Disclaimer: The grass is green, the sky is blue, I don't own, you don't
sue, my piece of cheese says hi, but alas now I must say goodbye!!
A/N: It's me! After like forever I've decided to update after finding out that I'm on ten people's author alert list just because of the three chapters so far on here so I thought I'd be a dear and write some more. I apologise for the wait you guys! And I've also brought out a new story, Inside Me, so if ya wanna check it out feel free. And those of you who read this and don't review, I know you're there! So review! Even if it's just to say my story sucks big time, that's okay!!! Cos that's what I think. I was reading it over trying to find what you like about it, but to no avail. I detest it! I don't know why, it's probably cos its hard to write. I'm rambling, here goes nothing! It'll be short but sweet guys! No promises!
Chapter Four: Falling
Hermione sat on the plush seat of the Hogwart's Express, her mind going over the last few days' events. Shifting slightly in her red leather seat, he mind drifted back to the party at the hotel...
With an abrupt thump and a splitting pain, Hermione (a/n: Hormone! Lol.) realised she had finally hit the cold ground. She had no immediate clue where she was, but she guessed that she must have fallen through some passage because she could faintly hear dancing music drifting through the wall, or whatever it was.
Then, like a bullet, she remembered that she had not fallen, as she had originally thought in her estranged state. Oh no. Malfoy had pushed her, and he was stood right over her, looming like a stone sculpture, his expression on of power and deepest dislike.
"Get up, I want a word with you."
Who was he to order her around? She was not his sheep dog; she wouldn't do anything for him. But she needed to get up anyway, and grudgingly obliged.
"Good mudblood. You know your rightful position, in the command of someone much more intelligent and powerful, as well as many other things. Now let me-"
"Malfoy! You conceited, big headed, stupid, ignorant jerk! I was not following your so-called orders, I was simply levering myself of the ground which you were responsible for putting me on. And it's Hermione, not mudblood. So there!" She finished, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a child-like manner that a three year old who wasn't allowed a bedtime cookie would.
"As I was saying Hermione," He stressed her name, which she was surprised he even knew how to pronounce, "You have to learn to control that temper of yours. Let me tell you, there are plans for you, plans Granger. You'll be broken in seconds, your chivalry and compassion will mean nothing when the Dark Lord is in power, nothing. It'll be ruled by purebloods, precious Pothead and Weasel will be gone. And you're going to crack under the pressure, Granger, and when you do I'll sit back and watch you do it, maybe even make it worse, twist the knife a little deeper. So learn to respect Ganger, otherwise you won't last long." His mercury pools flashed with malice and his tone held all the way through his speech. By the time he had finished he twirled on his heel and made a start to leave.
Where had the kind and considerate man from lunch- time vanished to? He was a schizophrenic, she was sure of it. Or was it because of her supposed dirty blood? Did it make her so inferior to him that he could not carry out a civil conversation, not have common decency around others? Or was that just his way of scaring her? It worked, by all means. She would have loved to be Marin right now, instead of herself, but Marin Silver was an illusion, a figment of her crazed imagination.
"And by the way, Granger, you put on an impressive show today," At her raised eyebrows and look of confusion he carried on," Marin, Granger. However did you come up with that? It's the Slytherin in you, but Salazar wouldn't want to put the house to shame with you. It was obvious, even Parkinson suspected something. D o try harder next time won't you?"
Her mouth fell to the floor. How had he known? She thought she'd put up an impressive job, but obviously not. But how was it possible that after her considerable change Malfoy knew what she looked like?
"You picture was in Accio magazine a few weeks back, Granger. Don't look so surprised, it was an article about how you seemed to have drifted from you precious Potter and Weasley, and how you've been looking very on the edge these days. Don't look at me in that way Granger, these people are the paparazzi, they follow you everywhere." His eyes glinted and he walked away, lifting the passage entrance and leaving her shell-shocked.
How could she have been so silly? She'd lulled herself into this false sense of reality- and come out of it like a fool. Plus she'd been shown up by Draco Malfoy of all people!!
