Unravel

It was about the middle of October during their seventh year when he noticed that she was being noticed. Why was she being noticed? Maybe she had turned into a first class whore and guys were noticing her for her abilities. In all honesty, that was Pansy's claim to fame, best head in the school. Draco smiled, remembering how just that morning Pansy had proven to him how talented she really was. No. Not Granger though. With her two bodyguards constantly in tow there was no way a bloke could get close enough. Or maybe they were the ones...he always thought that stupid fucking trio was too close to be normal, well of course they're not normal, they're golden. No, not that either. Granger was definitely a prude. It oozed from her dull hair down to her dull mary janes. She was disgusting.


As he stared and scrutinized her, he realized that every other guy in the damn room was doing the same. All eyes were glued on her as she walked to her seat next to Saint fucking Potter. How? Draco Malfoy could not get his mind to wrap around the fact that these idiots were staring at her because they thought she was beautiful. No. He would not stand for that. She was a parasite. A disgusting waste of wizarding life. A fucking mudblood.


Draco choked on his toast as he visibly saw Crabbe drool into his porage. It was only when Crabbe yelped out loud from Draco's aggressive persuasion to stop fucking looking that the other males at his table went back to eating. It was ridiculous, madness. He couldn't stand the sight of it all. The putrid stench. Draco stood and left the Great Hall as quick as his toned seeker legs would carry him.


He was too far gone before he realized that he would be twenty minutes early if he showed up for Potions now. So, like any normal hormone driven seventeen year old boy, Draco stopped off at the loo to let out some of his frustration.


He chose the farthest stall back, he didn't need interruptions. He took his time unzipping his trousers. It would give him time to think about who he could elaborate about in this fantasy.


Last nights conquest seemed quite appropriate. A fifth year Ravenclaw, Nina...something or rather. Their names were never really important anyways. She was an exotic beauty with dark caramel skin and large emerald eyes with lashes for years. Besides her luscious lips being extremely useful, her other major asset was her melon sized tits. He took his rock hard cock into his hands and began slow and gentle stroking. He pictured them bouncing uncontrollably as he drove into her with no mercy. He left out the part about how she shrieked in the most annoying way he had ever heard. He focused on each pert nipple, hard and yearning for his tongue to lash at them. He stroked faster over the velvety flesh ignoring the voice in the back of his head that protested to his low groans. It was too late for a silencing charm. The dark dusk nipples tasted amazing grazing his tongue and escaping through his teeth. He smiled at the remembrance of his little game he played. Seeing how long he could keep it in his mouth before it popped out due to his vigilant ramming. One free hand slowly crept down to squeeze his balls as his hips involuntarily bucked up...so close...one last thrust to see them almost knock her in the chin...one last feathery light touch over the head. He had to gasp for breath to keep in his groans and grip the side of the stall to keep from falling over as his long thick stings of cum shot out to cover the seat in front of him and half of his hand.


The long sigh of relief that usually came after this sort of act never left his lips. He should feel better, like a new man. Like one usually felt after a hair cut. There should be satisfaction, except Draco Malfoy was horrified. Never once had he had such a violent orgasm from his own touch and all because of the last image that snuck into his thoughts as he teetered on his orgasmic edge.


***


She hated Potions this year. It was first thing in the morning with the slimy Gryffindor-hating teacher with the goal of reducing Gryffindor house points to negative one million. Well at least she had a good partner. No she didn't have that either.


There he was sneering at her as soon as she took her seat. He looked extra peeved today. In fact his appearance was actually quite unnerving. His hair was mussed only slightly, but his normally snow white skin was flushed from his brow to his cheeks to his neck down to...what was she doing? Wondering if Malfoy blushed in other places rather than his face! Bad Hermione. Yuck Hermione.


"Why are you still living?" his voice drawled as if she was his greatest annoyance.


She only bit her lip. She had come up with a new method for this year, or lack there of; ignore the bastard. It seemed simple enough in her mind. Nothing is ever really simple though. It was wearing away at her brutally trying to keep this little promise to herself. How could she ignore someone that was always there? In her living quarters, in her classes, during rounds. The task was virtually impossible. But isn't overcoming the impossible what she was best at?


