A.N. One shot!! Just a little something that I had an idea for and sat down and wrote one cold and rainy afternoon. Hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fiction, and I am not making any profit on this story (unfortunately)
He walked slowly down the road, trying to understand. How could he have done that? How could any person have done that? He span round on his heel and ran back down the road the way that he came; faster, faster he pushed himself, trying almost to rewind time as he ran. Recognizing where he was, he turned into the small alleyway and breathing hard now, scanned the dank and dark concrete. Bins and rubbish bags lined the sides of the alleyway and made it hard for him to see anything, but after a minute he did indeed see what he was looking for.
One pale leg extended out slightly from a pile of black bin bags, bruised, muddy and shoeless. Oddly, irrationally it was this fact that brought a little pang to his chest; a chest that he had thought was unable to feel such pangs any more.
"Granger?"
There was no answer, not even a slight movement to signify comprehension or even life. Moving slowly closer to where he knew she lay against the cold, damp brick wall of the building, Draco Malfoy peered around the rubbish bags. She was crumpled in a small defenceless heap up against the wall, pale apart from the trickle of blood down her temple. Her face… her poor face was battered almost beyond recognition. Her eyes were puffed and swollen with the beginnings of two spectacular black eyes; her nose was bleeding, and almost certainly broken. There was a long cut across one cheekbone, and Draco winced when he saw the clear imprint on her face left by a class ring smashing into her cheek.
The most concerning thing however was the large lump raised on her temple, that was obviously the cause of her current unconscious state. Cursing himself, Draco cautiously stepped closer, and when it was obvious that she wasn't going to wake up any time soon, he picked her up and Apparated to his house.
They say that when you're in shock you don't think logically, and that was certainly the case for Draco, or he would certainly have taken Hermione to St Mungo's where people qualified to deal with her injuries could have taken over. He didn't do this, and instead was then forced into the situation of having to deal with her himself. Luckily for her, he was well versed in dealing with the fallout of severe beatings; when you'd lived his life, how could you not.
Deciding that for the moment, he was better off if she was unconscious, Draco quickly healed the head wound and forced a large amount of Dreamless Sleeping Potion down Hermione's unresisting throat. Cursing himself alternately for a fool and an uncaring bastard, Draco wondered how precisely he had gotten himself into this situation…
FLASHBACK
After a particularly heavy night's drinking, Draco had awakened with a god-awful headache, lingering nausea and a slight curiosity as to where the hell he was. His own room had never been decorated this particularly vomit-inducing shade of cerise, he was quite certain. The most important question then became, if this wasn't his room, then who's precisely was it? This question wasn't answered when he rolled over and came nose-to-nose with a naked, skinny blonde girl who was sprawled carelessly across the bed.
'Damn, I really have to stop doing this,' Draco thought to himself, 'This gets me nowhere.'
Rolling out of the bed in a swift practised motion that didn't wake the sleeping girl, Draco went about collecting his haphazardly strewn clothes up from the floor. Looking at his watch, Draco was shocked to notice that it was in fact, four a.m., not p.m. as he had previously supposed. Shrugging, he continued to dress, and as silently as possible, let himself out of the girl's apartment, and out of the building onto the street. Walking quickly with his head down, Draco soon emerged into a part of London that he knew well.
It wasn't far to his own apartment, so Draco decided to walk rather than try and find a cab at this time of the morning, which he knew to be more difficult than trying to make a philosopher's stone. Making a snap decision, he decided to cut through one of the rougher areas of town; after all, it wasn't like he was undefended, he thought, reaching into his pocket to grasp his wand.
It was this snap decision that was to lead to his ultimate downfall. 'Why couldn't I have walked that little bit further?' Draco thought with a slight bitter hint to his words. 'I didn't ask for this.'
He hadn't even walked two hundred yards when he'd heard the shouting; it was coming from an alleyway down the other side of the road. Draco heard a slapping sound, and a woman's sharp cry; his heart sank inside his chest, now came the awkward moment. Do you stop and try and be the hero, or do you walk on and pretend that you never saw anything? As he walked further down the street, he came level with the alleyway and risked a glance down it. What he saw froze his heart and turned his muscles to stone. The Mudblood Granger was stood with one hand clasped to her face, and her other arm raised in a defensive position as she huddled into the wall, crouched trying to protect her body as some man that Draco didn't know shouted at her and raised his arm to swing once again.
During one hellish split-second Draco was swamped with indecision. On one hand, this was HER, the same person that he hated beyond all reasonable belief, who'd made his life hell, and surely deserved everything that was coming to her. On the other hand, it was HER, who'd always fought for what she believed in, with a backbone of steel, the most admirable girl that he'd ever met, and that had accepted him without question when he had fought with her. He hated her. He didn't hate her. He hated her.
