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Obscurity	By : mutableair Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 4087 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or associated characters. I do not make any profit from this story.

Chapter List
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A/N: Thank you to: Amanda88 and margaritama for your reviews! Hopefully this chapter clears some stuff up for you.

FALSITY

-~*~-

Sunday morning approached quickly for Hermione. She was able to get a few hours of sleep after her bath, Hogwarts: A History still lying on her bed. It was about six in the morning. She figured she would work on the Prefect patrol schedules and have them completed later on that evening. The thought of Malfoy and his antics flitted through her mind as she pulled her hair back into a low ponytail. She could understand his obnoxious need for control; she could even understand his fear for his masculinity and authority within the school. What she didn’t understand was why he was being violent. There hadn’t been any need over the past seven years to reinforce his ideology upon her through violence. Why was he starting now?

  She mused that it probably had something to do with his daddy-dearest and the possibility of the Dark Mark coming into view. She had no way to know for sure if Malfoy was planning on joining Voldemort, but if his attitude was any inclination, she better be safe than sorry. After grabbing the materials she would need for the schedule and a few books from the Library, Hermione headed down to the common room. Everything was quiet, eerily so. She could just imagine Malfoy jumping out from behind one of the couches and slamming her into a wall. With that thought, she left their dormitory as fast as she could, wand at her side. It’s not that she was terrified, or really scared even. She just didn’t think that she could take the torment or the ridicule. The last thing she wanted was someone overpowering her, making her feel weak. She had to be strong for Harry, for Ron even. The war loomed overhead, and she desperately wanted to be there to protect those she loved. Even if she didn’t have the physical strength to duel evil witches and wizards, she did have her mind.

  Over last summer, Hermione fell into a sort of depression. Nothing too serious, she told herself. Even though her parents would have begged to differ. With the war still going on, her parents in Australia, and the uncertainties that loomed overhead, Hermione found it hard to stay cheerful. She had stayed at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Harry dancing between there and the Burrow. Sometimes Order members would be occupying the dark, drab space. But that was normally only when they had a meeting or if someone was sent to check on her and Harry. Ron and Ginny had stayed at the Burrow, of course. Rarely visiting because of the danger associated with travelling nowadays. The only way Harry was able to leave every now and again was because he was with an Order member. Remus, Tonks, or Mr. Weasley his usual travel companions. The uncertainty that seemed to surround her now was a direct consequence of being alone too long to think. She had gone over various scenarios in her head of if they won the war, or what would happen if they lost. That alone was traumatizing. The idea that she may lose her close friends, a person that she knows, or people that she loves even if they do win it was a hard concept to want to accept.

  There was a couple times were she found herself close to hysteria. After long nights researching and taking notes, preparing herself, and training with wand movements, Hermione often felt that she had nothing left. The war was consuming everyone. Day to day life went on, but underneath this covered society true horrors were taking place. People were appearing dead on the streets, bloody messes with various bodily parts broken or exposed. People were also disappearing. Children vanishing and never coming back, husbands or wives who had went to a store and only never to return. She constantly reminded herself that this happened in muggle society all the time and that it was just an unfortunate part of life, but nothing could ease the nausea, the shaking, or the crying. She remembers one break down exceptionally well.

  She had fallen asleep on the desk she was studying at, ‘a minor blessing’ she would have thought. The dream she was having was vivid. Not in the sense that she couldn’t tell if it was dream or reality, but the type of dream that has you noticing every detail. She was staring at a field from a group of trees set south of the field. She was extremely cold, her breath vaporizing in front of her. She made her way up to the field, noticing discoloration among the grass, burnt spots and perhaps… Blood stains. The differences amongst grass must have distracted her that she had tripped and fell. She landed on something soft, cold but soft. Looking up, she saw the expanse of exposed skin, ripped skin, and blood everywhere. There was blood on her hands, blood seeping out of this body, blood all over her clothes, and she just wanted to give it back to the person lying there so cold on the ground. She looked up into the face of the person and noticed that it was Ginny. Sweet Ginny was laying here covered in blood, bleeding on her, and completely dead next to her. Hermione screamed.

