IMPERFECTION
THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER! I WILL NOT WRITE A SEQUEL!
It's a two-shot, good enough for our lovely duo. If you want to read a funny DMHG story, please check out my The Mudblood and the Ferret story. It will be updated soon, since this is a long weekend. Thank you for reading Imperfection and I hope you all leave some thanks for me at the end…if you get what I mean! (:
WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS INCREDIBLY GRAPHIC! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
All I said, I didn't mean
The chill is strong and nothing seems
To thaw the icy sentiment
Of love that's gone once winter's spent
Cause nothing's worse than seeing you worse than me
And nothing hurts like seeing you hurt like me
The consequence is less than the happiness you bring to me
There's more to give than what you take from me
-Au Revoir Simone "Fallen Snow" (Please check out their remix, located on Myspace. The link is: www. slash theteenagersremix)
She could see it: the thin, long black polished oak wood poking from under her pillow. She tried her hardest to reach it with the heavy weight on top of her, crushing her small bones and breaking her in half. She was biting down hard on her lower lip, her eyes focused on the thin piece of wood before her as it taunted and teased her helpless mind. Her legs were spread apart, and the modest yellow skirt she had been wearing earlier while reading in the small Green House out back was pushed up above her hips to expose her, rumpled and bloody. She had stopped fighting a while ago, and was now staring desperately at her wand.
"Fucking whore."
She was jolted back to reality with that. He, noticing that she was not crying or squirming, brought his hands to her neck and squeezed tightly, hissing, "Scream, you bloody whore." She responded with a whimpering noise, the air escaping her lungs as it shivered and quaked for more air. She placed her small hands on his larger ones and tried to pull them away, fear consuming her as tiny black blotches began to distort her vision.
"No," she whimpered. "Why aren't you coming?" she pleaded in her mind. He laughed.
"How dirty of you Hermione! I told your dad you were a dirty whore."
In Hermione's mind, she wasn't asking him about his sexual release, she was asking herself why her magic wasn't coming to her aid. She had seen outbursts of magic when a person was extremely emotional, but for some reason her body was not allowing for the magic to course through her collapsing veins.
"Because you're not a real witch, you're a muggleborn…see, you're not capable…" her belittling thoughts shouted back. Donnie had removed his hands when he saw a blue tinge enter Hermione's face. He lifted her legs higher, pushing into her deeper and stared down at her in astonishment. She wasn't crying at all. He buried his head in between her pleasantly-sized breasts and moaned.
It was over.
Thank God, it was over.
Hermione locked eyes with him, as she felt him welting inside of her. He growled at the blank look.
A loud clap split through the room, and Hermione felt the side of her face burn.
He had hit her.
"You fucking bitch," he hissed. "You tempted me, you forced me to do this to you!" he pulled himself out of her, pushing himself off her bed, her soiled sheets glaring shamelessly back at him as he stuffed his penis into his trousers. "You wanted it as much as I did…with your small skirts and low cut shirts, you were teasing me Hermione, you're a bloody tease." He moved to pull her skirt down over her hips, only briefly painfully assaulting her down there. She flinched at the intrusion, but otherwise remained still. After righting her again, he yanked her off the bed, throwing her onto the floor. She shouted in fear, and was met with a kick in the side. She lifted her arms up to stop him, but his fists began to touch every spot imaginable on her body, purposefully avoiding her face.
"SPEAK YOU WHORE!"
No, her mind shouted firmly, don't do it.
"SPEAK!"
"DONNIE! ARE YOU UP THERE?" shouted a voice. The Granger's were home.
"You shut your mouth…I'm leaving this place tonight, and it's your fault you dirty whore…" he hissed, pushing her beaten up body away from him. He grabbed the little stuff he had, and walked out the door, slamming it behind her.
…
She allowed for the cool air to rush through her brown locks, her school sweater pulled off of her and wrapped tightly around her waist. She looked down and saw the Quidditch Pitch, twinkling green blades of grass like stars in the sky.
She wanted to end it; she just wanted to let it all go. The Astronomy Tower was the highest tower at Hogwarts, as she had read in Hogwarts: A History. It became the focus of many of her thoughts recently. She constantly told herself that if she jumped off, there would be no chance of survival, that she would die without complications, or awaking to find her self in immense pain, cracked in half and unmoving.
But then tonight, something had shifted in these thoughts. For once, she didn't automatically think about death. Instead, a pale, blonde and handsome face appeared before her. Soft pink lips parted to touch hers and she felt his hot, pleasant breath on her lips and the taste and feel of his velvety tongue searching hers out. Searching and tilting so far into her he could have drowned in her pain, in her fear, and in her hate. She had smiled. Something she hadn't done in months. He had caused that smile, and that familiar rush of blood to enter her cheeks in silly embarrassment.
