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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: I'm so sorry that it took this long to get this chapter up. I can't even begin to make excuses. It's been one hell of a year and... a half? Oh, well. I hope you enjoy.

INSANITY

-~*~-

  He couldn’t tell you what possessed him to do it. Everything in reality would have screamed at him to stop. Draco knew that his life was not this. Not Hermione Granger leaning up against a wall and blood dripping down her arms. Not Draco Malfoy pushed up against her and looking into her eyes for an answer. No, this wasn’t what reality was. But Draco had the faintest idea that this is what it was becoming, what it could be. He couldn’t tell you what made him lean down; lean down so close to her face. But he did.

  Hermione could feel warm puffs of breath hitting her lips. She sought Malfoy’s eyes for an answer and what she was greeted with did not grant her that. Hermione knew that this couldn’t be reality and that she surely was dreaming. Though, the warm breath and body told her differently. There were no answers for her to find in Malfoy’s eyes. There was no solstice in this embrace. Or at least that’s what she told herself.

      “What hurts?” Draco whispered against Hermione’s lips.

      “Everything.” Hermione gasped against him.

      “Well, I suppose we should do something about that, don’t you think?” Draco questioned.

  Hermione didn’t understand what he meant. He wasn’t trying to help her was he?

            Draco took Hermione’s silence as a ‘yes’. Letting her arms fall down to her sides, he gently grasped her hand. He didn’t know what this was, why he was doing it, but he couldn’t leave her like this. Draco led her to their joined bathroom, Hermione following dumbly behind him. Once inside, he grasped her by the waist and lifted her onto the counter top.

                “Malfoy-“ Hermione started, trying to wiggle her way off the counter, “-this isn’t a good idea.”

              Draco smirked at her, “You don’t even know what I’m going to do.” He pulled out his wand.

  Hermione instinctively started struggling, trying to get away from the imminent danger.

                “I’m not going to hurt you.” Draco said, trying to calm Hermione down.

            Hermione looked at Malfoy with wide eyes. She was surely losing her mind. Standing in front of her was the boy who threatened, no promised, to hurt her. She wasn’t going to let herself become easily fooled by his words, his charm, or the heat radiating off of him.

                “Malfoy, get the fuck away from me.” Hermione said with renewed anger.

            Draco was caught off guard by her sudden harshness. The anger tinged in her voice reminded him of his father and the task he had set. Her words were like poison, spreading through him quickly. He evaluated his situation. Had he actually felt remorse for her? The thought sickened him.

                “I don’t think so.” Draco practically growled at Hermione.

            Hermione was becoming immensely annoyed by the situation. Malfoy, of all people, had her cornered in their shared bathroom. Using all of her strength, she pushed against him. She watched as he barely moved, the blood from her newly opened wounds streaking his white school shirt.

  Draco looked as if he were ready to burst. The nerve she had! Pushing him like that. He looked down at Hermione, noticing the condition of his shirt from the mirror’s reflection.

                “Do you see what you just did?” He asked curiously.

            Hermione gave him a hateful glare.

                “You got your sullied blood, on my shirt. On my fucking shirt!” Draco growled at her.

            He was so pissed. Pissed off by her ungratefulness, her inability to recognize the fact that he had almost gave in. Her blindness. He hated her. He hated her for making him question what his father had told him. He hated her for not understanding. He hated her for being dirty, so dirty to him. He wanted to kill-

                “Still a self-righteous ass, I see. For a second,” Hermione leaned close to Draco, making perfect eye contact with him. “For a second, I thought you were trying, trying to help me. But I’ve got that wrong, don’t I? You are truly corrupted, Malfoy. You’re twisted into some sick fantasy world, where everyone is submissive to you. Where you don’t have to earn a thing. I honestly can say, that I hate you. Purely.”

            Hermione slid off of the bathroom counter, purposely shoving past Draco, who was too stunned by her quick ‘recovery.’

            Draco heard the bathroom door that led to her room slam shut. He stood there in angry silence.

-~*~-

  Hermione pushed her back against the door after muttering every locking charm she could think of. She felt on fire. Her arms were covered in blood and her shirt in ruins. Her face felt puffy and stiff from all the dried tears.

  Slowly she made her way over to her bed. Lying down with a thud, she drifted into a restless sleep.

  A few hours had past since the incident with Malfoy. Hermione was sitting in her bed at 3 o’clock in the morning, wide-awake. The memories of everything Malfoy had said to her kept repeating, as if on an infinite loop. She didn’t know what to think of his actions, his extremely bipolar actions. In the beginning he had threatened her, became the worst Malfoy Jr. he could be. Then towards the end, he showed what she thought could have been some inkling of sympathy. “That’s severely unlikely.” Hermione laughed to herself. Getting up and standing off the side of her bed, she began to strip her blood stained clothes off of her aching body. Once they were removed, she cast a cleaning charm and climbed back in bed.