Hermione sat back in her seat, it had turned out that he'd pushed her behind a tapestry. How childish. But he'd given her some things to think over, and she didn't particularly need any more things to think about, for the day after she had received a flood of letters from her estranged weirdo. She was beginning to suspect, but she couldn't be sure.
Another thing floating around her mind was Harry and Ron. Where were they? She was sat in her usual compartment where they normally rode in, but it just wasn't happening, they weren't coming. They probably forgot, or got in trouble for something, just like them.
Needing the loo, Hermione stepped up, leaving her baggage and Crookshanks, her ever-faithful moggy, in the compartment. She drew the doors shut, clicking the lock with a snap and leaving the room in darkness.
Her ankle boots clicked on the wooden floor as the train shuddered slightly as it went over bumps in the track, or rocks, but she wasn't bothered in what it was. Her hands grabbed on the railing for support as the train let out a violent shudder, and she realised with distain that water droplets were pelting the window outside the corridor, rain. And then she heard footsteps, footsteps that she recognised by memory, and shuddered, shimmering sable pools filling with terror and worry.
"No, no, no. Not here... Oh no..." Hermione whispered her mantra in mumbles, tripping over her words, breath quickening to a frighteningly fast pace as she stumbled towards the back of the train, wand raised.
Now, being in a situation tends to do something to people. It tends to fill their mind with blanks sometimes, their head becoming full of a colour to block everything out. Or useless things fill their head, like that bad turkey sandwich they ate on holiday last year or that loose string on their jacket. The last is the worst where the whole world quickens and you cannot keep up, blood pounds inside one's brain with a pulsating pump and thump and they snap. The last one happened to Hermione.
She stumbled to the end of the train; not even going into any of the compartments which would have been a lot wiser, being with people would make them go away. Her demons and her stalker. But her mind was not on its usual top form, any rational thoughts were blocked up by some strange substance4 in her mind and she was unable to access them.
Her back suddenly hit solid substance, bursting with pain at the contact. She let out a slight noise as she noted this, but didn't stay a second longer. She twirled around, not noticing whether her stalker was still in pursuit, but she had no time for thinking, and thrust the door open. A noise like a crescendo of drums and guitars and wind and rain and thunder hit her ears. This door was the exit to the train, the emergency exit, a small platform with three slight steps at the end for evacuation.
She didn't know what to do, she could she a hooded figure closing in on her. In truth, she had never seen her stalkers face before, but she knew that paining laugh, that confident stride and that click of shoes. She backed up, but suddenly another noise was heard, the hooded figure fleeing and leaving the corridor deserted less one boy, blonde haired and mercury eyed staring at her with eyes like saucers.
" Granger, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Malfoy's voice cracked through her head like a hammer, smashing her out of her thoughts. He approached her, and from behind someone else approached him.
Flash of silver, but not Draco's eyes. Behind him. Knife in hand, shrouded in a black outfit, the click of those boots and the click of the tongue- how had Malfoy not noticed. His pace was quickening. Would Hermione let Draco die? However much she despised him, it wasn't worth his life.
"Malfoy, watch out!" Her voice rang out clear, full of urgency and worry as she stretched out her arm to point behind her. But Malfoy saw nothing, for again there was just him and her.
"Granger, come inside. What the hell are you on about? Shall I take you to see the medi-witch at the front?" His cold demeanour from the party had disappeared and was replaced with something else that was almost like worry. Worry? For her? How strange. Her prime suspect had, unfortunately, just been knocked off top...
"Granger, would you mind telling me what's going on?"
A/N: What did you think? RR cos I love you all! GLOMPS 4 ALL YAY! Heheheheheh. I thought I'd just add that in at the end. Originally this chapter was meant to revolve around the scene in the hotel, but I decided that it would be a very short chapter if that were to happen, and I know you all hate very short chapters so I had to think of something to do.
And I'm going to grovel at your feet once more and apologise forevermore about my tardiness that ended up being months instead of days. I've been so wrapt up in everything other than these days because of everything but , and its kind of saddening to think at one point I almost gave up on this story.
And my other story, Help Me, I Think I'm Falling, is set to be revised and updated by the end of this week. And if you don't mind, please check out my new story you guys!
