Every day with Hermione felt like falling asleep under the sun; easy, welcoming. The first time I told her I loved her, she slapped me. Typical really, all I ever did was try to get the woman's attention. I'll admit, not always in the best way. I remember that day clearly. I'd often go to watch her in the library, she seemed so peaceful with her tomes. This time was different, I couldn't find her. I'd circled around her usual spot trying to remain inconspicuous, I'd walked right in the heart of the library, peered through bookshelves and even wandered into the restricted section. It was after class hours, she was there most days and always Fridays. I had decided to head back to her usual spot, one more look couldn't hurt. I rounded the corner of an over-packed bookcase, about to dash down the next aisle in case I had missed her when I collided with a petite object.
"Shit, watch where you're going Malfoy" she spat.
"Maybe if you didn't have your nose in that book you'd have noticed me, Granger" curse that wasn't what I meant to say. 'Sorry' I tried to mutter but to no prevail, my pride governing my tongue. That was when she poked me in my chest, the pad of her fingertip searing through my shirt. She pressed her finger in to me for a second too long, I stared down in awe, she had never kept contact with me for this long. Hell, maybe it was just a fingertip but it was her fingertip. She must have seen me staring and mistaken it for hatred because she retracted her finger rapidly. Reminding me how fleeting that moment really was.
"Well, what do you say Malfoy?" she probed. Had she been speaking? I hadn't heard, all my attention had gone to her tiny, perfect hands. 'Sorry' I tried to mutter again. 'I love you'.
"Excuse me?" she exclaimed. Wait, had I said that out loud?
"I, love you" I say to her shoes, my eyes fixed to the ground. My tongue is betraying me again and suddenly I've lost my nerve.
"I beg your pardon?" she said, then her palm met my cheek, quickly staining my skin in the most beautiful heat. Admittedly, I probably shouldn't have moved in for a kiss.
She avoided me like it was a ritual after that, probably dismissed it as some sick joke I was playing on her where she lacked the punch line. I didn't make contact with her again till the war. Merlin she was beautiful in the war. Well, she always was but it was like it had awoken her soul, she glowed with magic. By far the Order's most powerful witch, she threatened the likes of my Aunt Bella, and that is saying a lot. It was the night we raided Hogwarts, I was always part of the big raids. I'm ashamed to say I was Voldemort's favourite, envied by many of my peers. I could never understand why considering my father's failures, maybe he saw potential in me. I'd have given it up if it was that simple but life never is. If The Dark Lord knew about this night, he'd have made sure himself that I had died.
I stumbled down a dark, narrow corridor. That last hex had nearly hit me, fucking Weasleprick. I'd heard Granger's voice in the distance and he'd caught me off guard. Well, it didn't matter now I was already running towards the sound of her voice. Spells ready to fly off of my tongue in an instant if I needed to. All that mattered was finding her. I pulled my mask down over my face and snuck into a wrecked classroom where I thought her voice had originated from, it was full of empty stretchers. No luck. Another piercing cry came from behind me; Hermione. I jolted out the door, and down through an archway. It was painfully dark, summoning a silent spell, my wand smouldered dimly, highlighting a room at the end of the short corridor.
She was trapped at a dead end and she was in pain. I don't know which affected me more the pain in my chest because I knew I hadn't protected her or the rage bubbling, deep in my stomach. I killed the light of my wand, adjusting as best as I could to the shadows. I could make out two silhouettes in the room, covertly as possible I moved in to get a better look. I could hear her unsteady breathing and my breath began to catch in my throat. I see her, she's wandless but still full of that stunning pride she always wore so well but she's clearly weak and shit, is that blood? The top of her right thigh was stained with her untainted blood, contrasting in the darkness with her pale jeans. Neither of them had noticed me yet, she was stalling him, trying to bide her time probably hoping Pothead or Weasleprick would swoop in and save her, well not today. Today was my day. I came up behind my fellow death eater as they raised their wand towards her head. I'm sure a torture curse had been dancing on their tongue but before they could utter a single word I whispered a spell into their ear. Their limp body had crumbled to the cold ground, pooling at my feet. I looked up to see her eyes were locked on me, her mouth opened to speak but I hit her with a sleeping charm before she could. Just as her legs began to fall beneath her, I grabbed her and settled my arm around her waist catching her weight. Before anything else could have happened I apparated away.
