Your Calling

There was no kindness in the words she spoke to him. There was simply light in the way she looked at him; it gave him hope, in the times that he needed it more than ever. Would she ever forgive him, after everything he was about to do? DracoHermione

XX

"If I told you right now, that you are the most annoying girl I think I've ever met, what would you do?"

A hand slaps you, echoing distantly in your ears and eyes. You could see that was coming. But why does it hurt so much?

"I would slap you and tell you that you are the most egotistical prat I have ever known."

And those words, too, take to you like fire. They smolder your composure for the longest second you think you will ever bare. The emotions show it all; you beg for forgiveness for that one second it's there, and she sees it, and knows that whatever you say next will mean nothing.

"Well, there's a Mudblood with a mouth," you say.

Her eyes betray her, too, for a moment, and you can't help but wonder if you've gone too far. Maybe, if you really say the words 'I'm sorry' then she will hug you and tell you a million times over that she forgives you, and that she loves you with every fiber of her being.

As if in a dream world, it plays in your mind like a wind-up toy. It sings brightly for a moment, skipping and stuttering like it knows it will soon be time to die, and then it does. It simply burns out, with the image of her words still plastered to your brain like tape.

You expect another slap, but she merely glares. You wonder idly if you've worn out that word; it used to inspire tears, yet now it doesn't even deserve a retort. Maybe, if you play it ignorantly, you will never make her cry again.

She walks away from you with swinging hips and bushy hair, and you merely stare. There is some beauty in this world, after all.

XX

You're staring at her hair for the millionth time that day. When nothing else gets your attention, besides the life or death situation you are currently entangled in, she grabs it like she means to. You try not to stare, because you know someone else will eventually notice, but you can't help it. It's hypnotizing you to pieces.

There is the constant scribble of her quill, and it's the only one in the entire room. Whether others are writing, you don't know, because you're only paying attention to her. Her hair is highlighted in different places. Why didn't you notice this before? It's a beautiful sort of ugly, you say. There is some denial in your words, but it gives you chills to think that the truth is so much more than just her hair.

"Draco?" someone says.

"What?" you snap.

"Why are you staring at Granger?"

You turn and meet the eyes of your desk partner, Pansy Parkinson. She looks at you with curiosity and jealousy, but it does not surprise you. She was never a bright girl.

"Well, what else is there to stare at? Her hair takes up the entire room."

You say the last sentence louder than necessary, so the awake half of the room turns to stare at you. She is one of them, and the malice in her eyes is deafening. You recoil slightly, but chuckle on the outside. Your pride is all you have to show her.

She turns around and continues her notes, and you quiet down and continue to stare at the bushy hair you love so much.

XX

You're in the bathroom crying again.

The sobs rack your body, and waves of sadness fall over you in a sick sort of rhythm. It scares you for a minute, the loudness of it all.

What do you do now? There is nowhere to go; nothing to do now that you're destiny is set in stone. You have a purpose in life now. There is no way of getting out of it.

It is in your responsibility to do it, no matter what you try and tell yourself. There are people counting on you, people who will never care about you but have put something they care about in your hands. Your idiotic enemy, 'The Chosen One', did an even bigger thing with ease. So why can't you?

The answer is there, biting you like a sharp piece of glass on your tongue. You know it's the total truth, yet you cannot admit it. It would be like dooming yourself to more tears.

"Because he was doing the right thing."

And the tears come like rain.

Is that it, then? Is that what your life will be? Doing the wrong thing, no matter where your life takes you? The answer to that is right there as well…. Yet it's different than before. Maybe, doing what you're doing isn't everything that your life is.

"Maybe doing the wrong thing isn't everything," you say.

Maybe, fighting for what you were cursed to fight for is the only way out. When you're out, maybe there is hope that you can finally do what you want.

"Maybe it's not always fighting for what's right," you say. "Maybe it's fighting for what's needed."

And right now, you needed her more than you could care to say.

XX

"Say it."

"Not when you're listening."

There is a flurry of hair and limbs, and you are pressed against the wall.

Again.

But you don't mind, because she's there. Her lips, her hair, her tongue. Everything about her is fighting against you, working in harmony with your body to keep you down. Like the deepest level of irony, you're helping her to keep yourself down. She knows everything. She knows what you've done, what you're doomed to do.

She knows everything.

"I'm not leaving you, Draco," she says. Her eyes are glazed over with lust and sadness, but there is fight there. You know that she is willing to fight to keep you down, and the thought scares you.

What if you end up fighting back?

"I'm not letting you," you say, and the words have a double meaning.

Her very soul is wrapped around you, and you can taste it. It tastes like peppers and genius, and it burns your tongue like the spice that it is. If she were to be in her element right now, not outside of it and curious, she would be glowing with intelligence in her hands.

"If I'm so smart," she says, her tongue molding the words into yours, "then why am I still here?"

The answer does not concern either of you for the moment. You are wrapped up in each other, spacing out and in, loving and fighting for the only thing either of you will ever want.

You kiss her with a fierceness that surprises even you. Maybe, if she can taste your soul too, she will know that there is a reason to stay where she is.

Just in case she can't, you say it softly, "Because I need you, Hermione. I need you more than I can care to say."

You can't share the thought together. She loves you, and you know she does, even though those words have never come close to leaving her mouth. They are always sharp words, bitten and spat. You, hidden in remorse, are not there for her when she needs it. You're there for you, because you will need it more than she will ever know.

"Draco," she says, and her words no longer sharp. "When the end to all of this comes, I will love you."

It breaks you inside. She knows that the end will win over what you have; when it does come, you will be far apart and have lives separate from each other. She knows that whatever the outcome might be, you will need her forever more just for what she is: the hope of tomorrow.

She knows everything.

She knows everything, and this time you hope she'll always be right.

XX

I'm so sorry for the clarity in this! None of it is really obvious, it's all very deep, and you will probably have to read it a couple of times to even begin to understand. I'm really sorry for that! I really wanted to try and right something in second person, but nothing too long because I know it can get annoying, and this is what happened!

The main point of it is that it's set in HBP, and Hermione and Draco are both battling two different things. Hermione wants to help Draco, more than anything, but she also really does love him. So it isn't really a chore for her, as Draco sometimes believes she thinks. Draco, however, is undergoing the struggle of his mission to kill Dumbledore, and he thinks that there is no hope for a better tomorrow until she comes along and changes that. So they are both kind of helping each other. Hermione tells Draco that in the end she will love him, because she wants to give him something to fight for, whether it's a good or bad thing.

Ah, I slept until 12 this afternoon! I stayed up most of the night reading this AMAZING book! It's called 'Lovely Bones'. I recommend it to anyone!

Oh, and Harry Potter belongs to none other than JK Rowling.

Please review and let me know what you thought! Thanks again!

P.S. I had to update this story to add this part.... Because you HAVE to tell me (if you've seen it already) what you thought of HBP. I am quite speechless.