Draco walked on.
END FLASHBACK
Did it matter that for two minutes he had walked past? Did it matter that he had made the decision to leave her, when he had, in the end, gone back and done what was right?
Draco sighed; it had been so much easier when all that he knew was what his father had taught him. Being evil was so much easier than this. Black and white was always manageable; it was shades of grey that drove a person mad.
No matter now, what was done was done, and nobody could change that now. He would know for the rest of his life that for two minutes he had been able to walk away from someone he knew when they needed him the most. He also would know that if the positions had been reversed, she wouldn't have even hesitated before rushing in to save him. When did life get so complicated, he wondered, whilst gently dabbing her cheek with salt-water, getting the dirt out of the cut.
Glancing up at her face, he was startled to see that her brown eyes were wide open and focused on his face.
"You're supposed to be asleep." He said, incredulous, "Why aren't you asleep?"
"Tolerant." She replied, even though it was obviously painful for her to speak; the man had broken her jaw.
Draco just looked at her; Granger was addicted to DSP; there's something you don't hear every day. Apparently the war had been hard on everybody, not just those who had switched sides.
"Who was he Granger?" He asked gently. "Actually, don't talk, wait for a while, until you're fixed and then you can tell me everything."
She nodded, and then looked at him expectantly.
He continued cleaning out her wounds, impressed as she didn't even wince; although the pain must be nigh on unbearable considering. So much damage, so much destruction. Seemed to be almost the story of their lives.
"The healing spells work better if the wounds are clean to begin with; less scarring in the end. He really did a number on you, you know."
Her eyes slammed shut, and squeezed together, as he dabbed a particularly deep part of the cut.
"Sorry, but it had to be done."
She nodded in understanding, and remained silent as he finished cleaning the wounds and began to heal them, passing the glowing tip of his wand slowly over the damaged parts of her face. The end glowed red as it passed an area of damage and Draco paused there until it glowed blue again, and then moved on. It took longest for her jaw to heal, but eventually everything was fixed; Draco quickly ran his wand across her face again, just to check that everything was fine, and then stood, stretching out his back, and grimacing as it cracked.
"Thanks." Hermione said in a somewhat croaky voice as she got up, and moved slowly and stiffly across the carpet towards the door, limping slightly on one ankle.
"Where are you going?" Draco asked, in a confused tone.
"I… Um… Harry's probably. He won't mind if I turn up this late; he never does. Besides, you've done most of the work for him anyway. Thanks Malfoy, I really do appreciate this."
As if that was a dismissal, Hermione gingerly stretched out her arm, and opened the door, but before she could step through it, Draco stopped her.
"Don't you think that you owe me an explanation? After all, I did save your life."
"He would have come back for me eventually, he always…"
Hermione stopped, suddenly aware that she may have revealed more than she had intended to.
"He always does? How many times has HE, whoever HE is, done this to you?" Draco was suddenly filled with irrational, righteous rage… How DARE someone do this to her, let alone someone she knew, let alone more than once!
"He doesn't mean to you know, it's just that I make him mad, and then he loses control. He loves me, and he doesn't want to hurt me, it's my fault, I shouldn't do the things that I do." Draco was dumbfounded. What had happened to the Granger that he knew? What had happened to her friends that they would let this happen to her? This was ridiculous.
"Who is he?"
"His name is James; he's my fiancé, we're going to be married in two months."
"If he doesn't kill you first?!" Draco exploded, "What are you thinking Granger!"
"What do you care anyway? Just let me go!"
"NO! Not until you tell me everything… I deserve to know. Besides, I saved your life; you owe me a Wizard's Debt."
"Are you calling it? If I tell you everything you want to know then we're even again?"
Draco nodded.
"Fine." Hermione sat down in the armchair that she had been occupying previously; she knew that wizarding debts were unbreakable, and that she would be bound to Malfoy until she repaid it. If this was what he wanted then she'd tell him; it was a very easy way out of her debt.
"What do you want to know then?"
"Slow down Granger; this isn't an interrogation, are you comfortable, do you want anything?"
"I'm fine." She said curtly.
"Yeah, whatever… I'll be back in a minute." True to his word, it was only a minute until he returned, with a large bundle of blankets and pillows under one arm, and a tray with biscuits, a teapot, and some soft drinks on it. Dropping the bundle of blankets, Draco placed the tray of food and drink on the coffee table, and turned to Hermione, holding out a large, worn t-shirt, a pair of boxers and a pair of joggers.
"Here; I thought that you might want to get out of those dirty clothes."
Hermione looked down at herself; at her torn and stained jeans, and her filthy shirt. "Yeah, that would be nice, thanks Malfoy."
