Loss of Control

Chapter Five

Luckily for Hermione, she only had to put up with Madame Pomfrey's incessant tutting tendencies for the rest of the day. Late that evening she was finally released from the Hospital Wing and made her way up to the Gryffindor Tower - alone.

She couldn't help but think how typical it was that Ron and Harry didn't have the decency to come down and walk with her back up. She had been attacked by some wild animal - or at least that was what they thought. But apparently this was no great matter to the pair. They probably had better things to do; maybe they were meeting girls at the Astronomy Tower.

Nope. She climbed into the Common Room from the portrait hole to find them lounging in front of the fire playing Wizard's chess. Hermione's hands balled into fists when she saw this. 'Did they even notice that I was gone?' she wondered.

She was still standing on the edge of the room, debating whether or not to go see her friends, or to just retreat up to her room. Hermione was staring absentmindedly at the two of them, when Harry looked up and noticed her.

"Hermione!" he called, his face lighting up. "Pomfrey let you out!"

Ron looked up at her then too, his own lopsided smile appearing. She couldn't help but smile back at them. It was infectious; she wanted to be mad at them - she wanted to so badly - but it just wasn't possible. Hermione made her way over towards them, grinning widely even though when she thought about it - she wasn't all that happy. She couldn't help but pretend to be cheerful. When had she perfected this charade?

She plopped herself down on the carpet beside them. As the boys went back to their game, the three exchanged small talk. Harry and Ron asked how she was feeling, what Malfoy had said to her earlier, and if she had seen him since. Soon enough however, they sunk back into silence; the boys completely immersed in their game again.

Hermione sighed quietly to herself as she looked on at the game. Watching the two of them could no longer hold her attention as it once did. She muttered something under her breath about going up to bed, but as usual neither responded and she slipped away unnoticed.

The dorm was unchanged. It felt like an eternity since she had last been there. She felt so different, yet everything else had remained the same. It was as if the world had stopped moving and she was the only thing changing. Lavender's things were still strewn about the room, but the broken shards of glass that she had caused had been cleaned up. And there it was, sitting upon her night table mocking her. That little piece of metal that had been her release, but also the source of so many problems already. She looked at it longingly, her forearm almost throbbing in desire. She didn't know what was happening to her.

She picked up the blade and twirled it around in her fingers. Taking a deep breath she prepared herself for the blessed release. Suddenly a vision of golden hair swam into view. She gasped and dropped the object, it clanging dully on the stone floor. She hastily stooped down to pick it up, before shoving it carelessly in the drawer of her night table.

'It turns out Little-Miss-Perfect isn't so perfect after all.' She had to prove Malfoy wrong. These marks were nothing. They meant nothing to her and she didn't need them. She could stop whenever she wanted to. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he got to her. Hermione didn't want him to be able to see that she wasn't as in control as she convinced people she was.

Slipping out of her school clothes and into her night gown, she climbed into bed and pulled the hangings around. Hermione tried to will herself to fall asleep. Squeezing her eyes shut she tried not to focus on the object that she knew was sitting in the drawer just to the right of her. She gripped the sheets in tight fists to stop from reaching over and picking it up. Slowly her grip loosened as she drifted into a restless sleep.

***

She could feel his eyes on her as she ate her breakfast. Pale and withdrawn, Hermione had dark circle's under her eyes. The sleep she had gotten the previous night had done her no good. It occupied her thoughts, he occupied her thoughts. And now she couldn't be rid of his presence, he wouldn't let her.

Hermione refused to look up from her bowl of porridge. It was extremely difficult to ignore him, but she couldn't let Malfoy win. She would prove him wrong. She was in control. Hermione was going insane, trying not to glance up at him. 'What harm would one look do? It isn't as if I'm obsessed with him, am I not allowed to scan the Great Hall while I eat my meals?' she thought.

With resolve, she looked across the hall to where he sat. She was shocked to see he wasn't glaring incessantly at her; she swore she could feel his gaze. He was acting as if she wasn't even there. 'I'm getting paranoid,' Hermione told herself as she reached to pour herself another cup of coffee, 'he's making you paranoid.'

