Absolute Gravity

Chapter Eight: Damaged

A/N: I received the nicest and most flattering reviews last chapter which inspired me to write this much quicker than planned. Also it being a bank holidays and all doesn't hurt.
Song - Cry; Glee version

Whenever I see you,
I'll swallow my pride
and bite my tongue
Pretend I'm okay with it all

Sometimes Draco found himself watching her. He'd be chatting to Pansy about what they were going to do on the weekend and then his eyes would just latch onto her. For only a second or two but in that moment he'd see her smile, except it didn't look real because her lips were stretched too far and not enough teeth were showing. Then he'd look away because that was his fault and every time he thought about it he found it hard to breathe.

He wanted to avoid the Common Room they shared, he wanted to hide from her but if he was going to play his part correctly he couldn't show that he was afraid because in her eyes, he hadn't been hurt by this at all. One time, she came in late, misjudged the step into the Common Room and dropped all her books. He jolted upwards to help her but she quickly caught his eye and the hate in her gaze petrified him.

She really hated him.

More than anyone had ever hated him before. More than Potter or Weasley which hurt even more because she was always the one who stopped them going to far but now she made no move to stop them as they hollered insults towards him or taunted him about his father and sometimes even his mother. Every time he wanted to feel sorry for himself he couldn't because he had no right to. He had thrust this upon himself.

Then there were the times when they had to interact. He dreaded those. Heat would crawl up the back of his neck as he coldly discarded the insulting and cruel words she hurled at him. She had every right to be angry but every time it reached the peak of a fight, the walls she had built would crack and he could see the pain glistening in her eyes. He wanted to break down every time he saw that pain that he caused but he just had to carry on.

'She will be fine with time,' he would say to himself, hoping that one day he'd be convinced.

Hermione nibbled her lip as she looked between her textbooks and the equation on her parchment. She was sure the rearrangement was correct but as usual these days, she was second guessing herself. The only person who could help her, the only person as good as her in Potions was someone she was not going to talk to.

She sighed.

For the "brightest witch of her age" she sure felt stupid. She dropped her head into her hands that were speckled with ink from a long session in the library. She didn't want to think about him. She'd spent many sleepless nights analyzing their every move since the wedding, trying to figure out how he had tricked her so well. She sucked in a long breath, a poor attempt to ward off the incoming tears. How had she even let him get so close to hurt her like this? How long had they been that close? She hadn't even noticed how close they were until he brutally ripped them apart.

A tear dropped and splashed across her parchment causing the ink to splay and morph her equation into something unreadable.

A shallow breath escaped her as she desperately tried to stop the growing flood. Her lungs burned and her eyes stung as she squeezed them shut.

"Granger?"

Hermione jumped at the sound of a curious and vaguely familiar female voice. She hastily brushed away tears and lifted her head. She was startled to see Parkinson looking down at her with an almost concerned expression.

"Is something wrong?" Parkinson asked, slightly unsure of herself.

Hermione opened her mouth but then immediately snapped it shut. She was one of his friends, this was only another low blow. She gathered her things up and threw them into her bag. "I'm not an idiot, Parkinson," she began aggressively, "I'm not falling for that crap again so you can go and tell Malfoy to piss off."

Parkinson even had the nerve to look affronted, she made a move towards Hermione but she stopped her in her tracks, "Look," she warned, "I'm not in the mood to be played with today." The Slytherin frowned and looked puzzled. Hermione immediately dismissed it, if Malfoy could act so could his female counterpart.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and stormed out of the library, leaving the drowned equation on the table.

Draco was skipping stones on the Black Lake. Getting more and more aggressive with every throw. He'd received another letter from his mother encouraging him to spend time with Astoria. The thought of marrying her made him feel helpless which was a feeling he very much hated.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the shrill shriek of, "Draco!" echoed down towards him. He turned, his curiosity peaked by the urgent tone. Pansy was rushing towards him, clutching a piece of parchment in her hand.

Once she reached him he queried, "Pansy, what's wrong?"

"Here," she said breathlessly, pushing the parchment into his hands. Perplexed, he unfolded it. In the middle was something unreadable, damaged by water. He frowned.

"I can't read this. Is this yours? What's this about?" he asked impatiently as nerves started to prick at his skin.

She gave him a fixed look, "It's not mine. It's Granger's."

He faltered, "It's… Granger's?" He looked down at it again. "So…?"

"Why do you think you can't read what she's written?" she asked.

He frowned again, "I…" It was damaged by water. She had been crying. "Why are you showing this to me?" he asked angrily.

"I saw her crying in the library. It wasn't like normal crying. It was painful to listen to and she didn't want to be crying but she couldn't help it," Pansy explained, "So I went up to her to see what was wrong."

"Since when do you talk to Granger?" Draco demanded.

Pansy raised an eyebrow at his tone, "Not all of us are cold-hearted. I could tell there was something seriously wrong." He pressed his lips together, fiercely trying to pretend he didn't care. "When I went to speak to her," she continued, "She suddenly got all defensive and started babbling about how she wasn't in the mood to be played with or something-" Draco stiffened. "-and then she told me to tell you to piss off because she's not falling for that crap again."

There was a long and uncomfortable silence.

"I don't see how-" he started but Pansy cut him off.