"They're not new, but they're clean." He assured her, but she just nodded, and completely without shame, she stripped off her sweater. Draco span around so that his back was to her, cheeks burning; and then almost as quickly span back around again, as his brain processed what he had just seen.
"Merlin, Hermione!"
"Ugly isn't it. I've tried everything to get rid of them, but it serves me right for not cleaning them properly at the time."
Hermione's body was a mass of new and healing bruises, overlaid with scars; this in itself was shocking enough, but what had really made Draco shake was that on her stomach, just above her belly-button was a massive capital J. It looked as if it had been carved into her soft skin with a blunt knife; it wasn't a perfect J, but it was recognizable for what it was.
"Just so I don't forget who I belong to."
"What happened to you Hermione? The girl I knew in school would never have let this happen to her."
"The girl you knew in school is dead Malfoy. Voldemort killed her." There was nothing to say to that really, and so Draco turned back around again as Hermione continued to undress and put on Draco's clothes.
"You can turn back around again now." She was swamped by his clothing; her stick thin body painfully evident due to his oversize clothing flapping around her frame. Draco threw her a couple of pillows and a blanket, and she cocooned herself in the chair.
"Milk? Sugar?"
"Yes, and three please." Draco poured the tea, and handed her a steaming chunky mug which Hermione wrapped her hands around.
"Help yourself to biscuits." Draco added, and then sat in a chair opposite her, with his own tea cradled in his hands.
"Never expected you to be your own house-elf Malfoy." Hermione said, teasing him gently. "How the mighty are fallen."
Draco smiled, surprising himself, seeing as he had started fights for less.
"Likewise Granger. Begin." He was reminding her of Dumbledore; she thought suddenly, how strange the world is.
Thinking back, Hermione wasn't sure where it began. On the battlefield she assumed, when they learned of those that hadn't made it; the friends whose laughs would never again mingle with the ones of those left behind. One death she had taken harder than most of the others however. One person, who she had never expected to be taken from her, had been. One person, that she couldn't live without, had given her no choice but to. Ron had died, fallen into the darkness after he had leaped in front of a killing curse that had been aimed at her. Her noble friend who had always cared more for her than anyone else on the planet had made the ultimate sacrifice for her.
As the words poured from her lips, so the tears that had remained unshed for far longer than was healthy poured from her eyes and down her cheeks. Draco had known that Ron had died, but he hadn't known just how he had died; for what. He couldn't imagine how much courage a deed like that must have taken; could one person love another enough to do that? Apparently. Could HE love another person enough to do that? Doubtful.
A few weeks after the battle, Hermione had been in a wizarding bar, drowning her sorrows in a glass of Firewhiskey, when she had been approached by a man. This man's name was James, and his eyes had reminded her of Ron's eyes; they were the same bright dancing blue. What she couldn't see, drunk and mourning as she was, was that while Ron's had danced with kindness and love, James' eyes danced with malice and anticipation. It had taken a few weeks, but she had eventually let him into her bed, her apartment and her heart. She was desperate for someone to love her and need her; Harry had withdrawn into sorrows of his own, and couldn't help himself, let alone her.
It was almost unthinkable to Draco that she had shattered so completely over the loss of her friend. She had always seemed so strong and capable throughout their time at Hogwarts, but now that he thought about it, maybe her strength had come from the strength of them all. From the knowledge that whatever she did, that the others would be there to back her up, help her out. Maybe if he had had that kind of friendship, that kind of love, he might have turned out more like her, and less like himself.
Everything had been perfect for them for a while; he had moved in with her, and they were so completely in love. She confessed to him all of her fears, and he was there to comfort her when she woke up in the night, screaming after reliving her moments in the battle with Ron. It seemed like she was finally healing the wounds that had festered in her soul since that fateful night. And then one night everything changed in an instant. He had stumbled in at 4 am, steaming drunk and rambling accusations at her, saying that she had been lying to him, cheating on him with everyone from the guy downstairs to the postman. When she had tried to deny his accusations, he had backhanded her across the face with such force that she had flown into the wall opposite and hit her head.
When she had regained consciousness, James was sat with her head in his lap, sobbing hysterically, repeating over and over that he was sorry. He protested that he had been drunk, hadn't known what he was doing, was stressed out from work; he blamed everything possible to assert his innocence. He had begged her to stay with him, promised that it would never happen again. Hermione knew that it would, knew that everything had changed; she didn't have the emotional strength to walk away, so she stayed. Every time since then had been worse, the severity of the injuries increasing and the beatings coming with shorter intervals between them. She knew that one day he would kill her, and wasn't sure what scared her more; the fact that he would kill her, or that fact that she didn't care enough to try and get away.
"And that's it. Can I go now?"
"No, you cannot go now!" Draco said incredulously. "Did you honestly think that you could tell me that and then just let you go back to him?"
