Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Face it, neither do you.
Summary: If you were me, Malfoy, you would know how pain felt. You don't have a clue. I wish I could kiss you and run away and never be seen again... then you would know how badly it feels to never have the one thing you always wanted.
I'm so sorry.
I hadn't realized the pain I had caused you.
Those were the faithful words I wanted to hear from him.
But I never would.
"What where you're going, Mudblood," he growled at me as I walked by him.
I wasn't even remotely close to him in the hallway. We were a good ten feet apart. But he didn't care.
Just like before
Just like before the war had started. He wasn't any different. He was still hiding in a façade of cold hatred and a mean disposition.
He didn't sneer anymore. He kept quiet and to himself mostly.
Except for me.
He lived for making me angry. He fed on my pain. He loved to see me cry. Why was I so special?
Everything you say to me
Yeah, Malfoy, everything you say to me makes me want to smack you. There isn't anymore prejudice. We've won, face it. There isn't a Dark Lord now, anymore.
But there isn't a Harry Potter either.
"Shut your face, Malfoy, I'm not even close to you," I snarled at him. He sent me a glare and continued on his walk to Transfiguration. Sadly, I followed him. We were in the same class.
Transfiguration was an easy grade for me. I listened, that was about it. Ever since the death of Harry Potter, nothing I did had any life in it anymore. I was an empty shell.
But I wasn't even there.
All I could focus on was him. Twirling his quill absentmindedly in between his long, delicate fingers, gazing into space with a glazed look in his distant silver eyes, strands of fine golden hair falling into his vision; a halo on his head from the light. How much I wanted to know what he was dreaming about right then. What sadness could he possibly hold? He didn't know what pain was, only resent and a morbid pleasure. I wanted to show him what it meant. I wanted to kiss him and run away and never be seen so he would know how it felt to be sad.
So he would know what it felt like to never have what he always wanted because the snot always did.
Dinner was not very interesting. I don't care for it much anymore. I lift the utensil; put whatever substance on it into my mouth, swallow, and repeat. I don't care about it.
Because all I care about is you, Malfoy.
You take up all my time. You haunt me in my sleep. Your name makes my chest pang and all of a sudden your face pops into my mind over and over again. And you continue to ignore me. Why must you do that? It isn't like I insult you like I used to. No, I keep my distance. But you go out of your way to hurt me. Why have I always been special?
"I'm not hungry, Ron, I'm going back up to the common room." I heard myself say to the redhead. He nodded, continuing to shove food into his mouth.
But I had no intentions of going back up to the common room with its whole cozy atmosphere and warm, welcoming people and furniture.
Because I didn't deserve it.
The Astronomy Tower. Wow, have I been here a lot lately. It's my space, my sweet nirvana...
My only escape.
I froze in my tracks as I rounded the last corner. Malfoy was hastily wiping his face and angrily staring at me.
He had been crying.
And yet, in some weird way, I didn't blame him. He was as empty as me. He probably didn't have a thing for his worst enemy either.
"Oh, sorry Malfoy." I turned to leave, but he had to stop me.
"Filthy little Mudblood, I bet you followed me up here," came his livid voice, very very close to me. I didn't need to turn around to know that he walked right up to me.
"I said I was sorry. Now kindly shut your face, and I'll leave," I replied, walking towards the door.
But he wanted more than that.
He grabbed me roughly and shoved me into the wall, pinning me by my shoulders and glaring into my eyes, his lip curled, baring his teeth, silver blonde hair gently falling into his eyes.
He looked beautiful.
He needed me as a scapegoat, I was aware of that. I knew he had followed me once or twice before up here to the Tower. He knew it was my only sweet pleasure to sit alone.
So he took it away from me.
Just like he took everything.
Just like before
"You fucking piece of filth! I can't believe you would follow me up here, you stupid waste of space! I hope you die Granger! I fucking hope you burn forever and get out of my life!" he hissed at me, gripping my shoulders so tight I knew bruises would appear the next morning.
Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
"You heard me, you fucking bitch. I hope you die."
And I'm about to break.
I had been fruitlessly following him around for a month after the war had ended, searching for him, vying for his presence. Was it something alluring about him that captivated me so? What was it about him that had me fooled?