  When she woke up, she was terrified. Glad that it wasn’t reality, but horrified at the possibly that one day it could be. She had started crying again, sobbing really. Wounded by seeing her friend like that, so dead and cold. Hermione began to rock herself back and forth, her body becoming numb. She was angry, distraught, and afraid.

  She looked up at her bedroom mirror, suddenly outraged that there would be such a thing to mock her when she was down. Her face was blotchy and red with her weakness shining through. Ron and Harry had chanted over and over to her the past few years, “Just be strong for us, ‘Mione. We need you.” With sudden force she rushed at the mirror, screaming, and she hit it as hard as she could. The shattering and clanking noise from the broken mirror echoed throughout her room. She was satisfied that it was gone, now there was no one to stare at her or to make fun of her. Hermione stared down at her hand. It was throbbing, like her hand had swallowed her heartbeat. And there was blood, quite a bit of blood. Nothing compared to what Ginny’s body had given out though. Hermione was pleased to notice that it was also numb, so very numb. This punishment was acceptable she assumed, it was the release she needed. It was the blood she needed to see, to remind her that she was here and to show her that she was still alive. The numbness was perfect too, because the numbness is what would help her hide.

-~*~-

  Draco awoke sometime late Sunday morning. He moved to the shower, peeled off his clothes, and stepped into the awaiting warmth. He hissed as the hot water left trails down his back, a few reminders from his father still lingering there. He had been told to uphold the Malfoy family name. Do not let anyone push him down. His father had been furious to find out that Granger was going to be Head Girl along side of him. His father knew that she was the brightest witch of her age, but he would never admit that because of her blood status. With Voldemort inhabiting the Manor, many other Death Eaters thought that Lucius and his family were beneath them. They could not understand how one would let their ancestral home go to ruins, even if it was the Dark Lord causing it. Draco figured they were just being pompous, and didn’t know any damn better regardless of the pureblood hierarchy. His father had drilled it into his head that he needed to break Granger; they both understood that she was a key element in this war because of her intelligence. Malfoy Sr. encouraged Draco to do his worst, without killing her of course. He wanted Draco to be discreet, so when Granger was finally needed she would be so much of a mess that she wouldn’t even be able to help herself.

  Draco had been trying over the past two days to get Granger to understand that this is going to get so much worse if she doesn’t back down. He honestly didn’t know how far he was willing to go to hurt her. Don’t get him wrong he hated the bint. But he was still a feeling wizard, regardless of what others thought. Getting out of the shower and dressed for the day, Draco made he way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Though it was late for a weekday, breakfast was usually served later on weekends to give everyone a chance to catch up on rest.

  Draco made his way alone over to the Slytherin table and found his seat next to Pansy and Blaise. Putting a pastry and some eggs on his plate, he began to eat gingerly. Pansy and Blaise were involved in some sort of debate with one another and only took a break to greet Draco when he had sat down. He was off in his own world thinking of the many possibilities and situations he could find himself confronted with tomorrow because of the start of classes and required Head duties.

  The Slytherin table had not gone quiet, though there was some speculation. Draco was just finishing off his eggs when he heard a polite cough come from somewhere behind him. Turning, he noticed Granger standing there holding the Prefect round schedules. ‘Seriously?!’ Draco thought to himself.

      Hermione looked at Malfoy defiantly, “Excuse me, Malfoy. I need you to look over these before I turn them into the Headmaster.”

  Draco snatched the papers from her hands, setting them next to his plate. He looked back at Granger and made a dismissive wave towards her person. Returning to the rest of his meal, Draco was surprised when he heard Granger curse behind him.

      “Malfoy, you need to look at them now.” Hermione said irritated.

      “Do tell, why you think I’m going to take any form of command from you, Mudblood? I’ll look these over when I feel like, if I even look over them at all.”

  Draco could see the anger seeping through Granger’s pores. She was livid. The Great Hall had fallen into hushed whispers, thriving on the interaction between the Head Boy and Head Girl.

      “I understand that it is quite difficult for you to make any attempt at solitary work, let alone decisions dealing with leadership. But I promise to you, Malfoy, the names and times are not that hard to read nor is writing your signature at the bottom stating you accept the rota.” Hermione smiled to herself.