"Well actually, yes. Although I will need to get my clothes cleaned and change back before I go home though. If he sees me in some strange man's clothes, the beating will be a lot sooner than I'm expecting right now."
"Hermione…?"
"What? Why do you suddenly care anyway? It's not like you ever cared how I was before you saw me in the alleyway, and it's not like you cared at the time. Do you think that I didn't see you walk away?"
The shame welled up in Draco; he had thought that she hadn't seen him walk away; he had thought that he had got away with it.
"Look, Hermione, you can't expect someone to hear your story and then not care. You forget that I knew you before you were like this, and I know how far you've fallen since then. You need someone to save you, and James is certainly not the man to do that."
"And neither are you Malfoy. I am released from my Wizard's Debt, and you can't keep me here. Thanks for your help Malfoy, but seriously, just forget that you ever saw me. I'll return your clothes after I've cleaned them."
And just like that, she was gone. She had Apparated away from right in front of him, gone so fast that she might have never been there at all, apart from her half-drunk mug of tea, and the heat slowly dissipating from the pile of blankets on the chair opposite him. Draco reached over and picked up the still warm fabric, and gently touched a bloodstain near the hem. She still didn't have any shoes on he realized.
Harry awoke to a frantic banging on his door. Sleepily he padded over to the door and opened it slowly.
"Hello?"
"Potter, is she here?" Harry's eyes widened slightly at the sight of a wild-looking Draco Malfoy standing at his front door.
"Is who here?"
"Hermione, you idiot! James beat her up again, and she ran away from my house. Now is she here, and if she isn't then tell me where she lives."
Harry opened his door fully and walked away into the small living room, knowing that Draco would take this for the invitation it was and follow him in.
"Sit down Malfoy."
Hearing Draco start to protest, Harry shushed him by raising one hand, and then he waved it at a chair. The chair creaked as Draco uncomfortably settled his weight into it.
"Start at the beginning Malfoy; you said you saved her from James. Was he beating on her again?" Harry asked wearily. When Draco nodded, he sighed and buried his face in his hands.
"I've been trying to get her to leave him forever, but she just won't do it. I think that she thinks of him as her punishment for letting Ron die instead of her."
"Well maybe you should have tried harder Potter! He's going to kill her one day, and she won't even try and save herself!"
"Do you think that I don't know that?!" Harry screamed, suddenly snapping, "I just don't have the energy to try and save her as well as myself any more. I can't be the saviour; I just don't have anything left."
"Well maybe I do." Draco said, surprising even himself, "Maybe I have the energy to try and save her."
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into Malfoy. I'm warning you now. We're broken. All of us, but especially her; this isn't something that you can take up as one of your little pet projects and then sneak out in the morning."
"I'm not stupid Potter; maybe she's what I need. Maybe I'm what she needs too; maybe we need each other. I know what she's going through, and she knows what I've been through. Who better than us to try and heal each other?"
Harry nodded then, muttering to himself.
"Stranger things have happened Malfoy, stranger things have happened. Just… don't hurt her? I don't think I can stand losing her too, even if I can't do anything to stop it."
With that, he handed Draco a piece of paper with an address printed neatly on it in what Draco recognized as Hermione's handwriting. Without replying, Draco whirled around and stalked out of Harry's apartment, closing the door with a bang behind him as Harry sank down into a chair and began to cry.
It wasn't far to the address on the piece of paper, and Draco was soon stood outside Hermione's front door. Unafraid, he pressed the buzzer and was rewarded with Hermione's tired voice.
"Hello?"
"It's me." Draco announced, knowing that she would recognize his voice, and waiting for the moment of judgement. Would she let him up, or would she just let him stand there on the pavement. A loud and prolonged buzz signalled that she had reached her decision and was allowing him up. Draco fished his wand out of his pocket, 'No harm in being prepared' he thought, considering for a second that James might be in the apartment.
He climbed the stairs up to her apartment, and knocked on her door which was quickly pushed open by Hermione. Her face was swollen, and her eyes were red with crying; tear trails were clearly visible down her cheeks, but there was a determined glint in her eye that hadn't been there when she had left his house earlier that night. She sniffled slightly and then pulled open the door fully, revealing the inside of her apartment. The place was a shambles, with clothes and belongings strewn everywhere; there were trousers hanging over the end of the couch, and photographs stuffed into a lampshade that was placed in a plastic box. It was quite obvious what was happening.
Someone was packing.
"Hermione?"
"You were right Draco, well about some of it anyway. This isn't me; this apartment, that man. Ron died so that I could live, and look what I've done with what he gave me. This is stupid. I'm leaving James. I'm going to go and live at Hogwarts for a while, Professor Dumbledore said that I could; and when I've got my life back together again, then I'm going to start again. I'm going to make Ron proud of me, you just see if I don't."
