mudblood. (dramione fanfiction)

chapter thirteen: somnium

"My Father says I can keep the Hippogriffs head. Think I'll donate it to Gryffindor's common room..."

The familiarly insufferable voice said from in an outside courtyard. Completely flustered with anger, Hermione stormed out and towards the blonde idiot, standing with one of his minions. Whoever was beside him, it didn't matter. Malfoy was the reason for her anger. The git's truly outdone himself this time!

Draco stood, leaning against a concrete pillar with smug swag pasted on his face. Revolting.

The cunning Slytherin averted his eyes to Hermione's as she strode quickly towards him, with the Weasel and Saint Potter trailing behind her as per-fucking-usual. He had thought many times how good he and she would be if they teamed up. With her geek powers and his irresistibly good looks, who knows what kind of duo the world would have to face!

If only she didn't possess that intolerable temper.

"Ah! Come to see the show?" he clicked his tongue, smirking devilishly to the fuming girl.

Hermione pushed back her brown curly hair behind her ears, coming merely a locks length from the boy, "You!" Hermione began, "You foul loathsome evil little cockroach!" she yelled, outstretching her arm and pointing her wand to his neck. The tip pressed against his neck, pressing down on his pale skin, as he fell back against the wall again, pleading for mercy under his breath. His prior cocky ego was as good as ripped to ribbons.

"Hermione, no! He's not worth it!" Ron exclaimed, warning Hermione of the danger she could put herself in if she hurt the Merlin-sent boy. Her eyes stayed on Draco's. They were a striking shade of silver, and full of fear at the tip of her wand. Merlin, this was entertaining.

Lowering her wand, she turned away from the useless boy. Ron was right, and he indeed wasn't worth it. Behind her, faintly, she heard a snigger escape his taunting lips. And so, she turned at her heels again to face him once more.

And perhaps this was the part where she should have hit him, slapped him, or at least served that poor Hippogriff some justice. But instead, she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him forward; crashing her lips on his own. The world around them faded. Nothing else mattered at that moment, just the warmth of Draco's soft yet demanding touch. But it wasn't whole. His lips weren't entirely there, he felt like he was slipping away from her quickly, and Hermione could only hold him for so long.

"Hermione," a girl's voice cut in, and Hermione opened her eyes to see Draco fading away from her grasp.

"No! Come back!" Hermione reached out, trying to get hold of his jacket once more. Oh, that sweet jacket, she swore she could faintly smell that intoxicatingly delicious cologne he wore. But her hands failed her, and she watched in devastation as he disappeared from her world.

"Hermione! It's Angelina, wake up for Merlin's sake!"

With a shaking ferocity, Hermione jolted awake with a gasp. She sat up, turning to face Angelina; the girl she had joined in the hospital only yesterday. Or was it two days ago? What was going on?

"What –" Hermione paused as her dreams unfolded in her mind. She looked at the end of the bed where her legs lie, uncovered by a blanket that had been thrashed off in her sleep. "I'm here now?"

Angelina put a hand on her shoulder, "You're safe now, Hermione. You're back at the town again. The Death Eaters are gone."

"Gone?" Hermione asked, feeling slightly nauseous from the spinning in her head. There was a bitter taste ingrained on her taste buds. She recalled the events of the night. Draco had hit her with an Avada, but she lived. And they had sat on his bed, and he had given her this sweater she wore. But after that, everything was blurry. Now she was back with the Order.