Your arms around me come undone,
Makes my heart beat like a drum
See the panic in my eyes,
Kiss me only when I cry.
Cause you always want what you're running from
And you know this is more than you can take
Baby don't forget my name
When the morning breaks us,
Baby please don't look away
When the morning breaks us
Bittersweet – Ellie Goulding
It was always the same.
The same blood, the same amount of bodies lying on the floor, the same feeling of hollow and sorrow; it was always like that. The sky was always grey, mourning the dead, and the air always smelled of ash, dark magic and destruction, full of fear and panic. Grief was a permanent burden on everyone's shoulders, and hope had started to disappear.
The II Wizarding World had been going on for more than it should have been, and it was wearing everyone down. No one had time to sleep or eat anymore, because of all the battles that were being held. School mates were now divided on allies or enemies, and so were their parents, their teachers, and even their school's suppliers. No one trusted anyone anymore, and it had started to take its toll on friendships, marriages and families. Laughter had been replaced by angry stares, tension-full silences and exhausting fights; even in Grimmauld Place.
The Order's headquarter was always full of people, whether they were members of the Order, their families or injured girls and boys. The latter were increasing, and the house's inhabitants were wondering how they would distribute the rooms and supplies, something that they were short on. The house smelled of blood and death, too. The scent of war and darkness lingered on the walls and it did nothing for their fighters' spirit. It contributed to diminish hope and any remote possibility of happiness. However, the hectic ambience of the day contrasted with the peace and quiet from the night, if there weren't any attacks, that is.
The first time was like that: at night, when everything was silent and dark, and the stars shone bright. It was one of those rare nights in which everyone was in their room; trying to sleep after the battle they'd just come from, and everything one could hear was silence, so empty and yet so cherished. Or at least that was how it was for her: cherished, desired. It meant that, even for a few minutes, she could forget that they were fighting. In those moments, she could forget that she was a soldier, and remember that she was just a girl, blossoming into a beautiful and young woman.
She was exhausted, but she couldn't sleep. She hadn't stopped turning since she had got in bed; she couldn't forget the day's events. The image of a 5-year-old girl's body, lying lifeless on the floor, couldn't leave her mind, and everytime she closed her eyes, she saw her face, and her open eyes, which were full of fear. Slowly, trying not to wake up Ginny, Luna and Angelina, her room mates, she left her room and walked outside. The only thing one could her was her soft footsteps, and her breath was the only visible thing in the cold, dark corridor.
She sat on the porch, watching the stars. She had her wand on one hand, because even there were tons of protecting spells, she didn't feel safe; she didn't anymore. She shivered, and hugged herself tight, trying to protect herself from the cold breeze. She had been there for five minutes when tears started to roll down her cheeks, slowly and lightly. She let them fall, and didn't even try to find a reason to why she was crying, it was her way of venting.
That's how he found her the first time it happened; crying and cold. She didn't hear him come, because she jumped when he sat next to her. None of them said anything, though. They both appreciated the quiet and peaceful moments, even in each other's presence.
Sniffing, she wiped her tears and turned her face to look at him. He was looking at the stars too, and his nearly white hair shone under their light.
"Insomnia?" she asked softly, trying not to break the peaceful moment.
"Yes, you too?" he said, still having his gaze on the sky.
"Yes" she was now playing with the grass that had managed to grow there. "It's a nice night, isn't it? Everything's quiet, and I can feel free. It's in moments like this that I can let myself feel small and normal, like no one expects a thing from me"
He considered her words, and wondered how to reply. He understood, he really did. He felt completely the same. He'd joined the Order a year ago, after refusing to kill or torture anyone in Lord Voldemort's name. He didn't want to join them either, but no one could be neutral: they were either fighting for Harry or for the Dark Lord. So one day, he left Malfoy Manor, a place he could no longer call a home. His father, if he could still call him like that, looked only like a shadow of his former self, wearing rags and not being shaved and polished as he used to. His mother… well, she had refused to take part in their activities, and she died after being tortured. That was the spark for him, they'd taken away the only thing that had ever mattered to him, something that somehow managed to break and shatter him, destroying the last remains of his childhood and breaking the last straw that kept his dark and cold heart in place.
"I know" was his only answer. He had never been one to speak much, and since his mother died and joining the Order, he'd kept everything to himself. It's not like anyone wanted to talk to him, or he to them, but he tried to keep his words to a minimum.
