Hello! HHL Here. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I wrote about 10 pages here and felt like I should publish this so that I can work on ch. 4. This chapter is not action packed, fair warning. In 2 chapters or so, we will begin the real depth of the story. We just have to get intros out of the way. c:
Faith without Honor
Ch. 3
"Draco."
He opened his eyes to see a figure looming over him. He assumed that he had fallen asleep sometime around four. Thank Salazar he hadn't had any dreams. "What do you want Blaise?"
"I was worried." The darker boy shrugged and sat down next to Draco. "Did you sleep down here?"
Draco wiped the sleep from his eyes. "No need. I couldn't sleep last night and came down to read."
Draco shrugged and sent a glare at the second year coming down the staircase. Poor kid scurried through the common room in seconds, probably scared to death. Draco watched the kid, pulling his wand out and idly twirling it between his fingers, which Blaise knew was Draco's tell. He inwardly groaned, knowing full well that Zabini didn't let any detail slide. He had the memory of a maniac. His friend never forgot one single bloody detail no matter how small or brief.
"You don't have to talk about it, but it is obvious that you're brooding." It wasn't anything other than a fact. Draco had never been able to control his emotions well when it came to confusion, and fear. He hated that Blaise could read him so easily. Pansy would probably think he was brooding about falling asleep in the common room, or so other petty crap, but Blaise always seemed to be able to read his soul.
Draco sighed. "You're not my bloody keeper."
Blaise relaxed back into the couch, never taking his eyes off of the blond, a calculating look in his dark eyes. Draco could read Blaise as easily as Blaise could read him. Blaise was thing about everything that had happened, how close it was to break, last summer, prefect duties. Everything. Why did he have to be a bloody Slytherin? And a good one at that.
"Perhaps. Like I said, you don't have to tell me, but you have to be more discreet lest Pansy finds out." Blaise raised his brow as if he knew everything Draco had been going through, everything he hid.
"I have no clue what you're talking about."
Blaise broke into a grin. Draco wanted to hex it off his face. "Look Draco, it's pretty obvious. You've been sneaking around lately, saying you have prefect duties and then not being where you said minutes later. I don't care if you're sneaking about with some chick, but you have to be better at hiding it. Merlin knows you mother would go mad if Pansy or Daphne noticed your behavior.
"All I'm saying is to be a Slytherin about it. It has something to do with that coin, doesn't it?"
"Shut up, Zabini." Draco's features went dark as his mood changed.
Blaise just laughed. "Whatever you bloody Git. You know I can read you like a book. I've known you for fifteen years."
"Seriously, Blaise. Just drop it. It hasn't anything to do with you so ignore it."
"But, it does have something to do with that coin you're always staring at doesn't it?"
He shook his head and went back to peering at his friend. Draco couldn't believe it. He had been careful. Blaise must have followed him sometime. Draco wouldn't blame him.
Blaise's family was neutral about blood standards, and he must have thought that Draco had something to do with the recent rumors of the Dark Lord rising up again. But of course the idiot had to phrase it like he knew Draco was sneaking around with a Mudblood. And not just any old Mudblood, but Hermione Granger. Potter's friend, and the smartest of the Trio.
Salazar's wand, Draco felt his mood turning more and more sour the more he thought about who she was, and why he sought her warm personality, and her honey brown eyes, and even the light smell of flowers that seemed to emanate from her very pores. Draco took another breath, driving his thoughts away from her, and her unruly hair. Hermione Granger would not distract him and make him feel miserable for finding comfort.
But hell, Draco thought, Hermione would be everything his father wanted. She was brilliant, and kind, and she laughed at his humor, and knew how to force a smile out of him, not to mention that the beat of his heart increased when she was around. The only problem with her was her blood. Dirty, diluted and no better than mud. She was close to Potter, and a Gryffindor. No. He would not think of her. She was too insufferable to stay at the forefront of his mind. Just some person to pass time with, and hold conversations with.