-~*~-

  Draco was angry. No, more like livid. He was confused. So confused. He had tried to make sense out of his conflicting emotions. Out of the hatred and remorse he felt for one Hermione Granger. These thoughts led him to explore, once again, the events of the past summer and what awaited him during winter holiday.

  He had created a mental block for all things unpleasant and against his liking. This block was extraordinarily big considering there weren’t many aspects of his life that were worth looking back on. He thought about how unfortunate his situation had become and how unbecoming it was for the Malfoy heir to suffer this life. He fell into a fitful sleep soon after.

  Draco attempted to take in his surroundings, but he was met with darkness. The world felt so cold around him, but he was on fire. ‘What happened?’ He asked himself. The silence supplying no useful answer. He attempted to get off the mossy ground he was resting on, but froze at the sounds of screaming and laughter. His head began to spin as memories rushed back in.

      ‘Crucio!’ A masked man shouted.

  Draco screamed in pain, a sense of numbness overtaking his mind.

                        Laughter again.

  His throat felt raw and by the time he felt as if he’d rather die than spend one more second on this bloody planet, the pain stopped. His mother had lifted him off the ground, supporting his weight unsteadily.

  Draco tried to glance around the room and identify who his unfortunate company was.

  At least a dozen Death Eaters stood together in a semi-circle, his mother and himself part of the formation. It seemed there were various ‘forms’ of entertainment that night. Ranging from the initiations of new Death Eaters, like himself, to the torturing of muggles and muggleborns alike.

  He watched with an uneasy mind as multiple men, women, and children were brought before their gathering and slaughtered mercilessly.

      Blood, limbs, screaming.

  Draco woke up gasping for air. It was hard to breathe. He felt as though someone had been sitting on his chest. He sat up trying to catch his breath, and promptly was sick all over his bedding. ‘Bloody wonderful.’ Draco thought to himself. Removing the blankets from his sweating body, he reached for his wand and cast a wayward ‘Scourgify.’ Pulling off his sweat sodden sleeping shirt, he climbed back into his newly cleaned bed. Trying not to recall the events of his dream, Draco cast a ‘Tempus’ charm, it was 4:38 a.m. He only had a few more hours until he had to be up for classes. With that he opened his side table drawer and pulled out a Dreamless Sleep Draught, with a quick swallow he was back to sleep.

-~*~-

  The next day went by slowly. Hermione had passed Malfoy on her way down to breakfast, but hadn’t seen him since. For that she was grateful. She had a hell of a time trying to reduce the swelling from her inflamed wounds due to the night before. Her crisp repaired white school shirt lay calmly against her arms, revealing none of the atrocities that lay beneath.

            When she saw Draco that morning, he had given her a look of utter despair, which then was masked with an air of numbness. A numbness Hermione knew all too well. She had refused to look away, causing Malfoy to leave the room immediately. She had been baffled by his seemingly outright display of surrender. She concluded even Malfoy’s had the right to want a non-violent morning every now and again. The thought made her snort as she made her way down to the Great Hall.

            Hermione had refused to give Malfoy much thought throughout the day. What had occurred the night before was utterly confusing and out of character for both of them. She had shown Malfoy a sign of weakness, and she liked to think that he had shown her one as well. Both had obviously resorted to their familiar acts of violence and hatred, though something between the two had changed.

-~*~-

            Draco had encountered Granger on his way out of his rooms that morning. She had given him a defiant look, one that was so signature on his face. He couldn’t deal with her right now. Not after slipping so badly the night before, not after dealing with his nightmares. He had swiftly walked past her, leaving her alone in the common room.

            Draco needed time to think. Needed time to get away. He decided that joining his house in the Great Hall this morning was not a good idea. The thought of having to face his peers, much of them younger copies of their Death Eater parents made him want to be sick all over again. Instead he made his way out of the castle, leisurely approaching the Black Lake.

            He found a place to sit amongst a group of dark jagged rocks. The lake was lapping at the shores, providing a relaxing soundtrack to his thoughts. Draco spent an hour wondering how he had gotten into the wreck that was his life. He thought about all the hatred he had, the hatred he had for his parents for subjecting him to this torture. He thought about his hatred for Granger and her friends. He thought about his hatred for the Dark Lord. All the hatred hadn’t gotten him anywhere. He loathed his own existence. He only lived to serve. Something that was unbecoming for a Malfoy. For anyone.

            Draco had let his mind wander. Trying to decipher the answers of his life from the events of the past few months. He was tasked to destroy another human being. A human being he had already felt empathy for. He was going to be demolished. He had already lost.

-~*~-
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Obscurity