Draco nodded, "That's good. So what was I wrong about?"
"About me needing someone to save me; I can save myself."
Draco nodded again; she was right, she could save herself, WOULD save herself. She didn't need him, nobody needed him.
"I'm glad that you've come to your senses Granger. Now, I'll just get going so that you can pack; I'm sure you've got enough to do without me taking up your time."
Hermione stood up, and smiled at him.
"You can stay and help me if you want Malfoy. Don't feel that you need to rush off. Why did you come anyway? I've been blabbing on, and you haven't said what you came here to say." She stood there looking expectantly up at him.
"There's no need Granger, you've said it all anyway. Well, the important parts anyway; you always were the smartest witch in our year." She smiled at the compliment, but then sobered up.
"Malfoy? Seriously, is there anything that you want to say to me?" She looked up into his eyes.
"I'm sorry for not coming to help you straight away. I don't know why. I just…"
"I forgive you Draco Malfoy. Because you saved me in the end. You did what was right; you've always done what was right in the end, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I guess I have." Draco said, in a wondrous tone, suddenly realising that it was true. He had always done what was right in the end, although it sometimes took him longer than other people to get there.
She smiled at him then, and turned to her suitcase once more.
"What am I doing?" She said to herself, "Accio my stuff!" She shouted, waving her wand around her head and then ducking as a long procession of stuff flew into her suitcase which was charmed to shrink all her belongings to fit. When it was full, she zipped it closed and levitated it up off the sofa.
"Are you alright? You don't look very well?" she sounded concerned.
"I'm fine… No actually, I'm not fine. I haven't been fine for a very long time. How is it that you can all of a sudden you can turn your life around when I've been trying to do that for years? How come everything comes so easily to you, when it doesn't to me? Why can't I be like you?"
"You think that this is easy? Do you honestly think that I don't want to put all my stuff back, and wait for James to come home and throw myself at his feet? You're naïve if you think that everything comes easily; I'm just better at hiding it than you. I had to be."
Draco looked at her, and she looked right back at him. Before either of them knew what was happening she was pressed against him as tight as she could get without being absorbed into his skin. His hands hungrily roamed over her back, pulling and pressing her closer, knowing that it would never be close enough. Hermione's hands moved from his back to the front of his shirt, rapidly unbuttoning it, needing to feel his skin against her, needing him to be close. Draco understood, and remained still, just holding her, not trying to unbutton her clothing, but just allowing her to take what she needed. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, Hermione pushed it aside, letting it remain on his shoulders, and pressed her face against the almost burning warmth of his skin.
She seemed calmer then, with her face pressed tightly against his chest, his strong arms surrounding her, holding her so tightly that she could barely breathe. That was how she wanted it, that was how she needed it to be. He was content to stand there forever, allowing her to take what comfort she needed, gaining comfort from it himself. He dropped his head to bury his face in her hair, which she had cleaned with a shampooing spell since she'd been home. It smelled fresh and clean, and he buried his nose in it, inhaling deeply and gently kissing the crown of her head.
"Come with me to Hogwarts tonight."
"I can't." Hermione pulled back at his words.
"Why not? Please, I think I need you there, and I think that you need me too."
"Maybe you're right. Maybe you do need me, and maybe I need you, but you need to know that for sure. You go, and if you need me then just send for me and I'll come. I promise."
Hermione nodded, knowing the truth behind his words.
"I'll send for you."
He nodded, and then for the second time that night, he watched her apparate away from him. Draco turned to leave Hermione's apartment, and then gleefully wrote in big glowing letters across the wall, 'SHE'S TOO GOOD FOR YOU, AND IF YOU COME NEAR HER AGAIN, I'LL KILL YOU'.
It had been nearly ten days since Hermione had left him alone in her apartment and Draco had still not heard from her. As much as he wanted to contact her, he knew that he should wait for her to make the first move. He had just thought that after the emotional scene in her living room that he would have heard from her before now. Apparently not.
It had been a very long ten days, and Draco was exhausted; he hadn't been sleeping well, as his dreams were filled with visions of her lying battered in an alleyway. He had just settled himself into a chair, when an insistent tapping at his window made its way into his mind. He crossed over to the window and opened it, allowing the owl to fly inside and settle itself upon his coffee table. Draco recognised the owl as one of the Hogwart's owls and his stomach lurched at the thought of the place where Hermione was staying. The owl was carrying a parcel, and had a letter tied to its leg. Draco quickly untied the letter and dug in his pockets for a treat for the tired bird. He opened the parcel first, finding inside his boxers and joggers; curiously, his t-shirt was still missing however. He then ripped open the letter and skim read its contents quickly.
