(A/N) Hello, my peeps! Here is yet another chapter of my sucky piece of trash that I like to call "writing." It's a shorter one, but there's lots of mixed POV in this chappie! I'm really sorry that I'm such a slow writer, I just can't grind out 2k in thirty minutes like some people! I mean, I can, but it'll be the type of absolute trash that it makes you want to claw out your eyes to stop reading the horror. I don't like doing that to my readers! And writer's block always sucks. So please be patient, bear with my weird updating schedules, and remember that you are loved. <3

Loves,
~Iresine

Draco

     "Oh my frick, why am I so fricking stupid! I don't know why the frick I chose to act like that, fricking Malfoy genes, but somehow I reminded her that I still owed her the frickin' book!" The said book was currently sitting under the mattress, buried between random junk that I stuffed there. I bit my lip so hard I could feel the oily, metallic taste of blood on my tongue. "Ugh! This is so fricking complicated! All because of some fricking dust! Frick, I'm saying frick a lot!"

     "Hey, Draco, are you done in there? I need to get some books. And why is it so quiet?" Theo's muffled voice came from the door. I sighed, undid the silencing charm with a wave of my wand, and opened the door. Theo rushed in, bagel in mouth, and dug through his bedside table until he found the books that he was looking for. "Aren't you coming to class?" Theo asked through his bagel while hurrying out the door.

     "No, I'm skipping today. Not feeling the best right now." I said, closing the door behind him and sighing. Well, that was the truth. I'm feeling so darn guilty. I wish I'd never, you know, her in the first place. Then this all would have never happened! But it's too late now, and I have to do something about it. But how do I fix this? How am I supposed to undo what I did? There might be a way. I sat on my bed, mind whirling. Well, I could pay Madam Pince not to buy any more books under this title, or any memory books at all, for a start. I'm sure I have the money. Then, if Hermione tried to buy some from the bookstore, I could buy those books and burn them or something. Yeah. Sounds like a plan. I should also try to get closer to her, to make up for the book and stuff. But that's next to impossible, with Potter and Weasel always hanging around her like moths to a lamp. The only way now is to get farther away from her. Insult her more, ignore her, be the definition of a brat. I couldn't swallow the lump in my throat. I was being forced to do the opposite of what I wanted to do. Maybe I'm not elaborating on it enough. Imagine taking your loved ones and being forced to dismember them limb by limb with only a pair of dull safety scissors as your weapon, all the while having to listen to their pleas and bloodcurdling screams. Yeah. It was kind of like that.

     Why did life have to be so hard?

Hermione

     That conversation has given me a lot to think about.

     No, really. I still need that book from Malfoy! My fears had subsided a bit over the summer, but now, they've resurfaced, and it's tearing me apart. He's right behind me in all classes, so I'm assuming he'll finish it soon. Hopefully. He might just keep it just to spite me. The stupid, disgusting, horrid piece of trash. I bit my lip, holding my textbook upright so Professor McGonagall wouldn't see me not paying attention. What if the person attacked me again? Erased something important? I wouldn't remember a thing. My friends and family, strangers. My information, useless. My life... nothing. Not even a name. I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that could help block out my fears, but in the darkness it was worse, so I opened them again and stared at the wood of my desk. Took shaky breaths. Tried to convince myself it would be okay. But it wouldn't be. Imagine, not remembering anything at all! How terrible that would be. More shaky breaths. It'll be okay. It'll be okay. 

      I hope.

     But it tore at me, eating me up from the inside. I had to do something. And quickly. I put down my book. My hand shot into the air like a bullet, so fast it caused a small whipping sound. Years of practice. Professor McGonagall turned around at the sound, her eyes focusing on me through her square spectacles.

     "Yes, Miss Granger?"

     I bit my lip and put on a pained expression. "I-I really need to use the lavatory." I said in my best it's-an-emergency voice, squirming a bit to add to the effect. Out of the corner of my eye, a few students inched farther away in their seats, as if I was about to explode any second. Thanks, guys. Professor McGonagall looked like she didn't quite believe me, but knew it was something urgent besides that, so she nodded. Besides, it was the last period, so it didn't really matter. I smiled at her gratefully, both genuinely and to add to the effect, and raced out of the room. I went to the direction of the girl's restroom, just for the effect, then looped around and went to the library, but going the long way to make sure McGonagall's class wasn't on my route. Finally, slightly out of breath, I was staring at the huge wooden doors of the library. I sighed. Made it. I pushed the doors open with both hands, using all my strength, (Hogwarts was notorious for its squeaky doors) and was surprised at how easily it swung open. I was also surprised when it went bump, "OW," and [INSERT SLIDING NOISE].

     "Oh my god I am so sorry I did not see you there oh my goodness I am so so sorry are you hurt are you okay?" I gasped at the heap on the floor. 

