Affliction
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
11,190
Reviews:
44
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
11,190
Reviews:
44
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The end of love
A/N: This story is being betaread by NelStar7! She has graciously accepted the challenge of sorting through my grammatical errors so that you (the readers and hopefully reviewers) can enjoy a smooth reader-friendly story! So thanks go to NelStar7! Sooooo because of this I will be sporadically updating the old chapters with the new and improved beta’d version!BUT for all of the new readers please enjoy the story and don’t forget to review! Reviews equal fuel, so the more reviews the faster I update!
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Affliction
Chapter One: The end of love
-------------------------------------------------------
The end of love, the start of pain
The blood from my heart that now aches, stains
With the thought of your image, the thought of you care
Devoted to another, whilst my spirit is bare
Where am I to go, where is my hope now
Am I no longer important like our dedicated vows
You promised to always be there, and love me no matter what
But it seems you’ve moved on, loved another and forgot
The breakdown of our relationship, the break of my poor heart
You punctured it with your cruel ways; you stabbed it with a dart
You took away my faith, my dreams, I now have nothing left
My happiness has disappeared; a brutal act of theft
You promised to always be there, but now it all depends
On if you’ve found another love and when my heartache ends
-Lucy Arnold
She felt like someone kicked the air out of her, the pain felt so intense within the core of her being. She couldn’t breathe because it was too painful to move. Even the natural act of filling her lungs with air felt like it would be too much pressure on her chest, her heart was racing fast, and she could even feel the adrenaline slowly rushing through her veins, very much like a deadly poison. It was around then she started to need air because she was still holding her breath, but she couldn’t breathe, her body wouldn’t let her.
For some reason her body was embracing the pain and letting it take over itself; like a sick twisted veil slowly falling. Her eyes started to burn with tears but none would fall, not one. Her body was saying you feel this, you feel it? Then her body gave in and finally let her breathe, but the pain felt so bad that she almost wished she had suffocated, the air was appallingly cold, it froze the tunnel that led to her lungs and filling them with an air so cold, it felt like they were on fire. Then her tears started to freely fall and it all went downhill from there…
Maybe she was overacting, but it didn’t matter, no, it didn’t matter right now, because all that mattered right now, at this moment, was the letter still clutched in her hand, the same hand where a modest diamond ring and wedding band sat; mocking her and the life she had lived since putting them on. The letter that destroyed her world and caused her emotions to tumble down uncontrollably around her; it was a letter to Ron from Lavender.
Apparently no one really knows him like she does, no one understands him like her. She wants to be with him, she wants to take it to the next level. Hermione tensed up and poured out the rest of the letters in the box. She knew she shouldn’t read them, knowing they would only cause her more pain than she was already in (not that she imagined it was possible), but she had to know. She needed to know what was going on between that bitch and Ron; she didn’t care if it was going to instigate more pain, because all of a sudden that pain became a new drug to her.
All those years she loved him, the kind of love that she had once lost herself in had cracked and demolished, and this new feeling, this agony was slowly sucking her in, this new feeling wanted to torture her, and yet right now this was the only feeling that was welcome to her.
She looked at the next letter; this letter came with a picture of the bitch in a tasteless red and black lingerie set.
That broke the bridge; tears began to fall more feverishly, as she dropped the box full of letters on the floor and fell to her knees. Trying to fight back tears, she sat on the floor and opened up the envelope to see what else was in there. She needed to know more and the contents within did not disappoint.
The next picture was of the whore sitting on his lap, obviously at some party, he had his arms around her and she was nuzzling his neck. She turned the picture over and saw the date; it was last Valentine’s Day, she gave a watery sob.
She remembered that day very well; that was the day she made a candlelight dinner for him, she sat at the table waiting for him to come home from work, around ten o’clock she gave up and decided to give him a call, what she got was a “sorry Mione, coach called a last minute practice, and I have to be here, I might get to start Friday, but listen I’ll make it up to you when I get home, I promise,” he said.
She believed him, she fucking believed him, team practice my arse. She was mad at him for lying and cheating, she was mad at the slut for taking him away, but above all she was mad at herself, for not being the kind of girl he could stay faithful to.
She heard a noise by her bedroom doorway, and looked up, it was him, it was Ron. She looked into his big blue confused eyes and felt hopeless, tears started to steadily stream down her cheeks. He looked so caring, like he really wanted to know what was wrong with her, so she showed him. She lifted up the picture of him and his whore cuddling on Valentine’s Day, and she watched as different emotions came to play across his face. First confusion, then concern, then shock, and finally anger.
