A Kingdom Beside the Sea (Dramione)

Chapter 3

A.

She slapped him. He had never been slapped by anyone in his entire life. Pansy, after, and some faceless girl in his seventh year. But Granger was what he really remembered, from the look on her face to the bite of her palm. There had always been a level of violence between them. Physical, or the need to cut with words, to tear the other open, to make them hurt.

"--over people, because you're so much better, right? You're always higher and better and more worthy--"

"Jealous?" he hissed, smacking her hand, but she only raised it up again, shoving her finger into his chest.

"--disgusting person I've ever had to endure--"

"Because you're not the greatest test of patience anyone could encounter! You blindly--"

"--in that overinflated head of yours! Maybe you were brought up to think you were something special or important--"

"--desperate to prove you're something more than your past, than Harry Potter and Ron--"

"You don't know what you're talking about! And I'm the one that's desperate to prove myself?" She laughed, cold and fake. "You—"

"Yes! All you are known for is being that Muggle-bo--" He cut off, her words breaking through his own. "I don't need a list of my past actions, I know them well enough!"

"Yeah, heard them recited to you in courtrooms, pri--"
"Like you have heard your own through countless retelling of camping trips and--" "Do not belittle what we went through! You--"
"Then don't belittle what I have!" he yelled.

"Yours were deserved!" "And you had a choice!"

They stood, wide-eyed and out of breath, glaring at one another. He batted her hand away from him, resisting the urge to rub the spot that burned. She rubbed her finger with the pad of her thumb, her inhale shaky. The first time they had landed on this topic of conversation, they had fought until it was hard to speak through the raw soreness of their throats. He had grabbed her hand-- no, her wrist. He had grabbed her wrist the first time she shoved a finger into his shoulder, and had squeezed it so hard that her face had twisted in pain before she had kicked him in the kneecap.

"I can't go outside and get my own water, Malfoy. You saw to that. I refuse to only be given an allotment per week, and just make sure I don't run out, and to deal with it if I do. I am not an animal, no matter what you might think--"

"Don't." Hard, firm, demanding. They had that fight already, too.

She sniffed. "I don't understand why you pull the water up from the well instead of just using your wand. Are you afraid I'll take it from you?"

"I'm not afraid of you, Granger." "Then why don't--"

Draco turned away from her, not wanting to keep denying her an answer. It was pointless, annoying, a waste of time. "Stop wasting so much water. I'm not a house-elf. Fuck, you treat a house-elf better than--"

"Well, at least they deserve to be treated with respect," she said hotly, and he turned back towards her.

"Just because--"

"Oh, yes, Malfoy. Tell me why you deserve respect after locking me in your house. Please. Dying to hear it. Don't make it the list of threats again, though, I'm getting a bit sick of those."

He took three steps towards her, scowling. "If you--" "You're like a pink snake."

His mouth hung open over his words for a long moment before he snapped it shut with a click, staring at her like her mind had just shot out from the top of her head. "What?"