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Chapter 12::
Rejection

Hermione felt Draco's lips crashing onto hers in one swift moment. It was a rough kiss; one full of passion and need. Before she could even pull back to slap him, her body gave into temptation; latching itself onto him. What could she say? The guy could kiss! Every part of her was humming with glee, even her lips burning beneath his. She kissed him back and pressed her wet body against his. She could still feel the cool raindrops hitting her face and closed eyelids, but her mind didn't register that. In fact, her mind didn't register anything but the feel of every contour on Draco's body.

Hermione felt her feet walking backwards, felt one of Draco's hands kneading the small of her back while the other tangled in her wet hair. Her back slammed into the trunk of the tree just as Draco slipped his tongue in her mouth. As the heat in their kiss intensified, she couldn't stop the moans that vibrated through her throat. Her nails clawed at his back as he moved from her lips to her neck, nibbling on the tender spots. So much of her body was reacting, radiating heat, that she didn't feel the least bit cold. In fact—if anything—she was starting to get a little overheated.

As Draco started to glide his tongue over her collarbone, he pulled back suddenly, looking deep into her heated eyes. He didn't say anything for a second, just stared with swollen lips and a dripping face. It was almost as if he just awoke from a dream. Hermione's mind slowly came back to her, but not enough to scream at her for her stupidity. All she could do was run her hands up and down his arms, her face slipping into a smirk. Draco, still staring at her with wonder, never moved his hands from their current position.

"Granger?" He asked his voice husky.

"Hmm?" She replied while her lips reached up to kiss his jaw. She was enjoying kissing him too much to stop.

"What are we doing?" His voice vibrated his neck, causing Hermione to playfully nip it.

She gave a sensual laugh, "Snogging, Malfoy. I'm assuming you've done it before since you do it so well."

That was when Hermione did something she probably shouldn't have. Instinctively, she slipped her tongue out, playing it along his ear. A groan slipped through Draco's chest right before he lost his mind. Before Hermione could think, he leaned forward and captured her lips again, lifting her hips so she could wrap her legs around his waist. This kiss was much like the first; filled with fire. A fire so hot Hermione felt like she was burning up from the inside. So, this was what the beginnings of love felt like? She couldn't help but feel a little drunk with giddiness. She wasn't overly happy her first love was with a Slytherin, though.

They continued to kiss, Draco slipping his hands up and under the back of her shirt. It was when he began to run his fingertips down her bare spine that Hermione was starting to tingle. Her body felt as if she were running a marathon—though, in a pleasant way. Locking her legs around him tighter, her arms wrapped around his neck and held on for dear life. None of the other guys she kissed had been like this. Not Ron, not Krum, and not Cormac; they had all felt a little sloppy. This kiss with Draco Malfoy was not sloppy at all.

It was heaven.

At hearing her moans, Draco felt his mind coming back to him slowly. Everything she had said to him before suddenly made perfect sense. He was in love with her. As much as he hated that, he couldn't bring himself to be ashamed of it. For Merlin's sake, he never believed love really existed. Now that it did, he wasn't very sure he could let it go. One thing was for sure, though. He didn't want to lessen it down to a quick shag in the rain.

Taking all of the willpower he had left, he stepped back and let her fall back down to her feet with her arms still around his neck. Breaking the kiss was even more difficult. Her lips were like a bloody drug! "Granger—no, Hermione we have to stop!"

Hermione heard his words, but didn't listen. While he was speaking, she kept laying little kisses against his neck. She was addicted to the way she was feeling. The light-heartedness was something she didn't want to let go of. It had been too long since she had felt last. Hermione feared that if they stopped it now, it wouldn't come back. She needed it; wanted it.

"Hermione, no!" Draco broke free of her, his body shaking with need. Holding her at arm's length, he tried to speak to her without looking into her eyes. They were consumed with such lust that he didn't think he could restrain himself if he did.

Hermione pouted lightly, "Why did we stop?"

He raised an eyebrow. She couldn't have been that obtuse, could she? "Bloody hell, Granger, didn't you notice where that was going?"

She nodded. "Of course."

Now Draco was really confused. "Then why were you letting it go on?"

"Why wouldn't I?" She eyes kept flickering down to his still swollen lips.

"Granger, we about shagged against a tree in full view of prying eyes. Does that really not bother you?" His voice was full surprise.

Sighing, she crossed her arms. The feeling had slipped away, leaving the cold stab of rejection. "It didn't, no. Now that you're making me feel like an utter fool, it does."

