A/N: Firstly and most importantly, I want to thank my beta, Endlesslywaiting, who has, I might add, been endlessly waiting for me to write, edit, re-write, and actually post this darn story. It's been a tough year for me- moving, new job, new place, new roommates, etc etc. Yet, this story (started in September 2010) has helped me through.
Now without further adieu, I give you the first chapter of "The Bloodflye Stone".
Chapter 1- Sighs
She slipped the peach silk nightgown over her body and sighed. Hermione Granger was quite bored with her usual evening routine. First shower, then slip on nightgown, climb into bed and sleep. She sighed again, then plopped onto her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Granted, the room was rather toasty, she knew she'd be frozen by morning. Sleeping alone always left her cold. Crookshanks leapt up and nestled into his usual spot beside her and she began to pet his head— almost immediately he began to purr.
"Well, at least you're enjoying life," she mumbled to her cat. With one final pat, she snuggled down and closed her eyes, ready for the Sandman to do his job.
Unfortunately, the Sandman did not come, for just as she closed her eyes, she heard a peck at her window. Crookshanks hissed at the offending sound but didn't move an inch.
Hermione pushed back the covers with a huff and walked towards the window. There sat a brown barn owl, with a letter in his beak. "Who could that be?" she wondered idly.
She took the note from the bird's mouth and slipped him a treat. He nipped her finger gently and then took flight. Hermione closed the window and opened the note. Scrawled inside was a quick note.
Granger,
Sorry about the timing, but he's here again and causing a raucous. Come get him, eh?
Gordan
Hermione sighed. Gordan was the owner of one of the tavern's he typically frequented. Bustling around her apartment, she quickly pulled on leggings, thick socks, and a hooded sweatshirt. She then wrapped a wool scarf around her neck and pulled a baker-boy cap onto her head. Bending down, she pulled on her warm furry boots. Lastly, she buttoned her coat and tucked her wand safely inside her pocket. She opened her door and immediately shivered as the London winter air bit into her.
"I'm going to kill that bloody wanker," she mumbled to herself. Keeping her head tucked down to avoid the wind, Hermione walked down the street. When she arrived at the corner, she gave a quick look around and pulled out her wand, apparating with a pop.
With a blink of her brown eyes, Hermione was standing outside the pub—in a slushy puddle. She growled to herself, already in a foul mood because of him. Now, her feet were wet and cold. Moving to a drier spot on the sidewalk, she quickly muttered a cleaning spell.
Hermione peered in the window, her warm breath fogging the glass up slightly. Her eyes searched for the platinum blonde hair, the expensive black coat, even a sliver of emerald green. Finally, her eyes found exactly what she was looking for—only not.
At the end of the bar, barely able to keep his head up, sat Draco Malfoy. He was doing his best to woo a little brunette. She was pretty enough, she supposed, with straight brown hair, green eyes, and what looked like quite expensive robes. Hermione cringed inwardly when his fingers reached out to graze her jaw line. The rage began to boil when she saw his face dip towards the girls, as though they were going to kiss. Her eyes bulged a bit however when his head continued to fall deeper and deeper, until it seemed, he had passed out- in the poor girls cleavage.
The girl immediately began to scream and Hermione watched as Gordon walked around the bar and pulled Draco off of her and yanked him towards the door. Swinging the door open, she heard Gordon mutter something along lines of, "Don't come back until you've learned to handle your liquor." And before she knew it, Gordon had tossed Draco out onto the dirty, wet streets of London.
Draco went down, rather unceremoniously, into a large puddle. Lifting his head up, he saw someone's boots, then grey leggings, then a bright red coat. He knew that red coat. Hell, he knew those boots.
"Granger", he drawled. "What the fuck are youuu doing 'er?" He continued to lay in the puddle, his expensive black coat soaking up the dirty water.
She growled, "Oh for Merlin's sake, get the hell out of the puddle!"
Slowly, Draco began to stand up, swaying to one side and then the other. He grabbed a hold of her shoulder to steady himself, only to fall rather easily into her chest. He smiled to himself, inhaling her scent. She smelled like oranges and sunshine- if that was even possible.
Hermione wrestled him up, standing him up on his feet. She casted another cleaning spell and he found he was quite dry and clean.
"Sthanks," he slurred, his head dipping down low then coming back up.
"Don't mention it." She replied. "Come on, let's get you home."