Not alone she guessed.


Her eyes drifted closed as she tried to think of anything in the world other than being in a dungeon with the evil prince beside her.


"What is wrong with your face?"


Maybe in Italy in the back of a gondola.


"Some god father...I thought they were suppose to help you not torture you," Malfoy was grumbling beside her. "Partnering me with the likes of you..."


It was fading. Her tiny fantasy was failing her today and he was getting to her. Malfoy watched as her anger began to boil under her skin. She tried; she tried so hard to control it.


"...he knows that I don't like mud, never did..."


That was it! Hermione stood and turned to him mouth open ready to tongue lash his fucked up brains out of his fucked up head. He stared at her bemused, like anything that she ever had to say to him could ever make a difference in anything, ever.


"Turn to page 317," bellowed a voice from behind her. Never has she been thankful to hear that voice. It actually just saved her. She let out a huff of breath then took her seat once again.


Draco was actually disappointed. He wasn't Head Boy for nothing; he knew that she had made a plan to ignore him this year. Once he knew that, he made his own plan...destroy her plan. He had almost made her lose control. Her method of dealing was almost annoying until he realized the challenge that it placed before him. It wasn't enough that she was fucking perfect, well from an outsiders view. She had perfect grades, prefect friends and a perfect little muggle family. On top of that load of shit she was noble, but there’s more. Now she was considered to be attractive. Was he the last sane man in Hogwarts? When he thought Hermione Granger, he thought dirt. Not like earth, like the soil outside. He thought of the annoying kind. Like the shit that gets under perfect manicured nails by accident. The unwelcome kind that is found in places it doesn't belong. She was vile and so dirt dirty. He wanted to wash his hands just thinking about it.


After an annoying, and redundant speech on how not to use love potions, Snape made his way around the room to check on their progression. After screaming at Harry for cutting up his beetles wrong Hermione looked down to check and make sure she was doing everything correctly, which she was. She was always doing it the right way.


Snape stopped in front of the head students and scrutinized her first. Of course it was her first. His face seemed to contort when he noticed that she was performing perfection. Hermione continued her work with almost a smile until that voice, that damn slimy snake voice spoke.


"Mr. Malfoy?"


"Yes sir?" Draco asked nonchalantly. Only he had the air about him to speak so normally to someone so despicable.


"Why are you stirring the wrong way?" And it was a question. An actual question that one would ask to any normal person. His words did not drip with menacing evil and irritation like they would if he were speaking to anyone other than a Slytherin.


Hermione stopped wide-eyed. She didn't know what to fear more, the wrath of Snape (on her only of course), or a grade lower than perfect. Malfoy was fucking up her potion.


"Um..." Draco was unsure how to respond. His little response had no fear mixed in with it at all. For a second Hermione thought he would burst at Malfoy, but no. No he turned to Hermione.


"Granger! Is your book open to the right page?" Snape barked.


"Yessir!" She squeaked.


"Then why, Miss Granger, did you not read the directions to Mr. Malfoy correctly!" Hermione tried to respond with something, but he wasn't done, "Because if you had he would not be stirring in the wrong direction!"


"But sir-"


"It is in plain sight right in front of your eyes!"


"But my job was-"


"Ten points from Gryffindor!"


Tampering with her grades was something she did not take lightly. She was not her ever-tempered self anymore; she was speaking with out thinking first. "That damn prat is the one-"


"Twenty more for talking back! Scourgify!" Snape turned on his heel. "You are dismissed!"


She stood dumbfounded. Malfoy was already walking out the door. The tears began to threaten to spill over and she decided it best to leave before the water works began and she embarrassed herself even more. She didn't even have the courage to glance at Harry or Ron, let alone anyone in the entire room as she rushed out. At that moment the last thing she wanted was sympathetic looks and more wicked grins.


