Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, Snape would be alive, Hermione would never have married Ron, and oh yeah...I'd be rolling in money. Sadly, I'm not. :)
I have recently begun having all my stories beta'd by the wonderful, talented, amazing Rusty Weasley. So I am updating this story as of 9/27/2012 and I hope you enjoy! :)
Part I
Hermione angrily stomped out of the Gryffindor common room. If Ron and Lavender wanted to suck each other's faces off in front of everyone, that was fine, but she didn't have to stay and watch.
Ron was such a hypocrite. Two years ago he almost had a heart attack when she went to a Winter Ball with Viktor Krum, and now he was practically shagging a girl in front of the entire Gryffindor house. Damn the chemicals in her brain for even making her care about a silly little boy like Ronald Weasley.
There was nothing rational about her feelings for Ron. He wasn't right for her. He was lazy, sloppy, unmotivated, and mean most of the time. She, on the other hand, was dedicated, loyal, smart, and tried to help whenever she could. She knew opposites attracted, but she and Ron simply never made sense.
Of course, knowing that didn't stop the sharp pain that seared through her chest when Ron did something mean or, in this case, paraded his bimbo girlfriend in front of her. What was more, she didn't want to drag Harry into the middle of it because there was already tension between them over that damn potions book.
She silently fumed as she walked without any destination in mind. It wasn't until she was already halfway to the top that she realized she was walking up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. There was a shuffling of feet above her that brought her out of her thoughts. She didn't really want to deal with talking to someone else.
On the other hand, she didn't want to go back to the common room. She bit her lip, weighing her options before finally deciding to continue up the stairs. Whoever it was probably would not be there long.
However, when she got to the top of the staircase and saw a familiar head of platinum blonde hair, she immediately regretted her decision. She almost turned around before he could notice her, but it was too late. He whipped around, face contorted into it's typical sneer, and stared at her in shock.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Draco barked, wiping at his face. Hermione got the the feeling he'd been crying, but quickly shook the thought from her head. She was fairly sure Draco Malfoy didn't know how to cry.
"Not that I have to explain myself to you, Malfoy," Hermione replied, tilting her chin in the air, "but I am looking for a place to get away."
"Well, go find somewhere else," Draco said, his voice considerably softer. He turned back around to look out at the night sky. Hermione was caught off guard by the sad tone of his usually harsh voice.
"No," she said, walking further into the tower and standing next to him at the railing that overlooked the grounds of Hogwarts. Draco just sighed and attempted to ignore her.
For the first time in months, she didn't think about Ron, standing there next to Malfoy. His strange behavior had given her something else to think about. His was acting strange and almost defeated. His face was paler than usual and dark circles had been growing under his eyes for months.
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and saw his whole body almost shaking with tension. The Draco Malfoy she knew was never tense. He walked around Hogwarts castle with a self-satisfied smirk on his face almost all the time. Though, now that she thought about it, he'd been less haughty of late. She knew Harry assumed that the reason was that Draco had just become a Death Eater, an opinion she'd always thought was a little crazy.
Next to her, Draco was working to control his breathing. If he could focus on something other than the daunting and terrifying task ahead of him, perhaps he could keep it together and not weep like a little bitch in front of the girl next to him. Of all the people in the world, the stupid Gryffindor Princess had to be the one to find him crying all alone in the Astronomy Tower. Well, it could have been worse. It could have been Potter or the Weasel. At least Granger knew how to keep her mouth shut.
He had no idea what to do. He was no closer to fixing that ridiculous vanishing cabinet than he had been three months ago. Dumbledore was an even more frustrating matter because, not only did he not have any idea how to kill the most powerful Wizard in the world, but he lacked any desire to do so. Sure, he'd made fun of the 'old coot' but a lot of that was show. Dumbledore was really the only hope anyone had of getting out from under the thumb of the Dark Lord.
Draco was no idiot. He knew, even if Voldemort won this war, his life was better without the insane dictator. What choice did he have, though? His family's life was at stake. His stupid father just had to go and join with a mass-murdering nutter, and now he was paying the price. Sure, he sympathized with pureblood superiority, but not to the point that his father did.
