Gryphon's Wings and Crocodile Tears
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Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
21
Views:
23,831
Reviews:
55
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
21
Views:
23,831
Reviews:
55
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Encountering Foreign Emotions
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or places they belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling: It is her world I just play in it.
Chapter 12- Encountering Foreign Emotions
Hermione was benumbed by the news that Ashley dropped into her lap. Of course there was a part of her that had known the truth all along, but this part of her had judged the effects to be too damaging for Hermione to deal with so she pushed the awful truth down. No one wants to believe that their friends would treat them so badly. Her self-imposed ignorance was a defense mechanism that could not operate any longer once she’d been confronted with the truth.
She neither saw nor heard anything as she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room in a state of shock. If she’d been in any condition to take in her surroundings she’d have seen that Ron was following her in the hope that he might have a word with her when she reached the portrait hole. If she’d been feeling at all her self she’d have also noticed a tall figure that seemed determined not to immerge from the shadows stalking her as well.
Ron lost track of her when he tripped on a loose stone in the middle of the corridor in which he was walking. The bag he carried looked almost as if it had vomited, spewing the contents across the hall. Ink damaged his latest essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He grasped the sodden parchment and muttered a profanity so startling that it would have put a blush on the cheek of a sailor.
The figure in the shadows tried not to snigger, though it was difficult. He loved to see Ron Wesley in the midst of difficulties. Particularly the difficulties that he’d created for the other wizard. The shadowy form went to continue stalking his quarry, but he was momentarily delayed when his foot kicked something that had come from Ron’s bag when he’d taken his dramatic tumble only a few moments earlier. The figure pocketed it; if it belonged to Weasley then he’d keep it out of spite if nothing else.
The shadow caught up to Hermione while she was still some distance form the Gryffindor common room. He stepped from where he lurked with a charming smile dancing on his lips. Draco stepped directly into the path of the young witch, this way she had to acknowledge that he was there. Besides Draco was not the type who was at all accustomed to being ignored by women. He’d decided to give up on “Mandy the dyke,” as he thought of her so that he could focus on completing his collection of straight, or at least bi-sexual sixth-year girls.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss Granger.”
“Look Malfoy, I am not in the mood to be charitable to your foul behavior at this moment.” She drew her wand in her shaking hand and raised it level with his chest. “Why don’t you just say whatever sophomoric insult you are planning so that I can curse you and we can be on our way, huh?”
For one of the first times since he’d met her there was something that held his tongue a bare instant before he decided to take a distinctly more Malfoy approach to the situation. He pushed her wand down and stepped close to her. “I thought that someone should tell you about what your friends have been doing behind you back for some weeks now…”
“That’s funny,” Hermione said with a touch of manic laughter behind her words, “I haven’t got any friends, so you were obviously misinformed Malfoy.” Tears now threatened to spring from her eyes at any moment. Draco had to look away, as he was not someone who was at all familiar with emotion so openly displayed. This made him acutely uncomfortable.
She stepped around him and continued her walk back to the tower with her back stiff. She was upset that there was no way to hide her feelings from Malfoy, the last thing she needed would be to appear weak to that scum-bucket.
“Hermione.” The sincerity in his voice made her halt, a combination of shock and pride prevented her from turning to look at him. He’d never called her by her first name before. Had she turned she’d have seen that his next phrase caught his unawares and that his cheeks were flush with embarrassment from showing her even the smallest amount of concern. “I am sorry.”
She turned, deciding that this was a matter more important than her pride. The place were Draco had stood only a fraction of a second earlier was now empty and the corridor eerily quiet. She must have been hallucinating, there was no way that Draco could be moved by the plight of a ‘mudblood’. ‘Draco, I actually thought of him as “Draco”, not as “Malfoy”. I must be going crackers.’ She resumed her walk, now believing herself to be suffering from some sort of dementia.
