bleedingangel84 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bleedingangel84) wrote2011-02-02 10:41 am
bleedingangel84) wrote2011-02-02 10:41 am
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Fallen: A Thwarted Love Story, 5/12
Draco separated from Hermione only when his need for air overrode his craving for the softness of her warm lips. It was several minutes before the pair was able to breathe normally again. The Slytherin noted the crimson blush on Hermione’s face with no small amount of satisfaction. She looks so beautiful flushed like that, he thought to himself, my very own wild rose.
“Malf-Draco, that was-that—I have to go,” Hermione stuttered. With that, the Gryffindor hurried from the room to meet her waiting friends, not stopping to look back until the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was well behind her. Anyone watching her at that moment would have seen the small smile that curved her lips. Willing herself to walk sedately to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, she took in her friends worried expressions. Shooting Harry and Ron an apologetic smile, Hermione calmly began spooning stew into her plate. Ron was eyeing her curiously. She looked up from her task when she felt his nudge.
“What, Ronald?” she asked. “Where were you? You’re a half hour late,” he said. Hermione wiped her mouth with her napkin before answering. “I had to ask Professor Snape a question about today’s lesson, that’s all,” she answered. Ron gazed at her skeptically before tucking into his mashed potatoes, but did not press her further. She inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like she had somehow dodged a bullet.
Hermione continued to eat her lunch, glancing occasionally at the doors of the Great Hall with careful nonchalance, waiting for the Slytherin to appear. It was not long before he did, looking thoughtfully at her as he passed the Golden trio. She got the distinct impression that there was a multitude of thoughts hidden in those stormy silver orbs. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if he was regretting their kiss. There was wistfulness in his body language that made her nervous.
For his part, Draco was wondering if he had made a mistake revealing his feelings to the Gryffindor. All of his father’s teachings about the supremacy of pure-blood wizards echoed through his head constantly, so that there seemed to be a low hum in the back of his mind. He knew that pure-blood doctrines were garbage, but that did not change what was expected of him as heir to the Malfoy name and fortune. His family had ridden to power on the backs of such beliefs, and he was bred to uphold those ideas at all cost, despite what he might have otherwise felt.
Draco felt grateful when the Great Hall began to empty of students. He pulled himself out of his stupor briefly and let himself by carried along to the wide front doors with another group of sixth year Slytherin boys, thanking Merlin that he had a study period after lunch. He couldn’t have got through another class with the Gryffindors just then if he’d wanted to. The taste of Hermione was still on his lips, sending his head spinning.
Down in the Slytherin common room, Malfoy dropped gracefully into an ornate cushioned seat and exhaled a loud breath. Quite deliberately, he pushed the sleeve of his robe up, looking with distaste at the Dark Mark that marred his otherwise porcelain skin. An ugly, hideous thing, it seemed to mock him with its protruding tongue, whispering of all the things that would forever be denied him because of his family and its twisted allegiances. He could not stop seeing Hermione’s face in his mind’s eye.
The beautiful Gryffindor had stolen his heart at first glance. She was there in all her incarnations as Draco’s mind continued to whirl. He saw her as he’d seen her during first year and every one thereafter. He saw her as she had been that very afternoon when they had kissed-her cheeks hot, eyes blazing with a fire that was passion without anger.
He saw himself as he had always been to her: a villain. His parents had trained him for such things from an early age. He had always put her down the worst when his feelings for her became more than he could stand. As the Mark winked up at him, he realized that Voldemort would use his feelings for Hermione as a means to get the things he wanted from Draco. Voldemort would use him to hurt Hermione, and by proxy, Potter. The Dark Lord was more than aware of how highly Potter valued those he cared for, and would exploit the trait in any way that he could. Malfoy knew that he could not allow Hermione to be hurt simply as bait for Harry Potter. Much as it pained him, his only course of action was to pursue her no further until Voldemort was nothing but a distant memory. He would do anything he could to ensure that that reality came to pass, no matter how much it hurt the both of them.