Her hands were trembling, and slowly she moved away from the edge of the tower. Slowly, she pressed her back to the door that would be her exit from the tower's Observing roof. Gradually, she took in a deep breath, her body aching and tingling to just sprint across the short distance between the door and the edge of the tower and just fly off, to just fly away from all these problems and technicalities. But her mind began to race with images of Malfoy's soft lips pressing against her failures—her thin dark pink lines of pain and torture, reminding her that she was absolutely worthless. She moved away from the door, and instead sat very close to the edge, curling her legs under her as she buried her face into her hands and cried.
The door opened behind her, and she knew it was him. She knew he had found her fleeing form after their kiss. "Leave me alone."
"I can't do that," he responded softly, sitting beside her and staring out at the Hogwarts grounds. "I know now, and I want to help you."
"You hate me. You should be pushing me off this tower yourself, Malfoy," she muttered, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her Oxford shirt.
"Granger," he growled. She waited. She waited for him to hit her because of her sheer stupidity and stubbornness. She waited for him to push her onto her back, pull her knickers off and enter her brutally and mercilessly. She tensed. Instead, he pushed a lock of her hair from out of her tear-stained face. "Just let me take care of you," he continued his voice soft and pleading.
"You can't help me," she firmly responded. "I don't need help, and I don't need someone to take care…of me," she said shakily. "I want to be in control!" she shouted. "I want to be in control, damn it!" she screamed, her voice echoing across the grounds like a haunting cry. Draco recoiled from her, his eyes wide. She turned to him, her own eyes wide and wild. It felt good to scream.
Whore.
She crumpled into tears once again.
Speak, whore.
Draco touched her shoulder, the weight of his hand like a burden on her chest. She pulled away from him.
"Just…don't," she somehow managed to say. Draco removed his hand. "After six years and some odd months, you've decided that the animosity between the two of us should suddenly disappear? Well, I'm sorry Malfoy…that can't happen, and it never will," she said sadly.
"Hermione—"
"Please!" she snapped, standing up and walking to the edge. She could feel the tension between them filter the air like a thick fog of smoke. She stood so very close to the edge, and felt the wind ripple her clothes, as if she was flying. She spread her arms wide.
"What are you—?"
She cut him off, "To think that you, Malfoy, would find out the pain in my heart. To find out the worst about me and gloat over the advantages you can have over this…perpetually suicidal situation of mine." She turned and stared deeply at him
"I want to help you."
"You can't help me," she muttered. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with me."
"Hermione—Granger—just listen to me! If…If you just give me one day, one miniscule day to show you I care, I promise that you won't regret it. I won't take advantage of this situation or you for that matter, in any way. Please, just…step away from the edge. I know things have been completely fucked for you, but things can get better, I know they can, I know they can because I've been there before, Granger. I've felt pain before, pain and humiliation. I've turned to reckless behavior and endured the consequences afterwards. I know I can help you, if you just let me."
…
She slipped into the tub, the water feeling like fire on her porcelain-colored skin. Her usual bright honey eyes were a dull brown as streams of blood floated through the clear water that filled the tub. She began to scrub herself dry with what could have been scentless soap for all she cared. Red patches could be seen around the bruises that covered her body. She was covered in bruises. So many bruises.
Her dad liked to keep razors around in the bathroom, mostly as a shaving tool when he wanted to get just the right shape for his then-beard or then-moustache. She had pulled it out of the cabinet, the metal packed in thin, soft white paper to protect the person from the extremely shape sides. Hermione held it to her wrists, and raked it across them, causing an unnaturally wide wound to open and sprout blood into the already-soiled water. She fell back against the tub, wincing slightly as her head slammed against the back. Slowly, she slid into the tub, her head ever so slightly becoming immersed in the water. She felt her life leaving her body, and tears began to prickle from behind her eyelids.
…
"Let me help you Hermione," Draco whispered, his breath touching the back of her neck.
When did he get so close? She asked herself. It was frightening, but she didn't move away from him, she only looked ahead out into the sprinkling Quidditch pitch, her mind shouting just why she detested flying.
"I said, there's nothing wrong with me," she said dismissively. Hermione lifted on foot from the edge, and moved forward, anticipating her fall from the tower. Although, before she could even feel the gush of hair hit her brown curls once again, Draco Malfoy had wrapped his arms around her body, spinning her away from the edge and pushing her towards the exit. She fell to the ground, her bare knees scraping against the hard ground and snapped her head around to see that Draco was not standing behind her.
He had fallen.
He had fallen trying to save her.
She released a shocking gasp, followed quickly with a choking sob as she crawled away from the edge of the tower, pressing her back against the door to the tower. Biting down on her lip, she prevented herself from screaming aloud.
