A Feeling like Emptiness [a fair warning, parts of this chapter will suck but it is important so if you could just ignore the suck…]
Chapter Four: Where do we go from here?
As Draco and Blaise left their "gentleman's club," both wondering how they were going to apparate home completely rat arsed, Draco had the brilliant idea that they should sober up with some nice hot coffee. Blaise agreed, not wanting to splinch anything off, and the two twenty-three year olds stumbled down the still busy streets of Birmingham.
It was around one in the morning which meant that they had spent the last three hours or so staring at half-naked danseurs. Normally Blaise would only stay for an hour and a half but tonight he was on a mission. He planned on teaching Draco how to live even if it cost him his own life. The way he figured it, Draco had gone from a miserable life at home with his parents to a soon-to-be miserable marriage. Blaise knew his friend wasn't ready for a family and the awful repercussions that come with it: diaper changes, feeding times, nights without sleep, mad little buggers who refuse to listen to you and piss on your floors… It was too much for Blaise and he knew as his friend that it would be too much for Draco. In his drunken thought he nearly passed the shop and had to be dragged by Draco into a seat.
They sat at a two seat table and called a waitress over. The waitress seemed regretful to serve them as the stench of alcohol on them was clear from at least mile away. She had a petit figure with light blonde strands in a dark brunette mess and her skin was pure porcelain. She stopped smacking her large piece of cinnamon flavoured gum and pulled out her ordering notepad from an apron pocket in a practiced manner.
"Can I help you boys tonight?" she whined out at them, keeping her distance.
"Two coffees, sweet cheeks, black as night if you don't mind," Blaise demanded as he made several failed attempts to grab the waitress's backside and squeeze.
She disappeared writing their order down. Draco was holding his head in his left hand trying not to laugh at his clearly delusional Slytherin comrade. "I needed this Blaise. After all that's happened I forgot about myself. Instead of trying to repair my sullied reputation after the war I was trying to fix the Malfoy image. Did you know that Malfoy or 'mal foi' means bad faith in French? Angel told me that. I reckon I was cursed from the start."
"Nonsense Draco, just pure nonsense. You were not cursed, you were given every luxury and the estate had every refinement you could have ever imagined. You're very lucky."
"Yes, but at what cost? I should have had a break before settling down. What the bloody hell was going through my mind? Why didn't you stop me?"
The coffee arrived and the boys wasted no time sipping gluttonously at the deep dark concoction, whispering cooling charms as to not burn their tongues. There was a soft mull of chatter in the shop and it was full of half drunken slobs just like they had been. Out on the street were a few girls in short dresses running around looking like fools. Blaise looked around and chuckled causing Draco gave him a strange look.
"I mean it Blaise," he continued looking more stressed than he had at the beginning of the night. "Why did I marry her?"
"Because she's smart, elegant, beautiful, cunning, dainty, French, and need I go on? Oh and not to mention, she's the perfect lady Malfoy," said Blaise in an obscure and sarcastic tone.
Draco sighed and looked inside his mug. He secretly transfigured the napkin in his hand for which he used to wipe his forehead sweat into a baby tea leaf. He placed the leaf in his coffee and watched it solemnly as it floated like a free swan on murky midnight waters. It all seemed to be going downhill for him now: he had fallen near into love with a pole dancer, his marriage falling apart before it had even really started, and to top it all off he had a killer headache.
"I love her."
"I don't doubt that. You were together for three years before you asked for her hand; you care about her or you wouldn't have stayed around, yeah?" Blaise had Draco exactly where he wanted him. It was too easy to get him here too. If he had known that one great dancer and a few drinks could have gotten the man regretting his marriage he would have done it the night before the wedding instead of wallowing in self-pity for marrying a money whore. "Look Draco, stay in this. It's the right thing to do."
