Draco (Flashback)
Five Years Ago
Fresh air does the body good, especially when I can't breathe. I've already loosened my tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt. My hair is no longer intact from the amount of times I've run my fingers through it.
I'm unsettled, and I can barely stand it. I'm uncomfortable, and I feel like I'm dying. My chest is tight. Rubbing it doesn't help. I've already purged my stomach three times now and a fourth time feels like it's on its way. The only comfort I have is the coolness of the night blowing against the warmth of my face.
Bloody hell. How the fuck can I do this? I always knew there was something different about her when I met her years ago, but I never imagined it being this. I always thought she was just a... Well, just a muggle. She was supposed to be my breath of fresh air at the end of shitty day, someone who knew nothing about the hell hole of my life, my true existence. And yet, here she fucking is. At Hogwarts. In Slytherin. I could tolerate her being at Hogwarts. Fine. But Slytherin? Her innocence will be gone by the end of the week, the only thing I found comfort in.
I couldn't wait for the Grangers to visit the countryside in the summer. I'd count down the days until I could see Hermione again. Her infectious smile, her bubbly attitude, her curing laughter, her warm green eyes, her curly brown locks.
Leaning against the cold stone window sill, I close my eyes and smile. Those bloody curly locks. God, they were everything. Rubbing my thumb and index finger together, I can still feel the softness of her curls in between my fingers. We'd sit under the stars on the warmest night, drawing the constellations out with our fingers. And when she'd fall asleep, I'd watch her chest rise and fall and gently wrap my fingers around the rich chestnut brown curls that were still intact from the humidity of the day, only to fall asleep not long after.
Night after night, we'd do that. Her parents didn't care that she was spending time with the neighbor boy and mine were too absorbed with illicit affairs to even care. As long as I showed up for breakfast the next day, they never gave a shit.
But the curls were gone today, completely fried by the stress of the day. Between the traveling and the tumultuous Sorting Hat ceremony, she was already losing herself.
I took in a deep breath and exhaled it. Through multiple tries, I could finally breathe the cool air in of the night without wanting to cough. The worst part? It hasn't even started yet.
Looking up at the stars, I try to find a reason to smile. I look for those constellations we'd draw night after night with our fingers, but I swear they're hiding from me. I just see twinkling lights. Maybe I'm more tired than I thought. Physically, I feel fine, but this must be emotional exhaustion. It would seem Hermione Granger has that effect on me. Her sadness is my sadness. Her pain is my pain. Her anger is my anger. Her misery is my misery. She doesn't deserve this. She deserves to be happy.
And I'm at a fucking loss of how to help her achieve it.
"Mr. Malfoy."
I suck in a sharp breath and slowly exhale it. I slide off the stone and come face to face with Professor Snape. He will be the bane of my existence, I can feel it.
"I don't want to hear it," I grumble, brushing dirt from my trousers. I lost the robe and vest before coming out here to the courtyard. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone found me. Of course, it would be him.
"Then you know where you should be right now, Mr. Malfoy, and I expect you to get there," he answers. "I trust you can find your way back there."
He turns on one foot and disappears back inside the castle with his cloak billowing behind him. I know I need to get him on my side. Father told me Professor Snape would be my biggest ally, but fuck him right now.
Actually, you know what? Fuck all of this. I don't have time to deal with this bullshit.
I head back to the Common Room where I hear the conversations and gossip surrounding Hermione. Nobody wants her here. Truth be told, she doesn't belong in Slytherin. I'm just as confused as the next person about why the fuck the Sorting Hat thought it would be a good idea to put someone like her in here. It couldn't be for shits and giggles. There's a reason, but it's not fair for her to have to endure this.
"Oi, Malfoy!"
My eyes move toward the sound of my name. I see Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle surrounded by Marcus Flint, Millicent Bulstrode, Astoria Greengrass, Adrian Pucey, and Theodore Nott. I'm all too familiar with every name of every member of this bloody house, even as a first year, especially since I know these bloody twats are going to say things about Hermione that are going to make me sicker than I already am.
"What?" I grumble.
"What are your thoughts on this?" Flint asks.
"About?" I ask, knowing full well the answer.
"That mudblood Granger," he replies. "She has no right bloody being here."
"You've got to admit that she's some delicious fresh meat, though," Pucey snickers, nudging Flint, who joins in on the snickering.
Que my stomach knotting. The fucking nerve of these shitheads. I know I have plenty still to learn, but disrespect is something I just can't fucking tolerate.
"She is kind of cute," Astoria remarks, shrugging, before looking at me. "What are your thoughts, Draco?"
The way she looks at me makes my skin crawl. Father wants our families to unite and me to fornicate with her when the time comes. The fuck I won't. She has this air about her that is offputting. It might be the permanent resting bitch face she wears so proudly.
"Her being in Slytherin is some bloody joke," I answer. "That Sorting Hat should be tossed in the fire and a new one created. Thrusting a mudblood into Slytherin is just asinine."
One of the knots in my stomach tightened when I used that harsh moniker. Mudblood or not, Hermione's heart of gold is about to shatter into a thousand pieces and her glass exterior is going to follow. The fact that she's at Hogwarts gives me an excuse to see her more than just the summers, but now it's going to be my sworn responsibility to take care of her in secret. I can't let her lose herself just because of some stupid logic.
"Agreed," Flint says.
But I use this as my excuse to leave, especially when they faze me out of the conversation. I head straight to the boys dormitory and I collapse onto my bed. I'm exhausted for a whole slew of reasons, the biggest my worries and concerns for Hermione, and I find myself hoping, that as my eyes slowly close for the night, that it's her I find myself dreaming about.