(no subject)
Author: Irisri
Title: An Observation
Rating: G
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Prompt: Prompt "Dead", for DHR100, Obseervation prompt given at serpents_den, and the prompt "Comfort" for lions_serpents
Prompts complete: DHR - 20/100, Lions - 4/50
Words: 564
Disclaimer: My initals aren't JKR. In fact... they're GAMK. How gross sounding...
It was merely an observation.
That's all it was. But when he'd said that she'd thrown herself into her work even more than often once she'd died, he'd watched her eyes turn defeated, her face had fallen.
He didn't say he was sorry for making that observation, because he wasn't. Sometimes he wondered if she had a shrine in her chambers of him, and if she prayed to him every night before slipping out of her robes and falling to sleep.
He'd never been in her quarters, of course, as they were enemies.
He watched as she hurriedly piled books until they reached her chin, and carried them over to her desk. She opened each one, flipped through it, looking for any ink marks that would have complicated a reader's reading.
Her face looked hollow, dead. Her face had been that way for six days, five nights.
He knew because he'd caught her sneaking off into the kitchen, watched her grab an ice cream bucket and conjure a spoon before digging in. He didn't know how long she'd stayed there, because he'd left the kitchens after he'd catch her.
"Granger."
She looked up, startled. "Yes?" she asked hollowly.
He sighed. He took a deep breath before saying, "You can't bring him back."
She closed her eyes, and he saw her hand, the one holding the card stamper, trembling. "I know that."
"It's been two years, Granger."
"I know."
"Are you ever going to let him go?"
"You didn't know him," she hissed. "And you can really talk. Perkinsen died and ever since you've not even smirked."
Though her words were meant to sting, to poison, they lacked the venom that was needed to create the hurt. He crossed his arms. "But are you dead, Granger?"
She hesitated for a moment. "Yes," she finally whispered. "Now, please, leave me alone."
He leaned in, not giving up. "Don't you want to be alive?'
She shook her head, looking down at the book that was lying on her desk.
He sat back again. "Why?"
He watched her swallow and play with the worn leather cover of the book. "It doesn't feel right," she said softly.
"You feel like you're betraying him."
She nodded once.
He sighed and stood up.
(Hermione's POV}
She looked up to see he was gone. But then she felt cold, slender fingers wrap themselves around her upper arms, and pulling her chair back away from the desk, then pushing her out of her seat.
She was surprised when she felt those same cold fingers let go of her, only to turn her around.
The next thing she knew, she was being embraced.
Why is he doing this? She wondered dully. We hate each other.
But she fell into his comforting touch, wrapping her own arms around his neck, and burying her face into his chest.
And then she did the thing she'd not done for ten years. Cry.
(Draco's POV)
He felt her body shaking from the sobs that were muffled because her face was buried into his chest.
Why he was offering such a comforting touch to this girl, this girl he'd sworn to hate, torture, then kill, he'd no idea.
But as he hugged her closer and squeezed his eyes shut, he felt consumed by warmth.
Just for a little while, he thought. Then, he'd go back to being her enemy.
Title: An Observation
Rating: G
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Prompt: Prompt "Dead", for DHR100, Obseervation prompt given at serpents_den, and the prompt "Comfort" for lions_serpents
Prompts complete: DHR - 20/100, Lions - 4/50
Words: 564
Disclaimer: My initals aren't JKR. In fact... they're GAMK. How gross sounding...
It was merely an observation.
That's all it was. But when he'd said that she'd thrown herself into her work even more than often once she'd died, he'd watched her eyes turn defeated, her face had fallen.
He didn't say he was sorry for making that observation, because he wasn't. Sometimes he wondered if she had a shrine in her chambers of him, and if she prayed to him every night before slipping out of her robes and falling to sleep.
He'd never been in her quarters, of course, as they were enemies.
He watched as she hurriedly piled books until they reached her chin, and carried them over to her desk. She opened each one, flipped through it, looking for any ink marks that would have complicated a reader's reading.
Her face looked hollow, dead. Her face had been that way for six days, five nights.
He knew because he'd caught her sneaking off into the kitchen, watched her grab an ice cream bucket and conjure a spoon before digging in. He didn't know how long she'd stayed there, because he'd left the kitchens after he'd catch her.
"Granger."
She looked up, startled. "Yes?" she asked hollowly.
He sighed. He took a deep breath before saying, "You can't bring him back."
She closed her eyes, and he saw her hand, the one holding the card stamper, trembling. "I know that."
"It's been two years, Granger."
"I know."
"Are you ever going to let him go?"
"You didn't know him," she hissed. "And you can really talk. Perkinsen died and ever since you've not even smirked."
Though her words were meant to sting, to poison, they lacked the venom that was needed to create the hurt. He crossed his arms. "But are you dead, Granger?"
She hesitated for a moment. "Yes," she finally whispered. "Now, please, leave me alone."
He leaned in, not giving up. "Don't you want to be alive?'
She shook her head, looking down at the book that was lying on her desk.
He sat back again. "Why?"
He watched her swallow and play with the worn leather cover of the book. "It doesn't feel right," she said softly.
"You feel like you're betraying him."
She nodded once.
He sighed and stood up.
(Hermione's POV}
She looked up to see he was gone. But then she felt cold, slender fingers wrap themselves around her upper arms, and pulling her chair back away from the desk, then pushing her out of her seat.
She was surprised when she felt those same cold fingers let go of her, only to turn her around.
The next thing she knew, she was being embraced.
Why is he doing this? She wondered dully. We hate each other.
But she fell into his comforting touch, wrapping her own arms around his neck, and burying her face into his chest.
And then she did the thing she'd not done for ten years. Cry.
(Draco's POV)
He felt her body shaking from the sobs that were muffled because her face was buried into his chest.
Why he was offering such a comforting touch to this girl, this girl he'd sworn to hate, torture, then kill, he'd no idea.
But as he hugged her closer and squeezed his eyes shut, he felt consumed by warmth.
Just for a little while, he thought. Then, he'd go back to being her enemy.