Chapter Ten – My Blue Eyed Savior

It was Draco moving that woke her up. She glanced blearily at him from her half-awake state and mumbled some sound to indicate a question. Draco muttered 'bathroom' in return and slipped from the bed.

Hermione laid her head back down on the pillow, her eyes slipping closed. She felt happier than she'd been in a long time, she had to confess. The comforting warm fuzzy feel of after-sex sleep was wearing off though, and she began to slowly come to terms with what had happened. She lay on her side, her knees drawn up to her chest, her hands clutching the blankets gently under her chin. She could remember Draco's soft touches vividly, the way his eyes seemed so much darker than usual. How his breathing had finally become labored and how he'd moaned at the end. Those were the most vivid of memories to her.

She sighed melodiously when Draco crawled back in, his hand slinking around her to pull her closer to him.

Granger had been his everything for a long time. Been the only one who cared, who was there. And now she was his in another way. He gently kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes. Draco himself felt little to no regret at all about the way things had happened. He thought they'd turned out rather well, actually.

He traced his fingertips gently over her stomach, teasing at the soft curve of a breast, and finally stopping to rest his hand on her stomach. He had nothing to lose from this. He knew that Granger, on the other hand, had a lot to lose. He was impressed by her, he had to admit. She'd done something that he'd thought she'd been incapable of for a long time – she'd taken a chance. And on him, no less. He sighed and nudged her a bit.

Hermione rolled over at her nudging and stared at him, the sleepy feeling rolling away slowly. "Hm?' Draco didn't reply and instead leaned forward to kiss her gently, his lips lingering on hers.

"How're you?" His voice startled her – the sudden noise breaking the silence and the deepness of it. She blinked at him a little, and pulled away from his embrace, stretching.

"Good." If she was actually honest with herself, she'd admit that she was panicking a bit. She'd done it. She'd done the thing she told herself she wouldn't do, no matter what. She was still having issues accepting that she had in fact slept with Draco Malfoy. And beyond that, she was having issues accepting that she'd enjoyed it. All the feelings in her were crowding around, trying to burst out. Malfoy's eyes narrowed at her reply, though he didn't indicate out loud that he was having any issues with what she was claiming. Before he could ask her another question, she was out of the bed, fumbling with her clothing.

"I-I should get back. What if Oliver comes looking for me? What if Ginny needs something? What if something goes wrong?" The guilt came crashing down on her suddenly. Whether it was due to her guilt of sleeping with Malfoy, or just from the real actions she was taking, she couldn't tell. But she had to be there. It'd been a tough birth for Ginny, and she wasn't about to let all that work go to waste.

She swallowed hard as she pulled her shirt over her head, not meeting Draco's eyes as she grabbed her pants. Hermione knew his eyes were on her. Knew they were burning into her, asking questions that she didn't want to answer. Would she come back? Of course. She couldn't let anyone else bring him his meals now, anyhow. She brushed some hair back from her face, biting her lower lip as she glanced around, making sure she had everything she had brought with her. Finally, she dared to look at him. He was watching her, just as she'd thought he would be.

Draco looked away first. So that was how it was going to be. Rolling out of the bed slowly, he stood and stretched, his back to her. Not bothering to pay any attention to her, he walked into the bathroom, shut the door, and turned on the shower. When he got into the warm water, he turned it up. The heat seared his skin a little, but it was better than nothing. Sex that had finally meant something, and it'd been one-sided. He sighed, leaning his head against the shower wall, not admitting that he was crying. She'd come back. Granger had to come back.

There was nothing left for him if she didn't come back.

Blaise was up to trouble. Again. As usual. He'd packed a bag and pulled out his detective skills. He was a worthy Slytherin in his time, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let those skills go to waste. Not when Draco was on the line. His stomach rolled a little. What if he was dead..?

He'd religiously checked the parchment. He'd skipped meals, flaked for outings, done everything possible to stay as near to the spell as possible, hoping, and praying, that something would be given to him. And last night it had. It'd only given him an address – but that had been all he needed. He was on his way, and he was confident that even if he didn't find Draco, he'd find something that lead to him, wouldn't he?