She was looking at her hands when she spoke again. "I'm sorry for your mother, Malfoy"
He snorted. "I'm too" he was looking at his hands too. "Maybe it was better like this. She didn't deserve it, but at least she's in peace now… At least she can't see what Father and I have become"
She fixed her gaze on him. This had been the deepest conversation they'd ever had. After a whole year living under the same roof, they'd overcome their childhood differences, but they'd never talked liked that. She could feel the distress on his voice, the pain that had managed to escape in such a statement, the light shaking on his soft and velvety voice.
"I've forgiven you" she confessed. He was now looking at her, his blue eyes set on her brown ones. "She'd be proud of you" she took his hand, something that took both of them by surprise. "You are a good man"
He looked down at her hands and noticed how small and warm they seemed in comparison to his. He gently moved it, and considered what to say next, if he should say anything at all. He cleared his throat instead.
"I'm sorry I told you that. I don't need your pity"
She sighed. "I don't pity you. I envy you" he snorted, but she didn't care "I wish I was like you, brave and strong. You never break down, you keep your head cool in the battle, you never show any signs of weakness… I wish I was like that." She whispered.
"You shouldn't. If you break down is because you care for someone. At least you have someone to care about, family and friends who will cry if you die, who will mourn you. I don't have anyone anymore. That's why I can keep cool and level-headed: because I've got nothing to lose. If I died, well, no one would even notice. No one would miss me."
He didn't know why he had told her everything, but the tranquil night and fresh air was an invitation to confess. He told her because she understood; because she would never tell anyone. With time, he had learned to trust the Order, but mostly her. She had been the first one to accept him, something that had annoyed and surprised him. However, soon after that, he found out that talking with her helped him ease his broken soul, because she listened, and didn't ask personal questions. They would usually talk about the battles, or books, or school; other times they would just fight. That night, it was different. She was the one to talk, the one who needed to be fixed. Maybe she was just as broken as him; maybe she didn't like to show it, just like him. That night, it was not a superficial talk; it was the talk they both needed, but had tried so hard to avoid; the conversation that would change forever their relationship. Learning about each other's secrets, feelings or thoughts created a certain type of intimacy, and would bare their souls to each other.
They kept quiet for a while after that, only listening to their breaths, both too lost in their thoughts to mutter anything. He looked down at her, and noticed her nearly violet lips from the cold, and her wild and bloodstained hair. The light from the moon and stars made her creamy skin glow, and her eyes were full of unshed tears. He saw how, one by one, they started to fall, but she didn't move.
"Don't cry, Granger" he whispered.
She turned and looked into his blue eyes, and noticed how light they were and how they had tiny specks of silvery grey. She felt like they were staring at each other's souls, and slowly, he brought his lips to her. Lightly and softly, almost like a feather. Both closed their eyes and pressed their lips together. Slowly, he pulled back and stood up.
"Goodnight Granger"
The second time it was her who found him outside. A month had passed since their last encounter, since their kiss, but none of them had brought it up. Both had felt awkward after it, though it had felt…like the right thing to do.
She found him holding his knees, looking at them since the sky was dark and cloudy. She had wrapped herself in a warm and long woolen jacket, and was holding a cup of hot chocolate. Her slippers were fluffy, and muffled her footsteps, which didn't warn him of her presence. She sat down next to him, but he didn't shift.
"If I had known you were here, I'd have brought you some" she told him, pointing to her mug.
"It's OK" he considered his next words, and spoke again. "About the other night-" he was quickly cut off by her.
"We don't have to talk about it" she said.
"Good"
They sat down in silence, comfortable in each other's presence.
"Do you think she forgave me?" he asked, looking back at the house.
"What?"
"Do you think Tonks forgave me before she passed away?"
Tonks, his only cousin, was killed a week ago. She'd left her newly-born child and a big group of family and friends who loved her, but Draco and her had never shared more than a few sentences. He had never been close to her, but in that year of seeing each other often, he had become fond of her.
"She never blamed or hated you. She hated the circumstances, the prejudices you grew up to hold, but never you. She-" she stopped mid-sentence to wipe the tears that had started to fall. "She used to say that you were like her long-lost brother. She believed in you, and even if you didn't know, she protected you. In the battles, she always had your back, trying to keep you safe. She forgave you a long time ago" her voice was broken, full of pain and sorrow. Fat tears were falling in the grass, mingling with the soft rain that had started to pour.
"She protected me?" he wondered, unbelievingly. She nodded.
