Hermione and Draco, a Forbidden Fantasy (Dramione) - Completed

Self Inflicted

Draco took great stretching strides through the snow and away from the Shrieking Shack. His heart was pounding and his body was burning; the warmth in such contrast to what he usually had inside him. He had left everything good about him in that shack along with everything that he could ever hope for; but Draco had learned that hope and trust are luxuries that even he could not afford. He headed back to the castle tearing himself apart as he walked further and further away from her.

The feeling that she gave him just emphasised his agony without her. His mind flashed to Pansy; perhaps he could use her as a distraction. At the same time as feeling as though it would help him, he couldn’t help but feel bad that she came to mind after the moments he had just spent with Hermione. He remembered her hand on his arm, how fragile her body felt in his arms. He couldn’t even explain how amazing it was.

She felt like a warm shower in the winter, she smelt like lavender and wild berries, her lips tasted like strawberries and to know that he was the one to experience her was like the first rays of sunshine in the summer. Her intoxicating scent still lingered on his clothing and he was breathing in so deeply just to keep that smell in his body.

When he finally made it back to the common room after a slow, purposeful walk from Hogsmeade, he sat himself in an armchair by the fire. Though the day had been cold he had only shivered from bliss. And now, sitting in front of the fire his body began to cool. He was coming off the high that she gave him and he could feel himself tumbling back down into his true heart; his cold, unfeeling heart.

He closed his eyes and tried as hard as was possible for him to imagine her back in his arms. All he could feel in his arms was a vast and never ending amount of nothing. Nothing would fill him as much as she did. She filled his entire being with only the slightest touch.

Even her smell had faded from him. Again he felt empty; void of anything worth having. She was becoming his drug of choice. Every moment he spent with her just made every moment he spent without her twice as agonising.

His body weak, he lifted himself up and walked to his dormitory. With his hand rubbing over the underside of his arm he ascended the stairs and then opened the door. When he looked towards his bed he saw Pansy lying there looking up at him.

“About time. Where the hell have you been all day?”

“Hogsmeade.” He didn’t look back at her he just milled around the room.

“You didn’t run into the mudblood again did you?” She sneered.

“I did run into Her-… Granger, yes.”

“I hope you crushed her like the insolent little bug she is.”

Draco said nothing; his lips tingled with the memory of hers.

“Why is it that you keep running into her? Anyone would think it was on purpose.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t be stupid, and I definitely gave her something to remember.”

Pansy sniggered, “Good, she’ll be the first to go.”