How was this her fault? He was supposed to have his book open too! He should have read it for himself, but the age old saying was so true to Hermione. If you want something done right you have to do it yourself, or else a Slytherin prat will fuck it all up for you. She felt so helpless in that class. The halls were quiet, hauntingly so, leaving her with her thoughts. At first he was just a small thorn in her side, a minor discomfort in her perfect life. Now he was a full on pain in the neck, causing her grief and despair every time she turned her head. There was no escaping him, he was everywhere.


She didn't know for how long she had wandered with a clouded mind around the stranded halls of Hogwarts. It was only when a rush of first years almost plowed her over did she realize she was on the complete other side of the castle. This made her even angrier. When was the last time she was so consumed in her misery she failed to notice she was six floors and about three hidden passage ways from her own head girl room. Never. Ever. And that had a perfectly good explanation behind it also. She had never failed in a class room. Her academic record was so spotless it seemed to glow.


"Not anymore," Hermione glowered. Her record was now splotched. The most near and dear thing she had ever accomplished, tarnished with no chance in all Hades to ever return back to its blindingly white self. What if this ruins her chances of perusing a decent career after graduation? What if she can't get into the fields of her most desired choices? What if she's forced to sell third rate cauldrons on the streets to get a bite to eat?


And then logical Hermione knocked nice and hard on the inside of her exploding cranium. She was over reacting beyond reason. She was the head girl; one small failing grade in one class on one assignment was not going to ruin her future.


But what if it does?


No. Completely irrational and not to mention, incredibly stupid. Hermione sped to get back to her common room. She had to clear her mind completely if she wanted to focus on the rest of her day. N.E.W.T.S. were not going to pass themselves.


***


The Head's common room was one of the most magnificent rooms Hermione had ever had the honor to grace her eyes upon. That was until she realized that along with the many small encrusted lions that were scattered around the room there was also an equal amount of small encrusted serpents. The flaw was Draco Malfoy. His presence was disgustingly littered all through the room. Then there was the actual him, lying lazily on the main sofa located directly in front of the calming flames. He had to of heard her come in, but he didn't move, he just let the small smile of gratification play across his face.


At this point her face was streamed with blackness and she was huffing. At the sight of him she felt cold as ice and on the verge of vomiting all over him. He was the fucking reason she felt as if she was unraveling and the universe was caving in on her. He was the one that was making her act so uncharacteristically. It was all his fault and she wasn't going to hold back the racking emotion that was beginning to boil in the middle of her chest, not like she could, she never felt so out of control.


He turned his head in the direction of the dismal girl, his trademark smirk in it’s natural home.


"Please forgive me for my mistake earlier," He said almost laughing. And that was the only thing he said before he turned his head back to the fire.


How could anyone in their right mind think that thing standing in front of the portrait opening was attractive? When Draco looked at her she looked more disgusting than he had ever noticed her to be. Her frizz ball hair was sticking out in odd angles more than it usually did and half of it was plastered to her sopping cheeks, which were frighteningly blackish and grayish of sorts. She hunched over in the most Quasimodo way due to her traveling library. He almost scolded himself for not commenting on her hideous appearance.


He felt a sharp jab to the back of his head as Hermione shoved her wand quickly at it. "Get up Malfoy," her voice dangerously seethed.
She was teetering on the edge of insanity and Draco could visibly see it. He slowly rose up to face her more head on. He was not stupid. He knew that she was Head Girl for all the right reasons. She was incredible at great magic. He scoffed without realizing it. How did something so despicable penetrate the walls of the great wizarding world and then actually become good at being one? He almost felt a twinge of fear. Almost.


"So this is it Granger? The moment you break, the moment you realize you can't go in this world anymore?"


Never once did his annoying smirk falter. Even here in a life threatening confrontation (would she actually kill him?), he was still badgering her. Still! His wand was carelessly thrown on the end table in plain view to where they could both see it. He couldn't grab it if he wanted to. She would have him hexed through the grate before he even had the chance.They both knew it.


"You have been doing this to me on purpose! You have been trying to make me go crazy and break! You find sick pleasure in tampering with my mind!" His too obvious eye roll confirmed 'well duh'.


