Chapter 5
A couple of weeks went by before Draco finally found himself under the frail frame of Hermione in the middle of the room for the fourth time on a Tuesday lunchtime. Panting Hermione sat up as Draco rolled his head back.
"Am I ever going to master this?" Draco sighed frustratedly. "This is pointless, you are too good."
"You just need more practice. Speed and skill, that's my secret. Plus I've been doing self defence for a lot longer than you."
On this note Dracos brow furrowed once more pondering on why Hermione started the defensive practices.
"Hermione" he questioned as he raised himself up on to his elbows. "Where did all those cuts come from? Across your front" he added quickly in case he hadn't made himself clear enough. Hermione made to stand up off Draco but he quickly grabbed her wrist. "Please, I want to help." He begged. "Let me see."
"I can't." she shook her head, tears in her eyes.
"I've seen them before, please" he pressed.
Eventually he coaxed her top off her and gasped. There were more, a number more.
"But how?" he whispered, "It's someone here? At Hogwarts?" A quantity of tears leaked from her eyes "How?" he asked "How did you get them?"
"Please Hermione" he pleaded. He pulled her inton his soaked clammy shoulder as she sobbed harder.
"It was me" she sobbed.
"I...what? What did you say?"
"It was me" she cried again, pulled away from Draco and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly.
Draco couldn't believe his ears. "What do you mean? How could you do that?"
"I do it to help"
"Help? Help what? How is that supposed to help anything?" Draco gasped. "Please Hermione, Please don't."
That night, instead of strip clubs, Draco dreamt of Hermione fighting with knives, cursed knives, that were all trying to hurt her. The rest of the week they avoided the subject, concentrating instead of flying higher and hitting harder.
Sunday night Draco couldn't sleep. He was very worried about Hermione and so decided to sneak up and practice his self defence for something to take his mind of her. He opened the door none too quietly, expecting to be the only one awake, only to find Hermione with the bottom of her shirt bunched up and tucked up under her chin and a potions scalpel in her right hand.
She looked up at the door with the knife half way across her ribs. Her top fell back down and Draco gasped at the sight. He ran to Hermiones side and pulled her top back up watching the blood droplets trickling down her front and soaking up into the waistband of her skirt.
He looked up into Hermiones eyes, tears pooling in his own. He was met with a distant blank expression. No pain, or thoughts, or even joy. Nothing at all.