A/N: Hello, again. Here's where I start to deviate from the book. I've been having some trouble deciding whether or not to keep most of the book scenes or not… but it is way too much work to copy all of that dialogue word for word. It's much easier to just write from scratch. So, that's what I'm going to do. I appreciate the immediate response from all of you (no reviews yet, but I'm sure they're coming!), I hope to help you see the Draco I see. Don't forget to Favorite, Follow, and Review!
Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.
The Hogwarts express rumbled through the English countryside. Draco Malfoy sat in a booth in a car in the middle of the train with a few of the people that he could bear to stand. Blaise Zabini sat to his left, Pansy Parkinson sat across from him. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were missing this year; they had opted not to continue their education, instead joining the Dark Lord's ranks early.
He stared out the window, his mind wandering far over the hills, over the moors, over the fields and farmland. He wasn't really thinking about anything, but he wasn't really thinking about nothing, either. Pansy prattled to Draco and Blaise about her shopping trip the week before where she had bought exactly six different pairs of Louboutins, four new sets of robes, and (according to her) some incredibly sexy black and emerald lace lingerie. He wasn't paying attention, but Pansy didn't seem to care. Blaise, however, was very interested in hearing more about this lingerie, and Pansy made him a sly, mock-serious (although, you could never really know with Pansy) promise to model it for him in private.
Pansy Parkinson – one of his best friends on earth, someone who he trusted immensely – was not a shallow girl; she simply enjoyed materialistic things. She was very intelligent, very hard working (when it suited her), and she had the uncanny ability to absolutely dismantle someone's self-esteem and self-worth with a short string of carefully chosen words. She had been in love with Draco for a long time, since they were children really, but a while back she had come to the understanding that although she and he had chemistry (they fucked), he would never be able to see her as more than that. They had physical chemistry, emotional chemistry, even, but they would never be able to make a relationship work. The sex was good, though. They had a standing agreement that if they weren't in a relationship, either of them was fair game. That resulted in some serious after curfew-inside a broom closet-on a table in the great hall-potions classroom-Slytherin common room shenanigans. But at the moment Pansy seemed to have her eye on Blaise.
Blaise was Draco's other best friend. He was much like Draco, if not a little more reckless. While Draco tended to be quiet and reserved around people he didn't know well and wasn't entirely comfortable with, Blaise almost always welcomed you with open arms. He was funny, he was good looking, and he was very rich. His mother, an Italian heiress, boasted the fact that they owned at least one house on every continent, excluding Antarctica. Truthfully, in Europe, at least, they probably had at least one house in every country. Blaise was s fantastic secret keeper, one of his better qualities. Once you told him a secret, it was like writing it down on paper and throwing it into a fire. He would never tell. Blaise seemed to like Pansy, as well. They were friends, obviously, but Draco knew him well enough that he could tell when he was genuinely interested in someone. Pansy needn't worry. She had him wrapped around her long, pale fingers.
They rode on the train throughout the day and into the afternoon. Afternoon turned into evening as they pulled into Hogsmeade Station. He was the first out of his seat, his friends following closely behind, chatting amiably about something he didn't quite catch. He was busy mulling over the dull hungry ache in his stomach when he ran smack into a very solid figure blocking the door of the carriage.
"Oof." It said, spinning around to look at him.
He grabbed the person by their shoulders in an attempt to regain his nearly lost balance, when he saw who he was grabbing. Balance be damned. He stumbled into the wall, sending her toppling backwards onto the floor. Blaise and Pansy stopped behind them, Pansy giggling at Draco, whilst Blaise extended a hand to help him up.
"Alright, mate?" He said, brushing a bit of dust off of Draco's shoulder.
"Yeah, fine." He rubbed his elbow. "But I think I'm going to have to burn this shirt. Have I got any of her filth on me?"
Blaise grinned, shaking his head no.
The girl on the floor had gathered herself, and was carefully putting the contents of her spilled bag back where they belonged. Pansy nudged one of the fallen books down the corridor.
"Well," She said expectantly, "Go get it, then."
Hermione Granger frowned, her formerly bushy hair tied back and out of her face. If it had been down, Draco mused, it might have been crackling with electricity. He vaguely wondered what would happen if you rubbed a pillow on her head.
Hermione frowned, sighed, and picked up the book. "Very mature."