'Dear Draco,
I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to write this letter, and I hope that it finds you well. Please find enclosed some of the clothes that you so graciously loaned me the other night.'
So far this wasn't sounding quite like the letter that Draco was hoping for, and his heart sank a little bit. He sat down in the nearest chair, and proceeded to read the rest of the letter a little more slowly, trying to hold off the moment that he was dreading.
'You may have noticed that the t-shirt is missing, and I'll get onto the reason for that in a moment. The first thing that I wanted to say was that you were right about us needing to spend some time apart before making any important decisions. That had been a very emotional night for all of us, and nobody was in the right frame of mind to be making the sort of statements that were flying around. This time has been good for me, and it was good that I was alone; it has helped me immeasurably in getting my head together. That said, I think it's time that I moved on from here. I know now that I always have a place to run to when things are going wrong in my life, and I think that's the kind of reassurance that everybody needs in their lives.
I can't keep hiding away from things, and I think that I need to face up to the decision that I made while I was here. The reason that your t-shirt wasn't included in the box of things that I sent you is that I've been using it to sleep in. I can't sleep unless I'm wearing it, unless I'm surrounded by you. It's not a 'maybe' anymore; I know that I do need you, so if you want this to be something, then come to Hogwarts. Dumbledore has sent someone to come and get you, so that you can get around the security measures of the castle. If you don't want me, or this, then send word with him, and I shall return your shirt to you, and we don't need to ever see each other again.
He will be waiting at the bar of the Leaky Cauldron, by the picture of the pumpkin at 12.00 lunchtime tomorrow, and he will wait for twenty minutes. If you're not there by then, then he'll leave, and I'll know that you don't want this.
It's up to you now Draco, you'll do what's right for you, in the end.
Hermione'
Draco sat very still in his chair and watched the owl finish its treat and fly back out of the window, towards Hogwarts, where Hermione waited. Where she waited for him, and his decision, the decision that would change the future course of both their lives. He didn't even need five seconds to know what his decision would be; he got up and began packing some of his things, including lots of t-shirts so that Hermione would have plenty of choice in sleeping wear. He was sure that she would be bored of that one shirt after so long, and he wasn't going to have any girlfriend of his being bored.
At twelve the next day, Draco was stood by the picture of the pumpkin inside the Leaky Cauldron. He had been there for twenty minutes already, not wanting to be late for some reason and have Hermione think that he wasn't coming. Draco watched every face as it approached to see if it could be anyone coming from Hogwarts. He was startled as a voice suddenly rang out from behind him.
"Eager, aren't we." Although the voice was outwardly dripping with sarcasm, Draco knew it well enough to detect the joy that was barely evident beneath that.
"I should have known that he'd send you. How are you sir?" Draco replied, turning around to smile at Severus Snape.
"Fine, although demoted to errand-boy apparently." Snape's sardonic smile was twisted by the scar that travelled up his cheek from his jaw to his temple.
"You are nobody's errand-boy sir. How is she?"
"Fine, recovering from her ordeal well, but what more could one expect from one such as Miss Granger." Only Draco knew just how much Snape respected Hermione; after all, she had been the one to save him from certain death under Bellatrix Lestrange's wand.
"Good. Does… does she…"
"All the time Draco, don't fear. All will be well." Draco smiled at the old professor's reassurances; he had always known what Draco needed to hear. In some ways, Snape had been more like Draco's father than he would have liked to admit in public.
Wiping the smile from his face, Snape's normal mask of indifference and disdain swept back over his face.
"Shall we then, I know Miss Granger eagerly awaits my return, and hopes for yours."
"Indeed, let us be on our way." Draco manfully struggled with his grin, but gave up and let it spread across his face. Snape shook his head in despair, and lead the way out of the pub into a little known park just off Diagon Alley. Quietly murmuring a spell, Snape made some swishing hand motions, and then held out his hand to Draco.
"Much as I may intensely dislike this, I am afraid that you must hold my hand."
Grimacing, the two men clasped hands and with another quick word that Draco didn't quite catch, the two were transported to Hogwarts. They appeared in the Headmaster's Office, where both the venerable old man himself and Hermione were waiting impatiently in two old cracked leather armchairs. At the sound of the two men appearing into the room, both of their heads snapped around so quickly that it was a wonder that their necks didn't break. Hermione caught sight of Draco just as he dropped Snape's hand like it was on fire. She bolted up from her chair and crossed the room almost instantly, but then hesitated, as if unsure what to do.
Draco helped her out with this, by yanking her into his arms so hard and fast that it was a wonder she didn't get whiplash. Their arms wrapped around each other and Hermione sighed in contentment; this was what she had been missing all of the time that they were apart.
