Bleed

sometimes your heart is in your throat,

when I am speaking my mind,

I am still not over you,

Oh, I am still not over you,

if only she knew

    - Michelle Branch

        'If only she knew'

*

"Let him go," Draco ordered, his hand still clutching her arm. She struggled, trying to get free of his death grip that he had on her.

"Are you crazy? Get off, Malfoy!" Hermione screamed, and broke free. Without so much as a second glance at the silver haired rival, she ran out onto the hall, looking both ways of the halls. Taking a chance, she ran to the right, and swung her head, trying to look for any sight of Harry. Then, she caught her breath as she saw a glimpse of raven hair in near the suit of armor near a deserted classroom.

Gaining her strength, she walked slowly and knocked on the door softly.

"Go away," a voice demanded.

"Harry, let's talk about this!" Hermione protested, the lump in her throat rising.

"Please leave me alone, Hermione," the voice ordered, emotionless.

"No!" Hermione cried, and turned the knob and swung the door open. Harry's back was to her, he was sitting atop a desk, and he was facing the window, not turning around as she came in.

"Harry, I ...really don't know what to say," she finished lamely.

"Don't say anything, then," Harry replied coldly.

She walked reluctantly up to the desk and sat in front of him, her hands placed on his shoulders.

"I am really sorry you had to find out this way," she started to say.

"I don't give a damn how I found out, Mione. You sleeping with my enemy and getting pregnant is worse enough. Why didn't you tell me? I feel like a complete idiot," he said, his voice harsh.

"Oh God, Harry, I let him get to me, okay? I am a whore, and I don't deserve you, but the last thing I want is to break our friendship," she croaked, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Harry sighed, and hesitantly pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek softly.

"Don't cry, Mione," he said awkwardly, patting her hair.

"Oh God, I can't believe I got impregnated at such a young age! I am a mess, I really am!" Hermione said, sobbing.

"Oh, you stupid, foolish girl," Harry muttered, letting her cry on his neck.

"Tell me what to do," she whispered softly, sniffing.

"Don't worry, Herm, don't worry. We'll work through it," he merely said, rubbing her shoulders.

This child needs a father, Harry thought uneasily. Sighing deeply, he brushed his lips across Hermione's forehead, and she lifted up her head and brushed her lips against his, acidly kissing him.

"I don't love him, Harry. I love you," she pleaded.

"I know... shhh," Harry said, a faint smile quivering on his lips.

And there, the door lay ajar, Draco Malfoy stood, peeking at the sappy couple in disgust.

It won't be that easy, Potter.

*

And when there's you,

I feel whole,

and there's no better feeling in the world,

without you,

I am alone,

and I'd rather be in love

with you

I'd rather be in love with you...

I feel you holding me...

I know it's tough to be loved,

why are you afraid of love,

I know its tough,

but why are you afraid of love...

    -Michelle Branch

        "I'd Rather Be In Love"

*

Hermione Granger was trying to fit into her black, silk nightgown. She sighed in disbelief and anger, groaning in frustration. When she was sixteen, or not pregnant, she could have fit into it perfectly, and it used to fit her like second skin, clinging to her shoulders, hugging her curves lovingly, and it was a lovely shade of black. But now she was seventeen, and a pregnant teen. Things just weren't the same. Making a raw animal noise, she threw it across the room, her hands on her face.

How could pregnancy be so hard? Throwing up in the morning was hard enough, but she couldn't find much to eat, and when she wasn't hungry, she ended up eating dozens of cookies and that made her sick again. It was awful, and even though it would last only some more months, it was still hard. The days went by, and the only comfort Hermione had was Harry coming by her private Head Girl dormroom and paying her some late night visits. After Harry had told Dumbledore, he advised her that she should take her classes only twice a week, and go to the Hospital Wing at once if she felt anything wrong. They couldn't take any chances, he had told them. She would do her homework and other needed work in her dormroom, and graduate by the end of the year.

Of course, nearly half the school knew that Hermione Granger was pregnant. What they didn't know was that Draco was the father. Hermione and Harry, the perfect couple, were congratulated everyday by random students, and it made it even worse that she saw a few Gryffindors hinting about when the wedding would be. Her life was a mess, throwing up, eating, then throwing up again, and need she mention the fact that two good looking boys were fighting to be the baby's father?

As Hermione stood in her pink shorts and a heavy lavender t-shirt, she looked at the bundle of black silk on the floor. She gave up trying to make it fit, and was now running her hands through the scars on her stomach, the scars that she had made herself. Three, jagged, thin scars, running across her flesh. She gasped, thinking how she could have done this to herself. She seriously needed help. But it was only because she thought she could get away with the raping story. How much had she risked! For God's sakes, the baby could have been hurt. The scars still gleamed and pained her, but she ignored it, remembering how she had fainted after her session with Narcissa. It was awful and embarrassing, and she wished never to re-live that experience ever again.

She touched a tip of one of the smallest scars, encircling it's crude shape with her index finger. After she had finished, a sudden flash came through her mind. A sudden vision, a deja vu, she saw a couple kissing, naked, in a heated remix of passion. The girl was sighing, and she was running her lips through his chest, while his hands smoothed down her hair.

When Hermione had opened her eyes again, she examined her surroundings. The bundle of silk was lying next to her, and she was on the floor, crying. What was happening to her? Gaining all the strength she had left, she fell asleep on her bed, clutching her knees tightly to her chest.

*

"What's the password?" he demanded, pointing his wand infuriatingly to a small boy that looking terribly frightened.

"I- I don't know! Please! I really don't! I only have the common room password!"

"What is it?"