He was pulled out of his silent rant when Hermione moved closer to him, "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"And why would I talk to you?" he grunted, trying not to look her in the eyes.
Hermione's features turned annoyed and she sighed. "Maybe because you look like your dog just died, and I thought you might want to talk about whatever it is that has you walking around like a zombie." she flipped her hair and turned her body away from him again.
"You wouldn't understand." Draco finally said. He knew this girl was one of the last people he should show vulnerability to, but his self-control was waining under the mental strain of his task.
"You'll never know if you don't talk," Hermione said, turning back around. "Look, I'm not just Harry and Ron's sidekick." She said, growing impatient. Her curiosity was getting the best of her. "I can keep a secret."
"I can't talk to you about it." Draco finally said, turning around and sliding down the wall. Hermione joined him, moving closer. "What are you doing up here?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Ron stupid Weasley." She huffed.
Draco chuckled for the first time in months. "What did the Weasel do?" he asked.
Hermione was too mad at Ron to even correct him. "He and Lavender are well on their way to producing another little Weasley in the middle of the common room floor." she explained. She didn't know why she was talking to Malfoy about this. He probably could care less, besides she knew she was providing him with fuel to taunt her with for the rest of her life. However, she had a feeling that whatever was said that night would stay between her and Malfoy forever.
"I really don't know why you care," Draco said. "You can do a lot better than Weasleby, even if you are a..." he cut himself off before the word left his mouth, but Hermione knew exactly what he was going to say.
"Filthy little Mudblood?" she supplied throwing him a hard look. "Why is my blood so damn important to you?"
Draco just sighed. How could he explain something that he believed even if he didn't know why? "I'm sorry," he finally said, "I didn't mean it like that."
"Yes, you did," Hermione said, beginning to get up, but Draco's hand reached out and pulled her back down next to him by the wrist.
"No, I didn't." Draco said, finally looking her in the eyes. He didn't know why he cared that she stayed. He didn't even want her there fifteen minutes before, but her presence was the first thing that took his mind off the hell of his life since the Dark Lord had taken up residence in his home. "How can I explain what I've always believed?" he asked her, honestly wanting an answer.
Hermione's features softened slightly. "Can I show you something?" Draco just nodded as she used her wand to transfigure a stray piece of thread from her skirt into a needle. "You say I'm a Mudblood. I can show you that I'm not."
She picked up the needle and pierced her finger with it, allowing a droplet of blood to bubble to the surface. Then she held her hand out for Draco to give her his finger and he reluctantly did. He let out a gasp as she pierced his finger as well.
"What was that about?" He finally asked, watching his own blood form a droplet at the tip of his finger. Hermione held her finger up to his and smiled softly at him.
"Look," she instructed. "How different does our blood really look?"
Draco did as he was told. The red drops flowing from each other their fingers looked exactly the same. It wasn't as if he thought her blood would be a different color or actually have dirt in it, but the stark realization that it didn't look any different than his own hit him like a ton of bricks. His breath began to come out in pants and his heart raced.
"But..." he started, looking from her to their fingers and then back at her.
Hermione was surprised that her tactic had the intended result. She knew if she could just get the blood purists to understand the irrationality of their beliefs they would be able to see the world more clearly, but part of her expected Draco to be unaffected.
"We are human, Draco," she finally said, choosing his first name because she felt him on the edge of a revelation. "Our blood is the same."
Draco felt like he had been hit over the head. He couldn't take his eyes away from the two red trails that met each other where their hands were joined. An overwhelming, but confusing emotion took over him where he saw her blood meet his. He finally moved his hand from her and sucked the tip of his finger to stop the flow of blood. Hermione quickly did the same and looked back at him.
"I..." Draco started, not sure what to say. He saw Hermione in a whole new light all of a sudden. Instead of just seeing the Mudblood friend of his enemy who always beat him in the classroom, he saw a person. She was a girl at the cusp of a war, just like him. She at least had a choice, where he didn't. But still, they were in the same mess, though, obviously on different sides.
