The number of emotions running through Malfoy as he stood gaping at her were enough to make Hermione's head spin.
It was difficult to think straight with them rushing upon her like an incoming tide. It was also hard to separate her own feelings from his; they tended to bleed into each other and resonate into a feedback loop that grew and grew.
It made her dizzy. She had no idea how Malfoy had hidden the experience for years while working with her.
It hadn't been her first choice to create a temporary bond, more like Plan E in her collated list of backup plans. She'd hoped they'd just be able to talk, but he was too far gone. She'd needed to shout in order for him to hear her, and she could tell by the way his eyes lost track of her that he could barely see.
She hadn't expected the experience to be quite so—overwhelming, both physically and emotionally.
It had felt like a supernova in her brain when their lips had touched and the sensation spread through her body like fiendfyre. And then, before the shock had worn off, Draco's emotions had hit her like a ton of bricks. She could feel the desire roaring through him, a simply shocking level of affection and, even in the midst of their kiss, his endless worry that he might hurt her.
And when he had started kissing along her neck and letting his hands roam up her body, Hermione was barely coherent enough to realized that if she did not stop them they would mate , right there on the floor.
Pulling away from someone had never felt painful before. It felt like a part of herself were ripping as she pushed Draco away.
His eyes were black with desire as he'd stared at her, his chest heaving as he shuddered to breathe. Feeling the way he was burning with want made her worry that he'd drag her back into his arms. But almost as quickly as the thought occurred it was snuffed out as she felt Draco sense it, and she felt how it devastated him.
He wanted to die. It was a wave of depression and resignation magnified by his torment over their kiss. She felt like she was being swallowed by it. Fighting to think clearly was felt like wading through a bog.
She—she needed to redirect his focus—before they were both completely consumed by his emotions.
"I'm sorry, Malfoy, it was the only thing I could do to bring you back," she tried to explain.
She funneled her focus onto herself, trying to untangle her thoughts and feelings from his.
She needed to see which symptoms the temporary bond had relieved. The mental fog slowly cleared as she focused on the agenda she had made before entering his room earlier that evening.
She cast a diagnostic spell and was pleased to see his fever was gone. That was a great relief as he'd been burning at a temperature that most wizards couldn't survive. His hearing and senses seemed entirely restored. He was still looking dazed and she wondered if he'd even realized that he was physically feeling better.
"Can you see now?" She pressed, trying to draw his attention away the absolute maelstrom of emotions she would never have imagined him possessing.
"What?" he asked, startled. Before glancing around the room wildly and then turning back to her with an expression of horror.
"What did you do?" he growled.
"Well…" She could feel him throwing up defensive walls around himself as she explained.
As he stood up she could feel how he braced himself to push her away.
"There's nothing for us to talk about, Granger. This doesn't change anything. I told you already that I find you vile and loathsome. Taking advantage of me in a weakened state in order to fulfill your hero complex doesn't change anything. Now get out of my house."
Hermione would have rolled her eyes at the emptiness of his words if his own feelings hadn't nearly bowled her over. It was like her heart was being ripped from her chest.
She couldn't help herself, she crumpled slightly from the intensity. She could feel his concern well up as he moved toward her.
She held her hand out to ward him off.
It would be a very bad thing if they touched. She could still feel their blood thrumming, and she doubted she had the ability to push him away again if he were to kiss her.
She took a deep breath and straightened herself.
"Well. That's more intense than I'd expected," she observed.
"What is?" he asked suspiciously.
"Our emotional bond. Feeling you. I hadn't realized—"
"Our what?" he choked.
"Yes. The temporary bond makes things go both ways. I can feel you the way you've been able to feel me." She gave him a look. "I would almost believe that you find me vile and loathsome if you hadn't felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest as you said it. Does thinking about me always hurt you this much?"
He looked as shocked and horrified as if she'd suddenly transformed into Snape dancing about in a tea towel. Then he bolted for the door.
It was locked. Hermione had warded it with every obscure spell she could think of after she'd entered.
He threw himself at the door several times before slamming his forehead against it and slumping slightly in defeat.
"Please take your damn wards down, Granger," he asked softly.
'Not until we've talked about this more," Hermione replied evenly, walking back over to the couch where she had started her evening, seating herself.
"There isn't anything left to talk about. This doesn't change anything. I'm still not going to bond with you," he said, but he walked over to the sitting area and seated himself tensely on the arm of a wingback chair.
"Maybe not," Hermione agreed. "But I would like to have at least one honest conversation with you before we decide that. The playing field is evened now, there's no point in lying to me about how you feel. So let's see if we can talk without insulting each other."
Hermione could feel Draco's irritation with her and couldn't stop her lips from twitching slightly in amusement.
Check, Malfoy, she thought rather smugly.