But she couldn't do it. What kind of person would that make her? Killing someone, well the thought of killing someone. No better than a Death-Eater. Besides she couldn't risk her position, her reputation. She couldn't do it. She could not, with all her intelligent witch self, find the curse that should rightly so be escaping her lips. So instead of a body-bind torturing jinx or curse, she collapsed in a pathetic heap on the rug. Stained sobs quivered through her as she let it all go. The sheer frustration of it all. Not passing a grade, Malfoy invading her life, uncharacteristic wandering, Malfoy's fucking presence, the thought of a less than perfect career, Malfoy's god damn smirk, and most of all not being able to hex him into oblivion when it was the only thing in the world she wanted to do. Why?


This was all his fault! She should be so enraged with him that thinking all this out shouldn't even be happening. Except it was happening.


Pathetic. Hermione Mudblood Granger looked so pathetic hunched on the ground whaling her lungs out through her dirty plump lips. Draco shook his head violently as if to shake that last thought out completely. Why was he staring at her lips wide open and crying?


"Granger get off the fucking floor you're making me sick!" She didn't move, or even look up. She was consumed in her own miserable world. Draco tried again, louder. "You fucking Mudblood get off the damn ground!" Nothing.


Why was he screaming so strained like at her as if he was the depleted one? He had victory. Nothing was comprehending itself inside her head. The lights were dimming and the lines were blurring. This was a place she has never been before and it wasn't right. Everything was wrong. Everything was black.


And why was he yelling at the cowering mass to resume normal standing posture? Well...well...Draco wasn't sure. It was just seeing her there like that so un-Hermione Granger like. It was a bit scary. Which he couldn't understand either. Then like a bludger to the head it hit him. This is it. This is victory. He has won and he has finally broken her. The flourishing smile never really got to grow to its fullest because before it could something else, something else that was the opposite of happy, invaded his pleasant thoughts. What was he going to do with all the spare time he would have now. He spent every extra second devising ways to crawl into her knotted mind and rip it into tiny shredded pieces. In fact he even did it when it wasn't spare time, like during classes while she sat there, smiling surrounded by admiring faces. Or in the great hall when all eyes were on her beautiful face. It couldn't be over now could it? Draco was frowning very deeply and looking at her there, lying on the ground still.


Lying there! She had fell over and passed out. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was uneven and hoarse. That ball of panic that Draco hadn't realized had formed in his stomach was now growing at an alarming rate. Thoughts of what to do in his spare time went right out the window and were replaced with thoughts of how the fuck does he revive the Head Girl. He let that growling voice in the back of his head that was insulting him for even being concerned with her well being stay right there at the back of his mind.


His screaming wasn't doing a damn thing, she was completely incapacitated.


"Fuck!"


Walk away Draco. This is not you're problem.


Rational Draco was fighting irrational Draco and in the end he wasn’t sure who had won. All he knew was that his arms were suddenly around the stupid girl carrying her across the room. He pushed everything out of his head at that moment and just reacted. On his way he looked down at her. She seemed peaceful. Lighting struck him hard making him realize his pure skin was wrapped around complete filth...but she didn't feel like filth. Stupid boy what did he expects? Ooze to squirt from her and taint him forever. She felt like any other girl, maybe even warmer...softer.


Now he really was disgusted with himself. And even after that fact he found himself caring if he set her into the tub gently enough.


"Bloody hell, get a fucking grip, " he scolded himself. He turned the faucet up to full blast and ice cold. That should be enough. Staring at her in the tub as it slowly filled let him reassure himself that the bitch was still ugly and disgusting. Her hair was hideous, her robes might as well have been fit for Millicent Bulstode and her face...


He didn't dare finish that thought, instead he turned around and spat on the floor. He suddenly got a disgusting taste in the back of his throat.