Hermione could see the wheels turning in Draco's brain and felt an overwhelming need to comfort him as his entire worldview shifted around him. When he lost the sneer on his face and allowed himself to drop his guard, he really was beautiful. It was a shame he'd been brainwashed at such a young age. She wondered how many hundreds of children, just like Draco, would never have the opportunity for understanding. It made her sad.
"Draco, are you okay?" she finally asked.
Draco didn't answer her. He was too hypnotized by her warm brown eyes. He'd been nothing but hateful to this girl from the first day he met her, and still she sat next to him, trying to help him. Of course, the new found information she'd offered him only made his life more difficult. If he couldn't categorize people the way he'd been raised too, fighting on the side of the Dark Lord would become even more unbearable than it already was. His terrifying thoughts began to creep back into his conciousness, and he quickly did the only thing he could think to do to keep them out of his head. He leaned forward, and kissed Hermione Granger.
A gasp escaped Hermione's mouth as his lips collided with hers. She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, "What was that?" she asked.
"Please," he almost begged. The last thing he wanted was to have to think about what he was doing. He just wanted to feel.
Hermione contemplated the situation for a moment. Draco was her 'enemy.' He was likely trying to forget about whatever was bothering him by losing himself in some sort of physical intimacy. It was reckless, but part of Hermione was sick of being sensible. And a large part of her had liked Darco's kiss and just wanted to feel it again. She might regret it later, but Hermione couldn't help herself. She leaned in, and taking his face between her hands, she kissed him lightly on the lips.
Draco took the lead from her, pulling her closer to him by the waist until she was almost in his lap. His tongue flicked out and begged for entrance against her lips. She eagerly granted it. She felt her body heat up all over as his fingers moved up her ribcage. She'd only ever kissed two boys in her entire life. Viktor's kisses were rough and clumsy. The Muggle boy she'd briefly dated the summer before her fifth year had been fairly inexperienced and it had been obvious. Draco was clearly a master at the art of kissing. She guessed the rumors of his sexual prowess must have had some merit.
Draco's mind was brilliantly blank as he felt Hermione's soft body against his. Even his weekly snogging rendezvous with Pansy never relieved the tension the way kissing Hermione was doing now. He didn't know why, but something in him felt totally relaxed with her. He'd never had that feeling before, and now he couldn't explain why he did with her. On the other hand, having her in his arms made it hard to care about anything but feeling.
"Draco," she moaned as his hand moved up to cup her breast. She was shamefully inexperienced when it came to sexuality, and the feelings he was erupting in her were new and intense.
Draco moaned as he heard her say his name and pulled her closer to him until she was straddling his hips. Her hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck as he devoured her lips. She felt the bulge in his pants pressing against her lace covered center, and bucked back and forth against it before she could stop herself. Things were escalating quickly but she didn't care.
"Gods, Granger," He choked as he felt her rub against him. He pulled her head back by her hair and kissed a trail down her neck stopping just before he reached the top of her shirt. His fingers moved between them, unbuttoning the white oxford shirt as quickly as possible. When she was finally divested of her shirt, he continued kissing the smooth skin of her chest, down to her lace encased breasts.
Hermione tried to work the buttons of his shirt too, but it proved too frustrating and finally she ripped the garment open. Not even bothering with removing it, she ran her delicate fingers up and down his hairless, toned chest and abdomen. He might have lost weight, but that didn't stop him from keeping his seeker's build.
She knew this was insane but she couldn't stop herself. If someone told her she'd be half naked with Malfoy in the Astronomy Tower after the Quidditch game, she'd have told them to see Madam Pomfrey. But there she was, wantonly dry humping Draco Malfoy in a dark corner of the castle. "Oh," she moaned as the bulge in his pants rubbed against a particularly sensitive part of her anatomy.
Draco gripped Hermione's hips in his hand and stilled her movements. If she didn't stop, he was going to blow his load all over his pants. That was not where he wanted to blow it. Hermione looked at him, lust mixed with confusion in her eyes. "You're killing me," he growled, his lusty gaze staring daggers into her.