Until next time,
Cezzy
A/N: It's me! After like forever I've decided to update after finding out that I'm on ten people's author alert list just because of the three chapters so far on here so I thought I'd be a dear and write some more. I apologise for the wait you guys! And I've also brought out a new story, Inside Me, so if ya wanna check it out feel free. And those of you who read this and don't review, I know you're there! So review! Even if it's just to say my story sucks big time, that's okay!!! Cos that's what I think. I was reading it over trying to find what you like about it, but to no avail. I detest it! I don't know why, it's probably cos its hard to write. I'm rambling, here goes nothing! It'll be short but sweet guys! No promises!
Chapter Four: Falling
Hermione sat on the plush seat of the Hogwart's Express, her mind going over the last few days' events. Shifting slightly in her red leather seat, he mind drifted back to the party at the hotel...
With an abrupt thump and a splitting pain, Hermione (a/n: Hormone! Lol.) realised she had finally hit the cold ground. She had no immediate clue where she was, but she guessed that she must have fallen through some passage because she could faintly hear dancing music drifting through the wall, or whatever it was.
Then, like a bullet, she remembered that she had not fallen, as she had originally thought in her estranged state. Oh no. Malfoy had pushed her, and he was stood right over her, looming like a stone sculpture, his expression on of power and deepest dislike.
"Get up, I want a word with you."
Who was he to order her around? She was not his sheep dog; she wouldn't do anything for him. But she needed to get up anyway, and grudgingly obliged.
"Good mudblood. You know your rightful position, in the command of someone much more intelligent and powerful, as well as many other things. Now let me-"
"Malfoy! You conceited, big headed, stupid, ignorant jerk! I was not following your so-called orders, I was simply levering myself of the ground which you were responsible for putting me on. And it's Hermione, not mudblood. So there!" She finished, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a child-like manner that a three year old who wasn't allowed a bedtime cookie would.
"As I was saying Hermione," He stressed her name, which she was surprised he even knew how to pronounce, "You have to learn to control that temper of yours. Let me tell you, there are plans for you, plans Granger. You'll be broken in seconds, your chivalry and compassion will mean nothing when the Dark Lord is in power, nothing. It'll be ruled by purebloods, precious Pothead and Weasel will be gone. And you're going to crack under the pressure, Granger, and when you do I'll sit back and watch you do it, maybe even make it worse, twist the knife a little deeper. So learn to respect Ganger, otherwise you won't last long." His mercury pools flashed with malice and his tone held all the way through his speech. By the time he had finished he twirled on his heel and made a start to leave.
Where had the kind and considerate man from lunch- time vanished to? He was a schizophrenic, she was sure of it. Or was it because of her supposed dirty blood? Did it make her so inferior to him that he could not carry out a civil conversation, not have common decency around others? Or was that just his way of scaring her? It worked, by all means. She would have loved to be Marin right now, instead of herself, but Marin Silver was an illusion, a figment of her crazed imagination.
"And by the way, Granger, you put on an impressive show today," At her raised eyebrows and look of confusion he carried on," Marin, Granger. However did you come up with that? It's the Slytherin in you, but Salazar wouldn't want to put the house to shame with you. It was obvious, even Parkinson suspected something. D o try harder next time won't you?"
Her mouth fell to the floor. How had he known? She thought she'd put up an impressive job, but obviously not. But how was it possible that after her considerable change Malfoy knew what she looked like?
"You picture was in Accio magazine a few weeks back, Granger. Don't look so surprised, it was an article about how you seemed to have drifted from you precious Potter and Weasley, and how you've been looking very on the edge these days. Don't look at me in that way Granger, these people are the paparazzi, they follow you everywhere." His eyes glinted and he walked away, lifting the passage entrance and leaving her shell-shocked.
How could she have been so silly? She'd lulled herself into this false sense of reality- and come out of it like a fool. Plus she'd been shown up by Draco Malfoy of all people!!
Hermione sat back in her seat, it had turned out that he'd pushed her behind a tapestry. How childish. But he'd given her some things to think over, and she didn't particularly need any more things to think about, for the day after she had received a flood of letters from her estranged weirdo. She was beginning to suspect, but she couldn't be sure.