Hermione exhaled as she pushed the book away from herself, sliding it across the table as she let out another tired sigh. What was wrong with her? It was like she had a double life – a new sort of 007. She snorted softly. As if anyone in this place would understand such a comment.



She hadn't come to terms with Malfoy yet. She'd dutifully brought him his food each day, never quiet meeting his eyes as she set the tray down before leaving.

Remus was still in a strangely delirious state from the almost sex overload he'd been receiving from her. When he'd brought up children, she'd shrugged it off, saying that such things took time. She'd neglected to tell him that she'd never really stopped taking her potions; at least not for more than a day or two.

Hermione wasn't ready for children. With the Malfoy thing, too… sex with Remus was such a denial, and Hermione knew it. She pushed hair from her eyes as she stretched, moving with an eerie grace between the precarious stacks of books, her PJs making a faint noise as she moved. Brushing the dust from her pants, Hermione made her way further into the mansion, leaving the library behind.

Winter had come suddenly.

For Ginny though, it had come slowly. It hadn't taken Hermione long to confirm what she'd suspected all along: Ginny was having twins. Fred and George were ecstatic, to say the least. Ginny's last month or so of pregnancy had caused a stir in the dead old house. The place was a buzz with excitement. Arthur, finally informed, was pleased as peas, though it was easy to tell he missed his wife sorely.

Hermione could relate to that.

Ever since she'd denied herself Draco's attention, she'd felt something in her stutter and steadily drown. Denial, as she'd found, was a rather stifling emotion.

Remus was out on a watch at the moment. They'd taken to patrolling the general area, hoping to catch and unsuspecting dark wizard on duty. Arthur was with him, since Oliver had been 'forced' to stay with Ginny instead of doing his nightly watch.

Hermione was exhausted. She felt like she'd just closed her eyes when frantic knocking caused her eyes to pop open. The building fairly shook from the sound of it. "Hermione! It's Oliver – Ginny – she-she-pain!"

Hermione bolted awake. She was stumbling out the door, a shirtless and barely coherent Oliver doggedly following her as she made her way calmly to Ginny's room. She was prepared – there was no need to worry.

Three and a half hours later, she was worried. It had been a hard labor, and neither of the twins had made it out yet. Arthur was worrying himself sick, going on and on as he paced about how Molly had never had any problems with the twins.

Hermione wiped her forehead, feeling a sickening swath of blood left behind. She gagged for a moment and swallowed hard. Ginny was so… petite. There was no way these babies could be coming out of her friend, this wonderful woman who she'd grown up with. It just wasn't feasible.

After all the blood, the hours of straining, Hermione got the breached child turned. A while later, Ginny's first daughter, Inara, was born.

Hermione hated the way Ginny's breathing hitched, the way she whimpered after each contraction. When Ginny had gone on about her baby's life over her own, Hermione had dismissed the idea. She would forfeit the child's life for her friend – she wouldn't live with herself any other way.

Finally, Annaliese was born, a lusty squeal announcing her arrival. Ginny held each before Hermione whisked them away, forcing tea and rest on her friend as Oliver got to meet his daughters. She knew it was possible they'd lose Ginny. She'd lost a lot of blood… trying not to think on it, Hermione washed the blood off her hands and arms. Ginny was keeping tea down, and she was breathing better. Oliver had agreed to do the last bit of cleanup, freeing Hermione from any more huge chores. For the time being, Oliver sat close to the bed, letting Inara and Annaliese tug at Ginny's fingers as she smiled weakly.

As her mind drifted, her feet moved her slowly along. It took her a moment to realize where she'd ended up. When she arrived though, she knew it was right. Life was precious, and oh-so-fragile.

And she was wasting hers.

Draco had barely registered the knock before his door opened. He had been asleep, but ever since he'd heard the baby cry (such a foreign sound to him), he'd been unable to return to such a peaceful existence.