Hermione attacked his mouth with hers again, sucking the breath from his lungs. Her renewed lust spurred him to move his hands from her hips to the zipper of her skirt. When she didn't protest, he pulled it down and slipped his fingers inside, just to feel the material of her knickers. She couldn't believe she was letting him touch her like this, but she didn't want him to stop. She had never felt like this in her whole life. She felt free and reckless and she loved it.
Her hands moved to the belt of Draco's pants and she looked up at him before she continued. His eyes went wide at the realization of what Hermione was doing. Sure, he'd hoped, since the moment their lips met, that she'd take it this far, but he never actually imagined that she would. "Please..." she moaned, mirroring his own words.
He didn't have to be asked twice, he moved his hands into her hair and pulled her lips back to his as she fumbled with his belt, finally undoing it along with his button and zipper. Draco hurried to pull her skirt off of her, finally ripping it at the seam when he realized she'd have to move off his lap for him to do so. "I'll fix it, I promise," he moaned as he lifted his hips for her to move his trousers off his waist.
All thought left Hermione's brain when she felt his fingers press against her clit from the outside of her knickers. "Oh!" she squeaked, throwing her head back. A jolt of heat immediately shot up from her pussy through her stomach.
Draco smirked against her skin as he reached around to unsnap her bra. He caught a nipple in his mouth. "Oh, Draco, Please..." Hermione moaned, her breath coming out in pants.
"Please what?" Draco asked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
Hermione huffed impatiently. "I don't know," she snapped. "Just please..." she groaned, pushing herself harder against his fingers which were currently running up and down the length of her slit over her knickers. She was dripping wet and he was at the end of his self control.
He lifted her up off his lap and laid her down on the tower floor before moving himself to rest over her body. His lips went back to their assault of her breasts and she sighed with contentment as he settled in between her legs. She ran her fingers down his sides and hooked them into the elastic band of his boxers. With the help of her feet, she was able to rid him of the green silk that was one of the last barriers separating him from her.
"Shit," Draco panted as his cock came into contact with her wet knickers. "Hermione, are you sure?" he asked. He was holding onto the last threads of his control, but if she didn't stop him soon, he wouldn't be able to stop himself.
Hermione smiled when he used her first name, "Please, Draco," she groaned, rubbing against him. "It doesn't make any sense, but I want this." she explained.
His slipped his fingers into the waistband of her knickers and pulled them off in one clean motion before settling between her legs once more. He gripped her hips again, and Hermione groaned at the feeling of his fingers biting into her skin. She leaned up and captured his lips in hers, wiggling her hips underneath him.
She could not believe she was about to have sex, let alone with him, but in the moment it felt so perfect. She felt his fingers ghost over her wetness again and then felt the head of his cock pressing at her opening. "You are so wet," Draco murmured against her lips before rocking back and forth at her entrance.
In one quick thrust he filled her and halted. He's suspected she was a virgin and when he felt her barrier rip around him, he had to bury his head in the crook of her neck to keep from slamming into her too hard. He felt her tense up and he pulled his head up to look into her eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse from restraint.
"Yes," she breathed, tilting her hips to take him in more deeply. It really hadn't hurt as badly as she had been led to believe it would. He pulled out of her slowly before slamming back in, this time with a little more force. As he did she felt him brush against something inside her that made her insides turn to goo. "Oh yes," she moaned, screwing her eyes shut.
Draco kept a moderate pace as he moved in and out of her. He gripped her thigh and hiked it up and over his hip to enter her a little deeper. As he did, her moans became louder. The beautiful sounds leaving her mouth were overwhelming. The feel of her soft skin against his was more than he could handle, but he didn't want it to end. He knew that after this they would never share another moment like it again.
He held on tight, trying to keep control of himself and help her reach her peak. "Faster," she moaned, surprising herself at her forcefulness. She felt she was close to the edge and it was maddening.