Draco scoffed. "Right. I know you, Granger. I know that you are a virgin; the mere fact that you were about to let yourself lose it in a place like this is preposterous."

The rejection grew, consuming her with a blind anger. "Well, I'm sorry you see me that way, Malfoy!"

Draco took a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. "I didn't mean it that way, Granger. Bloody hell, calm down!"

She couldn't calm down. All of the blood seemed to flow to her head at once, causing her to see red. "Why are you suddenly so eager to reject me, Malfoy?!"

His eyes widened in surprise. He never rejected her; in fact, he was just trying to do the gentlemanly thing for once in his life. "I'm not rejecting you!"

She didn't hear him. She was too busy listening to the pounding in her ears. "Oh, I get it! It's because I have cancer, isn't it?"

"What?" He took a step forward. "No, Herm—"

Hermione slapped his hands off of her arm. She was just warming up. "I'm not good enough because I have something wrongwith me. I'm not perfect, so you don't want me! That's it, isn't it!?!"

He was shaking his head with wide eyes. He had no idea where this was coming from. "No, Granger, you're overreacting—"

Hermione, out of blind hatred, slapped him across the face so hard that a red handprint almost immediately lit his pale skin. The vibrations were so fierce that she could feel it deep in her bones. Draco's face flew to the side, the sting bringing tears to his eyes. He couldn't move, his heart still racing from their kisses.

"Overreacting, huh? Am I not acting satisfactory enough for you? Well, excuse me, Malfoy! I'm not some little whore you can have your way with and then dump when you feel like! And I'm deeply sorry that I'm dying, therefore not good enough for you to love!" Her voice was shrill, tears clouding her vision.

Draco watched her walk away with a ringing in his ear and a burning cheek. Funnily enough, he wasn't angry at what she had done. If anything, he was proud. Bloody hell! He was actually proud that Hermione Granger hit him—again! It wasn't the fact that she hit him, though; it was the passion in her eyes. He hadn't seen that passion in her since before the war. Noticing that the rain had stopped and the storm had passed, Draco shook his face and headed back to the dungeons with his hand pressed to his cheek.

Merlin, he needed a cold shower.

'How dare that pathetic ferret do that to me!? I might be dying, but I still have a bloody heart! It can still be broken!' Hermione started to run back to her common room, her knees shaking weakly as her wet shoes squeaked on the stone. 'And to think, I actually thought I was in love with him!'

Making it to her bed, nearly out of breath, she fell onto her mattress without drying herself. The quiet sounds of sleeping girls were still filling the room, along with Ginny's soft snores. The snores weren't anything like Ron's—thank Merlin—and even had a comforting edge to it. Five minutes later, Hermione found it difficult to breathe on her stomach and flipped over. The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon; lighting up the dorm room. After everything that had happened, Hermione just couldn't feel the same joy she normally did every morning. In fact, she just felt cold and unwanted.

With blurry vision and a nauseated feeling, Hermione started to fall asleep. Just before she lost consciousness, however, she saw the heart shaped light on the ceiling staring down at her.

…Two days later…

"Don't forget, these trips to Hogsmeade are a privilege. While most, if not all, of you are of age, you still represent the school. If anything you do makes you look like a bunch of baboons, the school will look more like a zoo then well respected Wizarding School. This is not acceptable, therefore I expect you all to be on your best behavior!"

Hermione stood with her friends, listening to McGonagall's usual Hogsmeade speech. Normally witches and wizards of age could come and go as they please. While they still could, it was required that they submit a written request to their head of house. A fact that Hermione and the majority of the rest of her classmates found completely ridiculous.

"Merlin," Ginny turned to Hermione, Harry, and Ron, "You'd think after all these years that she would give a different speech."

Harry laughed, linking his arm around her neck. "I agree, Gin. I believe I've heard this speech four times now."

Ron chuckled, continuously looking at Hermione from the corner of his eye. He noticed how bad she looked today. Whatever was wrong with her was progressing dangerously fast and he really didn't want her going with them to Hogsmeade. "Hey, Mione?"

Snapping herself out of her train of thought, she looked up at him. "Yes, Ronald?"

He shuffled his feet, desperately not wanting to fight with her. "Uh, don't you think you ought to sit this trip out?"

Hermione looked confused, "What do you mean?"

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione. He, too, noticed how ill and weak she looked today but was shocked to hear that Ron did as well. Perhaps the bloke wasn't as daft as they thought. Though, it didn't take a person of heightened knowledge to see how ill she was. "He's right, Mione. You look like you aren't feeling well."

