NOVEL NEXT Chapter 30: Chapter 30
He'd forgotten her other arm. Stupid mistake really considering the history between his face and her fist. She spun her petite form quickly and managed to catch his jaw; not particularly hard, but enough to make him stagger back and release her. With a swish of her robes, her wand was out and firing a hex that sent him flying backwards to land in the bathroom, a loud smack echoing across the tiles. The wind was knocked out of him and his ribs ached from the hit, but he slowly raised his dizzy head to study her.
His ashy eyes flashed open to find her waiting by the doorframe; her anger only slightly clouded by her mist of tears. The witch's body was quaking more violently now, her muscles seizing up, and her erratic breaths leaving her mouth in loud bursts. He was disorientated from her spell, and he blamed that for the random thought that crossed his mind; she'd never looked more alive.
"I told you to leave me alone!" she shouted, and he could see that she was allowing her emotions to ride her. "You slimy bastard!"
He knew he'd pushed her too far, it was so glaringly obvious in her enraged stance and the uncontrollable spark in her glare. She was just one snarky comment away from bursting at the seams, and every instinct was screaming at him to heed the foreboding angle of her wand. But his inner-Slytherin reminded him of his pathetic and laughable behaviour towards Granger in the last few days, and the familiar insult just stumbled out of his mouth so easily.
"Filthy fucking Mudblood."
Something snapped in her. He actually saw it; the flicker of something dark in her eyes, something almost feral. He tried to shift but another wave of nausea from Granger's attack flushed his brain, and he squinted his eyes to try and focus on her.
"Mudblood," she repeated in a husky hum, raising her wand slightly.
He spat out a startled grunt as she stabbed her palm with the tip of her wand, dragging it across her flesh to create a thin red slit. She stalked into the bathroom then, nearing him and displaying her fresh wound. He watched with a morbid fascination as a ribbon of blood glided down her middle finger, and two ruby pearls rained down to splat against the ivory floor by his feet.
"You find this filthy?" Hermione questioned with a wavering tone, crouching down so she was at his level. "You think my blood is filthy?"
"Granger-
"DO YOU?" the witch yelled, leaning forward to snatch his hand.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, accepting that he was starting to panic in response to her dubious movements. "Granger, what the fuck?"
She quickly drew a similar slice across his hand, and a combination of his shock and still-sluggish reflexes didn't allow him to interfere as she slammed their palms together with a wet slap.
"There," Hermione spat, holding their twisted and sticky handshake firm as she spoke. "Now your blood's filthy too!"
Strength surged into his muscles with welcoming heat, and it went straight to his arms, tearing his seeping hand from her grasp and throwing her away from him. She screeched across the floor, much like she had this morning, but he was too busy staring at his red-stained skin to note the irony.
The worst thing was he couldn't distinguish her blood from his. It was all the same shade...and he had no idea what that meant.
His wide and disturbed gaze slowly wandered over to Hermione to find her staring at him, her expression horrified and stunned. The ominous edge that had marred her features was gone, and her familiar innocence was back in place. Both of them were breathing heavily, and the sounds ricocheted between them as he tried to regain his wits. There were too many emotions swimming under his skin; anger, mortification, confusion...but it was too much to absorb. So he simply sat there, frozen to the spot with their eyes linked and their chests heaving.
The scene was so oddly reminiscent of their strange morning, but the differences were so significant. There were no playful smirks or childish splashes; just them and the blood. He could feel the metallic tang invading his nostrils, and he suddenly missed Granger's natural taste.
"Oh my God," she gasped, her movements jerky as she leaned on her knees. "Oh my God, Malfoy, I am so sorry-
"Don't come near me," he growled, pressing his back hard against the wall as she crawled towards him. "Don't fucking touch me! You crazy bitch-
"I c-can't believe I did that," she stuttered sadly, fresh tears glossed her cheeks and lips. "Here, let me see-
"What have you done?" he mumbled, glancing down at his wound for a moment before he roughly pulled himself to his feet. "WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE?"
"I don't know!" Hermione whined loudly, shrinking away from him as he stormed past her. "Where are you going?"
"Away from you!" he snapped as he stomped out of the room, pausing outside the door to give her a final glare. "Don't come within an inch of me-
"Malfoy, please!" she blurted, but he'd already disappeared. "Let me explain!"
All she got was the bitter clap of a slammed door. Her body was shaking violently, bordering on convulsing as she coughed up up her cries. Curling herself into a tight ball, her moans and anguished whimpers were barely muffled as she buried her face behind her arms. She let it all go; sobbing until her gut physically burned. And then some more.
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