Does anyone even still remember me? Soo long.

Disclaimer: ANYTHING YOU'VE SEEN BEFORE BELONGS TO THE RICH FAMOUS LADY NAMED JK ROWLING.

Chapter Ten; Swallow Me

Ron got up from the armchair again and walked nearer to the fire. Twirling, dancing, spitting, he could see his beautiful Hermione among the flames.

Mine. She is mine.

A subconscious smile crept onto his face as he thought about it. She belonged to him and nobody else, it was he she came home to at the end of the day and it was him and only him who possessed the right to stroke her and kiss her and hold her, to touch her bare skin with his own hands, to whisper things in her ear that would never leave her head, to occupy the same presence and being as her.

If only he could. He knew Hermione was getting impatient with him and it made him feel hopelessly lost but what made it worse was that he wanted it too. The lingering fantasy of their bodies entwined in a sweet dream never left his mind, but as soon as he got within a circumference of ten feet he suddenly became the clumsy, dorky klutz that he so desperately hated.

He thought of the other day in class when he had raised his hand to answer a question when he noticed Hermione turning around to smile at him encouragingly. He lost all presence of mind and stuttered out the wrong answer in incomprehensible English, at the same moment his voice cracked, and then he dropped his wand which caused his chair to vanish and he fell with a bump on his ass. Her adoring smile had quickly vanished and she turned around.

His fists tightened as he stared deeper in the sultry fire. If only he could show her there was no need to be embarrassed of her. If only he could show her he was just as good as Harry, or even…

He tossed the slimy thought aside. Why was he even thinking of that Slytherin bastard? Not only he was even remotely cool, what Harry had said in Herbology about something strange going on between Hermoine and him was only total bullshit. Hermione would never do that to him.

A huge green something rose out of the fire, scaly body glistening, massive wings beating powerfully, and an open mouth full of shiny teeth. It came to rest in front of him, glaring at him, a bright emerald dragon, waiting to swallow and possess. This was indeed a well-known monster, encountered and destroyed by many, this demolishing lurking beast – jealousy.

'' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' ''

It was with a heavy heart that Hermione made her way to the library. Her mind was weighed down with so many things she could not begin to explain, her heart heavy with bitter doubt. If her actions mirrored her emotions she would hiding in a ditch somewhere, screaming for the world to hear and pounding the ground, making marks in the dirt. She would be thrashing about in pain, sobbing until she shriveled up, dead in despair. But she could not, for she had been neglecting her school work for too long, and besides, she was too exhausted to do anything much these days.

She shuffled through the double doors and stopped to look around. So many familiar things met her eyes, the desks, the shelves, the books she knew so well, even the bitchy librarian. This was her sanctuary, this was where she belonged. It was in her work she knew herself best and she could not for the life of her understand why she hadn't been back here in weeks. Interested and preoccupied for the moment, she lost herself in the shelves and reemerged with a tottering pile in her arms. Getting comfortable in her favorite spot by the window, she was quickly sucked into her reading, forgetting all her troubles.

But not for long.

Hermione seemed to be magnetically charged to unhappiness for the past month and this was no exception. It wasn't twenty minutes before loneliness took her over she started wondering what everyone else was doing. She checked out her books and decided to go outside. She spotted the stands upon opening the door of the Great Hall, and decided to find out if anyone was taking a practice flight.

But something was wrong with the scene that met her eyes. Just two figures stood on the grass, each holding a broomstick, facing each other and shouting at the top of their lungs. Making her way over, exactly what they were saying became clear to Hermione.

"You have no god damn right to say anything about her, and if you repeat your filthy insult one more time I will fucking smash your face in!" Ron raged.

"Aren't I so scared? To be beaten up by a Weasel, now that's a real nightmare! I can say what the fuck I want, even if it's about your Mudblood hoe!" Malfoy's fists were clenched and his eyes narrowed to the brink of closing.

