requirement | dramione

0.17

draco

"You're on His side, then?" Hermione's voice was dripping with distaste, Draco could see the unease of her emotions clear against her fine skin. Draco kept his lips pulled tightly together, afraid that if he even blinked he would expose himself completely. 

Hermione was cornered between Draco's arms, her back flattened against the wall. Her head tilted up, staring at the blonde with those big doe eyes that dared to pull him in, like a bear drawn to honey. 

Hermione's voice went quiet. Her deep brown eyes melted softly and her natural pink glow, which had grown red in her rage, disappeared from her face. Her breath seemed to shiver, authorizing her words to be nothing more than a whisper, "Are you one of them? A Death Eater?"

Draco's heart fell through his stomach. Fear cascaded through his body, starting at his ears where he heard the worry in Hermione's voice and traveling to the very ends of his limbs. He froze. A million opportunities danced in the air between them, circling their heads in a veil of confusion. His eyes searched her, ravaging her face for any sign of knowledge. Hermione's eyes were now calculating, as if she was searching him in return, but clueless. 

He couldn't breath.

"Draco..." 

The young wizard could hear the hesitation in her voice, the slightest raise in tone as she pulled on the sounds of his name. The question in her voice had given her away to him, he now could see that the brightest witch of their age didn't have a clue. She knew nothing. Momentary relief dripped into Draco's throat, giving him enough power to open his mouth. She knew nothing and it was his responsibility to keep it that way. 

But for her safety or his?

"Don't be daft," He forced the words into the air between them, curling his lips into a disappointed scowl. His nostrils flared, representing anger and abhorrence so prevalently that it disguised his worry completely. He concealed his true emotions well, but he could feel his anxiety shaking in his hands. Anger was the only way to hide himself, it always had been, but his breath was beginning to hitch in his throat, not allowing him to fill his lungs. Harsh words were normally easy, but not today; not here; not with her. He willed away the tears that pushed behind his eyes, begging them to stay sedated.

He couldn't keep his disguise on any longer.

He couldn't be here, with her, about to confront him. 

It was too much. 

Draco pried his hands from their resting place and pleaded with his legs to keep him upright. His vision went blurry as he stepped away from the girl, desperate to distance himself from the sweet scent that signified everything he could never have. 

No matter his fear, the thumping of his heart as it begged for fresh air, or battle between voices in his brain, the look of disgust never left his face. He would keep this mask on for as long as possible. He had to. It was the only way. 

He managed to shake his head, tightening his lips together before forcing out "I'm through waiting for this oaf." 

Draco didn't wait for Hermione's reply or reaction. 

He had to get out. He needed to get out now. 

He lurched to the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time until he reached the gargoyle entrance, which opened at his arrival. The boy squeezed himself through the passageway before the gargoyle had uncurled fully, rushing into the hall. He needed to be as far away as possible from Professor Dumbledore, Hermione Granger, or any other person for that matter. His feet moved skittishly but without hesitation, taking him to the only place on the seventh floor that he would be safe.