Bond
Chapter 4 by WickedDiSaster
Hermione remembers opening her eyes and being surrounded by water, but that's not what's crushing her. She knows the glimmer of hope she feels is not hers. She knows that need, she has felt it before, and she's glad she's in the water when the gravitating pull hits her, because she's not ready; she's not ready to face him yet.
As she's pulled out of the water, she's happy to see Harry and Ron and everyone. People are already wrapping her in blankets, cheering and spelling all their clothes dry, but while she's smiling and happy – as happy as she can be at least – her mind is elsewhere. She needs to go, she has to go, and she needs to do it now.
It takes her an eternity to reach her destination, and it doesn't stop surprising her where it's leading her. She opens the door to her dorm, wishing she weren't turning the knob as she did. She wishes she wasn't taking a step in, that she wasn't a second away of landing her eyes on him, because she's still petrified of what it will do to her. That is, until her eyes land on him.
He's curled on her bed, hugging her pillow and staining it with blood. His blood.
It's a scary petrifying sight, and he hasn't looked up yet. She's blown away by the amount of things he's feeling. He knows she's there, he's sorry for making her be there, he can't even let her go yet, and he's even standing up and picking up his broom, mounting it, and has he not seen the shards of broken glass sticking out of her windowpane? Has he forgotten he's still crushing her pillow against him?
He's trying to run, to be stronger than the force and leave, because she shouldn't be looking at him again. Because Potter didn't fail her, because somehow, he's brought her back. Because the last thing he can do now is be less of a bastard and keep her sane, for he knows that her friends have been keeping her sane for him; and he's messing it up again.
Despite the world of good that her presence does him, he remembers her fear, her wish not to be there, not to open the door, and he tries to be stronger than the pull.
She takes a hold of his wrist to stop him. It feels warm; it feels like sunlight on his skin, as if someone had just shed a ray of light in the black room that he lived in. She's alive, and touching him.
She is confused, she doesn't understand what he is doing there, she is at a loss of words. He's feeling so much, she doesn't understand what he's doing, because God knows she did not want to be here. God knows he had to need her there! So she doesn't get why he is trying to run away.
She pushes him off the broom and has him seated on her bed. He is like a marionette in her hands. She knows what her presence does to him, and yet the raw weight of everything is still crushing him. She breaks the silence, because all she can think of is, 'Has he just realised what he's done? Has he just taken in the guilt of what he did to me?'
"Is that why it took you this long to come look for me?" she voices, and he realises that she doesn't know. The pain she felt blocked him out of the picture, and whatever heaven she just came back from, she "didn't" feel him. She doesn't know he couldn't find her. She doesn't know how scared he was, she doesn't know how she just gave him back his sanity.
When he looks up to her, she's glaring at him, arms crossed over her chest, a closed look upon her features; she's staring right at him, right through him.
He smiles, the first smile he's given in months.
She doesn't know what to make of it; why is he glad? She doesn't know where that relief comes from. She just knows it's there, and it makes her want to lash out; yet, he stops her.
He's hugging her, and it's the way he's hugging her that blows her off her course.
He's holding her against his chest, breathing in her hair, caressing her back. It's all too chaste to be a hug from Draco. She wants to look up and see if he is possessed, but he pushes her back first.
He is holding her face as if she is made of porcelain, and the sheer adoration she sees in his eyes revives her pain. It is only when he has marred her face with his blood that he takes notice of his cuts, right when he sees the flicker of hurt in her eyes.
"I'm not good for you," he says, and the definite tone in his voice scares the living daylights out of her.
He surprises her by smiling when he feels the pull. "Whenever you need me, love," he whispers, "wherever you are," he kisses her hands, "until the day I die"; he lets her go.
She's too confused to react, he's holding his wand, fixing her window, apologising for the mess, summoning another pillow, and pocketing the shrunk one he still held in his robes. He vanishes the bloodstains he's left on her covers, and casts a glamour on the ones on his robes; something that almost escaped her notice in her disconcerted state.
Almost, being the keyword.
He feels her irritation, cracking another smile, "It's just some scratches," he says. "I'll get a shower as soon as I get back."
