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Hate Me by Azusena
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Hate Me

Azusena

Hate Me

A/N: I really hope you guys like this, it's one of my favorites! Thanks so much to my beta Trutonks for all her help!!!

He continued kissing her, even though it made him sick. He touched her, pretending not to notice the heart broken witch that had just walked in on them. He turned back to the whore in front of him and pushed her farther up against the wall, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Damn I should do this more often," he murmured, just loud enough for Hermione to hear. She ran, as he knew she would, then he pushed the girl off of him. He didn't know her name or anything about her. He didn't want to know.

The woman tried to kiss him again, but he pushed her away again, shoving a couple galleons into her hands.

"Get the hell away from me," he said, watching her quickly stuff the coins into her too tight blouse as she left.

He immediately shut the door to the head boy's room and turned on the shower as hot as it would go. He didn't care if it burned, he felt he deserved it for hurting her; at least she would be safe.

He tore off his clothes and threw them in the fire, trying to get every trace of the other woman off of him, and then jumped into the shower, hissing as the water burned his skin. He gritted his teeth and forcefully scrubbed his whole body. He felt so dirty for doing this to her - she didn't deserve this.

He almost wished that they had never met, then she wouldn't be the same person and neither would he. She wouldn't have fallen in love with him and he with her, they would have never even have been friends, best friends. `It would have been better that way,' he thought, but he couldn't change the past, and a part of him didn't want to.

He thought of the saying, `Better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all,' and let out a harsh laugh. He had never disagreed with it more than right now. It was alright for him, he knew the truth and he knew she'd be safe, but Hermione probably wished she had never met him, never kissed him, never made love to him all those nights ago. He couldn't blame her, what he had done was awful, but he didn't regret it, not yet anyway, but then again, he still had something left to do.

He buried his face in his hands and all he could picture was her crying, her crying for him. He hoped that she would eventually forget him and get on with her life.

He turned off the steaming shower and grabbed a fluffy maroon towel from the rack. He dried himself off the best he could and then left the towel on the floor of the bathroom. He then went back into his room, shivering as the air hit his aching skin. He grabbed a pair of black pants and a grey t-shirt and put them on quickly and went down the head boy and head girl's personal common room.

He walked out of the room quickly, hoping to avoid everyone as he headed through the portrait. No such luck, however, because as soon as he walked out he saw Ron right in front of him. He pulled his arm back and soon all Harry felt was intense pain. He didn't even try to block the next punch. He deserved it with all the pain he put Hermione through.

The next punch landed on his right eye, smashing his glasses. Harry screamed in pain as the glass shards imbedded themselves around his eye. He looked up to see Hermione's pain filled face staring down at him, and then all went black.

He woke up the next day and learned from Madam Pomfrey that she had to put him to sleep to remove the pieces of glass from his eye. He grimaced and touched his right eye making sure it was still whole. Satisfied, he sat up, and then them memory of last night came back crashing back on him, and his shoulders visibly sagged.

"Can I leave?" he asked politely. Madam Pomfrey nodded and he left. He met Hermione in the hall and quickly took in the relieved expression on her face.

He sighed and wiped all his emotions off his face. When he looked up at her, she saw eyes not unlike those of Draco Malfoy, cold and calculating as if she weren't even fit to wipe his boots.

"What do you want?" he asked harshly, "I would think you seeing me with that whore would give you a clue."

She gasped and her eyes filled with tears.

He longed to tell her the truth, but he couldn't. "What? You thought I loved you or cared about you?" he asked. "What a joke, I just figured you'd be fun to play with for a while."

A sob ripped from her throat, but she made no move to cover her face. "This isn't you Harry what's wrong? Who are you?"

"Oh, it is me," Harry replied, struggling to keep his face blank, "I just got tired of dealing with such a bossy know-it-all. Get away from me and go back to that hole you came out of."

She ran again just like before. Harry knew she would figure out what he did, but not for a while, not until she had gotten over what he had said to her. Not until she had gotten over her heartache and he would be gone by then, long gone. It was for the best…


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