♕ thirty six

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 Draco, Hannah, Zacharias, Professor Slughorn, and Hermione were all called to the Headmaster's Office within the hour.

Draco sat in a chair to the far right and wrung his hands together nervously as Professor McGonagall stared furiously at the three students who sat before her. 

Hermione was nowhere to be seen. 

"You," she said sharply to Zacharias. "You are a disgrace to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

He hung his head. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, Professor," he mumbled. 

"YOU KNEW VERY WELL WHAT YOU WERE THINKING, MR. SMITH!" McGonagall yelled. Zacharias fell silent and so did Draco. Only Hannah's whimpering could be heard. The poor girl had been rather traumatized by the sequence of events. 

But Zacharias's actions only confirmed Draco's fears. That he had, indeed, stolen the potion. 

And Hermione was in love with McLaggen. 

"Mr. Malfoy, I understand that you brewed the potion in question, is that correct?" McGonagall said rather calmly, turning to face Draco. 

"Yes, Professor," he answered. 

"And did anyone else assist you in brewing the potion?"

"Yes," Draco said rather forcefully. McGonagall looked taken aback. 

"Sorry, Professor, I-" he cleared his throat. "Yes. I worked with Granger."

His stomach heaved. 

McGonagall nodded and turned back to Zacharias. 

"You will receive zeroes on all of this weeks assignments, and will therefore be required to redo  them in the coming days. You will no longer be allowed to roam the corridors past seven o'clock. After dinner, you will report straight to your dormitory and stay there until the morning. 100 House Points will be taken from Hufflepuff. Detention each night for the rest of the winter months will be served. Your parents will be informed of your actions and I will let them do what they think is best to reprimand you for these heinous actions of yours, Mr. Smith. Have I made myself clear?"

Zacharias, who looked close to tears, nodded fearfully. McGonagall dismissed him with a wave of her hand and he scampered out of the room, deliberately avoiding Draco's gaze. 

"Miss Abott," McGonagall said, turning to Hannah. "Anything you require to get through this will be provided to you." 

Hannah nodded gratefully. 

"You schedule has been changed so that Mr. Smith is no longer in any of your classes, and your parents have been informed as well. You may return to your class."

Hannah thanked Professor McGonagall and then turned to give Draco a smile. The moment she exited, McGonagall turned. 

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Mr. Malfoy?" she said softly. 

Yes. A million things.

"No, Professor," Draco replied flatly. 

McGonagall nodded. 

"If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask."

"Yes, Professor."

Draco exited her office feeling blank. 

He had accepted the situation, the awful situation that he had been thrown into. He didn't pay any mind to where he was going, he just kept walking. Passing brick wall after brick wall and painting after painting, not caring where he went. Anywhere but here was fine with him. 

Although he didn't know exactly where "here" was. Without Hermione, he was lost. 

"SHUT UP!" Draco yelled to an empty hallway. He hated her name. He hated thinking her name. It was like a hot knife in between his eyes, the mere thought of her. 

But he didn't hate her nearly as much as he hated himself. 

How could he have been so Of course he and Hermione never could have worked. They had been mortal enemies for so long. Those feelings don't just go away. Evidently Hermione had remembered how awful he'd been to her and chosen someone else. 

Suddenly Draco's mind exploded with white hot anger, blistering and frothing and begging to be let out. 

He needed to forget. He needed to burn everything between him and Hermione, needed to forget he ever loved her. He needed to forget what love even felt like. 

Without thinking, Draco spun on his heel and marched down the corridor. His mind was set on one thing. 

He didn't care how he achieved it, he just wanted to let his anger out In any way possible.

Somehow, through all the blinding anger and loathing rushing through his head, he had made it to the Hufflepuff Common room, where he knocked three times. The door was opened by a girl with platinum blond hair and green eyes. 

It was Sierra Harrison, the girl who had made a move on Draco at Hermione's party. Her eyes lit up when she saw who had knocked. 

"What brings you here, Draco?" She asked rather sultrily. 

Draco gave a sly grin. "I've been thinking about you a lot," he said, giving her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 

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She pushed her body up against his and pressed him to the wall, kissing him slowly and lustfully. He complied and wrapped his arms around her thin waist, before Sierra grabbed his hand and moved it up to her chest, letting his fingers wander. His hands moved lower and he ran them over her hips as she tugged gently on his collar. Draco could feel her hands as they began to undo his shirt; as each button popped out, he imagined the pain that Hermione had caused him leaving his heart. Sierra began to unbutton her own shirt and threw it to the floor as Draco let his eyes close, willing the tears away. This was not Hermione. 

She pulled away and led him over to her four poster bed, where she pushed him onto the mattress and began to bite his neck. Draco moaned, partially from the agony he felt as his heart was split open. He let his hands travel all over her, pushing away his memories of Hermione, out of his mind and out of his life. His hands moved to take off her pants and she assisted him, sliding the denim off and wrapping her legs around his torso. Draco sat up and felt his hands glide over her chest and up into her hair. 

"Dracoooo," she moaned, and he felt her tongue on his lips. 

He wanted to stop. To stop kissing this girl that wasn't the one he loved, to leave her room and forget everything that had happened. To run back to the one who had his heart and wrap his arms around her and cherish her for the rest of his life. 

But he couldn't. A life with Hermione was impossible. She loved someone else. 

He continued to let Sierra press her body against him as he kissed her back, running his hands through her hair. 

Hermione had done this to him. 

She had turned him into this sick, twisted version of himself, and this was the only way Draco could think to hurt her. 

Even though he disgusted himself, even though he felt guilt wash over him as Sierra ran her hands over his chest, he continued to kiss the girl he didn't love, so he could forget about the one he did. 

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