Here's a short chapter to ease you back in the story. The rest of them will be the same length as the chapters before.
DRACO
I'm walking back up to the Head's common room, when I see a flash of blonde. A sob. A sniffle.
"Hello?" I call out tiredly. If there's one thing I hate, it's sobbing females. But lately one particular female hasn't been so annoying...
I'm pulled from my thoughts when I hear another sob. I turn the corner and see Angela sitting there, glazed eyes staring at nothing. For some odd reason, her hair is half green, half blonde. My face automatically forms a scowl. What's she doing here?
When she sees me, she looks away. "Why are you here?" I ask coldly.
"I don't think you'd care," she says in the same tone, only it's broken by a wavering sob.
I see her wipe her face and shiver. Disgust goes through me, strong and clear, but then I realize what I'm doing. Shame comes along with the hatred. Despite Hermione's animosity towards Angela, and vice versa, I can't just leave her here.
"Do you want to come in?" I ask awkwardly, a hand over my hair.
"I don't think you want me," she says again.
In a flash, I'm in front of her. My eyes burn as I try to keep my emotions down. "Of course I don't," I snarl. "You broke Hermione's heart." She looks away and I push down the growing contempt. "But... I also know she wouldn't just leave you like this." I shrug reluctantly. "Come in please."
She gets up, walking without difficulty despite her tears. She still has dignity within her - one that all purebloods have. My thoughts flash to Hermione. She's a muggleborn and yet she's as regal sometimes as my mother.
I say the password and gesture for her to walk in. She does and stands awkwardly near the fireplace. "Sit down," I say. She does and then looks away.
Merlin, this is awkward. Why couldn't I just have ignored her and slammed the door?
Hermione's chocolate brown eyes appear in my mind and I swallow.
"Let's get to the point," I snap when she still doesn't say anything. "Why are you being such an arse to Hermione Granger?"
I expect her to glare or say something rude, but instead her lip quivers - and she starts crying. I sit there awkwardly and finger my wand. Maybe I should just stun her and get her out of here. Then she sits up, voice shaky.
"I lost everything after the Battle of Hogwarts," she says quietly. "Everything. My parents abandoned me, the Death Eaters fled, and I was left alone here. In this Hogwarts." She gestures around, her eyes shining with tears. I sit there mutely, half asleep. I've heard enough sob stories from Blaise and God knows who else; I'm not going to start crying with her. "Then I met him." I know who she's talking about.
"He and his perfect girlfriend, Hermione Granger." She laughs bitterly and I sit up, my grip on my wand growing tighter. "To me..." she pauses, eyes faraway, her face regretful, "she symbolized everything I couldn't have. She was a Gryffindor. A soon-to-be-Auror. Parents that love her... A boyfriend who cares... And there's me, still hated at heart."
"And when I realized you cared for her" - I stiffen but she doesn't seem to notice - "I couldn't bear it. Two guys and two best friends, all going for Hermione Granger. And I care for Ron... Nobody seems to realize that he's always under Harry's shadow. He's accepted it... Both of them have gotten over it... But he needs me. I know it."
I want to kick her out now. The growing conviction in her voice makes me sick. But she continues. "And Hermione cares for you. I know that too. So... I thought... Maybe it'd work out. Maybe I could have him and she could have you."
I stand up, my wand in front of me. "That's not how it works," I spit, gray eyes colder than ever. "You can't just choose who you want to end up with; you can't break them apart. They love each other." But as I'm saying these words, there's a twisting in my stomach that won't go away. Does she? I wonder. Of course she does. Can't you tell?
She wipes away a tear and says in a matter-of-fact tone, "Well, at least why you know why I'm acting like such a b - "
I shake my head, cutting her off. "That's for Hermione to decide when she returns," I say quietly, voice steady.
She nods and turns to leave.
I watch her retreating back, mind now focused on one thing. Hermione cares for you. She cares about you.
She loves the Weasel, I think automatically. Another twist goes through my chest. But.. Is it true? Does she care for me?
We kissed once. And that one on my cheek...
But that was when she was hurting over him.
She doesn't hate you, at least, the snide voice in my head thinks. She said that herself - but she still doesn't like you.
I sit down on one of the couches, ignoring nail marks I'm making into the wand. Suddenly Hermione's absence has never been more obvious.
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1/1/16:
Currently, there's an Instagram account for these stories :) The account will have...
•SNEAK PEEKS TWICE A WEEK FOR THE STORY I'D BE WORKING ON
•MINI CONTESTS
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I've already created an Instagram account that will have all of these things. The username is
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