Cover credits to @callagraphics
Two broken souls, two lives laced with nightmares and fears of the non-existent. Both fighting their own demons.
Draco Malfoy, former death eater and the prince of Slytherin is not the cocky, arrogant, and prejudiced...
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10th October, 1998
Hermione rolled over, pulling the sheets all the way to her chest, curling herself in a ball. She wiped the beads of cold sweat from her upper lip. She closed her eyes, trying to stop herself from shaking.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to pull open the potions' drawer and drown all the tiny glass bottles but she knew better. Her body was already getting addicted and she didn't want to worsen her condition.
She needed to be strong enough to fight this on her own.
She clenched her fist against the soft material of her sheets and tried to think of something else. Something good.
But all that came to mind was the image of her parents laying in a pool of blood on the cold, tiled floor and her holding a wand over them with the same menacing look on her face that had started to haunt her nightmares a little too frequently.
She threw the sheets away and got up, her feet warm against the cool floor. She plucked her jumper from her closet and put it on. She had been avoiding going down to the common room ever since she had found out that Malfoy frequented that place but tonight, he would have to adjust.
The room seemed to close in around her and she took a shuddering breath before rushing out.
Even though she knew he would be there in the shadows, she still felt a wave of disappointment on actually seeing him.
He looked up as she approached. His brows folded together with what Hermione assumed was confusion before he placed the mask back in place and just stared at her blankly. It was like staring back at a corpse.
"Scoot over," she muttered and was surprised by the lack of hostility in her voice.
He looked ready to protest but something stopped him. Maybe Hermione's fears were visible on her face. He closed his mouth and made space for her.
Hermione tried to level her breathing, her fists clenched so tightly it started to cut into her skin. She focused on the flickering flames in front of her but her vision was getting blurry.
No. Not here. Not now, Hermione.
Yet, she couldn't stop herself from shaking. Tears collected at the corner of her eyes and she regretted her decision to come down here when she knew he would be there.
"Granger?" His voice cut through her thoughts sharply.
"What?"
"I asked if you're okay."
Hermione tore her eyes away from the flames and turned her head to look at him, her vision a little blurry.
Gray eyes stared back, so deep she felt like she could drown in them. He had the lightest blue at the edges, almost unnoticeable because of the way it blended with the gray.
