Chapter Eleven: Lost Inside Memories So Real

"NO! GET OFF! HARRY JUST GET OFF!" Hermione heard her voice screaming somewhere in the distance. Somewhere..

She began instinctively flailing her arms and hands about, trying to kick him off of her, trying to keep him as far away from her as possible. How'd he get into her room? How'd he do it? The door was locked, she could've sworn that she locked the door. So how? Hermione ran the few meters into the conjoined bathroom, and with magic, locked both doors leading into the Heads' bedchambers. How'd it happen? Why? He shouldn't have the password into the Heads' common room anyways!

Hermione suddenly felt the tears which were warm against her pale face, suddenly began to be aware of the fact that she was still kicking and sobbing, flailing her arms about trying to get as far away from him as possible. Aware of the fact that Harry wasn't there..?

She slowly walked back over to the door, pressing her ear up against it, and heard nothing but the complete silence that filled both her bedroom, and the bathroom alike. She opened the door and saw her room, completely empty, completely unstirred except for the books left on her bedside table, and the sheets, which were now on the floor. Her door was still locked. There was no sign of any being in the room.

His invisibility cloak! That must be it! Hermione thought, frantically pointing her wand in all directions, casting spells in every corner of her room. Books were flying, her bed was being levitated, the clothes from her dresser had been strewn all across the room, yet there had not been a cry out, or the shape of Harry, or anyone else's body, uncovering from under a cloak.

No one else was in the room.

Draco awoke, once again, to the many screams and cries of Granger. Only this time, there was more. It wasn't just the incredibly loud sobs that had awoken him, or the cries out for help, it was the name that was yelled, the name of the one person that she had wanted so desperately to get away from, the one person he would least expect. Potter.

Draco listened intently with his ear pressed against his bedroom door, to Granger crying out for him to stop, for him to leave her alone and just stay out of her life, yet the cries never ceased. Was they Golden Boy really in there? Torturing the mudblood in some way? Or was this just another one of the bitch's nightmares that happened to awake his almost peaceful slumber.

Suddenly he heard the abrupt noises of books flying, papers being torn and heavy objects being tossed in all directions. Then they just stopped. After glass shattered, and something was dropped, all that could be heard, were, once again, the deep, distressed sobs of the occupant next door. He couldn't take it anymore. No, it wasn't that he cared, he was determined to make sure that she knew that, after the display that he had shown of something she might consider "affection", he had to make it clear that they were still on the same terms, that she was still nothing but a filthy little mudblood, and he would always be a Malfoy, Pureblood, and perfect. After all, he was above her, he had to make it known. It was his unwritten duty, his chore that he was paid for with nothing but the respects, glares, and terrified faces he received from all of his followers, the people that hated him, and the envious.

It had been weeks, almost 3, since he had taken away the razor from her. And nothing had come of it. Nothing good anyways. Everything had changed dramatically. The glares that she had sent him at one point had stopped. They were now replaced with blank expressions, and far away stares at someone, or something, that seemed to be behind him, somewhere off in a distance that she couldn't reach.

And him? What was wrong with him? He had made it a point not to be anywhere near her when he could, but why? He was a Malfoy, the act that he had done should've caused him to be immediately punished for.. But no one had known. No one had found out. She hadn't said anything to anyone, at least, not to anyone who had told, and his father hadn't found out. The Dark Lord hadn't found out, and for that he was grateful. Grateful, but also extremely scared. If they hadn't found out yet, then it just meant they would find out soon, and then, he would be punished not only for his acts, but for the fact that he hadn't done anything about it yet, or covered it up in any way, because he too, was shocked at his actions, shocked at the fact that he had possibly saved the mudblood's life, so he had to cover for himself. Had to think of an excuse why he did it. Just not right now. Now, he had to go and show her that he was back, the taunting, teasing, rude, malicious Draco Malfoy was back, and he wasn't going anywhere this time. 3 weeks of ignoring her completely must've given him quite a new reputation in her books, so he had to show her that it was over with, that it was just another one of his mind games, another way to show that he had the power in controlling what she thought of him, the power to control everything.

He turned the doorknob, only to find it was locked by some spell or another. Grabbing his wand from his nightstand, and quickly giving it a swish, the door opened. For the smartest mudblood in school, she was sure a git if she couldn't even stop a door from being unlocked. He entered their conjoined bathroom, and saw her standing just beyond the doorway leading into her bedchamber, seemingly frozen except for the fact that her shoulders were heaving slightly. Here it comes, an onslaught of vicious words, he thought inwardly. Wonder if she's prepared…

"Granger, what the bloody hell is your problem? You think that you can just go and disturb my sleep because you decide that it's time to-"

But before he could even start getting the good comments out, before he had a chance to finish his sentence with "rearrange your filthy mudblood hole." She had run up to him, and hugged him, and was wrapping her arms around him so fiercely that he didn't think he'd be able to breathe if she didn't let go soon. Then she began to speak, so quietly, so delicately the words were almost inaudible.

"Ronald…thank you. Thank you for making him go away. Thank you for saving me. Thank you…"

Draco could only stand there petrified. He had no idea what was going on. No idea why she was calling him "Ronald". To even imitate the thought of having that disgusting hair… being that lanky and uncoordinatedly, it disgusted him, yet she was obviously keen on believing that this was who he was. She was obviously delusional, what was he do to?

"G-Granger, get off me!" He suddenly just cried out, pushing her away from him with full force. He hadn't meant to make her fall backwards onto the ground…but now that she was where she belonged, she might as well stay there, right?

"Ronald…have you turned on me too? Have you decided I'm not good enough also? Hermione cried, all the while looking straight into Draco's eyes. How could she not realize that this wasn't the Weasel? What the bloody hell was her problem?

"Listen here you filthy little mudblood," Draco snapped, a new anger suddenly rising inside of him, "I am definitely NOT fucking Weasel boy, so you must be pretty bloody messed up inside that dirty little mind of yours to think that I am. I just came in here to tell you that you had better stop waking me up with your pathetic shouts and cries, and your pleas of help that, in case you didn't notice, ALWAYS go unanswered. The next time it happens, I can assure you, you WILL be sorry."

With that Draco spun on his heel and abruptly left her room going back through the bathroom to go and take a shower. He had touched the filthy thing, he had been inside of it's bedroom, he definitely needed to scrub down now before classes.

Suddenly, Hermione looked around her torn apart bedroom. What is going on around here? What…what happened? Where did Ron go? Harry…Harry had left to. Was he ever there? Hermione began to rub her arms up and down her body, rubbing furiously to try and see if Harry had left any new bumps or bruises, surely because he had just been there moments ago she would feel sore in at least one area or another. Yet she felt no physical pain. Only the pain that was up inside her mind, so scattered and confusing, just like the contents of her room. He had just been there; they had BOTH been there. Ron had saved her from him? Right. He had finally come to save her from the monster that Harry had become. So where had he gone off to? She was supposed to ride off with him on his white horse now, not be left behind.

Well, I guess that's chapter eleven! Sorry if it was confusing, or if it wasn't what any of you expected, but things that might have been misunderstood or confused will be better explained in the following chapters, and if you are confused with Hermione's odd behavior, then take a few seconds to re-read the chapter title I suppose lol. Sorry again if it wasn't up to standards or expectations, hope you still enjoyed it though, and sorry for the delay. A dance actually inspired me to write this chapter.
Love Always,
Carly Jayne