Pansy smirked, pushing past her and grabbing Blaise's hand, pulling him along. Draco meant to follow, when he realized that he had been holding a quill that was not his. He handed it back to Hermione without looking at her and stepped off the train.
He heard her mutter "Thanks." Quietly behind him. Must have been a force of habit. Damned Gryffindors.
The Great Hall was luminous and warm and packed to the brim with returning students. It didn't seem that impending war had dampened the spirits or scared many of the parents into not allowing their children to return. They probably thought that Hogwarts was the safest place for their precious babies. What fools. Not even Hogwarts, with its nearly impregnable walls, was safe from what was coming. No place was safe. No one was safe.
Everyone sat on their benches after a few minutes of talk. The chatter settled into a low roar, but dropped off into whispers as soon as McGonagall strode through the massive wooden doors, a trail of small, timid looking first years behind her. She led them up to where the head table was. A stool awaited them, the old, tattered sorting hat sitting on top of it. The students stepped up, one by one, and were sorted into their respective houses. A good many were sorted into Slytherin, and most didn't look nearly as stupid as their fellow classmates.
Dumbledore gave a short speech, Draco noticed that he kept one of his hands carefully tucked inside his robe, and then the food appeared on the long tables. Immediately everyone began to load their plates with food. There were roast chickens, turkey legs, and platters of roast beef. There were bowls filled with mashed potatoes, assorted vegetables, and macaroni and cheese. Rolls were stacked unnaturally high and in precarious positions. Tureens of gravy sat next to self-stirring cauldrons of savory soups. Draco picked at his food, eating a little and listening to the conversations around him.
Blaise was on his fourth helping of roast beef and Pansy was buttering a roll when he finally spoke.
"An awful lot of Mudbloods this year."
Pansy decided to humor him. "And how can you tell, Draco?"
"Why, Pans. With a nose as big as yours you should be able to smell them from all the way over here, too!"
She grinned, throwing a bit of roll at him. He laughed and dug into a pile of mashed potatoes.
They ate together for a while, laughing and talking, Draco finally opening up to his friends again. After a while the dinner dishes disappeared and desserts took their place. Puffed sugar pastries sat in piles next to mounds of ice cream. Decorated cakes and tarts and pies sat on serving dishes waiting for students to shovel them down. Draco, having grown tired at this point, decided to take the edge off a little and charm his cup of pumpkin juice into a cup of wine. He liked really dry wine, preferably red. Draco was not an alcoholic by any means, but he did enjoy drinking. If he didn't have wine, he liked firewhiskey or vodka.
After his fourth cup he was feeling sufficiently warmed and happy. He walked down to the common room with his friends, swaying his hips confidently.
"What's got you so peppy?" Pansy asked as they stepped over the threshold into the dungeon room.
He smirked, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. His cheeks were pink, his hair was ruffled, and his white dress shirt was untucked from his pants. "Peppy? No... just happy to be back here."
Blaise and Pansy exchanged a look. "Um… back here?" Blaise questioned.
Draco frowned. "Home hasn't been the most welcoming place lately."
"Ah." Blaise clapped him on the shoulder. "I do get that one."
Pansy grabbed both of their hands, steering them toward the black leather couches next to the roaring fire. "Enough of that, it's our first night back. And even though this place is a hell hole," She nodded toward Draco, "We could be somewhere worse."
"True that." Blaise pulled out a flask, taking a swig.
Pansy held out her hand, motioning for him to share. She took a big drink. Blaise whistled, and she swatted his arm. Draco grabbed the flask out of her hand, drinking deeply. It was firewhiskey.
"Well," He said, wiping the excess drink from the corners of his mouth, "I guess I'm getting hammered tonight."
Pansy laughed, drinking again. "Let's get wasted."
Blaise raised the flask high before taking another sip. "To getting fucked up with the only people you can stand."
"Amen." Draco replied, leaning back in his chair.
He'd forgotten how dark Hogwarts was at night. He'd forgotten that the stone walls seemed to absorb any light like a sponge, holding it captive until the sun rose again. The only visible light came from the tip of his wand, and the moon when it shone through the windows.
The moon. It was in its third quarter, edging closer and closer to being full. He dreaded it. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do on the full moon, or how he would keep himself – and everyone else – safe. But he couldn't worry about that now.