Draco sighed again and stared at the tea leaf. Because he lost focus it had turned back into a napkin. "My coffee's ruined," he scoffed. He turned his head and began to stare out the window and what he saw shocked him beyond belief. Right across the silent street of Birmingham was Hermione Granger and some blonde fellow, well not as blonde as he was but still blonde. Not only did it appall him that one of his hands was on her arse and the other was wrapped around her waist.
Draco's eyes grew wide with an emotion he could not immediately identify, which worried him immensely. The man began to caress Granger's face and whisper in her ear. Draco watched them not knowing how it made him feel to see her giggle at every word he said a blush madly when he touched her. It pained him actually and he made it known by grunting in an odd sort of way.
"What's wrong?" Blaise asked tuning Draco back in.
"I just… It's nothing, I was clearing my throat."
He peered out the window again just as the man slipped his tongue into her mouth ferociously and the look on her face let Draco know just how much she was enjoying the attention. The man looked so familiar but he couldn't place a name to the face he saw.
"You all right, Draco? You look paler than usual."
"I told you I'm fine," he said curtly, getting a bit flustered. "Should we go? I'm feeling well enough that you could side along."
"Sure, let's go. It's getting late anyway." Blaise left a small tip on the table before walking into the alley next to the shop and apparating to the Zabini Residence.
…
Hermione and Nigel stepped out of the club together wrapped in each other's arms, leaving no amount of skin untouched, and caressing ever pleasure point the other had to offer. The street seemed to be empty to the two of them as Nigel's hands went up and down Hermione's body with such vigor and lustfulness. Her insides began to tingle and burn so intensely that it forced her to stop and stare into his eyes, pleading for a truce or some kind of mercy.
"Nigel…"
"All right, all right, your place or mine?"
"Mine. Hang on to my waist?"
"Not a problem," he said, slick smile forming at the side of his mouth.
He placed both arms around her hips for a second time that night as they apparated at the gate of Hermione and Harry's home. She instructed Nigel to move quietly by putting her index finger in the middle of her lips which, in Nigel's opinion, were in desperate need for a good kissing. He held out his hand mouthed the word "key" to her, admiring her delicate hands as she handed it over.
Then in one swift movement he lifted her from off of the ground and held her bride style to her front door, giving her small sweet kisses on the way. He then placed the key in the lock and let her down. They tiptoed past Harry's room as quietly as humanly possible for his door was wide open, and an attempt to close it would have been more dangerous than walking normally. Once the two were safe and sound in Hermione's room, she saw no point in wasting any more time and forced their lips to crash together. She pulled him toward the bed and quickly began shedding her tight clothing but slowly shed her lacy thin knickers and kicked them across the room, giving Nigel a most seductive look, urging him to come closer.
"Hermione…"
"We can talk later, now I want you, bad." She made a grab for his jean button and pulled down his zipper while simultaneously kissing his neck. Once she noticed that he wasn't doing anything about her completely naked body she stopped, putting her arms up in the air in defeat.
"What's wrong?" she asked sounding a little irritated. Hermione hated being the sole contributor in any relationship and didn't like where this one was going so far. Here she was throwing herself at this near back from the dead stranger and he was showing absolutely no signs of wanting to do anything with her. She sat on the bed and looked down, a lone tear forming and threatening to drop.
"Don't get me wrong I'm completely into this. It's just… there's something that I have to say. It might come as a total shock to you but you must swear on your life that you will not hurt me too much?"
Hermione's face looked more confused than ever now and she crossed her arms to cover her hardening nipples and pulled the sheet on her bed over her exposed legs. "I won't do anything I swear, just get it out already." She seemed to be letting her horniness get the better of her.
"I… I know now you think that I'm someone you used to know… and while that's still true as of this moment, I'm not the person you used to know that I told you I was and you thought I was back in the club," Nigel stammered out.
Hermione's eyebrow's both raised in an attempt to understand what he was saying to her. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I'm not Nigel!" he blurted out. "I'm not really Nigel…"
"'Not really Nigel' meaning you've changed these last five years?" she asked with an odd amount of hope.
