~ TRY AGAIN ~
DRAMIONE
WARNING: Character death! Swearing.
WORDS: 1.5K
A/N: Sorry, I changed it up a bit from the post I made about this fic the snippet of text. So, it's not exactly what I said it would be!
Hermione finally decided to go outside. The library was far too stuffy and there was a chattering group of third-year girls nearby. As she placed her book back on its shelf, Draco rounded the corner of the aisle and stopped at the sight of her standing there.
āShit! Malfoy!ā Hermione yelped quietly in surprise.
āOh, finally,ā he sneered, staring at her. āI was looking everywhere for you.ā
āOf course you were! And I bet I know what you want to talk about,ā Hermione whispered harshly, turning around to face Draco. āAll you ever want to fucking talk about is us!ā
Dracoās face registered hurt and then quickly switched back to his usual sneer. āSo? Youāre scared to talk about it at all,ā he muttered, leaning forward so that Hermione could feel his hot breath on her cheek. āAre you scared of me, darling?ā
He felt her body tense underneath him and he smiled. He tilted her chin upward and put his arm on the bookshelf behind her so that his body was practically touching hers, but not quite.
āDraco!ā she gasped.āNot here!ā
āHmmmā¦ perhaps an empty classroom?ā he suggested.
Hermione tried to object but then she realized there was no point and settled for a look of pure hatred instead.
She followed him to an empty classroom and closed and locked the door behind her.
āI think we could try again. Please trust me. Itās okay, donāt worry,ā Draco assured her as he sat her down on top of the teacherās desk.
āDraco, I really donāt know,ā Hermione mumbled, closing her eyes and taking Dracoās hand in hers.
āPlease, darling? For me?ā Draco pleaded with her, squeezing her hand tightly.
Even though she enjoyed watching him beg with her, she reluctantly sighed and nodded her head. Draco smiled and felt grateful for the opportunity. He knew he only had one chance and he had to be careful.
Draco placed a hand on her waist and leaned forward so that their lips almost met, but he paused, thinking of how lucky he was to have this opportunity and how beautiful Hermione was at that moment. He slowly breathed in and then tilted his face forward so that his li-
Hermione pulled away, hopped off of the desk, and landed with a dull thud as Draco tried to comprehend what had just happened. She had just been sitting in front of him, lips awaiting his touch, or so he had thought. Now, she seemed to be a completely different person, fierce and fiery beneath his gaze.
āDracoā¦ I really canāt do this,ā Hermione began regretfully. āYouāre a good person, but I really donāt think this is going to work out. Iām so sorry, Draco.ā
The realization and fact of what was going on hit Draco like a huge bullet, his heart dropping immediately and his mind drowning in despair. No, no, no, no, this couldnāt be happening! What had he done to earn this? He had been careful and slow. Was he too slow!? What ha-
āThis isnāt your fault,ā Hermione assured him, reading his mind. āIt just doesnāt feel right to me. Do you understand?ā
āY-yes,ā Draco choked out quietly, stuttering in his confusion. āI understand.ā
Hermione nodded. āI wish you well. Goodbye.ā
And with that she walked out, gently closing the door behind her. Leaving him with his head down, wallowing in his misery, feeling as if he had failed. Drowning in his fears, mistakes, and insecurities.
***
The next day, Draco was walking down the hall on his way to potions class and he saw Harry, Hermione, and Ron standing with the rest of the Gryffindors, waiting for the class to start. The ease she talked to them with made him feel a deep pang of jealousy and longing. She had never talked to him like that.
Professor Snape opened the door to the dungeon and all of the students filed into the classroom, sat down, and awaited instructions. Today, Draco found a table with just Pansy and slumped onto a chair.
āWhere the fuck were you yesterday?ā she asked, setting her bag down on the empty seat next to her. āCrabbe and Goyle are in the hospital wing, they fell down a whole entire flight of stairs. I donāt really understand how thatās possible though,ā Pansy said, noticing that he had looked around.
She smirked and had a slight air of triumph. Draco wondered if she had pushed them so that she could sit with him alone. He didnāt understand how she could be so obsessed with him when Hermione Granger had turned him down twice. When he couldnāt even gain the love of a mudblood.
Shit. āI was busy doing some studying in the libraryā¦ forā¦ uhā¦ an extra credit essay for Snape! And it took quite a long time, I couldnāt figure out a specific thing about... unicorn blood.ā He pieced together. He couldnāt tell her about what happened with Hermione, she would humiliate him for loving a muggle-born.
āOh, well, you couldāve told me. I wouldāve gladly helped you with your essay, you know,ā Pansy said with a sly smile.
Draco began to feel uncomfortable and there was an awkward silence.
āIām so sorry, I just didnāt think of it at the time. Next time something like that comes up Iāll let you know, okay?ā He brought his hand up to his neck and rubbed it.
Pansy simply nodded, a little disappointed. He felt like he was failing everyone in that sense. How could he satisfy the love Pansy had for him and his own need for love from a person he could never quite capture at the same time?
At the end of the class, Draco quickly made his way to the door and hurried down the hall and up to the Great Hall to eat lunch. The entrance was filled with people and Draco let out a small groan when he realized that he had come at the worst time.
As he finally made his way to the Slytherin table he noticed Potter stare at him with a mix of hatred, confusion, and pity and Draco knew that Hermione had told him about what had happened.
He chose to sit at the far end of the table, away from his friends, and waited. When the food appeared he ate only a few things and no dessert at all. He noticed that some of the other Slytherins were looking at him and whispering to each other. Draco sighed. They were talking about him, of course.
When he got up with everyone else to leave and go to their next classes, he heard snippets of conversations including his name.
āLook! Itās him, Draco Malfoy. What a fuck up. Did you hear that heās failing all of his classes?ā
ā--and that heās starving himself! Do you know why?ā
āHa! He got turned down by a muggle-born! Yaā know, the nerd?ā
His cheeks glowed red as he ran, not to his next class, but to his Slytherin dorm room. He felt like he was going to cry and soon enough, his vision was getting blurry.
He threw open the door and dragged himself over to his bed where he collapsed onto the soft sheets. There he let all of his tears out until he was done and simply lying face down on his covers, barely able to breathe through the thick fabric.
The thoughts racing through his head were tangled in each other as he tried to make sense of his feelings and compose himself. Soon enough, he knew what he must do and it made his heart go wild. He had been expecting this for a while and he finally had the courage to do it.
Draco got up and robotically walked himself over to his trunk. There, he tied almost all of his clothing into one long rope and stood at the wall, waiting. He got out his wand, and under his breath, mumbled a simple spell. When he looked up, he noticed a hook protruding from the wall a foot above him. It was next to his bed so that if he got on it he would be able to touch it with the top of his head. The perfect height.
Without thinking, Draco worked the rope of clothing and created a noose that looked like it would fit perfectly. He did this by hand. He adjusted this on the hook and made sure it was very tight and would not give way. After that, Draco got up on the bed, positioned himself, and put it on while simultaneously tightening it.
***
The thorny roses stood on that bedside table, never wilting or dying, never needing to have their water changed. The thing is, they had never been magically altered in any way and were practically perfect. The pure crimson red of their beautiful petals. The neatly sculpted thorns, sharp as a needle. The long and delicate, but strong stems, as healthy as they had been exactly a year ago. Nobody touched them or bothered them in any way because they were a monument. Some people said if you get that bed, you would end up dying that year, some said it was good luck.
Many people mourned this tragic death, but none as much as Hermione Granger.
