Fascination|𝐴 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 (𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚛 3, 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine | Look What You Made Me Do

Look What You Made Me Do, by Taylor Swift

Draco stared at the book lying on the table before him. Her voice rang in his ears, barely above a whisper. "Goodbye." He couldn't shut it out. That single word repeated in his head over and over again. Every whisper, like a knife stabbing into his heart. Draco squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fist. He felt hot and suddenly dizzy, but it wasn't out of anger as before. Draco's anger had faded completely, only to be replaced by comeplete and utter pain.

   Pain and agony. He felt pity for himself as he never had before. All those other times he'd ever felt sorry for himself had been for stupid and idiotic reasons. They didn't hold a candle to the pain he was feeling now. They didn't hold a spark compared the the blazing wildfire that was this reason. The reason he now knew what pity truly was.

   Draco sank into a chair beside the table and buried his face in his hands. How could he have been so stupid? Hermione had been standing right in front of him, quite literally within his grasp, and he'd let her slip through his fingers. Draco let out a long moan and swallowed the bile that had risen int he back of his throat. He suddenly felt sick. The nausea was nothing new considering he hadn't eaten nor slept in days, but it was something else that caused him to feel... almost queasy. He didn't know if it was the idea of her leaving him or the pain of seeing her again and not being able to take her in his arms and comfort her.

Draco had sought her out in hopes he'd be able to explain... in hopes of fixing everything then he let her slip through his fingers. She'd said her goodbye, and Draco knew that it was permanent. It was her way of saying that she would never forgive him. That she would never take him back. It was her way of saying goodbye, forever. Draco let out a cry that sounded like a wounded animal. Madam Pince either didn't have the heart to shush him or he hadn't heard her.

   Either way, Draco continued to sob. He'd whispered her name, pouring his heart out in that one single word. Her name. Hermione. Because that was everything she was to him. His Hermione. Not Granger, not mudblood, but Hermione. The brightest witch of her age, part of the golden trio and the girl he was in love with. And she would always be his Hermione, because she held his heart.

   But he let her go. He let her go without another word. It was better that way. It was better this way. Soon, her heart would heal, and she would move on. After time, she would start seeing other men... Weaselbee most likely, and she would start a new life with someone else. Draco knew that he himself would never move on. His heart would never heal, but it was safer for Hermione this way. He hadn't thought of it before, but this way she would get a better life. If they had ended up together it would have only meant misery for her. Their parents, their friends, the professors even, nobody approved obviously at least now she was out of the "toxic" relationship. At least now she would be free.

Draco didn't know how long he had been sitting there, his head buried in his arms and his face pressed against the table when Crabbe, Blaise and Pike came into the library, apparently in search of him. They succeeded and convinced him to accompany them down to the grounds for some fresh air. "You've been under for too long mate. We were just going out, why don't you join us?" Draco wasn't certain if by under Blaise meant under the weather, or under the influence of his inferiors, as in mudbloods. His tone shifted towards the ladder.

   Anger swelled in his chest and Draco growled, he could the heat rising to his face. He clenched his fists until his fingernails dug into his palms. Crabbe and Pike seemed unaware of Draco's rising temper but Blaise took a step back, not wanting to be hexed. Draco realized that his hand was on his drawn wand and his jaw had begun to throb from how tightly he had been clenching it. It was in that moment that he realized that his anger had blinded him to the point of which he didn't even realize what he was doing. This whole situation had had him on edge and turned him into someone... or something he never wanted to be.