Part XII: December:
Baby, Its Cold Outside, (But Colder Inside):
With the changing of the months, came the changing of the weather. The wet and soggy weather that accompanied November was nothing compared to the cold bitter snow that came as soon as the calendar changed. The snow started exactly on December 1, and by the fifth of December it was still snowing, with no signs of stopping. Hermione was sitting in the Library with Neville. He had asked her a question, but finally gave up, since she was not inclined to answer. She was staring off into space. She was thinking about Draco, and about the letters, and wondering if she did the right thing in breaking up with him. She had to find out who sent them, and why, and whether or not they really meant to harm her and Draco, or were they just threatening them. Maybe she should show someone the letters. She didn't know what to do. Neville continued to ask her questions, but still, she had not heard a thing he had asked.
She had plenty to do, homework in each subject, but she was easily distracted, with the only thing on her mind being Draco and those bloody letters, so instead of homework, she sat staring into space. Draco was staring as well, as he sat in the Library. Instead of staring into space, he was staring at Hermione Granger, trying to figure out what went so terribly wrong between them. She looked behind her, saw Draco staring, said something to Neville, and ran from the Library.
He followed her, but she was gone.
Everyone knew she had a falling out with Malfoy. They knew because Hermione and Draco were now avoiding each other at all cost. No, to rephrase that correctly, Hermione was avoiding Draco at all cost and he didn't know why. The only time they saw each other, or spent any time alone was when they had their Potions internship. It was during that time that the tension between them could be cut with a knife. They worked independently and usually at different tables. Draco had tried to talk to her several times, but she would get up and leave. He stopped trying.
While all the other eighth year students were preparing for the semester to end, Draco was dreading the upcoming holidays. He had nowhere to go for his Christmas break. He could go back to the Manor, but he would be just as alone there as he apparently was here. He couldn't understand what he did wrong with Granger, but he no longer cared. If she didn't 'like' him anymore, it was no bother to him. He could care less.
Hermione was also dreading the holidays. She had decided that she didn't want to go all the way to Australia, even though she missed her folks like mad. She had written to the Weasleys and asked them if she could come to the Burrow, and they of course said yes. Secretly, when she first decided not to go to Australia, she had thought she could stay at school and be with Draco, but now, she couldn't possibly do that, could she?
The notes stopped. Just like that. She stopped seeing Draco, and the notes stopped, leading her to believe that they originate within the very walls of Hogwarts. Well, she always assumed that, but now she was more convinced that they originated here with her fellow upper class men, here in this very corridor. That scared her more than she wished to admit. One day, she was crying alone in her room when Neville knocked on her door. He asked her what was wrong, and she finally told him. She had to confide in someone. He told her to go tell Draco. He said he knew Draco cared for her. She said she knew that too, but she had to find a way to stop the notes. Now that they stopped, she had to spend all her time and energy trying to find who had sent them. She felt Draco deserved that much. She asked for Neville's help, and he told her that of course he would help her. Neville told her that he thought Draco deserved the truth too, and if she didn't tell him soon, he would.
They had practical pre-exams coming up next week, and Hermione and Dean were in an empty classroom working on Charms. Draco started into the room, but as soon as he saw Hermione, he turned to leave. Dean said, "We're almost done in here, Malfoy, if you need the room."
Draco turned quickly and said, "I'll find another room, one that isn't full of Mudblood germs." He said it to be mean. He didn't really want to be mean, but the spitefulness just came out. Hermione looked about ready to cry. Good. She could cry a river of tears and drown in them, for all he cared.
"That's uncalled for, Malfoy," Dean berated. Draco decided to sit down and torment the pair some more. If he couldn't make her love him, he would make her hate him. He felt like this was the way it was supposed to be anyhow. People were supposed to hate him. He was vile, and odious, and said contemptible, detestable things to people, and in return, everyone hated him. He liked things like that. It's how it had always been. Why ruin a good thing? It was familiar to him.
"Sorry, Thomas, I forgot, you're a bastard, so we aren't even sure if you're a Mudblood or not." He put his legs up on the desk in front of him.
Dean looked ready to hit the former Slytherin, but Hermione held him back. She said, "Let's just go somewhere else," and she took his hand to lead him elsewhere.