He wrapped his arm around her waist and again, was reminded of how terribly perfect she was. With a pop, they apparated back to the corner of her flat.
With his arm still around her waist, she slowly walked him to the door of her flat. His feet shuffled and he mumbled as he walked, not quite coherent. His mumbling however became coherent when he started to shout.
"Why didn't we just apparate to my flat?" He exclaimed, his sudden mood swing making Hermione's head spin.
Struggling with his weight, she pulled him closer. "Because you fool, I don't know what types of wards you have and you're not in a right state to help me."
He grumbled, "I'm cold." As if to further his point, he shivered and pulled her closer, "Why didn't we just apparate into your flat."
She smiled slightly, annoyed that his whining was somehow adding to the attraction. "Because you fool, I do know my wards. And they don't allow anyone to apparate into my home."
He stopped in his tracks and whipped his head to her. "Whaaa?" he slurred, his brow furrowed.
Hermione giggled and tapped him on the nose, "safety first!"
Draco shook his head but let her lead him to her flat all the same. When they arrived at her red door, Draco took a deep breath. It'd been a very long time since he'd been on this door step. A long time since he'd felt her warm body pressed against him. He pulled her tighter, inhaling her scent once more, but loosened his hold when he felt her stiffen.
"Sorry," he grunted.
"S'okay," she answered, pulling out her key and opening the door. They stumbled inside and she moved to take his coat.
"Easy there Granger, there's noooo need to get meeee naked so quickly," Draco told her, with a smug drunken smirk on his lips.
She huffed and pulled his coat from his arms. "Don't be thick. You know where the bathroom is if you need it. There's a blanket on the back of the couch. Goodnight Draco."
Hermione spun around, ready to make her escape when his arm caught hers.
"Wait."
Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning around to face him. "What?"
Draco took a small step forward, closing the gap between them. His hands grazed up her arms, squeezing her small biceps, then resting at her neck. His breathing was deep, as was her's. Draco's eyelids were heavy, as if he could barely keep his eyes open.
When Draco didn't say anything, Hermione's hands reached up to his and removed them from her neck.
"Go to sleep Draco. You'll feel better in the morning." She gave his hand a squeeze and turned, walking to her bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she slid down the wood panel into a heap on the floor, hugging herself. Casting a silencing charm, so that he wouldn't hear her, she began to cry.
When the door slammed closed, Draco knew he'd fucked up. He growled to himself and haphazardly made his way to her bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he made his way to the toilet. After completing his business, he shuffled to the sink. He washed his hands and then splashed some water on his face. He grabbed the hand towel, patting his face dry and then immediately regretting his decision to look in the mirror.
Draco Malfoy was indeed, quite handsome. With platinum blonde hair, eyes the colour of silver and a jaw line that would make most models jealous, he knew he could have almost any woman of his choosing. Unfortunately for him, Draco also knew that the woman he wanted would never have him. It was his own damn fault, really. If he had never gone to that blasted wedding, he'd never have seen her. He'd never have fallen in love. He'd never have broken her heart— which in turn, had broken his.
He tossed the hand towel in the hamper and struggled to make his way back to the couch. When he passed her door, he couldn't hear anything. His first thought was that she was asleep. His second was that she cast a silencing charm. He plopped down on the couch and sighed. Yanking his shirt over his head and casting it off to the side, he allowed himself a moment to think aloud.
"If she hated me, she wouldn't have come to pick me up, right?" Pausing, he came up with his own answer. "Yes, she would have. It's Granger. But does it mean anything? Ugh, bloody hell." Annoyed at having a conversation with himself, he slapped the pillow on the couch. "I should just go talk to her."
With a curt nod to no one but himself, he lifted himself off the couch and staggered to her door, sobriety not having fully kicked in yet. He knocked on the door and prayed she could hear him.
"Granger," he banged on the door. "Granger. We need to talk!"
Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffled. She'd released the silencing charm when he was in the bathroom, thinking that he'd just go straight to sleep. Yet, he hadn't and she had heard his entire conversation—with himself.
"Go away Draco. I don't want to talk," she yelled through the door.
Draco growled at her behaviour, "Stop being a child and answer the fucking door."
Hermione thought for a moment before standing up from her spot on the floor. She cracked the door open, "You have sixty seconds. Better make it good." Her eyes drifted down to his naked chest and immediately a blush graced her cheeks.
