Dangerously

Chapter 3

Keeping her distance from Draco was proving to be the best thing for Hermione at the moment. She was becoming overwhelmed quickly. Burying herself into her work seemed to ease her wandering mind, but it kept shooting back to the one thing or person she was trying to ignore.

Waking up inside of Draco's flat had made her realize she was becoming too close to him—letting another person get too close too quickly. Especially becoming close to someone like Draco, who was only out for one thing. She knew his reputation—especially firsthand. Draco Malfoy was a selfish prat who had a long list of girls he had manipulated into slipping into bed with him. She was refusing to let herself be manipulated as well.

Hermione found herself ignoring every call. Every knock at her door. Wrapping herself in blankets and squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart was torn apart thinking of how Ron had not truly cared for her.

Maybe I may have done something wrong?

The things he did had nothing to do with her and more to do with himself, but no matter how hard Hermione tried to convince herself of that she still was crying in her bed every night—tears burning her swollen cheeks, begging to an empty room why or how he could throw them away like that.

Her chest aching for answers, her heavy gasps escaping her lips, the feeling as if she was drowning and no matter how hard she tried to swim towards the surface she was being held under.

The space in her apartment was cold and felt lonely again, but maybe she wanted that. Maybe she needed it.

Devastation filled her entire being. Never truly understanding her naivety.

Every night she held a jumper of his close to her, inhaling how he once smelled before she had clouded his scent.

She clutched onto the ring he promised would be replaced with something better one day. She played with it in her hand, holding it to her heart, begging for things to go back to how it used to be. The cold, silver—chilling her bones, breaking every part of her. The ring was a hollow promise, a broken promise. Something to perhaps impress her at the time and make her feel loved.

I was living a lie, wasn't I?

She lived a beautiful lie, a lie she was tempted to go back to because of how this loneliness was eating her.

Every night for two weeks, she begged to whatever entity there was out there, why, why, why.

She wished she had still been ignorant and ignored the signs. She wished she had complained less been better.

Maybe then she would have been good enough for him.

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Countless notes were sent to her office and were slipped under her apartment door.

H,

Movies tonight? I want to talk to you.

- D

Every note, crumbled, tossed in the trash. The small feelings that resurfaced with Draco were overwhelming and jolted her. She couldn't handle it.

She needed to let all the pain in so she would never let it happen again. With anyone. She needed to not let herself think of letting Ronald Weasley get anywhere close to her again.

Draco was unavoidable, to say the least. Draco eventually picked up the hint that space was what she needed or maybe he just found a new flavor to satisfy him. Hermione still communicated with his department and when she would come by he seemed to always be very chatty with Audrey, his secretary.