She wants to laugh, but opts for waiting until he realises he is not going anywhere; he is not going anywhere for the same reason she was forced here in the first place. She doesn't like the word need, she prefers to think she's not done with him yet. He interrupts her thoughts, nevertheless.
"I'll go blend in your curtains before your roommates arrive," he starts, and she knows he's right, she knows that the first thing her roommates will want to do is change their clothes, and she now needs him gone. She snaps at him. "You didn't seem to mind if they arrived before I came."
His smirk still has a ghost of a smile in it. "I still don't, but I thought you would."
She knows he meant to say he knew she would mind, but he's already hugging her goodbye, and before she can push his arms away, he's turned serious once more and says something that stops her train of thought, baffling her again.
"You chose right," he says, "he" – he shakes his head, and corrects himself – "they, they will keep you safe," and he kisses her forehead.
"This isn't over," she says, and is disgusted by how it doesn't come out as harsh as she would have liked.
"You can't imagine how elated that makes me."
He's out the window, and she wants to squash the butterflies in her stomach with a blasting curse.
It's not hours into the night that she finally understands what his statement really meant. He is letting go of her; and she starts to hyperventilate, yet not five minutes pass before he's outside her window.
She lets him in, and he places her back in bed, draws her curtains shut, and casts a silencing charm before she cracks up and sobs like there is no tomorrow.
He doesn't say anything, he just kisses her, and the sheer power of the kiss makes her draw a breath. The sheer adoration of every one of his touches makes her take in the moment. "Whenever you need me, love," he whispers again, "wherever you are," he continues, "until the day I die."
He's kissing her temple, and holding her as if he didn't have a right to hold her. It's the sadness with which he brands every calming caress that makes her snap.
She draws away from him and pushes him back. She looks him down with eyes full of unshed tears and sneers at him. "You," she says, "you haven't apologised."
He lets her draw away, he lets her breathe in, lets her drink in her fury, because she has every right to it.
"Well... out with it!" she growls.
He looks up, she is crossing her arms, bathed in tears, red in the face; and he wishes he could feel more of her fury before he answers. "There is not an apology for what I did to you, Hermione. It's just too wrong, love. I am wr-"
"Don't you dare say it!" She hits him, "Don't you dare say it, you rotten bastard!" She sobs in his chest. "You are not wrong for me!"
He shushes her, holds her. "I'm sorry I had to hurt you in order for me to understand. I'm just too much of an arse, I guess."
"Shut up!" she screams. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! You are not leaving me!"
"Never," he whispers in a calming, soothing tone, "never."
She breathes in, the way he likes her to do it, like drawing strength from him, like finding peace. "You should know I'm not as strong, Hermione."
Her chuckle feels bittersweet, "Thank God for small mercies."
"When the time comes, love, I want you to forget what you said to me at the Manor. I don't want you by my side until the end of time, I want you happy until the end of time; you hear me? I want you happy, I want you at peace; I want you whole. I don't want you to come for me. When you can no longer find me, Hermione, I want you to find piece with whoever makes you happier."
She chuckles. "When I can no longer find you, Draco," she solemnly swears, as if she'd first see Voldemort dancing the conga.
"I will always want you, Hermione. I will always need you, love. But there is nothing, nothing you hear me, that I want more than to know you are whole, safe, and sound."
"When the time comes," he continues, "I want you to remember my priorities. In my world, you are prey, Hermione, and I am a liability. I hurt the people around me, Hermione, that's what I do best. I am not a protector, I'm a hunter; I cause pain."
"I don't need protection, Draco. You are not my babysitter; that is fine."
"But I do, I need you safe, sound. Alive. I want you happy."
"You make me happy."
He raised an eyebrow with the shadow of sarcastic chuckle.
"So you are not a ray of sunshine all the time, Draco. Nobody is."
"You deserve better."
"It's my choice. I choose you. It's always been you-"
"You never chose me, Hermione, I was the hand you were dealt. It's not fair to you."
"I would never have it any other way. I felt blessed with you, I never questioned why. I never regretted having you. You can never leave me, Draco Malfoy."
