Harry Potter Walk Away

**Walk Away**

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**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, characters, names and indicia are trademarks and copyright to Warner Brothers and JK Rowling. 'Walk Away' is sung by Christina Aguilera and is part of the album 'Stripped'.

**Warnings:** Uh…the author has a twisted mind and is morbid as hell? Anyway, the fic is completely angst-ridden. The author accepts no responsibility should this fic offend anyone's ideals.

**Pairings:** Draco/Hermione

**Spoilers: **All published works…I think…just in case!

**A/N:** Well, here we are people, my latest piece of angst. It just seems to me that my muses are very uncooperative and I cannot come up with a single plot that is not painful in some way, shape or form *shrugs*. This is my first piece of non-slash writing…it actually is completely NOT remotely near my OTP (Harry/Draco forever!) but I'm actually surrounded by Draco/Hermione shippers…so I wrote them one.

**Dedications:** Ra and Smashing Sugar…here's to you, na ka!! Hope it meets your standards!! I'm in the process of writing you Christmas present…as I thought that this was a little TOO angsty to be considered a present…Uh…you can have it as a 'nice to finally know that I'm not the only Thai obsessed with fanfiction' present… (No people, English is NOT my first language *grins*) And I can't believe you guys were so close to me all this time and I just found out…anyways…the story…

**Walk Away**

_I was naïve; your love was like candy,_

_Artificially sweet, I was deceived by the wrapping._

_Got caught in your web and I learned how to bleed._

_I was prey in your bed and devoured completely._

"Granger." His voice was a seductive purr originating from somewhere near the door of the Head Boy and Girl Quarter bathroom. She paused, midway through washing her hair, paralysed with the knowledge that he was standing there, watching her every move: the object of all her recent fantasies.

"Something you want, Malfoy?" Yes, him: Draco Malfoy; Head Boy of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry class of 1998, and notorious heartbreaker extraordinaire. It took all her willpower to force out the words without trembling, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yes, Granger," he replied, sounding much closer than before. She felt a presence behind her, yet still didn't turn around but her traitorous heartbeat sped up tenfold as she felt his breath next to her right ear. "You," was the only warning she received before his arms pulled her flush up against his naked body.

She was torn. Torn between screaming bloody murder and melting into the much wanted contact; torn between pushing away her arch-nemesis, the boy who had taunted her for the last six years of her life, and pulling him closer to her; torn between her beliefs of what was right and the feelings she was experiencing at that moment.

All coherent though vanished altogether when his lips found her neck and his hands: her breasts; she gave in to the sensations he invoked in her, gave up her control, and just let herself feel.

_And it hurts my soul 'cause I can't let go,_

_All these walls are cavin' in, I can't stop my sufferin'._

That was the first time, but it wasn't by all means, the last. 

It was only natural that she'd fantasise about him; sharing their quarters with one another made that almost inevitable. After all, Draco Malfoy was one of the most eligible bachelors and sought after boys in Hogwarts, the object of many a fantasy. She knew her best friends would disagree; that, in a way, she was betraying them by wanting him, yet whenever he touched her, it didn't seem to matter at all.

That was the problem: Draco Malfoy was a brilliant actor and a very skilled lover. With a whisper, he could make her forget reality. Night after night, he came to her, and night after night, she let herself indulge in the guilty pleasures he gave to her.

After a while, her fantasy Draco and the real Draco blended together. Perhaps that was her mistake. She dreamed that she could change him; that he'd learn to love her. She had never been more wrong.

_I hate to show that I've lost control 'cause I,_

_I keep going back to the one thing that I need_

_To walk away from. _

At first she thought that she had control of the relationship; that she'd be able to pull away when things became too much. She never realised that she couldn't bail, that Draco Malfoy didn't take no for an answer, until it was far, far too late.

_I need to get away from ya, _

_Need to walk away from ya,_

_Get away, walk away, walk away…_

"I can't do this anymore, Draco. We graduate tomorrow; I can't keep lying to them like this."

He laughed at her. "Please, Granger, spare me the bullshit. You can't stay away from me, and you know it."

"Draco," she said firmly, "if this is going to carry on, they need to be told the truth."

"What Granger? You want to tell them that you're my fuck-toy? Be my guest."

She was stunned. She meant nothing to him; not a single god damn thing and all this time... A single tear drop slipped down her cheek, followed by another; soon tears streamed down her cheeks and she made no move to brush them away.

"Please, Granger. What were you thinking? You didn't really think that you meant something to me, did you? The idea alone is entirely too laughable."

"I…I…," she stuttered. 

"Speechless, Granger? No witty retort or comeback? My, my, that is rare," he taunted.

She didn't know what to say, she had no idea how to react. For the first time, she realised that it'd all been a game to him, and that the person she had believed Draco Malfoy to be was all in her imagination, and that all he was, was an amazing actor.

"Now, now, Granger, you're a good fuck, really. But let me make it clear: you are nothing more and never will be. No matter what happens in the future, you will always come back to me, whether you want to or not. You're in too deep, Granger, far too deep to consider anything else now."

