Of Hermione and Draco

by tooweaktocureyou

When it becomes hard to distinguish separate ideas of each individual. Common among lovers, friends and family members. Between fathers and sons. Between famed Death Eaters and their offspring. But that's muggle nonsense. You know your father is right.

Of Hermione and Draco

II.

(a)

Enmeshment.

Its a condition that exists, similar to a disorder. When someone is so consumed with another that their thoughts, feelings and attitudes become one. When it becomes hard to distinguish separate ideas of each individual. Common among lovers, friends and family members. Between fathers and sons. Between famed Death Eaters and their offspring.

But that's muggle nonsense.

You know your father is right. Pure blood is all powerful.

(b)

You didn't return to Hogwarts for your seventh year.

Not only were you missing out on N.E.W.T.s (such a tragedy) but you weren't able to see how the school would function without Dumbledore.

While your father lay decaying in Azkaban, you and your mother rule the manor. You can tell she is nervous for you by her constant fawning. Her worries are confirmed when your Aunt Bellatrix arrives with news from Him. She says you are to eliminate the Parkinson's. He wants it done in a fortnight.

When your mother asks why, your aunt says the Parkinson's have yet to declare their loyalty. Ghent Parkinson is a powerful wizard, she says, and his neutrality is a waste to the Dark Side.

Your slow to process this information. You think of Pansy. How could you kill your friend? You couldn't even kill Dumbledore. Now you must kill Pansy and her parents.

Pansy.

Someone you have made love to since fifth year. Someone who really knew you. Knew how badly you wanted to please your father. How incredibly respected you thought you would be if you could become the Harry Potter of the Dark Side. Pansy. Who smelled and tasted of cinnamon. Pansy. Who you broke up with during sixth year because you knew this day would come.

Bellatrix asks you if you are ready to actually fulfill one task for your master, to keep the Malfoy name in good graces.

You smile at her and say, of course.

Inside your mind it is raining.

(c)

You lean against the light post on the corner of the street where Pansy is soundly sleeping. You can picture her blonde hair radiating as the moonlight hits it. It takes everything in you to not go in her room and make love to her. You twist your fingers around your wand and wait. You notice a pair of yellow eyes, close to the ground, staring at you across the street.

You ask the headmistress why she isn't at Hogwarts.

McGonagall transfigures into herself. She says she can't imagine what you are going through but she wants you to know that she believes in you, just as Dumbledore did.

She says yours is not a lost cause.

You tell her its too late. You scream that this task isn't for your benefit. There is your mother to think about. You have to protect her. You are everything to her.

McGonagall talks of protection. She talks of bravery. And you listen. Your thoughts are so loud the sound of her apparation barely registers.

With a quick Alohamora, you are inside the Parkinson hose. You go directly to Pansy's room, the scent of cinnamon leading the way. You are surprised to see she is awake.

Is it now, she asks.

You nod and then you kiss her and you are hit with a rush of cinnamon nostalgia so overwhelming you grip her hair and shoulder tightly. You release her and she is staring at you with hazel tears. You raise your wand and you begin to shake.

She tells you she will always care for you.

Its too much for you to take.

Your hands find your way to your hair and you begin to pace. Pansy continues to stare at you. A cat appears in the room.

You were right, you scream. You tell her that you are a fucking coward. McGonagall tells Pansy to get dressed, that Hagrid and Madame Maxine will take her and her parents to France, where they will be safe.

He knows, doesn't He professor, you ask.

She places a hand on your shoulder and suddenly you are standing outside 12 Grimmauld Place.

(d)

McGonagall is speaking to al the people in the house and you are in the other room. You see the little Weasely and the Quibbler girl on the couch across from you. They are talking and giggling and changing the color of each others hair. They hold hands. You glare.

Queers.

Or maybe you are just jealous. You don't have to time to dwell on these thoughts. McGonagall and the Werewolf come into the room. They tell you that Fred and George went to collect your mother from her home. The Werewolf will show you to your room.

You follow him. You feel like a zombie. You feel like there is led in your shoes. You feel like there must be a dementor somewhere in this godforsaken place, taking all that's left in you, making you feel empty and cold.

You sit on the edge of your old, rusted springy bed. The door opens and you hear your surname in the form of a question on the lips of the little Weasely girl.

She asks if you are okay, if you need to talk or if you'd like something to eat.

You cannot respond. You roll over and pretend you are asleep.

But you know, tonight there is no sleep to be had.

(e)

When you awake, the Golden Trio is in your bedroom. Potter is staring at you rather intently and the Weasel mutters bloody hell. She just stares. You meet her eyes and she looks away.