Draco fled the room quickly and made his way back into the common room. At first he thought maybe he should have a lie down. Give him some time to think about anything other than Mudblood know-it-all upstairs in an icy tub. It didn't work though because his mind drifted into dangerous and very un-wanted thoughts of what Hermione Granger looked liked soaking wet. So he sat upright and grabbed a book. Nearly a minute passed before he realized it was an issue of the Quibbler. It flew through the air and landed with a whooshing thud on the floor. His mind just would not stop racing. What if the Head Girl was permanently damaged? What if she never came to again and it was all his fault?


Wait a fucking second Draco thought angrily. Who gives a shit? This is exactly what he has been wanting for seven years now.


What if the Head Girl was drowning!


He was there in the prestige bathroom in a heart beat looking down at her. She was floating silently right below the surface of the water. She looked as if she was sleeping. Peacefulness draped her appearance. She seemed...angelic...almost beautiful.


The porcelain sink looked awfully amazing right then. The perfect place to bash his skull into a bloody mess. How dare he think thoughts like that.


He shifted back to the Head girl and realized she had been under water for and few minutes and that she looked too peaceful. His whole body became soaked in icy water as he pulled her limp form from the tub. His panic lump was practically exploding in his chest. He lay there for a few numb minutes wondering how he could have avoided being underneath a very soaked and very wide-eyed mudblood.


Oh goody, perfect time to open your eyes and come back to Earth.


"Why are you...?" Hermione's voice was quite small sounding in the tremendous bathroom, and very confused.


It didn't last long though because all there was next was a blood-curdling scream. She was screaming and he was screaming and then she got hurtled form his lap on to the hard marble floor. The thud echoed as the two people stared at each other with an immense boiling mixture of emotions, none of them able to escape. Draco sat panting and clutching his chest where he thought his beating heart just might push through.


"You're alive." He whispered to himself in an astonished tone.


She didn't care what he had to say though because everything was coming back to her and her rage was beginning to blind her again. When she spoke next the insistent pain could not be hidden through her racking sobs. "You ruined my potion! You didn't care!" Insanity looked like it had begun to creep in on her and her miserable sentences became smooched ramblings. "You don't care you've never cared. Oooh...not like you ever would! I hate you Draco Malfoy! If I could, if I were capable, I would kill you! I want you to hurt, I want you to feel how you make me feel! I want...I want...", but there was no more. Her head fell in defeat for the second time.
Her spirit was broken, and Draco feared that it might really be beyond all repair at this point.


He wha...? He feared? That sink was looking like a marvelous place to crush his skull again. He tried to think of something to retort. Something mean and heart-breaking. The only problem was that his horrid reaction to having the slightest bit of feelings for the creature in front of him was still lingering across his face.


She spoke again, and it sounded more like Granger than it did the minute before, a small relief for Draco until her poisoned words wrapped him up.


"I just don't understand how you don't have any human feelings. At first I wanted to get to know you. Of course that was for only like a day...it was just...the way you were raised in the magical world, and your background, your beliefs. I wanted to see what was buried in Draco Malfoy, but I soon found out that that was worthless, you're just a wanker. I'm not trying to make up excuses for you anymore. You really are a hopeless excuse for a wizard." She started to stand up and move towards her bedroom door, not looking in his direction once.


Draco wasn't exactly sure, for he had never heard it before, but it sounded like she was pitying him. Now fury had transferred to his face and he began to huff with rage. "Now wait one damn second Granger! How dare you think you can speak of me that way, calling me worthless and hopeless! I am a Mal-"


"Oh drop it Malfoy!" She had turned on him quicker than he had realized and stared back into his stony eyes determined. "Oh you are so fucking awesome Malfoy! All one hundred and forty-eight pounds of your pure-blooded Slytherin royalness! All flaunting about with your expensive furs and shiny buckles, holding your nose so high in the air people can see up into your rotting, mind controlled brain! Oh come on! Like everyone can't see how completely miserable and dead you are on the inside. All you are is just some little death-eater puppet- have you ever even made a decision on your own? You are so utterly pathetic, a stinking filthy pile of smoldering patheticness! And frankly I can't stand the stench of you anymore!"