She still hadn't tore her eyes away from him, but he didn't seem to be affected by her gaze. Malfoy was busy eating his kippers and seemed to be oblivious to everything else that was going on in the Hall. Then she saw Zabini lean over across Pansy Parkinson, who was sitting between the two male Slytherins, and whisper in Malfoy's ear. Hermione's brow furrowed as Draco began to smirk at whatever Zabini was saying. Then she gasped, as Zabini moved away and Malfoy immediately looked across the Hall and right into her eyes.

Mortified, Hermione blushed but couldn't look away from him. She didn't know why, but it wasn't possible. Then she felt a wetness on her lap, followed by a sharp scalding sensation. Shocked, she looked down and saw the coffee overflowing from her mug and spilling out across the table. Several Gryffindors jumped as the hot fluid burned them, cascading onto several laps. Annoyed at her behaviour, Hermione pulled out her wand and with a quick muttered 'Scorgify' the table was clean again. She braved a quick glance towards Malfoy and saw him enveloped in his meal again. Either he hadn't noticed her little mishap, or else he was ignoring it for the time. But she knew that this wouldn't be the last time he would get to her.

***

Apparently Malfoy wasn't the only one out to make her life miserable; Snape was as well. During their usual Monday morning Double Potions with the Slytherins, the Potions Master decided that it would be enlightening to pair up students of different Houses. Hermione would have assumed, that with him favouring his House, that he would spare them the torture of being pair up with Gryffindors. But it seemed that the Gyffindors' anger at the pairing more than made up for this. Hermione had also assumed, that if he was going for maximum impact, he would have paired up Malfoy and Harry, but instead she found herself next to the blonde boy.

And so, that was where she was now, sitting at one of the lab tables with the 'Prince' of Slytherin, trying desperately to focus on the potion they were making instead of the hand inching up her thigh, or the insults being whispered in her ear.

"Mudblood," he muttered, moving his palm higher underneath her skirt. "Vile piece of filth." It was still moving higher. "Nasty loose tramp." His fingers were brushing the cotton of her white knickers.

She felt so powerless. It didn't matter how many times she pushed his hand away, glared at him, or snapped at him to stop it. Malfoy wouldn't leave her alone. He knew she would never say anything to make a scene, she would never admit that she couldn't protect herself from him, even when they were in a crowded classroom. But she couldn't deny how her body reacted to his touch, how every insult her muttered was making her clenched with desire. Why was her body working against her? Why would she get turned on from rude remarks?

She gulped, and tried to bat his hand away again. "Stop it, Malfoy," she hissed under her breath.

"Do you really want me to stop, Granger?" he sneered back.

"Yes," she whispered fervently. "I know you are just trying to provoke me and it won't work. Stop it before someone catches you," Hermione begged.

"The prospect of being caught just makes it that much more appealing, Mudblood, and you know it too," he retorted.

Hermione jumped as he ran a finger across her knicker-clad opening. She grabbed his forearm and gripped tightly, digging in her fingernails. She felt his flesh break beneath his fingers and saw him wince as he yanked his arm from her grasp.

The bell rang then and Hermione began to quickly gather up her things, eager to get away from the room. As she went to walk away, she turned to see Malfoy inspecting his cuts closely. As she turned and began to exit the room, she heard him speak.

"You'll be sorry, Granger."

Clenching her fists tightly in the fabric of her robes, she whirled around to face him in the now empty classroom.

"What are you going to do, Malfoy?" she demanded. "You caught me while I was vulnerable once, and believe me when I say it will not happen again. You can't hurt me."

He threw his head back and began to laugh in sadistic pleasure. "I know you better than you'd like to admit it, Granger," he said smirking and walking towards her. "You're always vulnerable, you just have a good way of hiding it."

She eyed him warily as he continued to advance on her. "That's bullocks, Malfoy, and you know it," she said, her voice a bit higher than she would have liked.

"No, Hermione," he drawled, delighting in making her flinch at her own name. Even her first name sounded like an insult when coming out of his mouth. "You are just a petty little girl who is trying to act like she isn't. You just put on an act of being the toughest witch at Hogwarts, but underneath it all, you are scared at how powerless you really are. You're terrified, Granger, but you are just trying to deny it."

Hermione's eyes widened at his words. "You don't know anything about me," she hissed at him. "Don't pretend to understand me." With that she turned on her heel and fled from the room. As she ran through the dungeon corridors, the echoing of his laughter reverberated off the walls and followed her through the castle. Even after she reach the silence of her room, the sound still rang in her ears, taunting her.