"She was an only child, and you were her only cousin. She cared for you, you were a part of her family"
With that, he looked away. He wished it had been different. He wished they'd been closer and they'd been like any other family. She was cool, and she was a strong fighter, something that destroyed another prejudice of his: Hufflepuffs were not idiots. Another thing to write on the list of things that should've been different.
"She would have missed you, you know? The other day, you said no one would miss you if you died. She would have." She muttered. "I miss her so much. How are we supposed to fight, when everyone we know dies? She had just given birth, and she was killed. This stupid war left that child orphan. How are we supposed to go on?" More tears fell, as the rain started to get heavier.
"I know, Granger. I ask myself how my own father could kill her, every day, and it never gets easier." Both of them were now soaking wet from the rain, and the clothes and hair clung to their skin. "Come on, let's get inside"
Both of them stood up, and walked back inside. Once they reached his dorm, they stood up in front of the door, drinking in the silence. They hadn't dried themselves yet, and raindrops were stuck between their lashes. They looked at each other again, locking their gazes, and like magnets, she closed the space between them and kissed him. It was just as their first one, slow and light, and wet. She had been the one to start it, and was the one to finish it. She looked at him, his eyes still closed.
"Goodnight, Malfoy".
The third time wasn't at night, not even after speaking about deep matters. They'd been together with the rest of the Order, talking about their next attack, when she snapped at something he'd suggested. Without the others knowing how or why, they'd stood up and started to shout at each other.
"If we do that, we'll end up killing ourselves!" she shouted.
"We won't!" he barked.
"Who told you to plan the strategies, anyway? Who put you in the front line, Malfoy?"
"I was just suggesting, Granger. Unlike you, I try to give ideas and collaborate, instead of sulking down. I don't know you, but I want to win this war!"
She laughed bitterly. "For whose side, anyway? How do we know you're not telling Auntie Bella about us?!" she nearly screamed.
At that, he paled and growled, and his pupils dilated. "How dare you? After everything I've done! You know what they did to her! What type of monster do you think I am?"
Everyone in the room was quiet, looking at the fight in front of them. They'd seen them fight before, but not with such intensity and never talking about Narcissa. Hermione was about to reply, when Professor McGonagall entered the room.
"What are the two of you doing? Are you out of your mind? I'd have never expected such behavior from you, Miss Granger." She turned to the small audience that was watching them. "What are you looking at? Don't you have a war to win? Design your strategies, help the wounded and rest. Leave!" she ordered. Turning back to them, she went on with her strict speech. "I will not tolerate this type of behavior. I don't know what started this, but you must as well finish it. Once you've cooled down, you can join us if you can" and with that, she left.
A very riled up Hermione and a huffing Draco were left alone in the room, glaring at each other. They were breathing heavily, and electricity was floating in the atmosphere. He noticed her wild hair, her sparkly eyes and the way her cheeks were red with rage. He thought that she'd never looked more beautiful, something that took him of guard. He quickly closed the space between them, and kissed her hard. She hadn't expected it, but quickly caught up with him. Their third kiss was unlike the others; this one was bruising and full of passion, almost lustful. He held her against the wall and she hooked her legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss. However, it was soon gone, and Malfoy pulled away.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Granger?" he hissed. "You don't have any right to talk about that, or to jump at my throat when I did nothing! I'm here, working with all of you, fighting my ass off and you-" he stopped talking when he saw her crying and sliding down the wall.
"I'm sorry" she cried "These past days have been horrible, and I've been under so much pressure, and stress, and one moment I was okay, and the other one I was full of anger" the tears were rolling down quickly, and her eyes were swollen and red.
He sat down next to her, and she got closer to him, pressing her head against his shoulder, still crying. His shirt was getting wet, but if he noticed, he didn't say. He held her, and touched her soft tresses, trying to calm her down. Once she had stopped crying, she looked at him and realized how close they actually were. She kissed him, lightly this time.
"Thank you, Draco"
After that, their late night talks and their private kisses were more usual than ever, yet they wouldn't talk about it. Both knew they were getting much too close, but they were like magnets, they couldn't help but feel attracted to each other. They enjoyed their talks, and, even if they tried to deny it, they were comfortable with their presence, they craved it. One day, however, the blond brought the topic up.
"About us…"
"What about it?" she answered, too quick.
"I-I don't know what to do. We've kissed plenty of times, yet we are nothing. We see each other at night, but you ignore me the rest of the day." He whispered.
