The warm yellow sun streamed into Hermione's room and shone softly upon her sleeping features. She stirred under her thick covers, trying to open her eyes, but winced and refrained from doing so when she painfully discovered that prying open her eyes when they were puffy and had eye wax over it was quite impossible.
She had cried herself to sleep again. It wasn't her first time, and it was definitely not going to be her last. Last night had been excruciating. It killed her each time she thought of the next eleven or so months she would have to spend with him in this dorm.
Gently rubbing her eyes, she finally managed to open them. The aches on her body felt considerably better and the scratches were starting to close and heal. She tried to smile. She had to be brave, for herself, for Harry and Ron, for the teachers and more importantly, for the school. Today Professor Dumbledore was going to formally introduce her to the whole school. She wanted to look her best and confident.
Shuffling to the other end of her room, she picked up the robes she had chosen the night before and walked absently to the bathroom. Hermione grasped the doorknob, turned it a few times till she gave up, realizing that Malfoy was using it.
Sighing tiredly, she flopped back on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest. Seconds later, the bathroom door in her room opened and the cutting figure of Malfoy along with a puff of steam emerged, his hair slicked back, robes neatly pressed and proper.
Not showing any sign of acknowledgement, Hermione continued to hug herself, closing her eyes. Suddenly she could not bring herself to care, to muster up feelings of resentment and hatred that would only take up more of her energy. Despite having slept the whole night, her body felt dragged down by the weight of exhaustion that had settled in her bones.
"What are you doing? I'm sure you know which door leads to your room and which leads to mine. Isn't like you to be so careless Malfoy." She murmured, her voice emotionless, her eyes still shut. Her quiet remark seemed to barely penetrate through the steam and waning heat from the bathroom, but she had noticed that after five minutes, she still had not heard any footsteps leading out of her room. Malfoy was still standing there like a stone statue.
"It is like you to be so careless Granger. Gone and gotten yourself some nasty nicks and bruises have we?" he replied snidely, spying some of them on her legs from underneath her pajama bottoms. "Though I couldn't expect any less from a pitiful creature like you." He added brusquely.
"Yes. I suppose I am pitiful, aren't I?" she whispered softly, so soft, had Malfoy not have sharp hearing, he would not had caught it. Hermione remained in her position, not doing anything of the sort to hide those bruises nor deny it. Her eyes opened slowly and she stared blankly ahead as the words left her mouth. Uncurling her legs, Hermione walked into the bathroom, locking the door softly behind her. She barely looked at his rigid figure as she brushed past him, lost in a strange world of her own.
Malfoy stood stock still momentarily, confounded by her strange words and behavior. That had come so sudden and unexpectedly, it wasn't the desired reaction he had been expecting from her. Shaking his head slightly, he left her room. He was angry, but the cause of his anger couldn't be defined, which fueled his fury even further.
He just couldn't understand her.
When Hermione came out from the bathroom, her hair was down and slightly damp. It was tied into a loose half-ponytail and a few wet curls stuck to her face, flushed pink from the warm bath. She grinned weakly as she looked herself over in the mirror and approved.
As she was about to open the portrait door, thankful once more that Malfoy had long left for breakfast without her, tiny little glints and gleams of light caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Curious as to see what it was, she stepped precariously to the table, the source of the mysterious sparkling lights.
Hermione clenched her fists tightly, trying to control the overwhelming hatred and anger she felt then, as the mysterious objects of light revealed itself to be the dismal fragments of a porcelain fairy ornament her Grandmother had painted for her.
Spotting a large broken chunk that was the top half of the fairy, she grabbed it and stormed out of the room to the Great Hall. She was determined to set a certain silver haired, gray-eyed student in his place once and for all. She fumed at the thought of him. How could he be so despicable!
Malfoy turned his head to the side, glancing over his shoulder when he saw Crabbe raise his eyebrows pointedly at him, nodding in a direction that was clearly behind him. He raised his eyebrows calmly, but felt a tinge of irritation creeping up upon him. An evidently fuming Mudblood was stalking towards him, hell bent on beating the guts out of him, judging from her dark looks. Her head was bent ever so slightly, her long wavy hair streaming out behind her. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously, her mouth set in a thin line, her cheeks a crimson red. If looks could kill, he was certain he would have died an excruciating death then and there.
He kept his calm however; raising his eyebrows higher, in a mock look of surprise, though the last thing he wanted to see now was a pathetic freak of a Mudblood. Just as she reached his side in a flurry of loud heavy footfalls, he smoothly turned his head back down to his plate of breakfast and held up his goblet for a drink.
Anger rose up in him again, as her hand slammed down on his, pining it and his goblet on the table, splashing the pale orange juice everywhere. His eyes shot up to meet hers and she thrust a sharp pointy object at his face.
He glared at her, recognizing right away what it was and what she was here for. The little Mudblood's muggle toy. He was now fully aware that the entire hall of students had gone completely silent and was staring fervently at the scene unfolding before their eyes.
"How many more times, do you want to hurt me, mess with me or ruin my life?" she started in a strangled voice, gripping his hand harder with hers, digging her nails into the palm of his hand.
"This," she went on in that same gritted, pained voice, "this, was the last Christmas present that my Grandmother gave to me. She hand-painted it herself. You can never, ever repair it or get a new one."
She paused and drew in a deep breath, before going on.
"You're disgusting Malfoy. More despicable than I ever thought you could be. You are a worthless spoilt, incorrigible, pathetic excuse for a person."
There was a loud but lonely applause over at the Griffendor table and he averted his gaze there, glaring fiercely at Ron.
She turned on her heels sharply, tears smarting in her eyes, but was jerked back when Malfoy grabbed her hand, twisting it painfully, and the intensity on his face unutterable.
Hermione gasped in pain as his strong lean fingers pressed down on her bone. She lifted her other hand, ready to slap him. But he had stunning reflexes, and caught her hand by the wrist before it met his cheek.
She shouted and cried out to him, cursing him, spiting him.
"Let me go you son-of-a-bitch!"
He pulled her down quickly so that they were now at eye-level.
"I told you never to call me that again Mudblood. Looks like you have forgotten so soon."
"Yes, I have. I wouldn't want to keep anything that you say in my memory. I would be sick." She spat angrily at him, clearly consumed in her rage.
He picked up his goblet and flung the remaining juice at her, drenching her slightly. His silver eyes gleamed dangerously, they were hard and cold. An audible gasp was heard from the audience around but he was too worked up to bother about them. Let them stare.
With her one hand now free from his strong hold, Hermione brushed off the juice dripping from her face and gave him a mighty resounding slap. She was gritting her teeth tightly, seething with rage and disbelief at his arrogance and dare.
But they had both forgotten about the Professors sitting at the end of the Hall, who had been viewing everything with shock, stunned at such unexpected behaviour.
By now, Professor Snape and Professor Mcgonagall had marched their way over to them and each took hold of their student, pulling them apart.
"Miss Granger, I am thoroughly disappointed in you. Your behaviour is unexpected and atrocious! As Head Girl I would have expected better conduct. You can be assured that your mother will be hearing from us!" The Professor announced grimly, her mouth set in a thin firm line.
"As will be yours too, Mister Malfoy. I want it clear that nothing of the sort will ever take place again, be it in your dormitory or in full view of the students." Professor Snape added in a soft dangerous tone.
Together, they pushed their way through the crowds of stunned students, dragging along the two Heads, one slumped in defeat and tiredness, the other stiff and sturdy with a fire in his eyes.
Sorry I have not updated sooner. Hope you like this. Thanks for all your reviews.