"No. I'm not Nigel at all. That Nigel Wespurt fellow really is dead, I just… I wanted you back then, at the club. And I knew If I told you my name you'd probably never sleep with me or you'd think any intention I had of sleeping with you would only have been out of greed or lust. It's not that way at all though but I knew you might see it that way so I lied."
Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. He had lied about who he was? He wasn't sweet adorable Nigel whom she had been delighted in knowing he was still alive? "Just who are you?" The look of hurt and confusion in her eyes increased, making it harder for her to resist crying.
"I'm Terrence Higgs…" he said shamefully.
"Why…" Terrence Higgs, Terrence Higgs…? Where have I heard that name before? I know he went to Hogwarts. He had to have or he couldn't have known about Nigel's death. "Why did you lie Nig– Terrence? Why couldn't you just tell me what your real name was?"
"Because I didn't think you would ever sleep with me. I was in Slytherin, on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts. Mind you I did play fair unlike a lot of the other players, but I just figured you were the kind of girl who would take school grudges with her when she left."
She pointed to the bottle on her dresser marked "Veriteserum" and motioned that he drink it with a most convincing stare. He drank it quick, expected something far more dangerous than a simple truth potion. "And why would I do that? Have you ever called me a mudblood or made fun of my blood status in anyway?"
"No but –"
"Have you ever done anything to me or Harry or Ron that would have interfered with the defeat of Voldemort?"
"NO! But I –"
"Did you ever throw an unforgivable spell my way or in the direction of anyone I call my friend?"
"No…"
"Then why on earth would you think that I would hold such silly adolescent rivalries so closely after all these years? Have you done anything in any way that would hurt me or convince me not to be with you?"
He sighed glumly setback a tad. "No, Hermione. I only figured that, well I might have had a better chance with you if I was in Gryffindor."
"You shouldn't have gotten my hopes up by falsely bringing someone back to life… And you most definitely shouldn't have thought that I would be so shallow as to only date within Gryffindor."
"Hermione I –"
"I still don't understand how a person could stoop so low…"
"I love you."
His statement caused Hermione's head to shoot up and her heart skipped more than just a few beats. Her hands became clammy and her head began to hurt. "You must be joking…"
"Please," Terrence begged, a puppy dog look lingering in his dark brown eyes. "I love you, really I do. There's no mistaking it…"
Hermione was ready to jump off the nearest bridge and started to apparate there when she remembered that he was telling the complete truth. "You love me? How? How can you say that to me? Do you know anything about me? Have we ever really met before?"
"I know I know it sounds insane but it's true. I'm in love with you and I have been ever since the start of first year. I might sound mad here but I would spend hours in the library just watching you study. The only reason I went back to Hogwarts to get my N.E. was so that I could be near you! Every year at Quidditch matches, after I didn't make the team again I would go just to see you, not even to watch the games. I dressed up as a Gryffindor so I could be in their stands and be close to you, I sat as close to you as I could in Potions while still staying on the Slytherin side, no matter what I did I wasn't close enough. Pretending to be Nigel was a last desperate attempt to be with you, and you were so excited when I told you I was him I just didn't correct myself. The look in your eyes was almost dreamlike; I didn't want to take it away. Give me a chance to be with you, please!"
Hermione's eyes were opened all wide in amazement. It was rare that she found herself at a loss for words but this moment had been one of the strangest she had ever gone through. She looked at him for a few seconds more before putting her head down again, sighing like an old lady with a last breath. "Terrence… You're dedication is quite admirable, and no, you didn't sound mad just a wee bit on the stalker side, but I'm afraid of what will happen if we let ourselves do this to each other. I don't mean to put you off but –"
"But what? You had no problem sleeping with me when I was Nigel."
"I knew him a bit more than I know you!"
"How much more? You might have known him more, had more legitimate conversations with him, you may have even liked the thought of sleeping with him more but he will have never loved you as much as I do!" He sat down next to her on her bed and put an arm around her shoulder. "I love you really. More than anyone anywhere."