Potter asks you if you are on their side now. You don't respond. Weasel says he doesn't trust you. Weasel says no one changes. She remains silent. Potter and Weasel continue to ask questions and to make statements.

You remain silent.

She remains silent.

Potter and Weasel turn to leave. She stands still. They look at her questioningly and she holds her position. Weasel throws his hands up in defeat and Potter gives her a weak smile. They leave.

"So its true then?"

You can't keep your eyes off her.

"You look like hell."

You tell her she looks like a mudblood.

She laughs. Your heart skips. Her laugh sounds a symphony of warmth. You've never been more intrigued.

"You still believe that? After everything that's happened?"

You don't answer. You take notice of her eyes, her waist, her breast, her legs, her face. You don't fancy them dirty.

Mud. Pure. Half. A chorus of No-Longer-Matter sings in your head.

"You know, since you've come here, Kreacher has become worse with his insults. Have you two been taking the mickey out of me?"

You ask about your mother.

"I don't know, Draco, I'm sure its driving you mad to not know. If you'd like I --"

She stops talking when you roll over and put the blankets to your ears. You hear her walk out of the room.

You want her to touch you.

(f)

Its been weeks since she has been back to see you. Much to the pleasure of the Order, you haven't left your room. The Quibbler girl brings your food. And a copy of the Quibbler. You eat the food. You slide the empty plate and the Quibbler back under the door.

The rain hammers angrily against the roof. You love the sound. You fall asleep to a precipitation lullaby.

You are awoken when you hear the door open and shut. You are on your feet within seconds. You open your mouth to question the intruder but are silenced by her voice.

"Draco?"

She's crying. You can hear it. She moves toward you, aided by the light on the end of her wand. She sits down on your bed.

You sit beside her.

She is looking at you now. "Today...there was...they found Neville and he...oh God."

She is bawling now. Her slender frame shaking. Her breathing irregular. You move to touch her but you draw your hand back.

Mud. Pure. Half. A marquee of mockery scrolling your brain.

Her sobbing causes her to cough. She is coughing uncontrollably. You eye your glass of water and retrieve it from your nightstand. She sips it and regains her composure.

"I didn't mean to make such a spectacle. I just thought perhaps you wanted to know how things were going...on the outside."

You awkwardly mutter a thank you.

"Are you lonely?"

You nod. She intertwines her fingers with yours. You don't pull away.

You ask about your mother.

"Fred and George haven't sent word. Mrs. Weasely is out of her mind with worry. I imagine you are too."

You don't say anything.

"Draco, why didn't you kill the Parkinson's? I thought you wanted the life of your father. I thought --"

You interrupt. You tell her she thought wrong. You tell her you loved Pansy, that Pansy was a big part of your life, that Pansy is to you like Ron is to her.

She nods. "Draco, you aren't alone. I'm not Pansy but I, I can care. If you want I'll..."

She doesn't continue. There is silence for awhile.

She kisses you. Soft, quick. Like a cruel tease of a peppermint tasting opportunity. And then she laughs. Merlin, you love that sound.

"Draco, I'm sorry. That wasn't smart. I don't know what's come over me."

She waits for a response. You don't give one.

"Right then. Goodnight"

You say goodnight. You say her name. Her first name.

(g)

Pansy.

Pansy is here. You leave your room for the first time since you arrived. You hug her as she cries. The members of the Order are exchanging glances behind you. You are too excited to care.

You and Pansy slip into the parlor. Pansy tells you her parents are fine, that McGonagall suggested she come to keep you company, and to let you know that everything was okay.

Pansy says that she forgives you.

You tell her about the war. The bits and pieces of information you've heard while here. How the Crabbes were killed by Aurors, Hogsmeade was attacked twice and Neville.

When you speak of Neville, you remember. The kiss. Her laugh. Peppermint.

You contemplate telling Pansy but you decide against it. Pansy wouldn't understand.

You tell her you don't know where your mother is or how she's doing.

Pansy hugs you and you feel your chest expand for the first time in weeks. Then you notice the distinct smell of peppermint and see her standing by the door. She looks from Pansy to you.

"Mrs. Weasley wants to know if you two will be joining us for dinner."

Pansy answers for you and tells her yes.

Dinner is loud and cheerful. Pansy sits next to you but stares at the Weasel throughout the meal.

You decide its best you don't speak during dinner.

After everyone had finished, Pansy goes with The Quibbler and Weasel girl to the living room.

You retreat to your sleeping quarters.

You are surprised to find her there, waiting for you.

"I'm glad Pansy is here. I tried to get you to talk to me but I was so painfully kidding myself. Hermione Granger, such a clever girl."

