Author's note: Okay you guys this is the story his touch written from Draco's point of view as you all had requested. Please go read the other one and don't forget to review !
Takes place during the war
…
The war was raging, flashes of crimson left and right, people screaming in agony and warning, giving life and taking life, as if time had stilled as if the world had stopped spinning on its orbit and the only movement, the only existence was of war. He had lost his wand somewhere in the forbidden forest as he had ran from Potter and his Weasel, hiding behind trees and hoping not to get the attention of anyone, on the light or dark side, this was war, it didn't matter, all that mattered was who would be the last digit standing, and it wasn't likely a pawn so invaluable would be allowed to bask in the glory of victory. He had run toward the castle, with swift grace, he knew exactly where he could hide until the war had passed, where he could rock himself back and forth and pretend there was silence and peace amidst this suffering.
He was such a coward, he should be thinking about her, no, he mustn't, he had made his choice, it was his decision to leave her for the dark side, he had chosen his path, there was no use thinking about it any more, but he couldn't help it. He pressed his back against a large stone, large enough to hide him, a piece of the crumbling astronomy tower, the cold hard edges of the rock pressing against his back and his thoughts went back to her. Hermione, he whispered, unable to help himself as a wand pressed firmly against the pulse of his neck and he knew exactly who it was. She took a step back her arm still raised, wand still poised, her lower lip trembling heavily as a cut ran from her left eyebrow down to her jaw in a straight line, bleeding in thick droplets falling into the snow. He unconsciously swayed towards her to comfort her somehow, but she jerked away as if he touch would burn her. He remembered a time when she had readily leaned into his every touch, his every caress, moaning with hunger and greed as he had marked every inch of her body with his.
It felt like a completely different time, when he had first been trapped into a broom closet with her by a bunch of 3rd years and she had looked so beautiful, so angry and flushed that he had not been able to help pressing himself against her slight form, lifting her against a wall an greedily tasting every bit of skin he could reach, and she had let him. Hermione Granger had let Draco Malfoy roughly fuck her against the hard cold wall of the small broom closet where she had cried his name over and over again, starring deeply into his grey orbs with her chocolate depths. Draco blinked, she still stood there, staring at him with the same eyes, still warm, still beautiful, she was still beautiful. He had left her and gotten the mark, he had chosen his family above her, why should she not stand there gazing at him with so much… hatred? No. Disappointment? No, it was sadness, she looked about ready to lower her wand and rush into his arms, and he would let her, they could flee to Hogwarts together, he would kiss away her tears and hold her tight, he would let himself plant wet open mouthed kisses across her throat till she was ready for him to claim her once more. Her face hardened, as if she could hear his thoughts and was disgusted, the grip of her wand tightened and she had a mad glint in her eye. Draco felt a rush of despair and utter terror as he saw her move her arm to cast a spell, he watched with horror filled eyes as she pointed at herself and a flash of green spilled out of the wand. Hermione granger fell to the ground, lifeless, the snow breaking her fall as Draco watched a puddle of blood form between her legs. Hermione Granger had been pregnant. With his child, and now she had killed them both, taking everything Draco never even knew he had.
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