"You came." She murmured happily
"As if I could stay away." She snuggled further into his chest at those words, and so preoccupied were the pair with making sure that the other was real, that neither of them noticed Dumbledore and Snape leaving the room.
Draco's hands were soothingly rubbing her back, and how long they stood there, neither of them knew. Eventually Hermione pulled away,
"I should show you to your room, come on."
"Aww, but I was enjoying that," He whined
"We can do it some more later, if you come with me now." Hermione said with a sexy smile.
"Promise?" Draco said, raising one eyebrow and smirking, and Hermione laughed and nodded. "Come on then," he said, with a sigh.
Hermione led him down innumerable corridors, and finally Draco, convinced that she was taking him by the longest route possible, whined, "Are we there yet?"
Hermione laughed
"Here, you whiny child, your room is here."
"More importantly, where's your room?" Draco asked lasciviously, licking his lips.
"Next door," Hermione said, with a gleam in her eye.
"Perfect," Draco smiled, "I can sneak in and have my wicked way with you. Now, help me unpack would you sweetheart?" Hermione looked at him,
"Sweetheart?"
"Yeah, why do you have a problem with that?" He looked at her curiously.
"No! It's just… Granger to sweetheart in two weeks. That's got to be some sort of record."
"If it helps, they weren't exactly a normal two weeks, and we haven't exactly led normal lives, now have we?"
"True, I guess having lived through what we did changes you."
"Exactly, now help me unpack, and I'll show you what I brought you." Hermione squealed at this,
"You brought me something?! Why didn't you tell me this before?!" She sat on his bed cross-legged and bounced up and down with excitement.
"That doesn't count as helping Mi! Oh alright, alright! Now stop before you break the bed!" Laughing, Draco pulled his trunk out of his pocket and enlarged it to normal size. Flipping the lid, he pulled out the clothes he had haphazardly stuffed in there last night.
"Draco! What have you done to all your clothes?" Hermione laughed, lifting up a robe that was creased beyond repair and holding it up for his inspection.
"So I can't pack… that's okay, cos you can do it for me now. Now stop insulting me, here. It may not be an exciting present, and they're slightly used but…"
Draco threw her the handful of old shirts that he'd brought for her. They were among some of his favourites for slobbing out in, and they were large and comfy, with his scent completely imbedded in them; just how she liked it, sleeping surrounded in Draco.
"Oh, honey! They're perfect! How did you know?" She smiled at him, as she buried her nose in the cloth and inhaled deeply. He smiled to see this. Then she stood up on the bed, and pulled her top off. Before Draco could react, she had pulled on his shirt, which was so big that it came down to mid-thigh on her, covering herself up again.
"Let's have a nap." She announced, like a child, and lay down on his bed, holding out her arms invitingly.
Draco looked at his still unpacked trunk, and practically leapt into her arm, snuggling deep down into the bed.
"Nox." He stated, loudly, and smiled in satisfaction as the lights obediently went out. He wrapped his arms securely around Hermione's warm body and relaxed, feeling happier than he had done in years.
He awoke, hours later to a cold bed. Hermione had been gone for a long time, as her side of the bed was stone cold. At some point, house elves had come in and put his clothes away he noted with satisfaction. There was a note on his dresser and he crossed the room and picked it up, recognizing Hermione's handwriting and smiling.
'Sleepyhead,
When you get up, come next door and see me.
Hermione'
Draco left his room and looked to either side to try and find Hermione's room; there was only one other door on this corridor that he could see. He crossed to the room and knocked on the door,
"Sweetheart?"
"Come in Draco," came the answer immediately.
He pushed open the door, and walked into the room. It was exactly like his, but it was lightly scented with lemon and vanilla and had cream drapes around the bed.
"Draco," the voice came from behind him, "I don't know if you want to do this, but…"
He turned around, and saw Hermione stood there, clothed only in a very short, almost transparent cream negligee. His mouth went dry, and he swallowed convulsively; he was sure that he must look like an absolute idiot just stood there, eyes wide. He reached out his hand gently to stroke across her face as lightly as the brush of a butterfly's wing.
He wanted to do this right. He didn't want to scare her away, and he wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her right now.
Licking his lips, he pulled her very slowly and gently towards him. When her body rested lightly against his, he slipped his hand down around her waist, strumming the base of her spine with his thumb. With his free hand, he reached up, and brushed her hair away from her face as his lips slowly descended to meet hers. Unlike all of their contact before, there was no desperation in this, no urgency. There was just a gentle coming together as he lightly brushed his lips against hers with almost no pressure at all. As he rested his lips gently upon hers, he felt them gently part and breathe a tiny sigh of air against his mouth. Taking this as the encouragement it was, Draco gently increased the pressure, tilting his head slightly to ensure a better fit and parted his lips. Then thinking better of it, he pulled away and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of her lips. Slowly and maintaining eye contact, he moved his head around and pressed a kiss on her neck just below and behind her ear. He pulled back again and, with his lips trembling, kissed her so lightly she almost didn't feel it just below the centre of her left eyebrow.