"Listen to the Mudblood, Thomas, for she's always right, or at least, she thinks she is," he said, glaring at the two. Dean took another step toward Draco, but Hermione, who was still holding his hand, pulled him toward the door.
Draco sat upright, seeing their clasped hands, "Oh, I see, you dumped me for him, is that it? Is he your new boyfriend now, Granger?" He didn't really believe that, but he was still in a feisty mood. He turned to Dean and said, "You know, she wasn't very good in bed, I can't even give her that much, but I'm sure you aren't too picky, so enjoy my used goods."
"We never slept together, Malfoy, and you know that," Hermione berated.
"Don't lie to your new boyfriend, Granger. He has a right to know that he's dating a whore," Draco said. Even he felt he had crossed a line with that one. He was a bastard.
Before Dean could punch him, for that was what he was about to do, Hermione came up and hit him very hard with both her fists. She hit his chest with first one fist and then the other. She was yelling, "You're such a bastard! You're a bloody liar! All those notes I received, they were right, weren't they? You never cared for me! You only wanted to hurt me!"
He took both her wrists in his and said, "Stop hitting me, Granger. What notes? Have you gotten more notes? To what the bloody hell are you referring?"
Dean came up and pushed on Draco's chest, and tried to grab Hermione's hands out of Draco's hands. Draco turned to the other man and said, "I swear by all that's evil I will curse your arse if you don't leave us, now!"
Dean said, "I would never leave her alone with you."
Hermione was tired, more tired than she had remembered being her whole life. She turned to Dean, with her wrists still in Draco's vice like hold and said, "Leave us alone, Dean, he won't hurt me."
Dean glared at the pair and then said, "I'll be waiting out in the hall. Don't hurt her or say derogatory things to her, Malfoy." He left the room, slamming the door shut tight.
"Will you let go of me, please," she asked. "I won't leave."
"No, I don't think so. You're a liar now. If I let you go, you'll run away, even if you tell me you won't. Tell me about the fucking notes. Tell me what I've done to earn your hate, and then I'll let you go," he said slowly and deliberately.
She didn't know where to begin. She wanted to tell him, but she also wanted to try to find out who was behind the letters. She was trying to protect him, but she knew he wouldn't see it that way. What could she say?
Hermione started crying and fell against Draco's chest. "I just wanted it all to end," she said, "I thought if I stopped seeing you, I could make it end, and then I could figure out who hates you so much to do this to you. I just wanted to protect you, and this was the only way I knew how."
Draco was confused as hell. He didn't know what she was talking about, but he knew all along that she didn't hate him, anymore than he hated her. Should he embrace her? Should he hold her and tell her in hushed tones that all would turn out well? Should he tell her what was in his heart? Should he tell her that if he lost one more person that he loved, he might as well die? "Hermione, I love you."
He hadn't planned on saying that, but he couldn't take it back now.
At that moment, Neville Longbottom stood in the doorway, with Dean behind him. He had heard Hermione crying from out in the hall, and came in to see why. He heard Draco's admission. Hermione and Draco both turned their heads to look at him and he said, "Hermione, either you tell him, or I will. That's a promise."
"Tell me what?" Draco asked, looking first at Longbottom and then looking down at the girl still crying in his arms.
"Neville, I can't," she said, with her head now against Draco's chest.
"Then, like I said, I will." So, Neville Longbottom walked in the classroom, closed the door on poor Dean standing in the hallway, and told Draco Malfoy the real reason that Hermione Granger stopped seeing him. He even went and retrieved the notes from her room and showed them to Draco. Draco was very upset. Not only because she hadn't told him, but also because someone was tormenting her. He would make that person pay, possibly with their life.
Hermione sat down at one of the long tables, and rested her head on her arms. She was afraid to look up at Draco. He came and sat beside her, and put his head on her stooped shoulders. He said so softly, "That was a decent plan, but you should have told me. I'll help you find out who's behind all of this. We can stay enemies in public, and friends in private. See, little Gryffindor, you need my Slytherin mind, because you hadn't even thought of that, had you?"