"I– he exhaled, exasperated – I said I never would. You will always have me, Hermione. I will always be yours. But you, you have to get something better, someone as loyal as you, someone you don't have to hide, someone who-"
The slap to his face didn't surprise him. "You – she hissed, nauseated- who the hell do you think you are? Who do you think I am?!"
"I cheated on you," he breathed calmly.
"And you want me to come down to your level?" she spat in indignation.
"Wouldn't dream of it, you are just too stubborn for your own good; but you deserve better than me, damn it!"
Another slap. "That was never your call, you bloody bastard! You never-"
He flattened her against the bed, hands around her head, a thumb on her lips. He closed his eyes. "I am setting you free, I am letting you go; Sweet Circe, Hermione, I am telling you to go and opt for one of the long list of better suitors waiting for you. You-"
"Screw you!" she roared in his face, "I never asked to be free of you! I don't want you to let me go! You can't get rid of me that easily!" She had pushed him off her, and was sobbing and screaming at the top of her lungs, pressing on his chest.
"You never asked, Hermione; you needed to be rid of me."
"Shut up!" she snapped at him, "You don't know what you are talking about! You are just being a stupid, stupid arse, like you always are." He could hear her voice start to break. "Well, I don't care! You can go fuck all the pureblood whores you want, you won't ever leave me!" She wiped her tears with a furious movement of her wrist. "Because I know, Draco, I know how I make you feel, I know what makes you tick, I know all your layers, I know all your sins, and I know you belong to me!"
She was a mess of tears, yelps and heart-wrenching sobs when he whispered, "I didn't say I was going to go get myself a whore, Hermione. There's no one in this world that could compare to you. I wouldn't dream of it."
"God, Draco, I should go and do it, just to spurn you. I should go and let you have a taste of your own medicine. I should shut your mouth, and your stupid advices, just to teach you," she sobbed even more. "I can't, Draco, I don't want to. Even if I could hurt you like that, there is no one in the world I could want the way I want you. What? You just expected me to kiss someone's lips, to hold hands with them – she wept, cleaning the tears from her eyes trying to cover her disgust – and what, feel the same?" She let go, realising for the first time that he had, he had done exactly that, he had been able to kiss someone's lips, without the nausea, without the mere thought of it making him want to crawl out of his skin. He had done it, and it carved another dent in her already shattered heart.
Her knees gave out, her whole body felt too heavy to support it. "I can't," she whispered. "I couldn't even if I wanted to."
He gave a mirthless laugh and went to her. "I've done it again, see?" He held her close. "I didn't want her; I didn't enjoy it, Hermione. I was just getting the job done." He cleaned her tear-stained face with his thumb. "When it comes to you, I could kill, maim, or do it with a Blast-Ended Skrewt if it came to it." She half smiled between her tears. "I'm a deranged soul, I break things, Hermione; when I feel cornered, I snap." He held her head up, to look at her. "I just thought you would be different, you have loved other people. You have a heart big enough to hold the world in it. I thought you could-"
"You thought I could snog Harry?" she snorted, "As much as you can snog your own mother, Draco."
"It's just you, Hermione. For me, it's just you. I love you. I cherish you. I just have you. Everyone else, I could live without."
"That is why you freaked out."
He gulped through clenched jaws. "I was afraid, I thought you should learn; I wanted even ground again. I wanted to make you think you could lose me too."
"You are never getting rid of me."
"I know better now."
"You know shit, Malfoy; you don't know what's best for me. It's not your choice. It was never up to you."
"I know what I want, and what I need. Don't underestimate me on this, Hermione."
"Do as you please, I can take it."
"I know you can," he stated, and kissed her, long and hard. He took her with all his might, with all his heart; he took her whole. He absorbed her soul. He drank her essence in that one act where he could be complete and make her complete.
He held her through the night, without batting an eye. He was the first thing she saw when she woke up, and he relished in the peace the sight of him gave her.
She made him come many other nights following that one, she made him stay throughout the night in every single one of them, and had him find her in his quarters on even more occasions.