"There's nothing to do. This is a war. There's no time for things like this… I don't even know how it started… They're just kisses… I think that this should stop, though" she looked away from him. "We have to stop pretending that we can escape from the fights and death… We're getting close, and I don't think it's a good idea"
"Is it because of the circumstances, or because of me?" he asked, trying to conceal the hurt in his voice.
She stood up, turned and said "Goodbye, Draco".
Draco showed up every night at the porch, but she wouldn't appear. He would try to talk to her, but she would avoid him. He was starting to get paranoid, because he felt uneasy if he wasn't with her. He'd felt for the first time in a long time that someone cared about him, and that he was able to care about someone. He felt content with her; she made him forget about the war.
However, it was only after Lavender's and Michael Corner's death that he saw her again, though not on the porch. He had been sleeping when he heard a knock on his door. He had the pleasure to sleep in the only individual room in Grimmauld Place, originally given to him to keep him isolated from everyone. Groggily, and without caring that he was only in his underwear, he opened the door, to find Hermione outside, with tears on her eyes from mourning her friends.
"Granger, it's late. Is there something you need?" he asked, stifling a yawn.
"You. I need you" and with that said, she kissed him hard. It took him by surprise, but once he realized what she was doing, he kissed her back, and closed the door. She kissed him again, and tangled her hands on his hair, while his hands roamed up and down her body. He moved to her neck, and she wasted no time in scratching his back and torso.
He pulled back, and looked at her. Her eyes were glazed and lusty, with evident arousal, just like him. However, he had to ask.
"Are you sure?"
"Shut up and kiss me already" she told him.
Next morning, she woke up with his arm around her waist, holding her close. She couldn't help but smile. She turned, and saw how he slowly opened his eyes. He smiled at her too.
"Hey" he said, sleep evident on his voice.
"Hey" she greeted back.
He was about to open his mouth, when she pressed her finger to his lips.
"I don't regret it" she told him.
"Good. I don't either"
They were like that for a little while, until they heard someone shouting, telling everyone that there had been an attack on St Mungo's. Quickly, they dressed up, and before leaving the room, she gave him a peck.
She hadn't expected it.
Her group had been the last one to arrive at Grimmauld Place and she hadn't expected the voices and rushing she had found there. There had been a lot of injured people, and those who weren't severely wounded were trying to help as many as they could. She immediately joined them, and healed cuts, gashes and broken bones. She was tired as hell, but at least everyone had been attended.
But, after she was finished healing, she noticed that Draco was nowhere to be seen. She asked everyone, but no one had seen him in the last couple of hours. She went to his room, and found him lying on bed, breathing heavily and bleeding. She gasped, and run to his side. He was sweating, and his hands were shaking because of the pain.
"Oh, dear God, Draco you're hurt! Let me heal that!" she took her wand and some vials and healed his wounds, although it took her quite some time, and he was shaking and screaming in pain. "Why didn't you ask for help? You were really bad, you could've died!"
"There were people who needed you more. All of you had enough work to do, without me interfering. Thank you" he said honestly.
She looked at him, and thought about how worried she'd been about him.
"I would care"
"Pardon?" he asked, not knowing what she was talking about.
"The first day we talked, remember? You said no one would care if you died." She paused and looked him straight in the eye. "I would care if something happened to you"
He brought his hand to her cheek, caressing it. "I would too"
She lied next to him, kissed his cheek, and while holding his hand, let her soul talk.
"I think we should give it a try. To this" she pointed at them. "To us. I'd like to try. I've tried to stay away from you, but I can't get you out of my mind" she admitted, while looking at the ceiling.
He turned, facing her, and kissed her.
"That's the best thing someone has told me in the whole year" he laughed.
"It will be difficult" she warned him.
"It might be worth it" he assured her.
"You know Ron and Harry aren't particularly fond of you, right?"
"You know I don't expect them to be, and that I feel the same, right?" she laughed at this, while nodding.
"We're on war. If I don't survive this war, at least I can say that I followed my heart" she whispered, while curling up against him.
"Maybe it's true what your lot says. Maybe love will save us after all" he told her while kissing her hair.
She sighed in contentment, and put her ear over his heart, feeling it beat. Maybe it would work, maybe it wouldn't. But right now, it felt like the right thing to do, and it was enough for the two of them.
A/N: Sorry for not writing anything. I've been suffering from writer's block However, I've got a few projects here and there, and I promise I'll upload something soon.
I hope you enjoyed reading this and that you liked it. I would really appreciate it if you left a review on my work. You can find me at twitter andecaba, and in tumblr /turbosixer. I'll see you soon!
Love, Andrea.