She frowned. "Well, I feel fine, thank you."

Ginny laid her hand on her best friends arm. "Perhaps they're right, sweetheart. You should stay here and get some sleep—"

"I said I'm fine, Ginny!" Hermione snapped, immediately feeling guilty at the wounded expression on the redhead's face. "Look, I know you guys are just concerned, but trust me. I feel fine. Never better."

They could all tell she was lying and she could see that. But, they let it go anyway. It was obvious that fighting took a lot of energy out of her and they didn't want to make it any worse than it was. Hermione sighed as they started to walk towards the village. Everything they were saying was true. She had awoken that morning feeling worse than she ever had before and that scared her beyond belief. The doctors and healers all said that it was when she woke up and could barely move to use the restroom that she had cause to worry. Well, when she first opened her eyes she could barely move to roll over, let alone use the lou.

Hermione was already fully progressed into her cancer and she knew that. But, she couldn't tell anyone that. The moment she did she would be shipped off to St. Mungo's the first chance they got. She couldn't let that happen; not when she felt as if her purpose here had not yet been fulfilled. So, she pulled her shaking self out of bed and put on clothes for the trip. Hermione just didn't understand. She felt perfectly fine two days ago. Yesterday she might have been feeling a little sluggish, but it wasn't all that terrible. Today, on the other hand, was killing her.

No pun intended.

So, here she was. She was forcing herself to go to Hogsmeade with her friends. If anything, she wanted to see the quaint little village one more time; as well as see her friends truly enjoy themselves again. Although, under all of that, she really wanted to see Draco. After the way she yelled at him two days ago, he'd constantly been on her mind. During classes he wouldn't look at her; just wrote in this bloody book he always carried with him. She didn't know what he was doing and didn't like it. She wanted his attention long enough to apologize, damn it!

By the time they reached the village, Hermione was nauseated and seeing spots; her side aching again. "Hey," she called to her friends, "Why don't you guys go on to Zonko's? I'm going to visit the bookstore, alright?"

Ginny turned, letting go of Harry's hand. "Want me to keep you company?"

Hermione shook her head. She didn't want Ginny to see her like this. "No, I'll be ok. I'll just sit and read a little bit and meet you back at the Three Broomsticks."

Ron nodded his head and grabbed Harry's arm to pull him away. If Hermione said she was going to be okay, she was going to be okay. Harry, being dragged by Ron, grabbed onto Ginny's hand and waved. All the while, he couldn't erase the feeling that something wasn't right. He really didn't want to leave his ailing friend all alone. Ginny just followed, looking over her shoulder every three seconds to make sure Hermione was alright.

Once they were out of sight, Hermione clutched her side and forced herself up the three steps leading to the door of the bookstore. Her hand shook as she turned the knob, shuffling over to the nearest book case once she was in. Sweat was glistening on her forehead by the time she started to look through the titles; not really even seeing them through her dizzy and blurred vision. She just needed to read, she did. The pain would fade once she found a good one. The pain was spreading, taking up her entire side now and reaching over her abdomen. Pulling a random book from the shelf, she open it to the middle in a dire attempt to read, only to have it dropped to the floor as another wave of pain shot through her body. Gasping, she hunched over and tried to breathe.

A voice—one she recognized as the owner of the shop—sounded from her left, "Hermione, dear, are you feeling alright? Do you need help?"

"No, Ma'am." Hermione whispered, shaking her head to try and see straight as her legs shook, "I just need some air. Excuse me."

Hermione slammed the door, nearly falling down the stairs as she climbed down. Looking around, she looked at the few faces around her and the buildings behind them. They were blurred and rotating at an odd angle. The sounds and voices around her weren't making any sense as they skimmed through her mind. The pain hit again, causing her to wobble and lean against the cool wood of the book shop. Her body was wet with fresh sweat. The cool liquid dewing on her forehead was dripping into her eyes, her hair sticking to her face and neck. As another shock ran through her, she hunched over all the way while her stomach lurches violently. Hermione knew she was going to sick before she actually was.

As another sharp pain began, her body lost the battle as her stomach contracted, pushing what little breakfast she'd had back up and then some. Tears burned through her eyes and her nervous system gave out, leaving her weak and empty. Falling to her knees, Hermione kept gagging and dry-hacking until well after her stomach was empty. As her body took every assault one after the other, her mind started to black out, running from the foreign invaders. Slowly beginning to slip from consciousness, she heard a voice above her.

A voice, she found, that was circled in a white light with the most beautiful face in the world.