Draco wandered down the corridors of the fourth floor. He had left the common room after Blaise and Pansy had run up the stairs to her dorm, she was fulfilling her promise to model her new lingerie for him. He's stumbled his way out of the dungeons, eventually getting up some stairs (with minor difficulties) and to the fourth floor. He wasn't really sure what brought him there, until he saw the glow of wandlight coming from inside the library. He tentatively pushed open the door and walked in, banging his knee on a table in the process. He followed the light, eventually coming to a rarely used corner, one that happened to be his favorite place to hide.
Sitting there, her head buried deep in a book, was Hermione Granger. What she was reading, he couldn't see, partly because it was all blurry, and partly because it was too dark.
"You do know it's two AM." He stated softly, leaning against one of the bookshelves.
Hermione jumped, the blood draining from her face. She looked up, startled. "For fucks sake, Malfoy. What the hell are you doing here?"
"Was out, saw your wand, thought I'd see who was in here."
"It's two AM?"
"I already said that."
"No, I mean, why are you out at two AM?"
"None of your business."
She sighed, closed the book, and stood up to gather her things. She began to move past him when he clumsily flung his arm out, blocking her path.
She huffed. "What do you want?"
"I don't know." He said, his words slurring. He moved forwards so she had to move back. She was pinned between the wall and him, she had nowhere to go.
His eyes sparkled as he put his hands on either side of her head. Alarm bells should have been going off somewhere in his brain telling him to back away, that she was disgusting, that even being this close to her could taint his blood… but they weren't. Maybe because he felt his blood was already tainted, maybe he didn't care, or maybe he was too drunk to even notice.
He moved his face closer to hers and smiled. She stood there stunned, her large brown eyes wide. There was a tendril of hair that hung in front of her eyes.
"May I?" He asked.
She nodded, biting her lip. He tucked the piece of hair behind her ear.
"What are you doing?" She whispered
"I don't know." He repeated again, he could feel her breath on his face. He could smell her hair. She smelled sweet, like lavender and rain. He shifted his body closer to hers. He could feel the heat of her on his skin. Draco leaned down, the moment and her smell intoxicating, and he ghosted his lips over hers.
She pulled back, stunned. Her face twisted, confused.
"You're drunk." She could smell the firewhiskey on his breath.
"Yes."
She looked unsure for a moment, torn between running or staying and seeing where this would go. Hermione's curiosity got the best of her and then she leaned up on her tip toes to kiss him. Their mouths melded together, soft lips moving in time with each other, moving to the beat of their erratically fluttering hearts. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, kissing her deeply, now. He pressed flush against her, he could feel the warmth of his blood pooling between his thighs. He could feel himself becoming aroused. Apparently she could feel it too, because she broke away, her breathing hard. And then she did a very unexpected thing. She nipped him on the neck.
He growled softly, pushing her back against the wall. He could feel the soft mounds of her breasts against his chest. He could feel the curves of her torso as he ran his hand down her back and to her bottom. He pulled her hips closer to meet his, sure she could feel his erection now. She rocked against him, aroused too. He carefully lifted the hem of her skirt, running his fingers slowly up her thigh. Hermione's breathing hitched as she felt where he was going. He touched her, rubbing her on her clitoris through her panties. She gasped at the sensation, and moaned softly. Suddenly, she jerked away.
"No." She whispered softly.
He pulled his hand away, kissing her once more, softly. She searched for his lips, but he wasn't there anymore. When her eyes opened he was staring at her. His eyes were steely, they flashed dangerously.
"If you say anything to anyone."
"I won't, I won't" She said quickly, flushing. She picked up her fallen and forgotten bag. She started to walk away, but stopped and turned back. Hermione opened her mouth as if she had something to say, but changed her mind, turned, and walked out of the library.
Draco exhaled heavily. His exhaustion began to take over, combined with his inebriation, he could barely stand. He sat back down in the same spot Hermione had been very early before. Draco fumbled in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and lit up. His eyelids dropped, his breathing became more even and heavier. He fell asleep with his still burning cigarette perched carefully on top of a small bit of plastic. It's really amazing that he didn't burn down the whole library.
A/n: Can't wait to tell you all what happens next. Don't forget to Follow, Favorite, and Review! Hint: the more reviews I get, the more inclined I am to post a new chapter. Also, you can follow me on my tumblr: URL is slytherinsnitches. Thank you!