She laughed again. But this time, it was a laugh of sadness and grey. The type of laugh that come before crying or anger. She continues to laugh and you can almost see the rage building inside of her. You can't understand the cause for her anger but nevertheless, you feel obligated to touch her.

"Harry has Ronald. Ginny has Luna. You have Pansy. No one confides in me. No, not Hermione. I'm so...I'm just..." She began to tremble.

You wanted so much to kiss her.

Mud. Pure. Half. An epiphany of enticement and enlightenment churned in your stomach.

You turned her to face you. Your hands found her cheek. She kissed you. The kiss got deeper and deeper until you were in over your head, drowning in a tidal wave of fumbling hands, pants and sweat.

You stopped and pulled away. You told her to leave.

Once she was gone, you rolled over and tried to sleep. Contemplating the substitution of cinnamon and peppermint.

(h)

Fred and George have returned. Without your mother.

You know this because she comes to tell you.

"They went to your house and she wasn't there. Kingsley and Tonks said they will continue to look for her. All of the Order will." She pauses. "Will you be alright?"

You don't answer because you don't know. she is sitting at next to you now, holding your hand. You tell her to leave.

She doesn't leave.

You tell her to get Pansy.

"Pansy is with.." She hesitates. "Pansy isn't here."

You ask where Pansy is and who she is with. She turns her head to look out of the window.

"It's begun to rain again."

You notice that she holds your hand tighter and she smiles as she tells you, "don't let go."

You are suddenly outside. In the rain. You feel it all over your body. Each raindrop like an individual piece of salvation. Cleansing you.

She is twirling with her face toward the sky, laughing.

You are now seeing that she is what you need.

You grab her wrists and you scream over the rain that you are scared. That you miss your mother.

And then you tell her that it is her that makes you feel less pain.

"Is that your backward way of telling me that you fancy me?"

You don't respond. You don't need to.

She is kissing you now, up against the oak tree that overlooks the headquarters.

You feel her shiver, not knowing if it is because of pleasure or the cold, and you break the kiss to hold her.

You really love to hold her.

(i)

Now you aware that she is necessary. It is an odd feeling, to need another person. Now you leave your room to be with her. You go outside and talk with her. Or you go outside and lay next to her, not saying a word. The feeling is too much for you to explain. You wonder how a person can experience all of it at once and not go mental.

But if you had to be mental, at least she was the cause of it.

A week after the day in the rain, you made love to her. You smile when you remember her looking up at you with love in her eyes. You try so hard not to dwell on how it felt to be inside of her, to thrust into her so hard she screamed your name. You hated to think about it because it made you want to do it over and over. You wanted every moment to kiss her collarbone and plunge your fingers in and out of her to make her say your name like that.

But you couldn't, because many days she was gone.

She was always with Potter and Weasel hunting for Horcruxes. She was always researching and reading and analyzing and frowning. You often tried to stay away from her when she was working but it became so hard. Sometimes you would just watch her read. And when she found the time, she would let you make love to her.

(j)

You remember the day she came home and said that it was over. They had found the last of the Horcruxes and the battle was about to begin. She was nervous, you could tell.

McGonagall asked you and Pansy if you would like to fight. Pansy said yes and Weasel's face turn red in fury. He left the room and Pansy ran after him.

You said yes as well.

The time of the battle came and the Light Side was victorious.

Voldemort was finally dead.

There was a huge celebration in the wizard world. Pansy was reunited with her parents.

And you saw your mother.

She arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place three days after the war. She was aged, her blonde hair turning white. Heavy bags lined the bottom of her eyes.

You had never been so happy.

She hugged you and told you how proud she was of you. How much she wanted for you to make the decision you did. And how the Malfoy's were finally free.

(k)

The day of the funeral was an awfully, humbling day.

Amidst the celebration, there was still devastation to be acknowledged.

She didn't cry as she sat next to you. You knew she was upset. You honestly believed she had cried all that she could, that there were no more tears left to give. You just held her. You thought she just needed to be held.

Pansy and the Weasel held hands.

Little Weasel and the Quibbler held hands.

The Werewolf and the Pink Hair held hands.

And you held hers.

And you kissed her. With everyone watching.

And she squeezed your hand tighter.

(love)

The possibility that one could acquire the disorder of enmeshment increases with each relationship created. It is so easy to lose oneself in another, to share their dreams, their goals, their ambitions.

But that's just psychological nonsense.

If you were to lose yourself, it would be with her.

If you were to share dreams, goals and ambitions, they would be hers.

Maybe your father was right. Pure love is all powerful.

A/N- Please Read and Review. Also, Read Of Ginny And Luna. This Is Part Two Of A Series. Of Ginny and Luna is Part One.