The Lioness of Gryffindor

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Hermione opened the door more, letting Ginny in.

“Ginny, what’s wrong?” She started. “You didn’t seem upset earlier.”

“It’s Harry, Herm. I like him a lot, maybe even love him. But he has turned into a jerk since he killed Voldemort.”

Hermione didn’t look surprised at all. But what did surprise her was just as she went to hug Ginny, the young girls eyes widened in shock. She whipped around to see what was wrong.

There stood Draco with a scowl on his face looking a lot like when she had left him. There were the marks on his wrists where the scarf she had tied him with had dug into his flesh, the burns red and angry on his chest, and a rather livid hickey on his neck.

“Ginny, I think you need to leave,” Hermione said softly. She wasn’t even sure she had been heard. She turned to stare into the eyes of the youngest Weasley.

Ginny had her fists on her hips in the way that only a Weasley could make look threatening.

“Draco Malfoy! Where is your decency?” Ginny asked shocked. His eyes gowning large when he noticed that Hermione was not alone. “Do you always walk around in the nude? And where is your whore, is she hiding up there?”

Ginny took a breath to start again, but was interrupted by Hermione.

“I did that to him,” She said just as softly as her last words.

“WHAT?” Ginny screamed like she had not heard a thing. The small red head stepped forward and grabbed Hermione’s shoulders. “What did you say?”

Hermione looked to the ground at her feet.

“I said, that I did that to him. You are looking at his whore.” She felt even dirtier when she called herself that.

Ginny shook her.

“Hermione, are you a bloody idiot? That’s Malfoy.”

Draco was standing there, looking like he was under an Immobulus spell, up until Ginny started to shake her. He was then down to her side in a flash. Draco grabbed Ginny’s arms and twisted them off Hermione.

“Back off, Malfoy,” Ginny hissed.

“Draco, please stop,” screeched Hermione at the same time.

They were not sure who he listened to but he let go and stormed back to his bedroom. A string of curses about Gryffindors trailed after him.

Ginny seemed to calm down a lot in the space between having been manhandled and her next breath.

“Ginny, please don’t tell anybody,” Hermione pleaded.

“Hermione, how did this happen?”

“He was attacked by Harry, and I brought him back here. And things just got out of hand.” Hermione sighed. It wasn’t that simple but she just couldn’t explain it. How could she explain how she had just needed to hold him and hurt him at the same time? How could she explain, how she had felt when she could smell him? She knew that she had never felt like that for anybody.

She realized that that was enough explanation for Ginny.

“Hermione, you are going to need to talk to him.” The young girl’s words were just plain truth and wisdom. “If you need me there to straighten him out, just let me know.”

Hermione shook her head. She had gone pale at the thought of talking to him about what she had done. She was also scared of what Ginny might do. And could she really talk about what happened with someone else there?

And soft ‘thank you’ was all she could squeak out before she led Ginny to the door.

Hermione closed the door behind her, before Ginny could say anything else.

She leaned against the back of it and slid down. Her head dropped onto her knees when she was finally sitting on the floor. A few tears slipped from her eyes.

From the other room, Draco had listened to the whole conversation. And now all that he heard were sobs, when he re-entered the common room, he saw Hermione sitting by the door crying.

His first impulse was to go over and comfort her. But why should he do that? He was a Malfoy after all. And she had been the one who had done it to him.

He decided that he had had enough and went to take a shower.

She raised her head and watched him leave her there. He really was a heartless son of a bitch.

She heard the shower start and made a mad dash for the kitchen sink. She turned on the cold water and waited.

A scream of pure agony and anger erupted from the bathroom. A smile curled her lips.

She could hear him trying to turn off the scalding water. When she finally thought he had suffered enough, she turned the cold water off. Then she calmly walked back into the common room and sat down.

He burst into the room, wearing a towel this time, and looking very much like a lobster. Anger flared in his eyes.

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