Hate You, Hate Me

-Chapter 8-

I hate you, Hermione.

I found myself staying up to extreme hours in the following weeks. Keeping an eye on Granger was hard work. There was no telling when she would break down. One minute she would be raising her hand in Potions, perfect as usual. The next minute she would be slumped against Potter's shoulder in the Potions Storage Room.

The teachers pitied her, I suppose. Even Snape would excuse her whenever she needed a good cry. Strange, I know. Sympathy is rare from the Potions Master. This emphasizes my point even more. Everyone was worried.

I suppose Potter had noticed her suicidal behavior as well. He watched her closely, looking as I must look during those long November nights. I figured Potter had warned the teachers, at least some of them, to watch out for Granger. I had told Snape myself, earning a baffled look from his cold eyes. It was worth it, though. Anything was worth it.

Things, therefore, fell into an uncomfortable pattern. A pattern that no one dared to break, not even I. My nights were spent sprawled in front of Granger's door. I heard her stifle cries against her pillow, the gentle scratching of her quill against parchment, nothing more. Nothing to worry about... I did anyway.

I hate how the last time you tried to kill yourself I kissed you.

But one night... things were different. I had passed out from pure exhaustion so, at first, I was certain I was dreaming. My eyes opened to an odd light coming from the space beneath the door. It was teal-coloured. I had no recollection of any spells that emitted this kind of light, and I was well oriented with the Dark Arts.

I spent not a second more pondering. I grabbed the doorknob only to pull my hand back, sharply. I felt as though I had stuck my hand in the fireplace. Even after removing it from the wretched object, it continued to burn.

"Hermione," I cried out.

She gave a shriek from behind the door, and I ignored my pain, grasping the doorknob again. This time the pain was just too much. I collapsed to the ground, feeling tears escaping my eyes. I started to hyperventilate as my consciousness began to slip from my reach.

The door flew open, but I saw nothing through the light. As my eyes adjusted, I could just barely make out Hermione's form floating in the air. Spinning around her were symbols that I didn't understand.

"Help me."

Her whispered words didn't register with my closing mind...

"Draco..."

Hermione's hand cupped my chin and brought my face towards hers. She was glowing with the teal light and smiling.

"I just wanted you to know that I- I..."

I was dying. I was dying, and Hermione was going to proclaim her love for me. I waited for the lovely words with a heavy heart.

But what I heard next was gibberish. It didn't even sound like a woman speaking, let alone my dear Hermione. I had never heard such a language before. I shrunk away from her, terrified at the voice.

"Don't go..."

I reached out to her, but the eerie voice returned and I pulled my hand away, quickly. I didn't understand, but suddenly I didn't feel like dying. I broke free of my vision to see only Hermione's closed door.

"My fault," she wailed from inside. "It was my fault!"

I ignored the dreams from before and ripped the door open. Hermione was in the window screaming.

"PLEASE! Please come back!"

Her voice was hoarse, and it broke my heart to hear it. I ran to her and pulled her into my arms, scared that she would gladly jump to her death. She wept in my arms as though I was a close friend, or maybe...

When she pulled away, her eyes were bloodshot and her face was pallid. Maybe I was crazy, but I still thought she was beautiful. Our eyes kept us locked in a world unknown to all others. I don't know how it happened, but I kissed her. My mind wasn't working properly, that's all. I was so tired, and I was willing to do anything to stop her from--

Oh, Hell... I love her.

The kiss was awkward, but that's what made it so beautiful. We had no idea of what was going on. We were scared and lonely. Looking upon us, I'm sure it showed. My heart pounded and all I wanted to do was pulled her into me. I wanted to protect her from anything that would do her harm. Potter, my father, Voldemort... anything, anyone. I suppose I forgot to include myself.

I hate how you slapped me and said I was trying to take advantage of you.

The kiss didn't last forever. Hermione eventually pulled away, gasping for breath. Anger glowed in her eyes. I was reminded of the day she told me those three horrid words and prepared myself for the worst. She had no hesitation in slapping me across the face.

"What... What's wrong?" I snapped.

I thought I was doing a very good job at taking things slowly. Usually, I'd already be half undressed at this point. Why the Hell was she angry?

"You're trying to take advantage of me!"

I- I wasn't. How could she say that? I loved her! I adored her with every fiber of my being and was actually willing to admit it, and she dares to say I'm trying to take advantage of her?

"I am not!" I screamed. "What gave you that idea?"

Hermione didn't reply, but she didn't need to. Her life was in shambles. Her best friend had been killed-- by my father no less. Voldemort was stronger than ever. She was constantly in tears.

I hate how you were probably right.

"Just get out!" She screamed, her voice choked with tears. "Now!"

"I won't leave you alone." I said, forcefully. "I won't let you jump out that window."

Hermione looked at me, baffled.

"I- I wasn't jumping out the window. I was just--" She stopped. "Wait, you didn't... You didn't see, did you?"

"See what?"

But then I remembered the teal light and the odd symbols. Had it really happened?

"That light! What was it?" I asked.

Hermione ran to her dresser and pulled out a jar filled with glowing teal stones.

"I got them after I found out I was Water," she said, quickly. "They are supposed to comfort your magical soul."

I picked one up and felt the sensation of walking on a quiet beach. It was nice for a minute, but my soul soon rejected it. The stone iced over and crumbled to bits. We watched the bits fall in silence.

"Don't stay by my door anymore."

I listened to her. I knew about the stones. I knew they would aid her. But I couldn't help feeling something was wrong about that night. Something that, in my weak and tired state, I was missing.

I didn't stay by her door anymore. I conjured a floating bed and slept outside her window.