"Earth to Draco." A dark hand passed over his eyes, bringing Draco back to Blaise's attention.
"Sorry, mate." Draco sheepishly replied, "I zoned out."
"I know that look." Blaise insisted. "You're over thinking. Why don't you down a glass of fire whiskey and relax? It's useless to brood."
And Draco took his words to heart, because not even an hour later the two friends sat in the dorm room, each with a glass of fire whiskey in hand. If Blaise insisted he relax, then Draco would bloody well relax.
HPHPHPHP
"Why did you keep saying Malfoy's name in your sleep?"
Hermione eyes went wide, face flushing. "I… Ginny I was... having a nightmare."
It was obvious the redhead didn't buy her story, because Ginny pushed her back in the room and shut the door. Then she gave Hermione the look. Molly was famous for it. Ginny was a great mimic. Obviously not buying it, she pressed her back against the door.
"Bloody hell," Hermione paced and sat back on her bed. "I take it you won't believe that I had a sadistic side and have a tendency to mumble who I'd like to murder?"
Ginny gave her a sad smile. "Not any way in Hell, 'Mione."
"Fuuuuuck…" Hermione ran a hand through her hair.
"Stop being a baby." Ginny joined her on the bed, concern in her eyes above all other emotions. "You can't get your way out of this. I'll hex you if I have to. Now talk, Granger."
Hermione winced, her eyes shifting down to the floor. One deep breathe. Then two. Then three. She could talk her way out of this. If only she had time to think and formulate a plan, and… and… Hermione didn't have a bloody clue. At the mere thought of the blond, her heart found her stomach and her lungs didn't want to work.
But… He would- could never like her. He would never notice the way he made every sense in her body come alive with just one pearly white smile. Or how his eyes seemed to be raised from ashes themselves after a fire had died down. Draco probably would never look at her as more than just a friend. And really were they even friends? He sure as hell didn't act like it. Draco always-
"Stop it." Ginny gently wacked her shoulder. "You like the Ferret don't you?"
"He's not a ferret!" Hermione was surprised by her own tone. "He isn't. He's Draco. Can we leave it at that, please?"
"What do you think?" Ginny asked and Hermione had never admire the girl more than right now. Gin wasn't upset or angry.
"I don't know." Hermione placed her face into her hands. Her back felt stiff. "I… I started helping him with essays and homework a few weeks into school.
She paused, gathering her thoughts with a slight wave in her voice. "He stopped being a greasy git and showed me his actual personality. He's been nice, and he hasn't called me any names in ages. Merlin, Gin. His smile. It's stunning."
Hermione knew that Ginny would be able to see through any lie, and any inconsistency in her story, so Hermione told the truth. Hermione did not lie, only because she was horrid at it.
"You're really taken with him."
"WH-what? No I'm not!" Hermione didn't think she could flush more than she already had.
Ginny just rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you like the bloody fer- sorry, Malfoy. He's been an arse to you for years."
"He's changed. Something happened last summer, but he won't tell me."
"Uh huh. I just don't want you to be hurt." Her red hair was a wild mane, and Hermione wondered how on earth Ginny could look completely disheveled yet extremely beautiful at the same time. A pang of jealousy passed through her stomach.
Hermione closed her eyes. "I won't. I can handle anything."
"If you're so sure, then who am I to make you unhappy? What was it you told me last summer? Make myself happy? Don't let a boy make you waste your life? Hypocrite."
"Ginny!" Hermione whined. It was too early to be interrogated about her feelings. She hadn't had her tea yet.
"Hermione!" She mimicked. "You just have to tell me everything and I'll leave you to your hypocrisy."
Hermione opened her mouth several times, trying to come up with a decent response. "That isn't fair. The situation is different."
"Keep telling yourself that." Ginny said coolly.
"If I promise that I'll tell you everything later, will you let me go use the loo and get a cup of tea?"
Ginny's face faltered. "Okay. But if you start avoiding it later I'll hex you worse than I did Zacharias Smith."
"I swear that you spent too much time around your brothers as a child."