She sat up and looked at him. "No, I hadn't. I guess you hadn't taught me everything you knew about deceiving people and lying," she joked. Draco smiled. Was she back? Was she really back?
"Yes, my little one," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder, "I have so many evil things to teach you, it might be fun." Hermione leaned into his embrace.
Neville said, "If we're going to fake hate each other, at least in public, there's no time like the present," and he opened the door back up, causing Draco and Hermione to jump out of their seats, and he yelled, for all to hear, "Draco Malfoy, you leave Hermione alone! She doesn't want to see you anymore! If I find you bothering her one more time, you'll have to answer to me! I'll give you a good thrashing!" Then he leaned back in the classroom and asked, "good, huh?" He winked and he walked out.
Draco scowled after he left. He was not going to stand for Longbottom yelling at him, pretend or not. He said, "We've created a monster, and his name's Neville Longbottom," and then he looked over to gauge Hermione's reaction, and she was smiling, so he would leave it alone, for now.
All the World's a Stage:
To the outside observer, Draco and Hermione were still at odds, still enemies. They didn't walk together, they didn't talk to each other, and they sat at opposite ends of the table during meals. However, during their Potions internship, or when they could find a hiding place away from prying eyes, they were once again a happy couple.
Hermione kind of liked "hiding" her relationship with Malfoy. It felt exhilarating. They decided that Hermione would stay behind during their Christmas break, not only to be with Draco, but because not one other eighth year students were staying behind. She would still pretend to go to the Burrow, like she had planned, but she would secretly stay behind. Hermione and Draco were going to do some investigating. Take advantage of the others being gone. Draco knew of a few other things he would like to do while the others were gone too, but he would mention these things to her later.
Their practical pre-exams went rather well. Hermione received all O's. Draco received all O's and one A. This week, they would have their written pre-exams. Hermione was just as confident that she would do well in those also. She knew if she had her N.E.W.T.S. that very moment, she would more than likely pass them all with flying colours. She was with some of the other eighth years in their common room when Dean came running in the room. He was out of breath, but he said, "I just heard from Professor Stephens, there's a blizzard coming, and the school is afraid that all the students will be stuck here for Christmas break, so they're letting classes out one week early. This Friday is our last day! Isn't that great, instead of a two week break, we will all get a three week break!"
Draco couldn't help but look over at Hermione. She took that moment to look up at him. They were both thinking the same thing. Three weeks. They would have three weeks together now, just the two of them, instead of just two. Hermione smiled and looked back down at the paper she was writing. Draco smiled and stood up to go to his room. He felt as if he had just been given an early Christmas present.
What they didn't realize, was that one other person in the common room noticed the sly exchange between the Muggle-born princess and the pureblood prince, and he wasn't happy about it, not one bit. He thought they were not together anymore, but he was wrong. Well, he would just have to go to plan 'B'.
The next day they had their pre-written exams in Potions, Herbology, and Transfiguration. Hermione was studying outside in the stables. She was waiting for Draco. He should have been there a half an hour ago. This was the third time they had met out here. It was cold, and windy, and the snow was falling fast, but Draco put a warming charm over the stall they studied in, and that combined with the hay, made for a cosy, warm, little den.
Hermione also put up a ward, to let them know if anyone approached the stables. That way, they could hide if need be.
She was starting to get worried. She went ahead and put on her outerwear, thinking she should go find him, when he ducked his head into the stall. "Hey, Granger, my oh my, don't you look pretty wearing that hat, scarf, and coat," he said.
"I was just getting ready to go find you," she admitted.
"Well, look no longer, I'm here," he announced. He walked into the stall, and took her hat off her head. He next removed her gloves, and then he started unbuttoning her coat. She didn't know what possessed her, but she happily stood by, pliant, allowing him to remove her things. If he wanted to go further, she wasn't sure she would stop him. When he reached the third button of her coat, the one over the swell of her breasts, he hesitated a moment, but then unbuttoned the button. He continued down the column of buttons, and then reached up, put his hands inside the top of each side of the coat, and slowly moved it down her arms, so it fell at her feet.
"Where are your books, I thought we were going to study?" she asked. She was an idiot, she thought. That's not what she wanted to ask. He smiled at her and came closer and situated both his arms around her.
