back of my eyes. Before I could stop myself, I could feel tears streaming down my face. I sat down and wrapped my arms around my knees, burying my face into my arms as the tears flowed down my face.
When I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, I was startled, so I looked up quickly.
"M-Malfoy?" I asked, confused.
"Come on," he whispered quietly. "We need to go to the Common Room."
"W-Why?" I asked, wiping away the tears that now stained my face.
"So we'll know the password," he said softly.
"O-Oh," I sniffed, standing up.
Why is he being so nice? I thought. I followed him back to our Portrait. I noticed now that it was a picture of a Chocolate Pop-Tart. When I saw this, I giggled. There was a little stick figure child hiding behind the Pop-Tart who jumped out and demanded in a squeaky voice,
"Password?"
"Ummm..." Draco trailed off.
"You two must agree on a Password before you can go in. And it cannot be changed without both of your consents," came a deep voice from behind. It was Dumbledore.
"Okay, thank-you Professor," I said, sadness still making my voice crack.
"Have a good night," Dumbledore said before leaving.
"Okay, so what should it be?" Draco asked.
"How about 'lume di luna'?" I suggested.
"What did you say?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It's Italian for 'moonlight'," I replied.
"Moonlight? Why that?" he asked with a smirk.
"Because, it's romantic and it's nighttime and I'm tired," I said, half smiling.
"Oh. How do you say it again?" He asked, obviously confused.
"'Lume di luna'," I laughed.
"Okay. 'lume di luna' it is," he grinned.
We said it in unison and entered our new common room. There was a two person sofa in the middle of the room. It was black with gold trim. There were two separate rocker recliner chairs about three feet away on either side of the couch. One was lavender with a black trim. The other one was black with azure trim. There was a single rug in front of the chairs and sofa that was black with a lavender trim.
As the two of us walked upstairs, we saw three doors. The one on the left was black with lavender letters on it that spelled out: HERMIONE. Under that in a darker shade of violet were letters that spelled out:MISTERIOSO NOTTURNO FANCIULLA.
The door in the middle was a plain, dark brown, door with nothing on it. I assumed this was the restroom.
The door on the right was black with silver letters on it that spelled out: DRACO. Under that in a darker shade of silver were letters that spelled out: SOLITAIRE ENFANT.
I did not know the foreign language on his door. I opened the door to my room and stepped inside. It was a large, bare room with no furniture in it. In fact, it was completely empty. I looked around for some sort of explanation, and found it scrawled on one of the four walls. It said: Just picture exactly what you want your room to look like and it will become just that. Only you can control your room, and are allowed to make changes as you see fit.
As soon as I had finished reading it, the message disappeared. I thought long and hard, and finally came upon my perfect bedroom. Suddenly, everything from my mind became my reality.
On the wall opposite where I was standing, centered, was a lavender and black canopy bed with curtains. To the left of the bed was a huge, bay window. It wasn't a magical window. It was just your ordinary window from the muggle world. Facing the window was a desk with three drawers on either side and a smooth, black, marble surface. There was the book that I was currently reading in the upper right hand corner. There was blank notebook paper in a tray that was centered on the upper part of the desk. And in the upper left hand corner was a tray filled with parchment. In the bottom left hand corner was a bottle of black ink. In the bottom right hand corner was a pencil box with at least 20 mechanical pencils, 25 different colored pens and at least 30 different colored, colored pencils.
To the right of the bed was a door that led into a walk-in closet that housed all of Hermione's clothes and many shoes.
And right beside the bed, on either side, were two, small night stands. The one on the right simply housed a lamp and a drawer. The one on the left had an alarm clock and no drawers.
The night stand that had the drawer, had a magic, voice activated lock on it. It was keyed to my voice, so that nobody else could get inside. And in my hand appeared a small, lavender marble box that had the exact type of lock that the drawer had, but with a different password. Both passwords were Italian.
The walls were black with lavender stars on them.
And, as a final touch, I added a lavender smell to the room as well.
Happy with what I had done, I smiled and nodded to myself. I carefully said the password to the drawer and put the box into it. I sealed it and locked it again.
As I turned around, I saw Draco leaning against my doorframe, my open door nowhere to be seen.
He was smirking.
"Nice room," he said, his smirk still in place.
"Thanks," I said, almost asking.
"So," he said, entering my room. I could now see my door, which he shut as he entered. He sat down on my bed, patting the spot beside him, as if asking me to sit down beside him.
"Yeah?" I asked, obeying his request.
"Why were you crying earlier?" His smirk had disappeared and concern filled his grey eyes.
'Why should I tell you? So you can go and tell your gay Slytherin cronies and laugh at me when I pass by?" I said, anger filling my voice, by depression twinged inside of me.
"No," he said softly.
"No?" I asked, shocked.
"No," he repeated. "I'm not like that anymore. I'm not that mean. Not since my dad died and my mum was sent to Azkaban," he explained.
"How do I know that you're not lying?" I demanded.
"Because, I'm not," he said quietly. "Hermione," he added.
I stared in shock. My hair fell onto my face and I had to push it behind my ears. He-He had just called me by my first name!
He reached for my hand, but I moved it too quickly, so he ended up accidentally grabbing my arm. I ripped away from his grip and winced in pain.
He must have seen me, because he asked, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"
"No, No. You d-didn't hurt me," I assured him hurriedly.
"Please tell me," He pleaded.
I shook my head. "There's nothing to tell," I tried to assure him.
But he went for my arm again, this time grabbing it before I could get away. He held it tight enough where it only hurt a little, but I could not break free from his grasp.
He pulled my sleeve up and gasped.
He had revealed several bruises that started up wrist, but continued on up to my shoulder.
"Are-Are these the only ones?" he asked quietly and solemnly.
I shook my head as tears began to pour down my face. "N-No," I replied, sobbing.
He let go of my arm and pulled me into an unsuspected hug. He was very gentle. I buried my face in his chest as he held me close and sobbed.
I don't why I did, but I did.
He was stroking my hair as I sobbed.
And there the two of us sat. On my black and lavender bedspread with my head buried in his chest and me sobbing, while he stroked my hair.
A few minutes later, he pulled me into a sitting position and asked me into a serious, but gentle whisper,
"Who?"
A/N: I know, it took me long enough! But this is a longer chapter I think. So I left you with a semi-cliffie. And, to those who do not speak Latin or Italian, here are the definitions for the words:
MISTERIOSO- ITALIAN- Mysterious
NOTTURNO- ITALIAN- Night
FANCIULLA- ITALIAN- Child
SOLITAIRE- LATIN- Lonely
ENFANT- LATIN- Child