"FUCK YOU!" Ron pounced on Malfoy and they bowled over on the soft grass, tumbling in a jumble of arms and legs.

"STOP! PLEASE, BOTH OF YOU STOP FIGHTING!" she shrieked. The two, shocked at realizing they were not alone, broke up quickly and stood up with haste.

"Hermione, what are you doing here? You're never on the field," Ron said, acting as if nothing had happened.

Before she could answer, Malfoy suddenly gave a soft, malicious laugh.

"What?" Ron turned violently and glared forcefully at the one he hated most in the world.

"I'll fly you."

"Where?"

"No, you idiot. A competition. If you make it around the stadium six times before I do, I will never say another word about Granger again. If I win, I don't have to take back what I said and I get the bonus of owning Kinky-Little-Schoolgirl here for one night."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ron was pissed off and this close to hitting him again.

"What, scared your going to lose? Oh wait, I forgot, this is Weasel King I'm talking to."

Hermione stared with an open mouth at both of them, unable to believe what she was hearing. She felt like an object, a standing dummy with no feelings or opinions, one to be used and broken. Had they totally forgotten she was standing right there?

"Malfoy, you are out of your mind." Ron gaped.

Hermione fumed, took a step forward and slapped Malfoy across the face as hard as she could.

"Yeah, he's right Malfoy, you are out of your mind" Hermoine snapped, "but so are you Ron."

She turned around and slapped Ron hard enough to leave a red hand mark.

"You're both bastards, and neither one of you will 'own' me no matter how many times you fly around this god damn court! The nerve of you, to speak about like that, what's worse, with me not one foot away! I fucking hate you both!"

Turning on her heel, she fled, wiping the tears from her cheeks and leaving both Ron and Malfoy with their hands on their faces, and jaws on the floor.

'' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' ''

After about two minutes of total silence, Ron turned slowly to face Malfoy. Malfoy had removed the hand from his cheek, and was regarding Ron with eyes full of contempt, hate, and something that Ron thought was regret. And yet, his expression remained that hated calm.

"So are you in?" he drawled.

Ron slowly shook his head. "Have you totally lost it? Did you not just hear what she said?"

"I don't care, Weasel. I know I can win over you any time I want and I'm going to prove it. Are you in, or not?"

Ron stared steadily back at Malfoy, but he was not seeing the cold, steel eyes. He was looking at something quite different. He was having a wordless argument with the emerald green dragon. It opened its mouth.

"Let's do this."

A hard, frosty grin spread itself over Malfoy's face. His winter eyes glinted.

And they mounted, counted, and took off.

'' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' ''

The door opened.

Hurried footsteps. He grabbed her roughly, hugged her so she choked. He turned his face to hers, and he kissed her with violence. His hands groped her waist, his eyes a messy silver storm. He pulled her closer, he whispered harshly in her ear, "One more time. I need you, just one more time."

She lay in her bed. Tear-strewn; wounded heart, sticky eyelashes, bruised lips, body used and broken.

It was dusk, and the light outside was fading into a glittering blackness. On the horizon the sun was setting, casting eerily beautiful long shadows along the grounds. It was a stunning evening. But inside the castle lay a runny-nosed sobbing young woman, who at the moment was only just a girl.

She buried her face in her pillow and cried silently. Deep in the center of her stomach it was all knots, and her chest felt hollow and empty. She was curled up, holding onto her knees for dear life, and feeling like there was a knife in her heart. She closed her eyes and wished it all away.

The door opened.

Putting down his broomstick, he tiptoed closer and spied a head of curly cinnamon hair. He touched her cheek and found it was wet. He started to worry, but what he saw then made his heart stop. Lying next to Hermione, stiff as a board and staring straight at the wall, was Malfoy.

The dragon opened its mouth wide, licked it's teeth, and consumed him whole, in a wave of vicious jealousy.

"I won for you, Hermione," he whispered. "I won."