"Look at this, everyone," Draco smirked, walking around the desk to place his hands on the side opposite the girl, leaning forwards so he towered over her. Despite her standing, he was still casting a shadow upon her face. "The mudblood Gryffindork in our corner. How cute."
He glared down at Hermione, who was the only Gryffindor girl in the 'Slytherin' corner of the library. Around her were Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, Marcus Flint, Crabbe and Goyle, and a few more she couldn't care to name. She raised her eyes up, a blank expression lining her features. She had heavy eye bags, and her eyes were bloodshot. She looked gaunt and weary, like she hadn't slept or stopped moving in weeks. She gazed at him out of the corner of her eye, blinking slowly.
"Aw, look, is she about to cry?" he mocked, getting closer to her face.
Hermione turned her face to look at him directly. Her facade never wavered as she stared him down. "Go ahead and cry, little boy," she taunted in a low, firm tone, emphasizing the word 'boy'. She tilted her head to the side as she looked him up and down before continuing. "You know what your daddy did, too."
She raised her eyebrows slightly, her words coming out with as much malice she could muster in her sluggish pace. "You know what your momma went through."
The Slytherins stared in shock at this exhausted girl spilling Draco's darkest secrets. How did she even know them? And why was Draco so shocked and hurt looking?
"You've got to let it out soon," she glared. She snarled at him as she said, "Just let it out."
She leaned back against the wall she was cornered in, the ghost of a smirk on her face.
Draco, who was somehow even paler than usual, regained his composure. A snarl formed on his face. With the speed of a serpent, he made his way around the table. Since she was in a corner, it made it all the easier to put a hand on the left side of her head, his right hand holding her chin up with his wand to look at him.
"Tell me something, Granger," he growled in a low voice. It was hard to be mad at her, the girl he still loved, but Draco was very good at hiding his emotions. "How are your little parents doing?"
Hermione's bloodshot eyes went wide, and he watched as a bead of sweat formed on her brow.
"Last I heard, they were somewhere in a shallow grave. Buried in a thunderstorm. Is that why you act like a little first year when it thunders, Granger, or are you actually that childish?"
Hermione wasn't looking at him. She gazed at the ceiling, and met his eyes again. He saw the pain and hurt in them, but he didn't move to kiss her like his instincts told him to.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled.
He sneered, digging his wand in a little harder, trying to make it look real without hurting her. "Don't try to apolo-
"No, Draco," she said in more than a whisper. The Slytherins around her began to throw her looks, whispering amongst themselves. "I'm sorry you will never know love, or friendship, or kindness. You will forever be a disappointment to those you promise your loyalty to."
He gazed in shock, giving her time to grab his wand. He let her have it, and she quickly switched their positions, grabbing her satchel as she did so.
"You're the weak one here, Malfoy," she whispered. He took one last moment to see the way her cheekbones protrude more than they should, how her own eyebrows made shadows dance upon her eyelids, how her full lips trembled, and how despite her size, she kept her chin up and her shoulders set. He missed her. With a final movement, his wand clattered to the ground, and she was gone.
Silence fell upon the group who just saw Draco lose their verbal battle. He just smiled, shaking his head at the ground.
"What is it, Draco?" Blaise asked.
"Seems like I always end up cornered with a wand to my throat with that damned Gryffindor," he laughed, acting like none of it ever happened. His friends thought it be best that way, too.
But he remembered still.
Words hurt, and words of a beloved cut like a knife.