“What the fuck were you doing going through my stuff?!” He yelled.
Hermione caught off guard jumped to her feet and backed away, her heart started to break all over again, he hadn’t even said sorry, just accused the worst of her. She was at a loss for words.
“Answer me damn it!” He yelled.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, still trembling, tears still falling, “I wasn’t going through your things,” she stammered.
“Liar, you’re such a fucking liar, you nosy bitch,” he stormed over to her grabbed her arm and twisted it, so that she was pressed up against wall.
She choked back another sob, “I’m not,” she said softly, her anger slowly building; he had some nerve acting like this, like she shouldn't know he was cheating on her, “I’m not a bitch, you arse hole!” She said with more force as she snatched her arm away from him and pushed him, “Why did you have to do it, what did I ever do to you to deserve this?! I loved you! I was there for you through everything… EVERYHTING!” she screamed.
She began to hit him over and over, trying to inflict at least some of the pain he caused her, back to him.
He grabbed her wrist to try and steady her, and that’s when she saw it, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in that red-head of his… reflected in those blue eyes she had once loved so much was an insurmountable amount of remorse.
“I don’t know why I did it, oh god’s Mione, I’m so sorry, I’m so very sorry,” a couple of tears slid down his cheek. She stiffened as he put his arms around her in an embrace, and she took comfort in it, he began to slowly slide down the wall with her, so that when he reached the floor, she was sitting in his lap. He cradled her, and rocked her back and forth, trying to soothe her, and it worked, until she remembered the picture.
She was sitting in the same lap, the same position, as that bitch.
She started to push away from him, but he wouldn’t let her go, she clawed at the carpet trying to get away, but he grabbed her by her waist and tried to rock her gently again. “No,” she screamed, “Let me go you jerk, I hate you,” she cried.
He still wouldn’t disengage, so she hit him, and it felt good, she hit him again, she stood up with him still latched on to her hips. She closed her hands into a fist and hit him again in his face.
He looked up and she saw tears streaming down his face. She couldn’t take it any longer, she started to release all her pent up anger, on him. Blow for blow, hits, and scratches, she cried and punched, sobbed and scratched. He held onto her hips, face buried in her stomach, he didn’t fight back, didn’t even try to stop her.
She became despondent and dropped to her knees in front of him, still crying, still sobbing. He put his arms around her, she laid her head on his shoulder, he slowly laid them on the ground, him holding her and brushing her hair back gently, she began to fall asleep, listening to his whispers of apologies, none of his words able to calm the torrent of emotions and pain of betrayal she felt.
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XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXYours truly, AimeeBass
------------------------------------------------------
Affliction
Chapter One: The end of love
-------------------------------------------------------
The end of love, the start of pain
The blood from my heart that now aches, stains
With the thought of your image, the thought of you care
Devoted to another, whilst my spirit is bare
Where am I to go, where is my hope now
Am I no longer important like our dedicated vows
You promised to always be there, and love me no matter what
But it seems you’ve moved on, loved another and forgot
The breakdown of our relationship, the break of my poor heart
You punctured it with your cruel ways; you stabbed it with a dart
You took away my faith, my dreams, I now have nothing left
My happiness has disappeared; a brutal act of theft
You promised to always be there, but now it all depends
On if you’ve found another love and when my heartache ends
-Lucy Arnold
She felt like someone kicked the air out of her, the pain felt so intense within the core of her being. She couldn’t breathe because it was too painful to move. Even the natural act of filling her lungs with air felt like it would be too much pressure on her chest, her heart was racing fast, and she could even feel the adrenaline slowly rushing through her veins, very much like a deadly poison. It was around then she started to need air because she was still holding her breath, but she couldn’t breathe, her body wouldn’t let her.
For some reason her body was embracing the pain and letting it take over itself; like a sick twisted veil slowly falling. Her eyes started to burn with tears but none would fall, not one. Her body was saying you feel this, you feel it? Then her body gave in and finally let her breathe, but the pain felt so bad that she almost wished she had suffocated, the air was appallingly cold, it froze the tunnel that led to her lungs and filling them with an air so cold, it felt like they were on fire. Then her tears started to freely fall and it all went downhill from there…
Maybe she was overacting, but it didn’t matter, no, it didn’t matter right now, because all that mattered right now, at this moment, was the letter still clutched in her hand, the same hand where a modest diamond ring and wedding band sat; mocking her and the life she had lived since putting them on. The letter that destroyed her world and caused her emotions to tumble down uncontrollably around her; it was a letter to Ron from Lavender.