"You know Terrence," she started to say as she leaned into his chest, forgetting every word Ginny had said to her that night. "It's amazing that Harry is still asleep through all of our shouting…"
"I put a silencing charm on your room before we started snogging."
"Cleaver," she said honestly. I must have forgotten."
"So… what do we do now?"
"What do you mean?" she hummed out.
"Where do we go from here I mean. Please don't say we'll be taking things slow, I will absolutely lose it if you say that."
She smiled up at him sincerely and snuggled into him further. "How about you get one more goodnight kiss and I'll apparate to your place to see you off, then I'll give you my decision in the morning?" She felt bad about what she was doing and how she had led him on but he had lied to her. Yes, it was admirable that he told the truth before anything real happened, but Hermione had set her hopes on a dead man and didn't want to end up thinking of him.
"This will be the last time I'll see you ever, isn't it?" he sighed looking down at her.
"No! No I promise it won't be. I just need to gain some perspective? I know that sounds like an excuse but I really do mean it; I won't leave you hanging off of a thread without an answer."
"So I have to go home…? I shouldn't have blurted out a confession like that. That was stupid wasn't it?" Terrence sounded so pitiful and lonely. He stood to walk towards the door, hanging his jacket over his shoulder and slightly shuffling his feet.
Hermione bit the nail of her index finger and scrunched her eyebrows together. "Wait," she said meekly. "Don't go yet. You can, you – you can sleep on the couch and for now and, oh wait no that will never work. I'll sleep on the couch tonight and you stay in here so Harry won't see and –"
"What's the problem if he sees me? Okay never mind, I know that was an idiotic question."
She shook her head and continued. "So stay in here 'til morning, just until I can make a proper decision."
"Sounds like a plan," he said handing her a blanket a pillow. "I hate to put you out like this."
She smiled and took the bedding. "It's worth it," Hermione said, giving him a kiss on the cheek goodnight.
…
Draco awoke with a slight headache and hunger so fierce it felt as though it would tore straight through his stomach if he didn't find something to eat and fast. He pushed the black plush comforter that kept him cozy during the night off of his brawny and muscular, hairy legs and sat up in bed. The rising sun wasted no time in blasting through the windows nearly blinding Draco, and in his rush to get out of the sun's warm and welcoming embrace, he stubbed his toe on the nightstand table and crashed his knee into the dresser, forcing him into the ground raging with pain.
He sucked air through his teeth for more than a minute and stumbled his way up over to the door, breathing deeply to stop the hurt as quickly as possible. His morning routine in the bathroom went on a little differently than usual. He felt like something inside of him was being torn multiple ways. Like an imaginary Cruciatus Curse was being cast directly to his liver, spleen, lungs, and his heart. Draco held his stomach with his right hand and stared into the bathroom's wide mirror with grand silver frame.
"What has become of me?"
He sauntered up the stairs in grinding pain and took steps slow his weight was shifting down to his shin, making it all the harder to actually walk. This is so pointless. Why is this happening? He thought as he struggled desperately to get to the main floor.
Upon reaching the top of the stairs he took a deep long breath and stood up straight. A few antagonizing steps later he was in the Zabini Parlor and getting ready to contact his beloved wife via fireplace. Just the thought of hearing her heavenly voice made the pain subside away a little. He sat in front of the fire and waited for her to answer. There's only a slim chance that she would be in the parlor as well but he had to try. It was getting to him, being patient. He waited and waited and waited but to no avail. She did not answer to his calls and his insides began to feel like they were burning.
He had had enough of suffering for no reason and dashed, as fast as he could, to the kitchen to down a sleeping draught.
If I can just stay asleep maybe this torture will stop. Draco manically searched the cupboards and cabinets for the bottle, a bulky jar that was at least half empty with a dark brown liquid lingering inside. Draco hurried down the steps with it and laid down in bed, swallowing all that remained in the cracked container. Seconds later he was asleep once more, a blissful look on his face.
…