"Do you think this is funny, Granger?" Draco demanded. "I'm not some challenge or cause for you to overcome. Do you know what would happen if we bonded without reciprocating emotionally? We'd be soul-bound, but only physically. You wouldn't be able to refuse me even if you wanted to. But you could still fall for someone else, just without being able to act on it. And I'd feel it. Every second of your dissatisfaction and regret until we died. And I'd rather die now than live through that."
"Draco." Hermione said softly. "Does it feel like I'm here because I feel guilty?"
He stared at her for a minute before closing his eyes.
"No," he admitted. "I don't know why you're here."
"I'm here because we have a little under a week to see if there's a chance that I might be able to have feelings for you."
"You don't." Draco said flatly. "I would know, if you did."
"Maybe. But considering that you also believe I hate you, I don't think your ability to read my feelings is as accurate as you think," she pointed out.
"Really Granger, you're going to try to convince me that you've harbored some secret crush on me all these years?" Malfoy asked, opening his eyes just to roll them at her.
"N-no." Hermione stuttered. "But, that doesn't mean I haven't ever noticed you. It just wasn't something I considered plausible enough to actually entertain."
Malfoy's eyes popped open and he stared at her in astonishment.
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
"Well..." Hermione felt her cheeks blushing deep scarlet as she admitted something she had never imagined owning up to anyone, much less him.
"You- you're not exactly bad looking," she stuttered.
"I'm not exactly bad looking?" Malfoy repeated, looking as smug as a kneazle who caught a gnome.
"You know…" Hermione didn't think she had ever felt so embarrassed in her entire life, it didn't help that she could feel how absurdly pleased Malfoy was. "You're-"
She gestured toward him futilely, finding her vocabulary failing her for the first time in her life.
"I'm—?" Malfoy prompted with a drawl.
"I'm not having this conversation," Hermione declared, drawing herself up.
"Now, now, Granger," Malfoy chided. "Considering you entered my warded bedroom, forced me to admit my interest in you, and kissed me without permission, it's only fair that you tell me this. Being an honorable Gryffindor and all that."
"I didn't notice you minding that kiss," Hermione pointed out hotly.
I didn't notice you minding it either," Draco shot back.
Hermione shot him a dirty look before resigning herself.
"Fine," she huffed. "I think you can be rather attractive. When you're not sneering at me, you have rather nice, classical features. I've always had a thing for blonds, I don't know why. And your quidditch uniform—looked very nice on you when you used to play."
She plowed ahead trying to get it over with as quickly as possible and determined not to look at Malfoy until she was done. "And you're very smart. I don't like that you're so manipulative, but I respect how intelligent you are, and I—I did appreciate how you could maneuver yourself politically in ways that I can't in order to help my work in passing bills like the WRA. I know there are parts to Ministry politics that I'm inept at and I appreciated your ability to make up for my shortcomings. I—I have enjoyed working with you, Malfoy."
Whatever Malfoy might be feeling at her confession he had tamped down hard enough that she could barely read him. But his gaze felt hot enough to melt steel, even without seeing it.
"The hardest part," she continued, determined to get it all out in one go, "honestly, was feeling that you never actually cared about any of the things you were helping me with. That you were just doing it to control how my legislation might affect or benefit Malfoy Holdings and save up favours to call in at some point in the future." She paused for a breath and then finished, "B-because, I think we could have become friends and maybe—maybe I could have started to like you, if I hadn't always just felt you were using me."
She fell silent and looked at him.
"I see," he said finally.
"But as it turns out, you're more complicated and honourable than I imagined."
"Honourable?" Malfoy laughed bitterly. "Really?"
"I've been researching magical bonds all day, Malfoy. I know there are any number of ways you could successfully bind us without needing me to reciprocate at all. The fact that you didn't, and that fact that you tried to protect me from even knowing—regardless of whether or not I find that somewhat unfair and misguided—shows me how honourable you were. It's not like you're facing a quick death, you've been fighting toward this for a long time now; and that's meaningful to me."
"Whatever." He shrugged, feigning indifference despite the fact Hermione could feel his gratification. "I'm not a monster, Granger, I don't know what sort of low view you have of most wizards."
"A pretty reasonable one, actually." Hermione said primly. "The Ministry did an investigation into coerced magical bonds a few years before the war. Obviously it's a hard thing to draw firm evidence from after the fact, but they concluded that coercion probably accounts for most of the bonds formed that didn't have any previous romantic relationship recorded. Considering that there aren't records of a single magical being dying from not bonding in the last hundred years, the study estimates that between a hundred and thirty-six to two hundred wizarding folk may have been coerced into bonding since then. If I hadn't kissed you, Malfoy, by tomorrow evening you would have been the first one."
