Yours in Mayhem |Dramione

32 yours in agitation, apprehension, appreciation

"What did he ever do for you?" Draco scoffed. Hermione opened her pretty mouth and looked at him in utter disbelief, chocolate brown eyes squinting. "He's only an animal. I'm sure you have much better things to worry about with all the classes that you're taking."

"Who are you to say that? Why do you always deem yourself higher than everyone when in fact the truth is that you don't know anything!" She jabbed a finger at his chest. "Why do you always assume that every single thing is about you, huh? So what if Buckbeak didn't let you ride him? Is that reason enough for him to be put down? Answer me!"

"It's just an animal, Hermione," he can't look at her now. She was so close and he didn't mean to say her name in a really low tone. Like he was feeling it vibrate in his chest. She smelled like sunshine and the sweets of Honeydukes. Gods, she must have went with Ronald Weasley. He is yet to punch the prat in the throat. Unholy fucker. He looks away for a minute and that lanky ginger pauper takes her away. The mere thought set his rage afresh.

"If you're going to continue in that way of thinking then it is best if you stop talking to me. Don't talk to me ever again," Hermione hissed. She was close to tears, he can feel it. There was a rumble in her voice-- one that he hasn't heard before-- her voice is breaking.

He was still looking out the window. The droplets hitting the window pane gently, running down leaving wet roads. It would be nice to watch them race. "Fine," he whispered but he was breaking too. He missed her. He can't be with her in the hallways, partly because of House rivalry and partly because she's friends with people he just can't help but dislike. He remembers that he will develop a tolerance to Harry Potter in his later years but that was then and this is now. Now he would serve as the Golden Trio's shadow and that would be fine.

Then there's their timeturners. If she turns back time while he's near, disaster will occur somewhere. A random spontaneous disaster. Like a cauldron randomly exploding. Like a bird suddenly dropping dead. He won't take any chances.

"Why are you being like this?" She crossed her arms to her chest, moving her jaw slightly. He can tell that she's trying hard not to cry. "I thought we were friends."

"You do an awful lot of thinking, don't you, Granger? Awful lot of believing too. That's why I'm going to be at the top of the class this year. I wouldn't cry now if I were you. Save it," a cold feeling came over him. Merlin, even he knows he's being immature.

"You don't mean that. I know you don't mean that," a stubborn tear spilled on her creamy cheek. "Why are you being like this?" She was getting angry now, sadness and disappointment replaced by fire and demand. "Answer me right now, Draco Malfoy!"

Her eyes were glowing with purpose. Amber against gray. Sand storm to the rain clouds. Summer to the winter.

And she won.

"Fucking fine," he hissed through gritted teeth. "The truth is I actually have--"

He hiccuped.

He touched his throat and started trying to stop the hiccups by speaking. But it persisted. He can't breathe, he felt that his lungs are conspiring against him. His whole body as well, as his heart. Doesn't your heart stop beating every time you hiccup?

This caused him a surge of panic and he gripped at the nearest shelf. It shook in his sudden force.

Hermione might have seen that he was turning slightly blue in the face and ruled out that he was just acting. "Hey, Malfoy. Stop it."

The sooner he decided that he will not tell her the hiccups stopped and the inner chokehold on his throat loosened.

Never tell her.