He was trying to help you! Her voice shouted. Fear spinning wildly in her stomach, she slowly made her way back to the edge, panicky tears falling from her pale face. As she crept closer, she saw a pale hand gripping the tower's railing and screamed.
Draco was holding onto the rail for his dear life, his face deathly void of any color as he took in a shaking breath and tried to calm the crying girl before him.
"Granger…just relax, okay?" Draco said firmly. Hermione would have laughed if it wasn't such a dire situation. Draco Malfoy, who was about to fall to his untimely death, was telling her to calm down. She nodded and tried to reach for his hand. "No! That's not good; I'm too heavy for that. You'll have to levitate me…" he said. Hermione nodded. She pulled out her wand from the sleeve of her shirt and carefully levitated Draco beside her. When he was safely sitting side her, she threw her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so very, very sorry Malfoy," she whimpered. Draco wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her wild hair as his heart beat slowed down and allowed to recoup from his near-death experience. She was shivering and Draco held her tighter. "You could've died!" she gasped. "It would have been my entire fault." She drew in a breath and pulled away from him, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her shirt, realizing that Draco's hands were badly shaking, making his white sleeves fall back slightly to expose two deep dark pink gashes. They were so deep Hermione was sure he would have felt bone beyond the flesh.
"You?" Hermione questioned, grabbing Draco's wrist and pulling it so she could see it better. He tried to pull his arm back, but gave up and allowed Hermione to inspect it.
"Just once. Meant to kill…" Draco said softly. "I did die, for a whole seventeen minutes. My Mother found me locked away in our cellar, called a Healer and they worked on me for the entire time."
"But…" Hermione swallowed. "But why Malfoy?"
"In order to get rid of the Dark Mark, you have to die…I wanted to die because I knew that even though my father was gone, I still had a daily reminder that I was him. That I was his," he said, his voice filled with disgust yet cracking with emotion. Hermione nodded. She had heard rumors that when Draco's dad was incarcerated once again, that he was pushed to join Voldemort. "I didn't want to live knowing that I would have this hideous thing on me, taunting me and making me a lowly servant. I accepted the fact that I had to die to be free. But when I came back, I realized that the Mark was gone. I was born twice, freed…I had a choice. That choice was to live."
"Malfoy…" she started, shaking her head.
"Just let me help you Hermione. I know you can overcome what's happened…"
"You can help me Malfoy, but I don't think it'll be much good. I'm so far gone, I can't think of recovering…"
"You can, Hermione. Love can conquer all obstacles, and I know this."
"I don't know how to love," Hermione said, a small frown filtering her lips. Draco grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly as he looked into her eyes.
"You can learn. I need you, okay?" Draco bent his head low, avoiding Hermione's questioning gaze. He still held tightly to her hand. "I might've called you a Mudblood, hell, I might still hate you…but…I need you…I need you, Hermione."
"Why?" she whispered.
"Because, you're the only thing that creates that fire in my chest, a fire that keeps me awake…keeps my head afloat. I seek you out all the time. Sometimes I don't even know why I'm looking for you, but I find you and just looking at you fuels that fire in my chest. Without you…I'm nothing. Just a speck on a clear-glass window. Useless and filthy." Draco lifted his other hand to place it on Hermione's wet cheek, caressing it softly as she stared heavily at the ground. His hand slid to her pointed chin, and lifted it, making her meet his gaze. "We can live for one another…"
"But what if you hurt me?" she cried. "What if you hurt me like he did?"
"I will NEVER hurt you Hermione."
"But how do I know that? How do I know if you'll never turn against me?" she wept. Draco couldn't take it any longer; he moved his hands from her and instead entwined them around her body, hugging her close to his chest. She fell in to his lap, extremely stiff at their sudden position. She relaxed, however, when she felt his chin rest atop her head. She felt protected, safe.
Her hand curled around his upper arm as she clung to him. Draco had his eyes closed shut.
She was so small in his arms, and it felt…wrong. Hermione Granger was not a weak person. She was not imperfect. She was supposed to be powerful…important…a Gryffindor. She had so many expectations to live up to. He was not ashamed of admitting what had kept him alive this past year. She was the source, however much he tried to convince himself otherwise. He always felt content around her. Beyond his sneers and name-calling, he had felt something for her. He had felt the need to protect and survive around her. He knew that Hermione Granger, proud Gryffindor, would be once more again.
He held her tighter.
Hermione lifted her head to peer into his eyes and that was when he felt her lips brush against his, and with a quiet thank you, she rested her head back on his chest.
It was the start of something beautiful.
A step forward onto a perfect path.
Please leave reviews guys! I would really, really appreciate it. Thank you for reading.