I find the answers aren't so clear
And I had denied the fact that he hadn't changed one bit. He still hated me. He wasn't using me to blame whatever he had done wrong.
He truly hated my guts.
And I only found one answer to his stupid threat, to his stupid sentence. And I'm stupid too. Because I have nothing else to live for. Because I can't have him. Might as well have him end it for me right now.
"Then kill me, Malfoy."
Wish I could find a way to disappear
"If you hate me that bad, then kill me."
I whispered that last part with a shaking voice. I knew I had some kind of sick obsession with him, I really did. Some part of me believed that he was changed.
All these thoughts they make no sense
The other part of me? I didn't have another part.
I find bliss in ignorance
Because the one part of me alive... it was for Malfoy, and Malfoy only.
I was crying now. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I was. Tears were stinging my eyes as they poured completely silent down my cheeks. He looked angrier than ever.
"Don't you fucking start crying, you mangy bitch! You aren't getting away from me."
God, he knew how badly I hated being called dirty. He knew how much I hated being called a bitch too. That was why he did it.
Because I was special.
He knew how to hurt me so badly. And I hated it so much. I wish I knew things about him. I wish I could make him cry. I wish I knew why he was crying before.
He whipped out his wand and held it to my temple dangerously. I didn't move. He leaned in towards my face, baring his perfectly white teeth still.
"How's it feel, Granger? These are your last moments to live. I hoped you would fucking die... I hoped you would die in that battlefield Granger. I hoped you would die so you would stay out of my fucking head."
He was whispering that with a sort of desperation. Instantly, flashes of the war passed through my mind. All those horrific scenes; blood, screaming, earthquakes alive inside of me and sending me into my own delirium.
Nothing seems to go away
"I wanted you to go so badly, Granger. You don't realize how badly you're hurting me, do you?" his voice cracked, and I could see his eyes shine with tears.
Dear god, he was crying.
"I wanted you to leave! Granger, I couldn't have you here! Not in this world ever! If you left, Granger, you would be out of my head. But you had to be a fucking goody-two-shoes and defend yourself." Tears poured down his now wet cheeks.
My crying had long since ceased. I was amazed at his words, mesmerized.
"I was so relieved, Granger. You had lived. But at the same time—" he paused, letting a scared sob pass through his lips; "—but at the same fucking time I wanted you dead."
Over and over again.
"I can't ever have you! It just wouldn't be right!" he screamed, his body shaking with sobs.
I was in complete and utter shock.
He wiped his face hastily again, and then held my shoulder tightly. He leaned into my face again to speak.
"If I can't have you in this world, Hermione, I'll have you in the next," he whispered softly.
And then he kissed me.
It wasn't anything like those trashy romance novel kisses. He pulled me into him, kissing me so intensely and hungrily he was biting. He hands gripped my waist strongly; I wanted him to fill every crevice of my mouth with his tongue, and like a command he did so. He kissed me so deeply, holding my head so tightly I knew it would leave fingernail marks, his tongue fighting for every taste of sweet passion my mouth could possibly hold.
I had been dreaming of this for years.
His hands had long since left my shoulder; they slipped under the fabric of my shirt and cupped my breast so tenderly it made me moan in the back of my throat. Automatically, I was already arching my back towards him.
When it ended, (lord, let it happen again,) he pulled back, sobbing still, his face wet with tears. I stared at him, gasping for breath, my hands around his neck. He looked at me so desperately, his hands gripping my face, his face screwed up to prevent more crying.
I didn't blame him in the least.
He lifted his wand to my temple again.
"I love you, Hermione," he whispered, running his thumb over my cheek. My eyes were wide with surprise and joy.
He kissed me again, whispering in my ear continually, "God, I love you so much."
He opened his mouth to speak, gazing longingly into my eyes, his hand shaking against my head for the very last time.
Author's note: Ya! That was my first ever one shot! I wanted to do something like this so badly!
It's kind of sad, isn't it?
It's alright though. It's supposed to be like that.
The song lyrics in this are from Linkin Park, One Step Closer. And I think I may have messed up the lyrics a bit too. Oh well.