Draco ran as fast as his feet could carry him. It was difficult to tell how if he’d managed his escape quickly, the blood rushed to his ears and obscured all sound. He hoped that on one had seen him running from Hermione. ‘No,’ he groaned internally, ‘not Hermione, the mudblood or maybe Granger. She isn’t a person and I can’t think of her as one.’ Draco slipped into an unused classroom to compose himself before making his way back to the Slytherin common room.
“What is wrong with me? I should have been happy to see her so upset, why did I want to comfort her? I must just be dedicated to getting her in bed. There can be no other explanation. It isn’t like I’m attracted to her.”
Draco felt content with this explanation, if he could convince himself that it was true then everyone else would believe it too. He knew that was the way of the world, particularly the way of high society-both Muggle and wizard (Though he knew little else of the former.).
Ron caught up with Hermione just as she approached the portrait hole that led to the common room. He was panting and he looked even more disheveled than usual. By the time he opened his mouth to speak to her she’d already stepped inside and the picture swung shut in his face with a soft thump. The Fat Lady was nowhere to be seen, Ron hated it when she left her post during the day. He cursed his luck again and sat down to wait for someone to open the picture from inside or for the return of the Fat Lady.
Once inside the common room Hermione’s shocked demeanor turned to an icy shell, she was for the first time seeing this horrible betrayal for herself. ‘Well, they can’t be trying too hard to hide it if they aren’t even facing the door. Honestly! They’ll pay one way or the other; I’ll make sure of that.’
The rest of Gryffindor House was evidently willing to let the two of them take the brunt of Hermione’s anger, as no one moved to intercept Her as she approached; nor did anyone move to warn Harry and Ginny as to the irrational creature that was coming their way. The reason for their unwillingness to help the pair was most likely due to the fear that Hermione would next turn on them. Anyone who had ever come to be on the receiving end of her wand would do anything not to find himself or herself in that position ever again. That kind of ability combined with anger would not result in anything good for the target of said anger.
Harry and Ginny sat intertwined in each other’s arms and chatting animatedly about nothing of great import. They were totally unaware of the storm that was about to break over their heads. Hermione raised her wand and smiled manically, everyone who beheld the look on her face scrambled for the staircase or some other hideaway taking the less observant with him or her.
Chapter 12- Encountering Foreign Emotions
Hermione was benumbed by the news that Ashley dropped into her lap. Of course there was a part of her that had known the truth all along, but this part of her had judged the effects to be too damaging for Hermione to deal with so she pushed the awful truth down. No one wants to believe that their friends would treat them so badly. Her self-imposed ignorance was a defense mechanism that could not operate any longer once she’d been confronted with the truth.
She neither saw nor heard anything as she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room in a state of shock. If she’d been in any condition to take in her surroundings she’d have seen that Ron was following her in the hope that he might have a word with her when she reached the portrait hole. If she’d been feeling at all her self she’d have also noticed a tall figure that seemed determined not to immerge from the shadows stalking her as well.
Ron lost track of her when he tripped on a loose stone in the middle of the corridor in which he was walking. The bag he carried looked almost as if it had vomited, spewing the contents across the hall. Ink damaged his latest essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He grasped the sodden parchment and muttered a profanity so startling that it would have put a blush on the cheek of a sailor.
The figure in the shadows tried not to snigger, though it was difficult. He loved to see Ron Wesley in the midst of difficulties. Particularly the difficulties that he’d created for the other wizard. The shadowy form went to continue stalking his quarry, but he was momentarily delayed when his foot kicked something that had come from Ron’s bag when he’d taken his dramatic tumble only a few moments earlier. The figure pocketed it; if it belonged to Weasley then he’d keep it out of spite if nothing else.
The shadow caught up to Hermione while she was still some distance form the Gryffindor common room. He stepped from where he lurked with a charming smile dancing on his lips. Draco stepped directly into the path of the young witch, this way she had to acknowledge that he was there. Besides Draco was not the type who was at all accustomed to being ignored by women. He’d decided to give up on “Mandy the dyke,” as he thought of her so that he could focus on completing his collection of straight, or at least bi-sexual sixth-year girls.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss Granger.”