"Probably."
Hermione felt lighter than she had in days as the two walked down the stairs, light hearted banter passing back and forth between them. Honestly, Hermione was extremely glad to have Ginny around. The girl was witty and caught on to things much faster than Ronald or Harry ever did.
Though, Hermione wasn't so sure about the girl's temper. Ginny was known for her temper. It was the worst of the brood, only matched by Molly. Her stomach weaved, and Hermione wasn't so sure that she wanted to confide in the ginger. Of course Ginny would keep her secret but that didn't mean she would approve and not let out her opinion.
Ginny was truly the embodiment of a Gryffindor. Courageous, kind, loyal, honest, fierce. Hell, Ginny was even one of the smartest in her year. Hermione felt dull compared to her friend's red hair, gorgeous features and fire whiskey brown eyes. Hermione was dull. Her eyes were the color of soil. Her skin was darker, more tanned and lacked the vibrancy of Ginny's natural paleness.
"Mione," Ron's deep voice brought her out of her thoughts, beckoning her to the seat between him and Harry.
Hermione moved to the seat, content to be back by their sides. "Merlin's beard, Ronald. Can you not eat like a human being?"
Her eyes shifted from the faces of several gingers, and Harry and then to a cup of tea passed to her. When had she become so disconnected with her friends?
HPHPHPHP
"Now that you've got a bit of alcohol in your system, will you tell me what's up?" Blaise was currently sitting across from Draco, a half empty bottle of finely aged Fire whiskey in between them.
"Come on." Draco sipped at the brown liquid, shuddering at the burning as it passed through his throat. "There's nothing to talk about."
"Coward. You must be growing weak." Blaise mumbled. "I can read you easier than a first year Hufflepuff."
Draco just darted his gaze to the side, a look of sad contemplation passing his features. "Zabini. You said you found that Weaslette attractive at the Yule Ball last year?"
"Oh fuck," Blaise broke out into a stupid grin. "You like that little blood traitor don't you?"
"No, actually." Draco fiddled with his empty glace, suddenly trained on the few droplets in the bottom of the glass. "I know you didn't like her, but what is the difference?"
Blaise poured another glass for himself. "Of course you wouldn't like that fire cat."
"Blaise?"
"Oh right, right. Well, I don't know. Feelings I suppose? Sure some girl can be pretty, but that doesn't mean she makes your heart ache and speed up. That's the real difference."
Draco bit his lip, teeth digging into the soft flesh with thought. Granger did make his heart speed up, but that was just because she was the enemy, a Mudblood. Right? But he just couldn't make himself believe that.
Her eyes haunted him, pools of winter roasted chestnuts with rims of dark chocolate. Skin that was barely sun kissed and only brought out her complexion, not a single splotch of freckles or scarred place visibly in what he had seen of her. Everything down to the silly muggle clothes she wore on weekends made Draco do nothing but sit and mull over her after they met. It was probably because he was a teenage boy, and the soft material of her jumpers always clung to her breasts, and her jeans were slightly snug around the bum.
Blaise let out a laugh, suddenly. "You have it rough. You're completely taken with the witch aren't you?"
"No? I don't know who you're talking about."
"So there is a witch? Have you slept with her? Let me guess, she's some Ravenclaw with a nice arse who you can actually hold a conversation with, unlike people like Pans."
"Well, you have the conversation part right." Draco let his glass smack the table with a clink as he stood up and moved towards the door. "I haven't slept with her either. She'd hex my bollocks off if I tried anything."
"Some Gryffindor then?" At Draco's flinch, Blaise continued, "Bloody hell mate, I didn't think you had it in you. They're quite a luscious group aren't they?"
"Sure, Blaise."
Another tumbling laugh, "I bet you're thinking about her right now."
"I'm going to go eat before the elves stop serving breakfast. Thank bloody Merlin that it's Saturday." Draco scurried away from him, half drunk and flustered at how well Blaise knew him. It made him wonder if Blaise knew Occlumency.
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