"Don't lie to me, Draco. You have clearly done something horrible to her which has made her now think all of us are out to get her. So I wanted to know what the fuck you did to her when you two are meant to be working together," Pansy said angrily.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

"I don't want to tell you." He was horrified at how weak his voice came out.

"Why not?" this question came gentler, she had noticed the change in tone.

"Because once I stop pretending everything is okay, I'm going to break."

Another silence.

"Did you two…?"

He nodded.

"And you pushed her away?"

He nodded again. His eyes were still shut. He didn't want to know what her expression looked like.

"Why?" Pansy implored.

"I'm not good for her," he whispered.

Suddenly, everything changed. He had admitted it. The real reason he had pushed her away, the real reason he had hurt her. Yes, he was following his mother's request but that had only been the motivation for the act that would've come sooner or later.

"Do you love her?"

Silence echoed through the grounds, as if every creature, plant, person and even the breeze had stopped to listen to his answer.

He hadn't even realised he had said a word until his mouth closed again and Pansy had wrapped her arms around him.

"Is it worth it?" she had whispered in his ear before he wrenched away and sprinted towards the castle because he really didn't know anymore.

With every moment they were inching closer and closer to Christmas. Every time Hermione thought about it she felt sick because he'd be getting his badge and he didn't deserve it. She would know and she wouldn't do anything about it. Just another thing dragging her down, making her fall further away from what (as he had accurately said) defined her; being a good person.

That was one thing she didn't understand. If he cared so little for her, how did he know her so well? He knew her in a way that meant he must have taken time to get to know her. She nibbled her lip, something she was doing a lot more now. Or had he just taken a stab in the dark and gotten lucky? Or perhaps she was easy to read and no one else had bothered to express that understanding because it was so obvious.

Her head was beginning to thump, as it usually did whenever she thought about him. Then the portrait door swung open.

He stood there and looked at her. She held his gaze, shivers running along her skin. His eyes were rimmed with red and his grey orbs looked hollow. A frown tugged on her lips and words of concern threatened to escape her mouth.

"You lost, Malfoy?" she asked, pleasantly surprised by the strength of her voice, "One too many Bludgers to the head perhaps?"

He snapped out of his trance and scowled at her, "Don't pretend to understand Quidditch, Granger," and with that he passed by her and up to his room.

Her body shook with the tremors of a sob. She felt self hate cloud her vision. She hated how weak she was, how he had damaged her so thoroughly and how he could wreck her with a single look. But mostly she hated herself.

Draco nervously walked through the hallways. Tonight was the first Prefect meeting they would have to conduct together since their parting. He wasn't exactly sure how to act towards her. He figured he had to be slightly civil (to show he was professional) but still show a distaste towards her. He sighed, his life had become a never ending play. He wasn't even sure who he was anymore.

He reached the classroom. He took a deep breath and opened the door. He gazed upon the prefects. "Where's Granger?"

A plucky prefect stood up, "Not here. She apologized but said she was going out to this important ball with Viktor Krum. You know, her boy-"

"I know who he is," Draco snapped impatiently, "When did she say she was leaving?"

The prefect who had spoken earlier, looked to his friends for support but they had thrown their heads down, avoiding Draco's angry glare. "Uhm… now?"

"Not fucking likely," he growled before storming out of the room.

Hermione placed the final pin in her hair before walking down the stairs. A small, nervous smile played on her lips as she tucked her invitation into her bag. This ball would be a perfect chance to escape his grasp and remember why she had chosen Viktor over him in the first place. She walked towards the fireplace, took a handful of Floo power-

"And where the fuck do you think you're disappearing off to?"

Granger clicked her tongue, "I cleared it with Dumbledore. We both agreed you were capable of handling a few Prefects for the night." She turned to face him, "But if we're wrong, please correct us because I know how much you love doing that."

"It isn't about that!" he yelled, vaguely aware he was letting his emotions get the better of him.

"Well then I don't see what the problem is, Malfoy. I'm going out with my boyfriend and unless you have a problem with me doing that, which I very much doubt, then I will be on my way," she finished angrily.

Irritation was flickering through him, "Well I do have a problem with that."

"Well what the hell is it?!"

"I don't want-" he cut himself off. What was he doing? He wasn't supposed to care. He wasn't supposed to be jealous. He took in a deep breath, steadying himself. "Have fun at your ball, Granger." He turned to leave but her hand flew out, grabbed onto his arm and roughly spun him back around.

"What fucking bullshit was that?" she hissed furiously. Her touch had caused goosebumps to spring up on his arm.

"Forget about it, Granger," he said dismissively.

"I won't! You can't just storm in here have a go at me for something that shouldn't be a problem and then just- ugh! What is wrong with you?" Tears were gathering in her eyes. He hated when she cried.

"I…" he fumbled, he needed an excuse. He needed her to go away, to stop touching him. Oh, her lips were achingly close and that dress…

"You what, Malfoy?" she demanded.

He stood up tall, fixing her a cold look, "I wanted to see if I could still make you squirm." His mouth curved into a unforgiving smirk as he noticed the shiver run down her, "Looks like someone is still harboring feelings for me."

The slap that came next was very much deserved and he was glad she did it. He had needed it.

Is it over yet?
Can I open my eyes?

Review? They give me motivation to write and are much appreciated.