"Maybe they'll build me a monument for good behavior," Malfoy quipped. "They could stick it next to one of Scar-head's. Draco Malfoy, Quarter Veela with the best fucking self-control."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"The point is, Malfoy, the amount of self control you've exercised literally defies bonding magic. It's not supposed to be resistible. It's a failsafe to keep you alive. That's why I took your wand away before I woke you up...but you didn't even try anything. Quite the opposite actually. And when I kissed you and then pulled away, you stopped. I should have had to stun you."
"Well, I can tell you that it was fucking difficult."
There was a long silence after that, as they sat contemplating the other. Hermione tried another topic.
"Did you know, the reason your mother gave me that grant for orphaned werewolves five years ago was because she was already certain I was going to be her daughter-in-law?"
Draco couldn't hide his irritation and confusion. "That must be wrong. I didn't even know then."
"Perhaps your mother knows you better than you do.," Hermione teased. "She says you liked me since fourth year at least."
"That's an utter lie," Draco growled, but he blushed positively crimson.
"Well, it does answer a question I've been pondering for years. I spent ages trying to guess what it was that she wanted when she agreed to fund the fosterage program with me. It was a properly slytherin way to position me. This would be a lot more shocking if we hadn't already been working together for so many years."
She said it lightly, because she could admire Narcissa's cleverness and foresight in a complicated and fraught situation. But deep down the realization hurt. Was it all feigned? Like me, accept my money so you'll save my son when I need you to.
Hermione dismissed the train of thought. Narcissa would do whatever it took to protect and save Draco, the whole world knew that. Hermione could hardly imagine having children of her own, but mightn't she do something similar of it meant keeping them alive? She'd done things to protect Harry and Ron that had been only a few shades shy of dark magic. And made choices because someone had to make them, and it might as well be her carrying the burden.
"I'm sorry, Granger," Malfoy said suddenly.
"What?"
"For my mother. If I'd known what she was doing I would have stopped her. What she did makes things difficult for you without changing anything."
"What do you mean?"
Malfoy sighed.
"I'm not going to change my mind. There isn't any choice for you to make, whether you decide you want to save me or not. I won't agree to it."
"And just why do you get to decide that by yourself?" Hermione demanded hotly.
"Because I created this situation, so it's my prerogative."
"But I'm part of it too! It's unfair of you to make the decision without even consulting me."
"Really?" Malfoy snarled. "Do you think it would be more fair for me to say decision is up to you? That I'll just go along with living or dying based on what you want?"
"I—" Hermione faltered, at loss.
"Just accept that I don't want your help, Granger."
"Why is my help such a bad thing?"
"Has it never occurred to you that not everyone wants to be one of your charity cases? I'm not a bloody house elf or a werewolf orphan or Harry Potter."
"Has it ever occurred to you, Malfoy, that I don't do these things out of charity? I do them because I care," Hermione snapped.
"Not for me. It wouldn't be that way for me," Malfoy said coldly. "If you made that choice you'd do it because you felt like you had to, because no one else can save me but you."
Hermione was silent.
"But if you die, Malfoy, I'll feel responsible for it for the rest of my life," she said quietly.
"But you'll have your life," he seethed. "Someday maybe you'll realize that it isn't your responsibility to save everyone. That you don't always have to help just because you can. Have you seen yourself, Granger? There's barely anything left that you haven't sacrificed. Your research opportunities. Your graduation. Even your parents! You always give something up rather than realize that it doesn't always have to be you. When was the last time you did something just because you wanted to and not because you also felt you had to?"
Hermione stared at him.
"And why shouldn't I? Should I just ignore the werewolves because research would be more fun? Or have abandoned Harry because I'd miss my parents? Maybe it shouldn't always be me but I don't see anyone else stepping up. And in this case, there's no one else. It is just me. And if I'm willing to save you I don't see why you won't let me."
"Because I don't want to be saved by you just because you feel like you have to." He was properly furious now. "I'm in love with you."
Hermione stared at him. She knew, but somehow hearing him say it made the air shimmer with magic.
"I'm in love with you," he said again, despairingly. "And that means I want you to be as happy as you possibly can. And you won't be, not with me."
Hermione opened her mouth to try to argue but he pressed on.
"There is nothing for you to do. There is no decision for you to make. Unless you're planning on ignoring my wishes and essentially raping me," he sneered as he said it, "there is nothing you can do to save me."
Hermione sat staring at him at loss.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," she breathed, looking down at her hands. "But I can't just ignore this. Now that I know. You can't just tell me not to try to help."
"I know." Malfoy said sadly. There was something about his tone…
Hermione head shot up. His wand was back in his hand, somehow he'd recovered it when she wasn't looking. She snatched up her own but he'd already hissed,
"Obliviate."