A Mandatory Alliance
By: Provocative Envy
OOO
CHAPTER TWELVE
To: I Don’t Give a Fuck Who You Are
You know what? You don’t deserve this girl.
You write about her like you love her at first, and then you turn around and prove to me that you won’t ever be worthy of her.
Write her a letter telling her you’re depressed? Oh, yes, of course, I forgot entirely that you and I are the best of friends. There is no doubt in my mind that I should most definitely do you this monstrosity of a favor and plead stupidity on your behalf. Note the sarcasm, fuckwit.
I’ll tell you what I will do, however: warn her. Oh, you can be sure that she’ll receive a letter from me. But I’m being honest. She’ll know that you really do love her, but will never admit it; she’ll know all about what you said about her and her pranks; she’ll know what you asked me to do as well as what you already did. I won’t spare you a single truth. You know why?
You don’t deserve it.
From: Like You’d Bother to Remember My Name
P.S. If I don’t get a return letter saying you’ve fixed all of this, I really will do what I threatened. Really. I swear I will.
OOO
In the space of a single day Draco Malfoy’s life went to hell.
He’d had the epiphany of a lifetime after receiving the humiliation of a lifetime. The girl he’d wasted six entire years hating was the only one he’d ever want.
She was intelligent, funny, and kind.
Yet she wasn’t exactly nice. Not really. She was…good. She had morals, and she stuck by them. She didn’t let anyone push her into thinking or doing anything she didn’t believe in.
And that’s when it hit him, the real reason he was undeniably in love with her, why he’d never get over her and why he’d never want to: she wasn’t a hypocrite.
She wasn’t like his father, who couldn’t ever admit what he was, who lurked in the shadows and pretended to be loyal to those who possessed sanity. She wasn’t like Potter, who tried too damn hard to be the hero-boy. And she certainly wasn’t like him, who didn’t even know.
She was Hermione Granger, the Prefect, the Head Girl, the know-it-all.
And she was perfect.
But only for him.
OOO
Hermione Granger was miserable.
Something was missing, something she’d never bothered to consider as a constant. Something she wasn’t certain she even wanted back.
You mean ‘someone’, she thought to herself bleakly, slamming her head against the corner table in the library.
He was like a drug. Addictive, satisfying, and…harmful. Utterly dangerous, actually. He was the biggest ass she’d ever had the misfortune to meet and she wanted him back. She wanted his inane comments and his delightful confusion when she yelled at him; she wanted his selfishness and his arrogance; she even wanted that horrible little smirk he adopted whenever he argued with her. It didn’t matter that the only thing they had in common was their mutual hatred; his flaws were what made him Draco Malfoy. And she loved him for it all.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, a small smile curving her lips upwards. “I love him.”
She scraped her chair backwards, not caring that it fell into an unsuspecting first year kneeling on the floor to get a book on flobberworms. She suddenly had to see him, if only just to reassure herself that he was there. That he would always be there.
She didn’t even notice that he had been standing right behind her the entire time.
OOO
“Oh my God. I love him.”
“Oh my God. I love him.”
“Oh my God. I love him.”
Those six simple words echoed through Draco’s head as he watched her stumble from the library. He’d walked in to get a book for potions and seen her staring at the wall opposite her seat, a bereft expression on her face. And so he’d mustered the courage to confront her with his feelings, not even caring that there was a higher chance of her slaughtering him on the spot than professing her undying love. He’d approached her just as she’d banged her head repeatedly against the table, but had held back his hand when she’d whipped her head back up. It was then that she’d whispered that fateful statement. The statement that had shattered his world.
He felt like he was falling, faster and faster, colors spinning wildly around him as he continued to drop. Pieces of his life were cracking and breaking right before his eyes, and every image that was distorted to the point of obliteration included her face: sometimes smiling, sometimes laughing…but mostly frowning. He barely had a single memory of her that wasn’t unhappy.
A burst of harsh laughter escaped his throat as that thought crossed his mind. And that was a strong foundation for falling in love? For being in love? She didn’t even love him back. She probably loved Pothead, or Fire-Crotch, or…Finch-Fletchley? Was that why she had been so upset to discover that letter had been meant for him instead of the Hufflepuff?
Figures I’d be pathetic enough to be beat out by a Hufflepuff, he thought dismally.
OOO
It was as he was contemplating the slow, painful dismemberment of Justin Finch-Fletchley that night that he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“What?” he barked, not bothering to look to see who it was.
“Draco?” came the deep, manly voice of Vincent Crabbe.
“What, O-Large-And-Loyal-Lackey?” he replied in a monotone.
“Well…uh…you look…sad. Yeah. Sad,” said Crabbe slowly.
“That’s because Granger is dating Finch-Fletchley and…oh, I just can’t stand it, Crabbe! I mean, what did I ever do to deserve this? What?” Draco burst out, finally craning his neck to meet the startlingly wise gaze of Crabbe.
“You love the Mudblood?”
“Don’t call her that,” he said automatically.
“I knew you loved her all along, you know.”
“And how is that, Crabbe? You can’t even figure out how to tie your bloody shoes,” he snapped back.
“It was in your eyes, Draco. Cosmo always says that you can tell what a man is feeling by looking into his eyes. And every time you looked at her…you changed.”
Draco stayed silent, reluctant to admit it was true. Because it couldn’t be true. She loved Justin Finch-Fletchley, not him. And unrequited love was impossible. That was the point of falling in love, wasn’t it? Why it was remarkable, so perfect?
Irony of ironies, it didn’t feel very perfect at that moment.
OOO
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