Apparently no one really knows him like she does, no one understands him like her. She wants to be with him, she wants to take it to the next level. Hermione tensed up and poured out the rest of the letters in the box. She knew she shouldn’t read them, knowing they would only cause her more pain than she was already in (not that she imagined it was possible), but she had to know. She needed to know what was going on between that bitch and Ron; she didn’t care if it was going to instigate more pain, because all of a sudden that pain became a new drug to her.
All those years she loved him, the kind of love that she had once lost herself in had cracked and demolished, and this new feeling, this agony was slowly sucking her in, this new feeling wanted to torture her, and yet right now this was the only feeling that was welcome to her.
She looked at the next letter; this letter came with a picture of the bitch in a tasteless red and black lingerie set.
That broke the bridge; tears began to fall more feverishly, as she dropped the box full of letters on the floor and fell to her knees. Trying to fight back tears, she sat on the floor and opened up the envelope to see what else was in there. She needed to know more and the contents within did not disappoint.
The next picture was of the whore sitting on his lap, obviously at some party, he had his arms around her and she was nuzzling his neck. She turned the picture over and saw the date; it was last Valentine’s Day, she gave a watery sob.
She remembered that day very well; that was the day she made a candlelight dinner for him, she sat at the table waiting for him to come home from work, around ten o’clock she gave up and decided to give him a call, what she got was a “sorry Mione, coach called a last minute practice, and I have to be here, I might get to start Friday, but listen I’ll make it up to you when I get home, I promise,” he said.
She believed him, she fucking believed him, team practice my arse. She was mad at him for lying and cheating, she was mad at the slut for taking him away, but above all she was mad at herself, for not being the kind of girl he could stay faithful to.
She heard a noise by her bedroom doorway, and looked up, it was him, it was Ron. She looked into his big blue confused eyes and felt hopeless, tears started to steadily stream down her cheeks. He looked so caring, like he really wanted to know what was wrong with her, so she showed him. She lifted up the picture of him and his whore cuddling on Valentine’s Day, and she watched as different emotions came to play across his face. First confusion, then concern, then shock, and finally anger.
“What the fuck were you doing going through my stuff?!” He yelled.
Hermione caught off guard jumped to her feet and backed away, her heart started to break all over again, he hadn’t even said sorry, just accused the worst of her. She was at a loss for words.
“Answer me damn it!” He yelled.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, still trembling, tears still falling, “I wasn’t going through your things,” she stammered.
“Liar, you’re such a fucking liar, you nosy bitch,” he stormed over to her grabbed her arm and twisted it, so that she was pressed up against wall.
She choked back another sob, “I’m not,” she said softly, her anger slowly building; he had some nerve acting like this, like she shouldn't know he was cheating on her, “I’m not a bitch, you arse hole!” She said with more force as she snatched her arm away from him and pushed him, “Why did you have to do it, what did I ever do to you to deserve this?! I loved you! I was there for you through everything… EVERYHTING!” she screamed.
She began to hit him over and over, trying to inflict at least some of the pain he caused her, back to him.
He grabbed her wrist to try and steady her, and that’s when she saw it, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in that red-head of his… reflected in those blue eyes she had once loved so much was an insurmountable amount of remorse.
“I don’t know why I did it, oh god’s Mione, I’m so sorry, I’m so very sorry,” a couple of tears slid down his cheek. She stiffened as he put his arms around her in an embrace, and she took comfort in it, he began to slowly slide down the wall with her, so that when he reached the floor, she was sitting in his lap. He cradled her, and rocked her back and forth, trying to soothe her, and it worked, until she remembered the picture.
She was sitting in the same lap, the same position, as that bitch.
She started to push away from him, but he wouldn’t let her go, she clawed at the carpet trying to get away, but he grabbed her by her waist and tried to rock her gently again. “No,” she screamed, “Let me go you jerk, I hate you,” she cried.
He still wouldn’t disengage, so she hit him, and it felt good, she hit him again, she stood up with him still latched on to her hips. She closed her hands into a fist and hit him again in his face.
He looked up and she saw tears streaming down his face. She couldn’t take it any longer, she started to release all her pent up anger, on him. Blow for blow, hits, and scratches, she cried and punched, sobbed and scratched. He held onto her hips, face buried in her stomach, he didn’t fight back, didn’t even try to stop her.
She became despondent and dropped to her knees in front of him, still crying, still sobbing. He put his arms around her, she laid her head on his shoulder, he slowly laid them on the ground, him holding her and brushing her hair back gently, she began to fall asleep, listening to his whispers of apologies, none of his words able to calm the torrent of emotions and pain of betrayal she felt.
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XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXYours truly, AimeeBass