Draco's eyes narrowed, "Come now Granger. Can't we be adults about this, please?"
Hermione guffawed, "Adults? Are you kidding me? Fuck you." She went to slam the door in his face, but Draco had slipped his foot in-between the door and the frame.
His face lit up with pain and Draco yelped, "Fuck!" He reached down to grab his foot.
Immediately, Hermione opened the door wide and went to his aide. "Oh Draco, I'm so sorry!"
Hopping around on one foot, Draco made his way into her room and sat on her bed heavily. "Urg! Merlin that hurts!"
Her eyes were wide, "Did I break it?"
Slowly, Draco flexed his foot and replied angrily, "I don't think so. But it's gonna bruise. Thanks Granger."
Hermione narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms at her chest. "Don't mention it. Now, get out of my room."
Again, Draco found himself sighing. Why wouldn't she just listen to me, he thought to himself. Slowly and painfully, he stood up. "I just wanted to…" He trailed off pathetically.
Huffing, Hermione prodded him, "You just wanted to what?"
Draco shook his head, "Nothing. Never mind. I'm going to bed." Walking towards the door, he turned around one last time and saw she had her back to him.
"Whatever," Hermione grumbled to herself. She pulled the leggings down her legs and yanked the sweatshirt from her torso, leaving herself in the peach nightgown again.
Draco's eyes bulged wide. He knew that nightgown, very well in fact, for he had bought it for her.
"Glad you're still receiving enjoyment from the gifts I bought you," he jibed.
Hermione whipped around, unaware that he was still in her room. Angry and embarrassed, she screamed, "I told you to get the fuck out of my room. Now, get out!" She pushed him, full force, out of the doorway of her room. He landed, quite gracefully, on the couch.
With that, she slammed the door shut and locked it. She picked up the closest thing she could find and hurled it at the wall. The vase of flowers shattered into a million pieces. Breathing heavily and realizing what she just did, she growled in frustration. "Why do I let him get under my skin?" she thought angrily to herself.
She pointed her wand at the vase, "Reparo".
She put the flowers in the vase and set it back on the dresser. Feeling slightly better, she climbed into her bed and looked at the clock. Three am. She closed her heavy, tired eyes and began to sleep.
Draco was however, pacing in her living room. Angry and upset, he knew he wouldn't sleep for a while. He contemplated going home, but didn't want to brave the cold again. Thinking of the cold made him shiver and he picked up his wand. He walked closer to the fireplace and pointed at it.
"Incendio," he muttered.
The logs were ablaze immediately and warmth began to fill the room. He rested his arm on the mantle and began to look around. Moving pictures surrounded him. There was a picture of the Golden Trio, smiling happily at the camera. Another picture was of her and the Weasels, Hermione's smile was the happiest of them all. Draco knew that the Weasley's were family to her, and with time, he'd had even come to accept it. The next photo was of Hermione and Potter with a baby. The baby's hair was rapidly changing colours from green to purple to pink to blue. Draco knew the baby was Teddy, Hermione's godson. Next was a photo of a red head in a white dress and a handsome Slytherin boy that Draco knew quite well.
When Blaise Zabini told Draco that he was going to marry Ginny Weasley, Draco was lost in a fit of hysterics. But Blaise was quite serious about his statement and one year later, he married the little Weasel. It was their wedding that started it all, but despite everything, Draco was truly happy for them.
The last photo didn't move. There stood Hermione, in between two very proud and happy people. The photo was taken on the beach- in Australia if Draco remembered correctly. He knew that she had altered her parent's memories so that they would forget her and keep them out of danger. After the war, she had gone to Australia and replaced their memories. She stayed for a while, wanting to escape from the media and relax. Honestly, Draco thought the holiday had done her some good. Her skin had a healthy glow and it was dotted with freckles. Her eyes were brighter and she smiled more, even laughed. And her laugh was heavenly to Draco.
Draco rested his head on his arm and sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He wondered if Hermione knew the reason why Draco drank. He wondered if Hermione knew or even cared to know the real reason why he left her in the first place. But more importantly, he wondered if she would ever forgive him. Quietly, he padded to the couch and sprawled out on it, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch onto him. The fire had died down, giving a soft glow in the small room. With one last sigh, he passed out.
A/N: Thank you for reading. I'd appreciate it greatly if you left me a comment/ review. Tell me what you think so far. I have chapters 1-5 already completed, so I'll update regularly.