Before she could reply, he had pulled her towards him and captured her lips in a heated kiss. Within seconds, he had coaxed her body to respond to his caresses, no matter how her mind objected. Again, that night, just as before, Hermione Granger let go and let him do whatever he wanted to her.

_I should have known that I was used for amusement;_

_Couldn't see through the smoke, it was all an illusion._

_Now I've been licking my wounds,_

_But the venom seeps deeper._

_We can both seduce but darlin' you hold me prisoner._

They graduated the next day. Draco said nothing to her, and she said nothing to him; there was nothing to say.

She swore she wouldn't go back, that she'd get on with her life and leave Draco Malfoy within the deep recesses of her memory, along with her other memories of Hogwarts.

At first it wasn't that hard to leave it all untouched: she was surrounded by friends and deeply involved in her work at the Ministry of Magic itself. The Head Girl's position at Hogwarts had practically given her the passport to any job in the Wizarding World she wanted; she chose to work for the Department of Education. The young, beautiful and talented witch did not fail to catch the eyes of many an admirer, and she accepted many of the invitations to dinner.

That was when the trouble started; none of her lovers lasted more than a night. They brought back memories of Draco, yet they could not make her feel what he did; they could be with her all night, yet could never compared to what he could make her feel within minutes.

Then, her friends got married. Harry was the first. He married Luna Lovegood six months out of Hogwarts. Ron was next; he married Parvati four months later. Dean Thomas married Lavender the following June. Neville proposed to Ginny about a month after that, and they were married in November.

By the New Year, Hermione Granger was the only one out of her friends that was not married, except Seamus Finnegan, but even he was in a relationship with Lisa Turpin and was preparing to propose. She was the only one who was all alone.

It was the day of Seamus' wedding that the owl came. The message was simple: a single address: Malfoy Manor. It was then that she realised what she wanted; no, needed: Draco Malfoy.

_Oh, I'm about to break, I can't stop this ache,_

_I'm addicted to your allure, and I'm fiendin' for a cure._

_Every step I take leads to one mistake,_

_I keep goin' back to the one thing that I need…_

She had made her way to Malfoy Manor as soon as the wedding reception had ended. He had answered the door, and she hadn't even had time to glance around before her lips were attacked.

"Couldn't stay away, could you, Granger?" He smirked at her as she clutched to him, moaning his name and begging him to take her. 

He was like a drug, she had decided. There was nothing she could do; nowhere she could go to get away from him. She was, as he had said the night before graduation, in far too deep.

_I can't mend, this torn state I'm in, _

_Getting nothing in return._

_What did I do to deserve the pain of this slow burn,_

_And everywhere I turn I keep goin' right back_

_To the one thing that I need_

_To walk away from._

It carried on happening, against her better judgement, just as it had at Hogwarts: sometimes he came to her and sometimes she found him. However hard she tried to tell herself she didn't need it, didn't want it, when he would turn up in her office, at her flat, in the same store, she would let him lead her away.

At times he would appear when she was in the middle of something: a meeting, a lunch or a conversation; she drop it all, and go with him.

Even when she was with her friends, if he called, she would go.

_I need to get away from ya,_

_Walk away from ya,_

_Get away, walk away, walk away…_

Her friends were worried, she could tell. Last time she'd been playing with Harry and Luna's baby boy, James, her Godson, when she had received an owl from him. She had made a few excuses and left. 

Needless to say, the next time she came around, they bombarded her with questions.

"Hermione, we're so worried about you," Ginny began.

"Yeah, 'Mione, you've been so distant since we got married. Are you sure you're okay?" Harry backed her up. It seemed as if they had scripted out the whole thing. 

After that, it was all out war in the Potter household, as the Potters, Weasleys, Finnegans, Thomases and Longbottoms ploughed on, question after question, query after query.

All through the interrogation Hermione lied. It hurt her and it broke her soul, yet she continued to lie to her closest friends. She knew they'd hate to know what was going on, more than they'd hate her lies; after all, she was their worst enemy's whore.

_Every time I try to grasp for air,_

_I am smothered by despair; it's never over, over._

_Seems I'll never wake from this nightmare,_

_I let out a silent pray,_

_Let it be over, over._

That night, she was at his door again. Even as he made love to her, she felt her soul slowly dieing. She knew it meant nothing to him: just a good fuck, yet she couldn't bring herself to walk away from even this small bit of his much sought after attention. She had fallen in love with the man she hated. And she hated herself even more.

_Inside I'm screaming, begging, pleading no more._

Ever time she went to him, she was ashamed. Every time she went to him, she came back to her friends dirtier than before. Every time she went to him, her soul died, just a little more.

_Now what to do, my heart has been bruised,_

_So sad but it's true, each beat reminds me of you._

On her birthday that year, her friends got together and planned a surprise birthday party in hopes of getting her to cheer up. They had also invited someone whom, they hoped, could finally get her to open up.

"Herm-own-ninny. Happy Birthday," It was Viktor Krum.

"Viktor! What are you doing here?" Hermione, needless to say, was absolutely thrilled to see him. It had been a while since they'd seen each other as, after the fall of Voldemort, the students of Drumstrang had been questioned because of the school's link to the Dark Arts, and they hadn't had much contact since the war had gotten into full swing.

