Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Locked In	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 117470 -:- Recommendations : 7 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own HP, JK Rowling does. I make no money doing this. I have the moths in my pockets to prove it.

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Draco stalked down the hallway in a fit of pique. Why wouldn’t anyone just bloody well leave him alone? They all wanted to talk. No, they wanted a motive, a reason he’d behaved so uncharacteristically during the war. No one settled for no these days. They plied him with gifts and thanks and tokens and titters and he was fucking sick of it. He thought that things might return to normal if he started behaving like he used to. No such luck though. Even hexing didn’t deter them.

No one understood, not really. How could they? His mission never came to fruition. Dumbledore was still alive. The Death Eaters got into the school without his help. Snape never had to step in for him. The war meant freedom…as long as the light won. So, he’d dove into battle, hoping he could make enough of a difference to sway the outcome.

He hadn’t had a psychotic death wish. He wasn’t trying to get into anyone’s good graces. His motives were purely selfish. He wanted to be free. Hell, he didn’t give a shit about mudbloods or blood status in general anymore. He’d seen purebloods behave more savagely than the muggles they hated. He just wanted…out.

No one seemed to get that he just wanted to live his life and move on, free of the reign of tyranny that had ruled his home ever since the Dark Lord returned. That twit Granger was the worst of them. Oh, she never actually tried to thank him. She was smart about that. But she’d stare at him like he was some sort of insect to study. He often felt as if he were under glass, a helpless victim of her scrutiny. He didn’t want to be dissected. He liked his privacy very much thank you.

He’d started being overly nasty to her so she’d stop. The look on her face when he’d destroyed her potion was priceless. She’d flown into a rage so fast he swore she turned purple. And Snape, bless him, backed him up. Of course he would. He was the only one who knew his motives. Draco had broken down after the war, blubbering like an idiot…and Snape was there. He helped him gather himself and sent him on his way. It was just what he needed at the time.

“Hey Drakey!”

Draco cringed. Damn that Parkinson. She was clingier now than ever and he just wanted to shove her head in a sink and drowned her. She would never take no for an answer. He’d even hexed her girly bits with a rash and she still kept coming on to him.

“Get lost Parkinson,” Draco hissed.

“Oh, come on Drakey,” she simpered. “We used to be good together, remember? I just want to make you feel better. You’re such a grouch these days.”

Draco aimed his wand at her. “You want to make me feel better?”

“Of course,” she said, her eyes crossing as his wand neared her nose.

“Then leave me the fuck alone, or stand still so I can practice my transfiguration. I think you’d make a lovely rock.”

She pouted. “You don’t mean that.”

“Try me,” he growled, letting his magic pulse a little and send sparks flying from the tip of his wand.

“Fine!” she squeaked. “I’ll go, but this isn’t over. You just need to come to your senses.”

“I just need you to disappear off the face of the fucking earth,” he muttered and stalked away.

He needed a place to think. Unfortunately, there was only one room that he could go to for any privacy, and he wasn’t sure it even worked any longer. Abandoned classrooms and bathrooms were too easy to break into, as Potter had proved the year before. He still bore the scars across his chest from where Potter had cleanly sliced him. He still owed Snape a life debt for that one. How did you pay a life debt to the undead?

The Room of Requirement stood before him, calling to him despite their rather rocky relationship. He’d spend the majority of his sixth year inside of it, hidden away from everyone. All that alone time had been amazing and his own personal hell at the same time. Still, he knew he wouldn’t be disturbed, if he could just bring himself to enter it.

Crabbe and Goyle weren’t exactly the smartest people on the planet, but he knew them. They weren’t even friends really, more like money and food driven body guards. Their lust for the Dark Arts and power had made them greedy. Their stupidity had cost them their lives. No one would ever know exactly what happened, but he imagined that one of those two cast Fiendfyre to show off…and lost control.

All I really need is a place away from everyone like Parkinson and Granger…especially Granger.

He ran his hand across the width of the wooden door, relishing the bite the roughened wood had. Yes, here he could be alone for just a little while. Here, he might find some peace. Maybe Crabbe and Goyle’s ghosts had stayed behind. At this point, he’d brave that charlatan Trelawney just to get away for a while. He was surprised that the door was here waiting for him, but he decided not to analyze it. The room only appeared when it was needed…and Merlin did he need it right now.

The room was sort of…underwhelming. In a word, it was sad. It reminded him of an empty dungeon in the Manor, only there were no bars here. There wasn’t anything here, just walls and a floor, a ceiling and a door. It had apparently been cleaned up after the fire, but the room was forever changed. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to stay inside for a while. It was private at least and there was absolutely nothing to disturb him, not even a creaky chair.

He closed the door and lit his wand so he could see in the inky darkness. He walked to the furthest corner from the door and leaned into it, letting his head rest on the stone bricks. Finally. Silence. It was so wonderful. He slid down, curling up into a ball on the floor. The room was a tad chilly, but he didn’t care. He could just soak in the privacy.

Here, there were no young kids running through the dorms, no impromptu quidditch matches in the common rooms, no giggling girls vying for the position of the next Mrs. Malfoy, no mutters of him being a hero or a traitor, and no reason to check his belongings for hexes or curses. Having to watch your back was tiresome. He wished he could just move out of the dorm, but where would he go?

Snape might take him in, but vampires didn’t exactly sleep. There wasn’t even a bed in his chambers. Draco knew that for certain. He seemed to spend more of his time snoozing on Snape’s couch than in the dorms. And Snape was gone more and more during the nights, always returning with a harrowed look and an aura of sadness around him. He’d wanted to inquire what was wrong on more than one occasion but he knew Snape would never tell him. The man was locked down and preferred it that way.

Draco understood that. He didn’t want anyone in his head either. It had been violated much too often by the Dark Lord, by his Aunt Bellatrix, by his own father. His thoughts were his own. That’s why he’d tried so fiercely to learn occlumency. Keeping people out of his head kept him and his mother alive. No, he wouldn’t pry. He respected Snape too much for that.

He must have fallen asleep because when his eyes shot open, he couldn’t remember his last thought. What had woken him? A creak, some sort of metallic creak, like old hinges. Damn, the door was opening. Even here he could get no peace. Who was it?

AN: I'm glad you guys like this. Here we have a glimpse into Draco's world. I figured after the war, he'd just want to forget about it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far. What do you think now? Think we'll have some fun? Until next time...Love you guys.
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