     Madam Pince's stare was like a laser beam, but this was a crisis! I bit my lip at all the poor, poor things that were laying on the ground. Their covers were definitely scratched, and their pages might have even been ripped! Awful! Terrible! A catastrophe! I dropped to my knees and started picking up the poor babies, smoothing out the creases in their pages and closing them with care. Luckily, they were mostly fine, and only one book, the poor little thing, had a small rip in one of its pages, but nothing else too serious. A disaster diverted!

     I stood up and arranged them into a neat stack in my arms, blowing on the cover of the top book. The dust tickled my nose, and I giggled. "Now you stay here, and don't go wandering off again, okay?" Now that my rescue mission was completed, it was time to do what I had come here for. I turned around.

     And saw a body laying on the ground.

     I was about to scream, but my throat had closed. Did... did I hit that guy with the door? I was wondering why a pile of books sounded so heavy. And the yelp probably wasn't coming from the books. I stared at the body, a pile of black robe fabric and sprawled limbs. Was it even breathing?

     When it stirred a bit, I sighed in relief. Thank Merlin! I could've been killed for murdering a person, or worse, expelled. I ran over. "A-are you okay?"

     The person didn't respond immediately. I waited. It was a good half-minute before they decided to answer, but it was just a pained grunt.

     I winced. That must've hurt. "Can you move?" I asked in a low voice.

     An arm lifted an inch above the floor, then fell down with a thud.

     "Oh, good, you're not paralyzed. Do you think you can walk to the hospital wing?"

     A small bulge under the robe nodded. Or shook. I couldn't tell. It was probably a yes though. At least, that what I'd like to think. They tried to stand, but they were obviously terrible at it. Understandable, seeing as they were just hit by at least one ancient wooden door that should have been a fossil by now. After two failed attempts at standing, they just gave up and lay on the floor like a ragdoll that didn't have any purpose anymore.

     It was pathetic.

     "Here, lemme help you." I said after I couldn't watch them lay on the ground anymore. I pulled the robe straight and gasped.

     "Malfoy??" I practically screeched.

     He half-opened an eye that was beginning to turn black and blue. "No, I'm the duke of Monkeybutt." He sounded like he had never heard of water before.

     I was too stunned to speak. I knew it was him, but my brain still didn't register it. Malfoy had two black eyes, a bloody nose, and a swollen lip, and blood was smeared all over his normally pristine uniform. His skin was pale, even paler than normal, (yes, it's possible!) and had a tinge of sickly green in it.

     Ew.

     "Well," I said, standing up. "I'm going to go get Pomfrey-"

     "No!" he yelped.

     "Why not?"

     "I... I might die here while you're gone!"

     "Don't be so dramatic. You haven't even broken anything, only bruised your face." I heaved him to his feet and cautiously stepped back a bit. He wobbled, then fell onto me, blood smearing on my clothing, but I hardly noticed it.

     "I can't, I can't..." he whispered.

     "You can do it. Come on. You only got hit by a door," I sighed, then draped his yucky bloody hand over my shoulder, and half walked, half dragged him to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey looked up when we entered, then pointed to the nearest bed. I dragged him over and he dropped onto the bed, breathing heavily.

     "Oh. My. God."

     "Oh, don't be such a drama queen." I said, looking down at my dirty clothing but not remembering a single cleaning spell for the life of me. I just shrugged. Since when did I care about my appearance? Never. Madam Pomfrey came over and did a few spells to clean him up and bandaged him. I felt weird just standing there, but something inside me couldn't leave, so I just found a stool and sat down, taking a book out of my bag to study. I felt Malfoy's eyes on me the whole time, but I didn't dare meet his gaze.

Draco

     I couldn't tear my eyes off her. I just couldn't.

     She was a strange sight indeed, perching on a stool with blood all over her uniform, textbook laying in her lap and tip of her quill in her mouth, but she had never looked so beautiful. I couldn't tell if the dull, pulsing pain came from my head, or my heart. Probably both. I sighed. I knew I could never be with her, but a small part of me dared to hope. I hated that part, wanted it to disappear, but I knew that if it were to go away, I would be nothing.

     Hope was the only thing I had left.

Hermione

     Soon enough, (I couldn't believe how much time flies when you're studying!) it was too dark for me to see the words on the page. I did a few spells to light the torches and turned back to my book. But before my eyes could land on my page, they lingered on something else. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. He looked so vulnerable, asleep in a tiny hospital bed, so unlike his usual swaggering, holier-than-thou facade. And he looked... melancholy. I never really noticed how sad his eyes always were. They looked like they had seen a lifetime of sadness, those grey orbs, and the soul inside could never be the same, no matter how many spells you cast. I also never really noticed how gorgeous he was, even if he was bruised and covered with bandages.

     What the heck, Hermione? Why are you thinking these things? Are you out of your mind?? I tore my eyes away from him, put my things away, and walked out the door. But I couldn't ignore the little pain in my heart when he was out of sight.

2003 words :( I should try telling that to my past self tho lol

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