"How have you been, Herm-own-ninny?" After that, the conversation had flowed as though they hadn't spent any time apart at all.

This was something she was sure of. Every since the Triwizard Tournament in her Fourth Year, she and Viktor had written to each other constantly and met up almost every summer. He had always been courteous to her, and she knew he had feelings that went deeper than friendship for her. In this relationship, she could feel safe.

_It hurts my soul 'cause I can't let go,_

_All these walls are cavin' in, I can't stop my sufferin'_

_I hate to show that I've lost control_

_'Cause I keep goin' right back to the one thing that I need…_

Even between her times with Viktor, she went back to Draco. She had no idea why. He seemed to have a hold on her that couldn't be broken. 

When she'd told him of Viktor, he didn't even care. She didn't even know why she'd felt the need to tell him in the first place; he had many other lovers that she had no idea about. Maybe it was because she still lived in some hope that he'd feel something, anything, for her. 

"I'm seeing someone now, Draco."

"So? I'm married."

"This can't go on," she moaned. "I can't keep lying to them like this, Draco. I can't!"

"Remember when you said that last time, Granger? Remember how far it got you? Nowhere, Granger. You cannot break it off with me, and you know it. You are too far gone for anyone to help you," he shouted harshly at her. "And it's not like you're getting married yet, anyway. So what's with the dramatics?"

She had opened her mouth to retort, but it had been lost when his lips found hers. Tears kept flowing until there weren't any tears left to cry, that night, and he never gave a damn.

_I'm about to break, and I can't stop this ache._

_I'm addicted to your allure, and I'm fiendin' for a cure._

_Every step I take leads to one mistake,_

_I keep goin' right back to the one thing that I need…_

It was five months after her birthday that Viktor proposed to her. It seemed to her that the world stopped turning as she stared at the diamond ring, nestled safely in the box in his hand. He'd done the whole romantic dinner and getting down on one knee to propose. She knew she meant something to him. She wanted; no, needed, to be wanted for herself, for once, not just her body.

She had accepted. As the ring slid gracefully onto her finger, she felt the knife of self-loathing dig a little deeper into her soul.

_I can't mend, this torn state I'm in,_

_Getting nothing in return,_

_What did I do to deserve to deserve the pain of this slow burn._

She had told him that night. Told him that Viktor had proposed and that she couldn't; no, that she wouldn't come back to him again; that there was nothing he could do to change her mind.

This time she would leave it all behind.

His reply was the same as ever.

"If you think you can, then do it, Granger. It's not like I care," he smirked his know-it-all smirk. "Stay away as long as you can, Granger. But can you really do it? Can you go back to that happy-go-lucky life that you Gryffindors used to lead? Can you go back to them and pretend that you aren't tainted; tainted by me?"

After that, she had left, and vowed that she wouldn't come back.

_And everywhere I turn I keep going right back_

_To the one thing that I need_

_To walk away from._

She had no idea why she found herself here, at his front door, standing in the pouring rain on the night that was meant to be her wedding night, still in her wedding dress.

She had left Viktor at the altar. She couldn't go through with the wedding. All she could hear was his voice taunting her; telling her that she was tainted, that she was dirty; that she was a whore: HIS whore. She couldn't marry someone who was willing to give her everything when she could give him nothing in return.

That's what made her raise her hand to the grand knocker to knock on the doors of Malfoy Manor.

_I said I need to get away from ya,_

_Need to walk away from ya,_

_Can't take it._

_Walk away, need to walk away._

The House Elf had directed her to his chambers and left without another word. He was on the shower, washing his hair. She closed her eyes, and shut away her soul, stepped out of her wedding dress, and in to join him in the grand bathroom.

"Draco." His name on her lips was her only way of letting him know she was there.

"Something you want, Granger?" He asked casually, back, not at all bothered that she was there, naked, with him on her wedding night.

"Yes, Malfoy," she replied; an echo of the night that had started it all; the night she had let her life go. "You."

_The only thing I need to do_

_Is walk away._

_Yeah, walk away._

**_Finite Incantatum_**

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**A/N:** *blinks* It wasn't meant to turn out like that…*ducks*. Don't kill me!!! PLEASE!!! I'm sorry!! Hmm…maybe I should just change my name to queen of bloody angst…wow…talk about repressed emotions or what!…I wonder where it all comes from? O_o Who knows? *shrugs* Anyway, so there we go, my first piece of non-slash writing…and the first piece that isn't a deathfic, though it well could have been… I had to fight off this irritating urge to have Hermione commit suicide… Yeah, morbid, I know, I'm like that – deal with it! So: good? Bad? Terrible? Bad enough that I should just lay off writing D/Hr forever? Click on the lil' review button down there and let me know what you think. But, as always, no flames please…as those will be used to toast my lil' marshmallows…yumm….Constructive criticism is welcomed, as are any other comments! Let me know what you thing and THANK YOU FOR READING!!

~*Dea*~  


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Harry Potter, Angst, Romance