Blade Of War (Dramione)

Chapter 15

Hermione notices the sudden disappearances and reappearances of Malfoy. Whenever they engaged in some sort of ongoing conversation, of nothing but heat and revolt, he goes away for just a day or two. He also leaves the room with nothing but an eager stride. One second he's barely inches from her, and the next he's out the door faster than his feet.  

It happened every time. Every time they got physically close, and each time its simply just too close. Too close then they can take, then he's just gone. Years ago she would relish in his absence, yet now its only lead her to further curiosity.

He always made a quick exit, almost avoiding her eyes, yet as he did he caught them and his steps dragged slower, as he kept his expression blatant.

Hermione thought about it all day, everyday. How he could read her mind with a merely a look?He could tell what she's thinking, and he has all the pride to tell it right to her. To tell her how she sees him. He also can't blame her, he sees her rather worse.

Everyday she tells her self she needs to escape. Almost as if it's a duty. Yet she cant, and even if she tried, it would be hell that awaits.

She also thinks of Malfoy's words. How she couldn't kill him if she tried, but he's read her mind to know that a bone in her wants too. She knows he has that very same motive as well.

One day they'd be knee deep, in a stand off, with a dagger to the throat. Except the blade wouldn't edge into the others neck, it would slightly hover, but wouldn't touch the others skin. The other would simply grin at the fear build up in their eyes.

Thats how she imagined it would play out. Same went for him.

And they wouldn't feel an inch of remorse.

She almost blinks out of the scene play in her mind. 

She notices the slight slip away of her abrupt panic attacks, as she used to get them constantly. She inspects that since she has gotten rather used to the manor, they were now less frequently occurring. She found it in herself to subdue them to the best of her ability. She found that the books often helped, and since she were granted permission to the manors library, it had given her something different to distract her brain.

She found it rather challenging, yet necessary to not let the war, replay time and time again, and thats when she found herself not breathing rapidly and clutching her chest for air. Once she had something else swarm her brain it was rather beneficial to her mental state. No where near perfect, yet a smidge better.

When her and Malfoy spat words of foul the others way, she wasn't in despair, yet she was rallied up and something had ignited a rush that overtook. She underestimated how far rage could take her blood boiling.

She only wished that rage took her to the willingness to escape, yet she wasn't about to play foolish. She had to play her cards right. 

Yet the abrupt guilt that overcame, brought her back to a spiral in which she would let it play out, yet wanted to pull the feeling out entirely. 

Hermione's curiosity of the manor alway grew, which explained her struts down the long winded corridors, yet since the last of her occurrence there she now took an extra measure of precaution when exploring. Ever since she spotted Pansy she's been more reluctant.

She saw her, heavily cloaked in robes of a menace, and questioned everything she knew. A worker for the dark could be anyone, thats what she noticed during this time. Not only was Theo an accomplice, but Parkinson as well. Granted, she did not know Pansy and Theo all too well, yet she knew they weren't malicious in their intent.

Yet there they were, both face fallen with a sense of dark that Hermione couldn't describe. Whatever it was, it wasn't there before, it want plastered on their look back at Hogwarts. They were now in the midst of the other death eaters, which meant they shot and fired words of hurt, and spells that brought one to a screech. There could have been more that Hermione was clueless to, but she went off what she knew.