Words couldn't even form in his throat. He had never hated anyone more in his life at that moment. Potter seemed like a breath of fresh air compared to her pungent tone she was forcing down his lungs. He wanted to scream who do you think you are? But he knew the answer all too well. Nothing would come out.


Hermione wasn't backing down from him anymore. She wanted to finally, finally, drill into his head and make him know what he was really worth. Maybe that fascination she once had with him secretly had worn away, but the sheer determination to make him understand what he emitted off didn't. She would not let tears of frustration fall down her face in front of him while he was staring at her like that.


Staring, like he was stunned?


Draco Malfoy was pissed! Pissed that she saw right through him! Pissed that she was exactly right! Again! The battle taking place through out his brain was alarming. How can a disgusting muggle fuck make him rethink his entire life. The sounds leaving his throat came out low and unsteady, almost a growl, "You filthy fucking mudblood."


A bursting eruption of laughter filled up the room and thundered off the walls. He was appalled, and something he thought incredibly impossible a second ago, more furious than he was before. She only laughed harder with maniacal quivering laced through it.
"Mudblood! You're still on that are you? Malfoy I'm better than you in every...possible...way," and her radiating confidence confirmed that she actually believed that. "I can see the jealousy ooze from you're perfectly moisturized pours, and what's that?" she still laughed on, "am I right again?"


Right about what this time he thought as he bore into her soul through empty dead slits. She only read his mind.


"Right about you being worthless and hopeless!"


Even after the door had slammed Draco still stood there. He couldn't move a muscle, it was like he had been stupifyed.


For a very long time Draco stayed in the same spot in the bathroom. His head was a clouded mass of confusion and he just didn't seem to know where to start. All her words still flew about him like knives, cutting his skin until he was forced to sit down. He felt as if he was suffocating and it was all her fault that his oxygen supply felt so scarce.


The sun was low in the sky when his mind let him think freely upon the fact that Granger's chest looked very well formed suctioned to her skin tightly.


***


The nerve, the sheer fucking audacity of Draco Malfoy. Hermione actually laughed out loud as she screamed,"Who does he think he is!" She couldn't stop pacing around the room replaying the events that just took place. On one hand she was bursting with happiness that she got out everything she has been dying to say for years. The look of horror on his face as she belted out her turmoil with him was absolutely gratifying, but somehow he wasn't erased from her system. He was reduced to a small itch, but Hermione feared if she didn't keep her head on track he would come back as horrible as a full body rash. He was stunned, yes, but he would not let her verbal banter go on with out any rebuttal.


The rest of the day seemed to be a loss cause, Hermione knew there was no way she would be able to concentrate on her studies now. Hours passed as she sat in her room sometimes sleeping, always thinking and occasionally trying to finish an assignment. It wasn't until the sun began to set that she heard the first sounds coming from the bathroom. She hadn't noticed that since she left the room earlier there hadn't been one sound. What had he been doing?


She was staring at the door for awhile before she had registered the fact that it had flew open and Draco stood there very dishelved and brooding.


"Get out." Hermione stated simply. There was no movement though.


She looked closer at him, looked into his eyes. It was very apparent that something was raging behind those gray orbs and it was so natural for curiosity to perk up inside her. Neither of them had spoken. Not even a word was uttered when he advanced on her.


He was beautiful. He had aristocratic features that even Greek Gods would be jealous of. He was flawless. Hermione blinked rapidly trying to push those thoughts away and focus more on why he was within inches of her. He looked down and took one racking breath, he was preparing himself to say something. It was rather unnatural for him to look this human. She didn't dare speak, in fear that she would ruin her chance to witness him speak his mind from somewhere that was purely him.


He looked up again, into her soul, "I hate you Granger."


That was it? That was it, but it didn't sound like he hated her. If the phrase he just said would have been I love you it would have sounded just as natural. It was fused with passion. She was speechless for one moment. Then the second moment came and she still hadn't said a word. All she accomplished was opening and closing her mouth a few times. Why had it taken so much for him to say that? She already knew that anyways. So she was left in a state of complete confusion.