Draco picked up the pace, fucking her hard into the ground. "So good..." Hermione panted as her breath hitched. She was close. She didn't know how she knew, since she'd never felt this way before, but she did. Her legs were beginning to shake on their own and her body was overheating.
Draco knew he couldn't last much longer. He knew Hermione was right there with him, and he decided to push her over the edge. He rested the pad of his thumb gently against her clit, applying the slightest pressure. "Fuck!" Hermione shrieked, as her body began to convulse.
Her pussy began to pulsate around his cock and it triggered his orgasm. He felt himself tumble over the edge as she began milking him dry, her voice raised in ecstatic pleasure. He couldn't string any coherent words together, but he heard himself growl as he shot his seed deep into her shaking body.
He collapsed on top of her, as his arms could no longer hold him up. They breathed each other in for several moments before he rolled to the side and turned to face her. Hermione suddenly felt very exposed without her clothes on. She blushed slightly and pulled her shirt over her chest.
"I should probably go," she said, awkwardly. While, in the moment, sex with Draco had seemed like a good idea, the intense look he was giving her only made her feel awkward.
Draco just nodded. The disturbing thoughts were seeping back into his brain, though they were far less intense than before. He fixed her skirt as promised and handed it to her. They dressed in silence, and Hermione turned to leave.
"Draco," she said, turning back to look at him. "Whatever is bothering you, I know you'll do the right thing," she said, a small smile playing at her lips. "You aren't a bad man. You just never got the opportunity to be good."
Draco stood speechless as he watched her descend the stairs to the main part of the castle. No one's words had ever shook him to the core the way her parting sentence had.
Twelve years later
Draco sat at the head table in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. They were waiting for the first-years to arrive for the opening feast of the year. He'd been the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor for the past four years, lasting longer than his predecessors for the last few decades. Even after Voldemort had been vanquished, the position had been hard to keep filled until he came along. It was a personal favor to Dumbledore that he returned.
He'd felt very uncomfortable about returning. He could count his fond memories of the place on one hand, with one finger. The night he'd shared with Hermione in the Astronomy Tower was rarely far from his mind. As things turned out, she left school at Christmas to help Harry in his battle with the Dark Lord, and he hadn't seen her since.
By the time the war broke out, he was fighting on Potter's side, but Hermione was gone. No one would tell him where she went, but then again, no one in the Order seemed to trust him completely. Even when he was the one that isolated Voldemort so Potter could kill him.
That night with Hermione stayed with him for several reasons. Obviously, it changed his world view. He never uttered the word 'Mudblood' after that. His whole attitude about blood status change due to the shocking realization Hermione had given him about how their blood was exactly the same. That was also the night his allegiance changed. After an hour of silent debate, Draco marched into Dumbledore's office and explained what his task had been, and threw himself at the old wizard's mercy.
Of course, Dumbledore granted it. More than that, he gave Draco and his mother protection. After his sixth year, he took up residence at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He found himself taking on Hermione's role in the group, though they never really appreciated his presence. However, after Hermione left, Draco was the only person as skilled with research as she was. Within a year the battle broke out, and, as they say, the rest is history.
More than anything, though, Draco remembered that night because it was the first and only time he'd ever felt intimacy with another person. It was short lived, but it was real. He had no idea where Hermione had gone, or why she'd left, but everyday he wished he had the opportunity just to see her again.
He was pulled out of his thoughts as Professor McGonagall led the first years into the Great Hall. As she began to call names, the children sat, one-by-one, on the three-legged stool as usual. He usually paid little attention to the ceremony. Once you'd seen a sorting nine times, it was hard to get all that excited anymore.
"Granger, Cassiopeia," McGonagall called. The name got Draco's attention. Granger was not a common name. He peered down at the little girl sitting on the edge of the stool. With one look, he knew it was Hermione's daughter. Her hair may have been blonde, but it was bushy just like her mother's. Her heart-shaped face was like Hermione's too.
His heart hammered in his chest. He quickly did the proper calculations in his head before looking back at the girl. Twelve years ago, he thought to himself. When the little girl looked up at the Professors table, he found himself staring into the little girl's grey eyes. His eyes.