Another thing floating around her mind was Harry and Ron. Where were they? She was sat in her usual compartment where they normally rode in, but it just wasn't happening, they weren't coming. They probably forgot, or got in trouble for something, just like them.
Needing the loo, Hermione stepped up, leaving her baggage and Crookshanks, her ever-faithful moggy, in the compartment. She drew the doors shut, clicking the lock with a snap and leaving the room in darkness.
Her ankle boots clicked on the wooden floor as the train shuddered slightly as it went over bumps in the track, or rocks, but she wasn't bothered in what it was. Her hands grabbed on the railing for support as the train let out a violent shudder, and she realised with distain that water droplets were pelting the window outside the corridor, rain. And then she heard footsteps, footsteps that she recognised by memory, and shuddered, shimmering sable pools filling with terror and worry.
"No, no, no. Not here... Oh no..." Hermione whispered her mantra in mumbles, tripping over her words, breath quickening to a frighteningly fast pace as she stumbled towards the back of the train, wand raised.
Now, being in a situation tends to do something to people. It tends to fill their mind with blanks sometimes, their head becoming full of a colour to block everything out. Or useless things fill their head, like that bad turkey sandwich they ate on holiday last year or that loose string on their jacket. The last is the worst where the whole world quickens and you cannot keep up, blood pounds inside one's brain with a pulsating pump and thump and they snap. The last one happened to Hermione.
She stumbled to the end of the train; not even going into any of the compartments which would have been a lot wiser, being with people would make them go away. Her demons and her stalker. But her mind was not on its usual top form, any rational thoughts were blocked up by some strange substance4 in her mind and she was unable to access them.
Her back suddenly hit solid substance, bursting with pain at the contact. She let out a slight noise as she noted this, but didn't stay a second longer. She twirled around, not noticing whether her stalker was still in pursuit, but she had no time for thinking, and thrust the door open. A noise like a crescendo of drums and guitars and wind and rain and thunder hit her ears. This door was the exit to the train, the emergency exit, a small platform with three slight steps at the end for evacuation.
She didn't know what to do, she could she a hooded figure closing in on her. In truth, she had never seen her stalkers face before, but she knew that paining laugh, that confident stride and that click of shoes. She backed up, but suddenly another noise was heard, the hooded figure fleeing and leaving the corridor deserted less one boy, blonde haired and mercury eyed staring at her with eyes like saucers.
" Granger, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Malfoy's voice cracked through her head like a hammer, smashing her out of her thoughts. He approached her, and from behind someone else approached him.
Flash of silver, but not Draco's eyes. Behind him. Knife in hand, shrouded in a black outfit, the click of those boots and the click of the tongue- how had Malfoy not noticed. His pace was quickening. Would Hermione let Draco die? However much she despised him, it wasn't worth his life.
"Malfoy, watch out!" Her voice rang out clear, full of urgency and worry as she stretched out her arm to point behind her. But Malfoy saw nothing, for again there was just him and her.
"Granger, come inside. What the hell are you on about? Shall I take you to see the medi-witch at the front?" His cold demeanour from the party had disappeared and was replaced with something else that was almost like worry. Worry? For her? How strange. Her prime suspect had, unfortunately, just been knocked off top...
"Granger, would you mind telling me what's going on?"
A/N: What did you think? RR cos I love you all! GLOMPS 4 ALL YAY! Heheheheheh. I thought I'd just add that in at the end. Originally this chapter was meant to revolve around the scene in the hotel, but I decided that it would be a very short chapter if that were to happen, and I know you all hate very short chapters so I had to think of something to do.
And I'm going to grovel at your feet once more and apologise forevermore about my tardiness that ended up being months instead of days. I've been so wrapt up in everything other than these days because of everything but , and its kind of saddening to think at one point I almost gave up on this story.
And my other story, Help Me, I Think I'm Falling, is set to be revised and updated by the end of this week. And if you don't mind, please check out my new story you guys!
Until next time,
Cezzy