"Griffin."

Draco snorted in disgust. "Oh how original," he quaked mockingly. The little boy ran for his life, and Draco stood in front of the potrait of the Fat Lady, who was looking at him with narrowed eyes.

"Griffin," he repeated lazily. The potrait reluctantly let him in, still eyeing his green robes, and he stepped inside, frowning at the cozy common room. A large fireplace, with several red armchairs. Three young Gryffindor girls had taken notice of his coming, and stopped painting their nails and giggled, one blushing furiously.

Draco rolled his eyes, and waved hello politely. They giggled harder, hiding their faces.

"My God, stupid bitches," he muttered. However, they could be in some use.

"Hey, girls, I was just wondering, who's the head girl for Gryffindor?" he asked casually. They giggled, and one of them, a brunette with green eyes, answered him, "Hermione Granger of course. You know, one of the pregnant ones? Are you even in Gryffindor?"

"I am new. Just transferred," he replied.

"Nah, I think I've seen you before last year," said a blond one.

"Well that's probably someone else. Anyway, what's the password to her dorm?" Draco said impatiently.

"Why should we tell you?" asked the other one, which had brown curly hair.

"Just give me the Godamn password, woman!" he screamed, pointing his wand to the middle girl. The two remaining ones shrieked, and the middle girl stuttered, "I've seen her mutter some French or German thing. I don't know, okay!"

He nodded, but kept the wand pointed up.

"Do you have any idea what it is?"

"I have no idea, she changes her password every two weeks... I think it was 'cree men dur' or something!" she said, shrugging. He finally put the wand down, and walked away, up the stairs.

After several wrong turns, he found Hermione's dormroom, which consisted of a picture of a girl dressed in red, who had beautiful shining black hair and auburn eyes, and she was sitting on a chair, a wineglass in one hand.

"Hmm, Granger's got some taste, has she?" Draco murmured to himself.

"Password?" the girl said, smiling at him adoringly.

"Er- cree men dur?" he tried, trying to develop an accent.

"Yes, but you're not the brown haired boy with glasses," she observed. "Your not the father...how do I know I should let you in?"

"Because I gave the damn password. I am a friend of hers," he noted.

Reluctantly, she let him in and closed softly behind him. The room was a small, cozy place. It had a dressing drawer in the corner, large, with a almond shape huge mirror. Several chairs and books and muggle things were neatly stacked in corners of the room, and a soft, velvet covered bed lay in one corner, a sweet looking girl bundled up in blankets. He grinned, thinking how she looked so innocent, sleeping. But in bed, she was a real wildcat. He grinned wider. He still had the bite marks.

Moving slowly across the floor, he sat on the corner of her bed, watching her sleep. Her closed eyelids flickered every so often, but the soft peaceful breathing kept him watching her. He eyed her hair. It used to be so puffy, but as she had grown and had many haircuts and used many products, it had grown slim and shiny, up to her shoulders. He ran his hand through a peice of hair, and she flickered her eyes open, blinking.

He leaned down, his heavy breathing tinkiling her face.

"Hey, Mom," he whispered mockingly, patting her stomach gently.

She groaned, getting up. "Must you do that? I was sleeping and then you had to barge in here!"

"Well sorry if I am not allowed to see the mother of my child," said Draco innocently.

Hermione smacked him in the ribs. "You know perfectly well that's not why your here. Now, why are you here?"

He grinned at her boyishly, and looked at her up and down, eyeing her pink shorts in interest.

"Stop it Malfoy, I am not in the mood for your games," said Hermione, yawning tiredly.

"What games? My stars, I am just your fellow homosexual friend," he asked in mock outrage and shock. He looked so girly, that Hermione had to giggle.

He grinned at her again, his hand patting her bare thigh. She was laughing so hard that she hardly took any notice, her eyes in tears with mirth. He took his time to run a finger across her thigh and stomach and up to her chest. She stopped laughing, and she frowned at him, her eyes narrowing.

"What do you think your doing?" she asked, punching him on the shoulder playfully.

"I can't control myself," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Draco," she murmured protesting as he swarmed his other hand to her leg.

A tingling vibration went through her, and she reached up and took his hands away, clutching her fingers around his. He leaned forward, and so did she, their lips catching against each other. His lips were harsh, while hers fought to be gentle. He pushed her down on the bed, his hands squeezing both of her hips.

His lips let go of hers and licked the corners of the flesh of her neck, and she squirmed underneath him. He liked to see her squirm, under her, and he had all the control. His hand was now tugging up her t-shirt which was a shade of lavender, and threw it across the bed, his chest rubbing against the material of her bra. His tongue darted in and out, his hands now holding against her shoulders to protest her from any escape.

She was numb from disbelief and mere pleasure. She was licked from her neck, and now he was lowering down to her breasts. She groaned in frustration. It had been so long since she had felt his lips around the tips of her breasts again, and she was waiting impatiently for him to strip off the garment that covered them.

He only took off the strips, and placed his forehead in the middle of her cleavage, and she breathed deeply, waiting for him to continue.

"Please," Hermione muttered, her nails digging into the skin of his scalp. His hair was now teasing her fingertips, and she was losing control. In a few seconds, her shorts and underwear were only tugged down halfway, and he must have lost control too, because he went inside of her right then and there, and she shrieked, ending in a soft moan.

It was a strange sight. A silver haired boy, with his pants midway down, his shirt still on, except for a few buttons open, and a girl, who's shorts and underwear were down up to her knees, her bra hanging from her stomach.

A very strange sight indeed. The candlelight flickered through the midway open door, an intruder that was eyeing them in shock.