We arrived in my room at my Manor House, I'm sure the last place she wanted to be but I had lifted her onto my bed nonetheless. I began to tend to her leg wound, removing her jeans to closer examine the damage. A misfired hex had caught her thigh, inflaming the skin around the deep burn that was causing her skin to peel, nothing compared to what the original damage had intended to do. I quickly moved into my bathroom, rummaging through a cupboard, recklessly collecting items I thought could be of any help. Slamming the cupboard door, my arms had been unsteady with amount I was carrying, I headed back into my room. She wasn't on the bed anymore, she was standing up looking directly at me, her eyes boring into mine. She was shaking uncontrollably, immediately I raise my hands up dropping everything in the process. The clatter of the items hitting the ground had pierced through the silence. My eyes travel to the wound on her thigh, which was dripping blood onto my hard floor. She must have followed my gaze because her energy changed, her pride washed away in waves of embarrassment and uncertainty. Her eyes welled up and it took everything in me not to wrap my arms around her then and there but that's not who we were, that was not acceptable.
"Granger, I, I" but words failed me. I tried to bare my soul through my eyes but she broke away before I could show her. Her eyes darting around the room, assessing the location.
"Where am I?" she spoke coldly.
"My room, Second Floor, at my Manor House in Wiltshire" she needed directness, that's all I could have given her. "I, I saved you" The words tumble out of my mouth like eggs rolling off a counter top.
"I know" she whispered before she whimpered, her right leg buckling under the pain. I take a step forward, she doesn't flinch so I move closer and catch her before she falls in on herself. We sit there on the floor in silence for what seems like eternity, I cradle her like a child and summon a soothing paste that I dropped earlier. I catch her staring at me and we lock eyes as I smooth the paste delicately around her wound. Her eyes close and her brow knots.
"I know it hurts but it's nearly covered now, just hang on a second longer Hermione" I tell her and she listens. "It's over now, you are so brave" I test my luck, I press a kiss to her forehead, her skin felt unbelievable against my chapped lips. As I shift backwards her eyes have opened up to me again.
"Why?" she asked me, her eyes still locked on mine.
"You know why" she raised her hand towards me and I silently curse myself for flinching, she stopped just before my face and assessed me with her eyes. Her fingers drifted lightly over my lips, like she wasn't sure if I was real. Then she leaned in to me and softly placed her lips on mine.
"Thankyou" she says against my lips, and I hold her against me. "We need to get back to Hogwarts"
"Two more minutes, please" I beg.
For two years I dreamt about that kiss, I touched myself in the shower and I lost my concentration many times around Voldemort. His rage was uncontrollable and he was beginning to suspect that I lacked what he so deeply wanted to see in me. I tried to care, I'm not proud of it but I tried to play the game, I mean, that's all I was to him, a pawn. Yet none of it resonated with me, my whole body breathed for Hermione, that's why I hung on. I clung to some half thought out idea that we might cross paths again. That witch had ruined me, and I'd let her. I'd let her a thousand times over if it meant I could relive that moment. For all I knew she had become another causality of the war, so many lives lost, so much bloodshed and all for what? Some man's vendetta against a child? I'd grown very tired of it all. I had begun to revert into myself that was until she turned up on the doorstep of my flat 11 months and 29 day ago.
She had lost her glow, I never asked why, I don't even know how she found my flat. I was already sucked into her enigmatic mind games, she led me by my hand into my own bedroom. I almost convinced myself at one point it must have been a dream until we got to my room and she pushed me against the nearby wall, her lips pressed against mine. There wasn't time to talk, I understood the urgency in her touch because it flowed out of me too. She scrambled with the buttons on my shirt, her small fingers fumbling together as I knitted my fingers through her hair to bring her closer to me, all the while our lips crashing together. I stepped back in order to pull her top over her head and then took her to the edge of my bed, I pushed her onto her back and began to undo her pants. My finger got caught in her belt buckle between the rushes of our touches. We shared a look and a smile as we silently agreed to slow down before one of us blew a fuse. There was a crash of items around us, our eyes darted quickly to the noise. In the intense moment of our actions our intertwined magic had ignited around us, causing a commotion of inanimate objects, whirling and spinning towards the high ceiling. I had never experienced a moment so powerful in all my life. I was brought of out my thoughts by Hermione's lips lightly pressing against each pad of my fingers. As her gaze travelled up to mine she parted her lips and took my thumb into her mouth. The red pout of her lips looked so appetising against my pale flesh. I couldn't hold back the groan that trembled through me at the sight of her display. Her smile turned into a smirk as she drew herself away from my hand, journeying her own hands down over her smooth stomach and reaching her pants. All I could do was watch as she undressed herself before me, exposing her thighs first then down to her ankles. I knelt before her form and trailed small kisses up her calf. As I reached her knee she parted her thighs for me, highlighting the scar of a wound I once healed for her. Her heat was evident and I needed her. I chanced a look up at her and her brown eyes were locked on me, waiting for my next move. I drew my hands up her thighs and around to her hips so I could hook my fingers under the hem of her knickers to pull them down to her feet. This moment would not be fleeting, I made sure of that, I had waited my entire adult life for this moment and most of my youth, and she would be mine. Her flesh erupted into goose bumps beneath my touch as I began and she fell apart.