  There were a few snickers that flowed throughout the Great Hall as students caught onto what was going on.

      Malfoy stood up and leaned in close to Hermione’s face. “You’re going to pay for saying that, Granger. I promise.”

  He smiled devilishly at her and left the Great Hall with Blaise and Pansy following close behind. The rota still left next to Malfoy’s empty breakfast plate. Sighing, Hermione picked up the rota and prepared to show it to Headmaster Dumbledore.

  The rest of the day went by without event. Hermione had spent some time with Ron and Harry after speaking with Dumbledore, and they had lunch together out by the lake. The weather was still warm, making it pleasant to go on walks or have an outdoor get together. Soon the weather would be frigid, keeping most students in the castle until spring. She had enjoyed the boy’s company and decided to watch them on the Quidditch pitch. By the time she had made it back up to her dorms it was mid-evening, the sun having just set. She spoke the password, and entered quietly.

  Draco was about to leave his dorm when he heard the portrait open, ‘Granger.’ He slowly made his way down to the common room and found her sitting in the same plush armchair he had occupied just a day before. She was smiling at the fire, the warmth putting a blush on her cheeks.

      He walked up behind the chair, and leaned to whisper in her ear, “Ready for payback, bitch?”

      Hermione leapt off the chair and glared at Malfoy, “What is your problem?!”



  Her wand was in her bag, which was sitting on the table next to the chair. Malfoy followed her eyes and noticed her wand sticking out of the side of her bag. He gave a sharp bark of laughter that turned slowly into a growl.

  Looking back up at Granger, he gave her a wicked smile. Lunging after her, Granger sidestepped to the left, he had barely missed her. She climbed over the couch and tried to make it up to her private rooms, Malfoy was right behind her. He grabbed the back of her shirt and she fell back against him with a thud. He let her fall to the ground, squatting down next to her slowly. She swung at his face, and he decided enough was enough. Pinning her down to the ground with his body weight, he brought her head back up and slammed it onto the floor.

  Hermione whimpered when her head made contact with the floor. Malfoy was smiling at her, a wide toothy grin. He looked crazed, he probably felt accomplished.

      “Honestly, trying to out run me, Granger?” Draco spat down at her.

      “What did I tell you? Did the words living hell and underneath your skin, escape you?” He smacked her head onto the floor again.

  Hermione stared defiantly back at him. She had suffered worse, worse from her own hands. She wasn’t afraid of him. She thought that she might be. But she wasn’t.

  Draco could see a small smile form on Granger’s lips. Seems she thought he was being funny.

      He wrapped his hand around her throat, “Are you afraid, Mudblood. Have you lost your nerve?” He taunted.

  Hermione practically giggled. Malfoy’s nose was flaring; he was trying to threaten her. Threaten her. And she was giggling, even though his hand was around her throat and she couldn’t move. Even though she is most likely to suffer a concussion before he lets her go. She can’t help but smile.

  Draco feels uneasy because of the maniacal glint Granger has in her eyes, the way she’s giggling at him and smiling. He figures she’s finally off her rocker. ‘Maybe someone’s already taken care of breaking her…’ Draco thought to himself. He could feel her soft body beneath him. She was moving, not thrashing, just moving to get comfortable, or maybe to get out from underneath him. He was starting to feel warm because of her body movements, egged on by the flush of her cheeks.

      “Get off, Malfoy.” Hermione murmured.

  Draco obliged, rolling off of her and standing up quickly.

      “We’re not finished, Mudblood.” Draco stated quickly, walking out of the portrait hole.

Hermione stood up and walked to her room. Locking herself behind the door, she rummaged through her desk. She had saved some of the pieces of broken mirror from Grimmauld Place, putting it in a decorated tin. Some of the pieces still had some of her blood on them. After locating her tin, Hermione quickly removed a sharp piece of glass. Rolling up the sleeve of her blouse, she pressed the glass into her upper arm moving it slowly across. Blood started to bubble up out of the wound, and Hermione felt numb again. The smile and giggles had ceased. Her hysteria temporarily subsided.

-~*~-

A/N: So here's chapter 2, wanted to get it out here before I had to go to work. Please review and I hope you enjoyed it. :)
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