So he was lying on his bed, book in hand, pale eyebrows arched at Hermione. He was shocked as it was – she didn't have food, and there was no other logical reason for her to be standing there. Not that Draco was complaining, not in the least. The few awkward moments as she'd dropped off his food had never satisfied any of his needs, other than the obvious hunger one.

Hermione met his eyes for a second before looking away again. The last month had been hell. Day, night, nothing mattered. Granger had cut him off from everything – her, life, being. The books had helped the solitude and monotony, but nothing had helped the loneliness that ate at him. He woke in cold sweats, his body rigid and his head full of… her.

And now here she was. He licked his lips nervously.



"I-I'm sorry." When Draco said nothing, Hermione took that as a sign to continue on. "I… took advantage of you, of our… situation. And I'm sorry." She opened her mouth to say something else, then closed it again, having found no sounds emerging.

Draco watched her, one eyebrow rising as he asked her curiously, "Just when did I give the impression I wasn't willing?"

Hermione felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. "You didn't need to. I had a responsibility and I failed."

Draco laughed sharply at her as he shook his head, setting the book on the bed. "Granger, I never do anything because I 'have to'."

Her blush deepened before her gaze turned into a scowl. "How do you manage to make me feel so stupid?"

Draco flashed her a fool hardy grin: "Pure charm and dazzle, darlin'." As he spoke, he moved closer to her, putting a hand of either side of her face, cupping her cheek and jaw as he delicately kissed her. With a sigh, Hermione leaned into him, muttering his name against his lips. I"ve missed you." His voice was low and warm next to her ear.

"I've missed you too."

There it was, a confession – out in the open where neither of them could ignore it.

Draco wanted to cry with happiness – she'd missed him. Enough to come back to him for at least a moment, to let him hold her… his arms wrapped around her waist, his palms flat against her back. The chaste and gentle kiss soon turned more passionate as Hermione slid her arms around his neck, clasping her fingers together at his nape. She'd said she'd missed him because it sounded right to say back. But if Hermione was to be completely truthful, she had missed him. She had ached to feel him up against her.

Even now, self-conscious in her PJs and all, she wanted him. She couldn't help but think that it was only because he was denied to her that she wanted him so badly. Forbidden fruit. But maybe… a small spark of romanticism in her wouldn't let the hope that it was something real die out.

Draco's fingers lifted off her shirt with the utmost care, treating her and the shirt as if they would shatter at any moment. Once the shirt was tossed away, his lips and fingertips traced softly over her skin.

Perfect, was all Draco could think. Her skin was soft, her cheeks faintly flushed, eyes closed partly as she moaned against him.

It seemed there were in a sea of clothing that finally changed to blankets, and eventually, bliss.

In the languid aftermath, Hermione thought her options over. How could she keep a man whom she cared about – loved, perhaps – in exile? No matter how much gold gilded the frame, a cage was still a cage; she knew that best of all.

The greedy, needful side of her considered it great. Here he was, whenever she wanted or needed him. Right where she could find him, no matter what.

But Hermione knew the guild would keep coming, worse and worse.

And Remus… she sighed, pulling from Draco's embrace. The situation was exactly the same as the last time. Just, this time around, she couldn't run and she couldn't let it pass.

Draco watched her leave with a cold sense of dread in his stomach. He knew she had to tend to the Weasley girl, and he knew she couldn't be gone too long without it becoming conspicuous.

But… he wanted her. More than anything. More than Blaise, even.

It didn't exist. Well, it couldn't, at least.

Blaise stood before the two houses, his eyes checking the paper and the building number. Frustrated, he lifted his pack over his shoulder and walked up to where the house should've been.

Muttering as he went, he didn't even realize as Remus snuck up behind him, the muttered hex garbled as he suddenly felt himself falling.

Then everything was black.

A/N: Hi. I'm alive. Here's an update. I bought a laptop. Should be updating now and then. Going to finish the five drunk fic thing to get my muse kicking into life. Welcome back to me!