Tainted - {d.m. & h.g.}

five - confrontation | tasks

  (tw: self harm)

song: cry - cigarettes after sex

HERMIONE

Her bones crack as she creeps awake from her drowse on the couch, letting her arms stretch above her head, a yawn escaping her lips in the process. Her eyes flutter open slowly, and it takes a moment for her to register her surroundings— the Gryffindor common room. She uses the palm of her hand to leverage herself into a sitting position, careful to not wake the other three students that are still immersed in slumber.

Classes will begin the day after tomorrow— so she'd need spend the day preparing; and she dreads it, but she'll have to make the apprehensive visit to her shared flat with the viciously blonde wizard to settle in.

She lifts from the couch, slipping on her shoes— not even bothering to tie them properly. She reaches down and pulls the knitted blanket over Ginny's shoulder; as the room had grown chilled throughout the night. She grabs the thick occlumency book that sits on the carpet next to where Ginny's hair falls in cascades down the front of the couch. She studies the dark grey binding, letting her finger trace the dark red elaborate font that decorates the cover.

"Please help me," she mouths to the empty space before her— to no one in particular.

Because she does. She needs help. She needs help occluding the godforsaken memories that are occupying too much room in her already jammed packed brain, and there's one thing she hates more than failing; and it's hinged around asking for help subsequently after failing. She thought it to be embarrassing, asking for assistance in any matter. Weak.

She's thankful it's quiet— no students seem to be up for the day yet. She quietly creeps to the exit of the Gryffindor common room, stepping through the portrait hole after it creaks open for her exit. She tugs the key from her robes, placing the golden object on her flat palm, watching as the shank vibrates and swivels around to guide her to her newfound living quarters.

After minutes of following, its directions, it leads her to a dark, arched wooden door that is situated in one of the corners deep in the castle's realms. She smiles to herself thinking about how she'd be utterly ecstatic to have the opportunity to live here if she weren't destined to live with the snake ridden devil himself. She shoves the key in, twisting until it clicks open— hesitantly pushing it open with both of her palms.

She hears a gasp leave her lips as the creaking door slowly brings the common room into vision. Black and white themed— ornate furnishings— it's beautiful. Her eyes immediately find the rows of books— she swiftly strides directly to the wooden credenza that encases an array of them, letting her fingers brush across the rounded spines. They had all been recovered with custom fabric— a black base with silver font etched into each of them. It had always been a dream of hers to own a library— getting all the books custom bound with a covering to clone one another.

Her daze of libraries and parchment is rudely interrupted by the screech of a door opening. Malfoy side steps out of the lavatory with dripping hair that clings to his forehead in a shaggy manner; and hands that clutch a towel wrapped around his waist. He halts abruptly in his step when he senses her presence, a look of hatred written all over his facial features.

Her breath catches in her throat at the sight of his bare chest— a winding scar travels from shoulder to shoulder, a precise design that looks almost as if it were art, purposely placed there to disrupt the skin of his sternum.

His eyes, however, immediately draw to the occlumency book that had ended up tucked under her armpit in the process of entering the room— his eyebrows draw together, confusion clearly present in his emotion, "Didn't expect you to be here," he groans, distaste rolling off his tongue— eyes meeting hers as his hands tighten around the cloth that hung low on his hips.