Pulling back completely, he pointed at the corner of his mouth, and smiling she placed a kiss there. Then copying his actions, brushed a kiss against his neck, taking the opportunity to slightly nuzzle against his neck as she pulled away. She kissed him just below his eyebrow and then made eye contact again. Then together they moved in and their lips met with passion, but not with force; Draco was determined that everything about this first time would be gentle.
Her negligee was shed seemingly with mere brushes of his hands; it was like a dance for the pair of them that nobody else could ever participate in. Draco manoeuvred her towards the bed, and slowly laid her down upon it with all the care that one would take with a priceless statue. He dropped butterfly kisses all over her body, paying particular attention to all of her scars.
"You're so beautiful Hermione." He whispered. As he looked up at her, she trailed her finger along the bridge of his nose and smiled at him. She sat up from the bed and pulled off his t-shirt taking care to trail her little fingers over his chest, caressing him even as she was pulling off his clothing. Stopping for a second, she just looked at his chest; the pale skin was marred by raised lines and marks, just as hers was. She knew what these scars meant, and she knew why his eyes were now squeezed tightly closed. She lowered her head to his chest and began gently kissing each and every one of his scars. She felt his hand bury itself in her hair, and pausing in her mission, she looked up into his face.
"I love you, Hermione. Scars and all."
"I love you, Draco. Scars and all."
They came together then, lying back on the bed, Draco slipped his hands up her body, stopping to worship at her breasts. Her hands slid down his back, and lightly trailed up the indent of his spine, making him shudder.
"Now, Draco." She whispered into his ear, making him look at her from his current position at her breasts.
He nodded, and carefully bent up her knees so that her feet were braced against the bed. She reached down, and gently caressed the skin of his erection, making him gasp and grab at her hand. He crawled forward until he lay between her raised legs and initiated a deep kiss; as his tongue slid forward and met with hers, his body slowly merged with hers.
Once he was fully inside her, Draco paused, giving her a second to adjust to him. "Love you." He gasped, concentrating on remaining in control.
Giving her no time to respond, he slid slowly out of her, prolonging the delicious friction of his body against hers. He fell into an easy gentle rhythm; this had never felt so good and so right before, he hadn't even known that it could get so good. Reaching his hand down to where their bodies were joined, and circled her clit with his finger, making her gasp and clench her inner muscles against him. He groaned as she moaned in pleasure.
"Oh god Draco, ah"
Knowing that he wasn't going to last much longer, Draco sped up the rhythm of his thrusts, lifting her hips so that he was in deeper than ever before. Feeling his climax nearing, he brushed against her clit again, and reached his peak as she shuddered around him, and cried out his name.
Breathing heavily, he rolled over to the side and gathered her warm, relaxed body up against his own.
"Love you Draco," she murmured
"You too sweetheart," he replied as they both fell into an exhausted sleep.
TEN MONTHS LATER
Harry and Hermione stood together at Ron's grave, holding hands, looking down at the pure white marble headstone
RONALD WEASLEY
1986-2007
Died for love in a world consumed by hate
"I wonder if he knows just how much we love him." Hermione wondered aloud.
"I'm sure that he does. I love you, you know. If it had been me where Ron was, I would have done the same."
"And I would have done the same for both of you, but that wasn't our destiny. I love you too Harry and I always will. We need to let him go though. We'll be together one day, and I think that's all we need to know right now."
"You're right Hermione, as always." Harry sighed. "Thank you Ron. I love you." Harry moved off down the hill, giving Hermione her moment alone with Ron.
"Ron. Thank you. I love you. The words seem so inadequate, but I think you understand wherever you are. We're naming him after you, you know. Merlin Ronald Severus Malfoy. Merlin Malfoy. God, I know! I bet you're laughing your pants off up there, but Draco insisted, it's a family name apparently and I wouldn't let him have Lucius. That day Ron, I know that you didn't regret it. I could see into your eyes, and I know that you wouldn't have had it any other way. It took me a long time to come to terms with that, but I have now. I love you. I love you. I love you. I'll see you soon, I promise Ron. I miss you. I love you."
Brushing away the tears that rolled down her cheeks, Hermione placed one hand on her bump and walked down the hill towards her husband. Towards her life. The life that Ron had died to save. And he would have been happy with it.
A.N. Okay, so I had a tear while writing this. How sad am I? Anyway, thanks for reading, and if you enjoyed it, then you can show your appreciation by pushing that little blue button down there… hint, hint!
Thanks very much
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