I awoke the next morning to her stray curls dancing along my arm where my dark mark lingered like grey clouds before a storm. The rush of emotion hit me harder than the feeling of having her come undone above me. I just couldn't quite grasp the reality of it all, so I watched her steady breathing until my mind stopped thinking. That morning when she spoke, she uttered three words I could never have been prepared for.
"I have cancer".
My mind had gone blank. I might have been brought up to be a pure blooded prick but I fucking know what cancer is and everything it entailed. I never replied to her, I don't think I needed to because that's what we did, we spoke with our eyes and I think she I understood. So when I pulled her into my chest that's why she never mentioned my muffled tears into her hair. I sit here now at her bedside. None of her family ever visit and she never tells me why so I stopped asking. Potter and Weasley don't know, she said they'd already seen too much death. She told me it was better that way although I was sure she was speaking to herself when she said it. So I begin reading to her, I know how to takes her mind off the illness draining her. I hear the door being opened but I don't look up or stop reading.
"Mr Malfoy" a nurse interrupts me as I reach the end of the first line. "Hermione is very sick and I think…" she carried on but I motion for her to stop as I place the book down and lead her into the hall. I wait till the door closes completely and turn to the nurse.
"You think I'm not aware?" I reply bluntly, not caring about her point. My eyes darting back to room.
"I think she needs time to rest Mr Malfoy, I mean no disrespect to you but you look like you could do with some rest too. When was the last time you slept?"
"That's frankly none of your business, nurse…" my eyes search for a name badge "Matthews. I'm not leaving so if you have anything else to say, I think you should hurry up". She opens her mouth and closes it again. "I thought as much", I say as I leave her in the hall and pull the door open to Hermione's room. Her eyes are glassy as she searches for my own, I smile when her eyes reach mine. "Sorry about that, where were we? Oh yes". I pick up our book and sit next to her and begin reading. Before I know it I'm rubbing the drool off my cheek as my eyes dart to the digital clock on the nightstand, '5:32am'. The green LED lights are burning into my retinas through the darkness. I sit up and place our book lying in my lap onto the floor then take Hermione's hand in my own. Her hand is so cold against mine as I gently rub my thumb over the back of hers when reality dawns on me. I quickly move my fingers to try to find her pulse, "Hermione, my love".
"Wake up sweet. Please, I'm right here" my hands start to tremble as I reach for the button above her bed, but something tells me I'm too late. "Please love, you can't leave me here alone" I beg, "Two more minutes, please". I scramble with the pocket inside of my jacket and pull out a small, circular box. "I was waiting till our anniversary, we talked about it remember. You said you'd make it, you promised. See, I had this big surprise planned". Tears begin to violently roll down my cheeks yet I'm not sobbing, the box falls to the floor clattering as I tried to open it. I quickly pick it back up, opening it and pulling the ring free. I take her hand and push the ring on, "It's not too late, see 'Mione?". I accio the pain relief medicine from the cabinet. I remove the small piece of parchment that I'd placed inside the box and place it into her hand, closing her fingers over it. I drink down the bottle before I wrap my hand around hers and let sleep overcome me in a soft haze.
I wake up with a spluttering cough, gasping for air. My vision is blurred and I can just about make out the street lamp shining through the window. I hear my stomach groan and it makes me retch. I pull my hand away to rub the fog out of my eyes. I notice a piece of parchment on the bed and begin to read it softly to myself in the dim light. The words magically appear on the page as if just written, 'Hermione Granger, the love of my life. I am yours forever, you have stolen my heart and soul yet I do not wish for them back. Yours, for eternity, Draco Malfoy'.
My left hand feels heavy and I can see something glistening out of focus.
"Draco, wake up" I call to him.