To all the wizards I have loved before

Chapter 6

Hey sorry I haven't updated in a while but Wattpad has been a bitch to me lately. I haven't been able to update because Wattpad keeps on having "technical problems", yeah right. Technical problems my ass...sorry again. Hope you are hanging in there. I might crack under the stress but I'll manage to update as often as possible. Love all you strange and unusual humans 💞

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Draco couldn't sleep.

He felt, well, strange.

He was happy, but peaceful.

Worried, but calm.

Draco believed he may be going mad.

He tossed and turned, but sleep refused to over take him. So, Draco climbed out of his four poster bed, and padded along the cold dungeon floor, out of his dormitory.

The Slytherin common room was cold and vacant, as it should have been according to the clock hanging over the entrance to the Slytherin's dwelling place.

Draco jumped as the clock chimed, a sound that could chill even the pale haired Slytherin himself to the bone, signalling a new hour and the end of the past one.

He sighed as the heartless time teller declared the time as 4 o'clock of the next morning.

He'd been grasping for more than drowsiness for almost six hours, maybe more.

Purple circles were expected to appear beneath his sharp, icy grey eyes.

He was sure to appear much more pale as a result. This, would only look normal, though.
His pale coloring was usual and seemed to go well with Hermione's henna skin.

They were like yin and yang, chocolate and vanilla, black and white.

Maybe that was why they seemed to blend together so well.

Draco pondered his new thought for quite a long while.

He was just finishing reminiscing on Hermione's slap across Draco's well deserving thirteen year old face when he was startled yet again by the obnoxious clock.

Realizing the time, Draco estimated he zoned out for a rather long time and tuned out the time teller's loud chimes for 3 hours.

Rubbing his now purple rimmed eyes, Draco resided to his now bustling dormitory.

And he continued to prepare himself for the adrenaline run day that was to come.

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Finding a place to sit to consume some sort of breakfast at the Gryffindor table deemed impossible.

It wasn't because there was no space, it was because Hermione couldn't move to take a seat anywhere at the table without receiving penetrating, loathe filled stares from her fellow Gryffindors.

Hermione didn't seem very bothered by this to the onlooker. She was rather bothered by the fact that not only was Ron cold shouldering her now, but so was Harry.

He didn't even lift a finger to stop the persecution that was being inflicted on Hermione since the display with her and Draco the previous morning.

Harry just glared at her coldly when she entered the Great Hall and busied himself with some toast and marmalade.

Frowning, Hermione stalked, defeated out of the Great Hall, grasping her bag and two pastries she had managed to snag.

She proceeded to her Oak, the one place she could go now without facing any judgement or persecution from her peers.

Slouching against the old Oak, Hermione busied herself with her pastry. It was a cherry turnover, her favorite.

Huffing, she took a large bite, followed by a satisfied sigh.

The house elves were extraordinary bakers.

Smiling, Hermione remembered her attempts at freeing the house elves of Hogwarts through S.P.E.W.

They were stubborn creatures, yet obeying.

Hermione chuckled to herself as she took another bite out of her cherry turnover.

She nearly choked on her next piece when she heard the crunch of leaves behind her.

"Heyyyy Grangerrrrr." Cooed an all too familiar voice.

Hermione coughed.

"What do you want Parkinson?" She snapped at the dark haired witch.

Pansy Parkinson came into view from behind Hermione's Oak tree.

Her pug face seemed aglow with malice.

"Oh nothing, she sneered," that I can have that is."

Hermione glared daggers at the Slytherin.

Pansy Parkinson could have anything but not anyone.

"Is that so?" Hermione inquired curtly.

Pansy nodded, irritated.

"It's a shame, she continued in a mock sorrowful voice, "that I have to talk to a mudblood to figure why I can't have what I want."

She studied her finger nails, waiting for a furious retort, or a silent tear to be shed.

But Hermione was unimpressed. She didn't even flinch when called that dreadful word anymore.

No Slytherin had directly addressed her as a mudblood as a sixth year. Hermione had thought they may have renounced their primitive ways after Umbridge's downfall the previous year, but she was proved wrong nonetheless.

"Well I hope you fancy pondering your question for a long while, Hermione smirked at Pansy's furious contorted pug face, "I can't answer that question, only he can and as he can't stand the sight of your pug face, I don't reckon you'll ever find the answer, love."

"What have you, a mudblood, scum, Pansy snarled, "that I lack? Buck teeth? An insufferable know-it-all complex? You are nothing, you will never be anything more than a one month fling to him...and deep down, beneath your thick ignorance, you know that. We both do. No one means anything to him; not me, and most certainly not you."

Pansy's face now held something in resemblance to sympathy, which chilled Hermione to the bone.

Pansy Parkinson was many things.

Cruel, most certainly. A bit of a slag, yes. A prejudiced pureblood, most definitely.

But one thing Hermione never believed would be true in the life of Nicholas Flammel, was that she was right.

About Draco.

He had never hesitated to fling a clueless, lovestruck schoolgirl to the side to seduce another with his charms.

Hermione realized something she should have straight away.

It all added up.

Draco letting her use him in the library.

Draco suggesting the fake couple.

Draco revealing their fake relationship to all of Hogwarts.

And now, Draco fooling her into falling into his use.

Making her no different from any other ignorant schoolgirl.

Making a fool out of her by causing her to become what she swore she would never come back to being.

A hopeless, lovestruck, ignorant little girl.

Falling hard and fast for who she fancies.