“Look Malfoy, I am not in the mood to be charitable to your foul behavior at this moment.” She drew her wand in her shaking hand and raised it level with his chest. “Why don’t you just say whatever sophomoric insult you are planning so that I can curse you and we can be on our way, huh?”
For one of the first times since he’d met her there was something that held his tongue a bare instant before he decided to take a distinctly more Malfoy approach to the situation. He pushed her wand down and stepped close to her. “I thought that someone should tell you about what your friends have been doing behind you back for some weeks now…”
“That’s funny,” Hermione said with a touch of manic laughter behind her words, “I haven’t got any friends, so you were obviously misinformed Malfoy.” Tears now threatened to spring from her eyes at any moment. Draco had to look away, as he was not someone who was at all familiar with emotion so openly displayed. This made him acutely uncomfortable.
She stepped around him and continued her walk back to the tower with her back stiff. She was upset that there was no way to hide her feelings from Malfoy, the last thing she needed would be to appear weak to that scum-bucket.
“Hermione.” The sincerity in his voice made her halt, a combination of shock and pride prevented her from turning to look at him. He’d never called her by her first name before. Had she turned she’d have seen that his next phrase caught his unawares and that his cheeks were flush with embarrassment from showing her even the smallest amount of concern. “I am sorry.”
She turned, deciding that this was a matter more important than her pride. The place were Draco had stood only a fraction of a second earlier was now empty and the corridor eerily quiet. She must have been hallucinating, there was no way that Draco could be moved by the plight of a ‘mudblood’. ‘Draco, I actually thought of him as “Draco”, not as “Malfoy”. I must be going crackers.’ She resumed her walk, now believing herself to be suffering from some sort of dementia.
Draco ran as fast as his feet could carry him. It was difficult to tell how if he’d managed his escape quickly, the blood rushed to his ears and obscured all sound. He hoped that on one had seen him running from Hermione. ‘No,’ he groaned internally, ‘not Hermione, the mudblood or maybe Granger. She isn’t a person and I can’t think of her as one.’ Draco slipped into an unused classroom to compose himself before making his way back to the Slytherin common room.
“What is wrong with me? I should have been happy to see her so upset, why did I want to comfort her? I must just be dedicated to getting her in bed. There can be no other explanation. It isn’t like I’m attracted to her.”
Draco felt content with this explanation, if he could convince himself that it was true then everyone else would believe it too. He knew that was the way of the world, particularly the way of high society-both Muggle and wizard (Though he knew little else of the former.).
Ron caught up with Hermione just as she approached the portrait hole that led to the common room. He was panting and he looked even more disheveled than usual. By the time he opened his mouth to speak to her she’d already stepped inside and the picture swung shut in his face with a soft thump. The Fat Lady was nowhere to be seen, Ron hated it when she left her post during the day. He cursed his luck again and sat down to wait for someone to open the picture from inside or for the return of the Fat Lady.
Once inside the common room Hermione’s shocked demeanor turned to an icy shell, she was for the first time seeing this horrible betrayal for herself. ‘Well, they can’t be trying too hard to hide it if they aren’t even facing the door. Honestly! They’ll pay one way or the other; I’ll make sure of that.’
The rest of Gryffindor House was evidently willing to let the two of them take the brunt of Hermione’s anger, as no one moved to intercept Her as she approached; nor did anyone move to warn Harry and Ginny as to the irrational creature that was coming their way. The reason for their unwillingness to help the pair was most likely due to the fear that Hermione would next turn on them. Anyone who had ever come to be on the receiving end of her wand would do anything not to find himself or herself in that position ever again. That kind of ability combined with anger would not result in anything good for the target of said anger.
Harry and Ginny sat intertwined in each other’s arms and chatting animatedly about nothing of great import. They were totally unaware of the storm that was about to break over their heads. Hermione raised her wand and smiled manically, everyone who beheld the look on her face scrambled for the staircase or some other hideaway taking the less observant with him or her.