"I am studying," he said. "I'm studying the human anatomy. Let's see, here, we have a forehead," and he kissed her forehead. Then he removed his coat so it fell next to hers. "Next, I believe this is called a cheek," and he placed a feathery soft kiss on her cheek. He kissed her mouth, almost too softly, and said, "That, my dear, is a mouth. I know that one well. It's one of my favourite parts of the human anatomy, and yours is an especially fine specimen."
She giggled and he continued. He took his long fingers and splayed them over her neck. She leaned her head to the side and he said, "Isn't this called a neck, I'm not sure," then he kissed her neck. He ran his tongue up to her ear and kissed her earlobe, and then put it in his mouth, and sucked, saying, "This is a eyebrow."
She laughed again, and said, "It's an earlobe."
"Oh, right, good thing you're so smart," he replied, licking the inside of her ear. He moved his hands slowly down her arms and said, "These two dangling things at the side of your body are called arms." He grasped both hands and brought them to his mouth, kissing each finger, saying between kisses, "these are your hands, and your finger," pausing for more kissing, "they're useful for so many things."
She thought she was going to melt. A fire had ignited in the lower section of her belly, and was now lighting its way throughout her entire nervous system. He put her hands down, and reached down to the bottom of her jumper and pulled it right over her head, and she did nothing to stop him.
He put his hands on her shoulders and said, "These are your shoulders, I know you're familiar with them, because they hold that massive head of yours up," and he kissed one shoulder and then the other. She still had on a long sleeve jersey knit shirt. It left nothing to the imagination, however. He walked behind her and as he walked, he put one index finger in the middle of her chest, and drew an imaginary line from her sternum, to her shoulder, to the middle of her back.
He traced the same finger down the long spinal column, and back up. She shivered. He leaned into her, his hard body next to her back, and kissed her shoulder again and said, "That my dear, is called a spine. Some people are lacking those, but not you." He took the same index finger from before and continued walking around her, this time starting with her back, and drawing a finger around to the other shoulder and ending at her chest again. He drew his jumper over his head and let it join hers on the floor. He stood there with only a white t-shirt on his upper torso. He wondered how far she would let this go. He would soon find out.
He dropped to his knees, and her eyes opened wide. What was he doing? He put both hands on her waist. His hands could almost touch each other, as they wrapped around her waist. "This is your waist, and these are your hips." His hands moved lower. They continued to move down her thighs. He continued, "These are your thighs, which I'm sure are milky white underneath these jeans." He moved his hands down to her calves and said, "These are your calves, which I must say, I have always admired, even in your white knee-socks." He stood back up and circled her body with his arms. He reached down her back, to the swell of her bum, letting it rest lightly over the curve, and said, "The proper name for his is a bum, I know that's a funny word, but you'll have to trust me on that." He looked at her face, to try to read her expression. She was biting her bottom lip so hard, he was afraid she would bruise it.
"Allow me," he said, putting his hand up to her mouth, and tracing his thumb over her lip before he bent his head, and he gently bit her lip, where she had just bitten. Her knees buckled. He decided to take advantage of her weak knees, and he gently laid her down on their coats. He sat down beside her and put his hand on her stomach, his other arm holding him up, so he was propped over her.
"This is your stomach. It's very flat, with a slight swell, here," and his hand moved slightly lower. He looked at her face, and her eyes were shut. He didn't know what that meant. He kissed her once more. He licked her lips, all around the edges, and then he put his tongue in her mouth, and sought out her tongue. He brought his head back up and said, "That was your sweet, sweet tongue. I really love your tongue," and he kissed her again. He was becoming so incredibly hard. He knew she could feel it on her hipbone.
She was having trouble breathing. She had never let a boy do these things to her before now. It felt wonderful and strange at the same time. She knew she should stop him, but she wanted to see what he would do next. She would stop him later, perhaps.
The Anatomy Lesson, Continued:
He stopped kissing her for a moment, his body reclined next to hers, and his eyes roamed to the swell of her breasts. She was breathing so hard, that each rise and fall of her breasts called his attention to their very existence. He took the hand that was still on her stomach, and walked his fingers up to the middle of her chest, making her giggle again. "Are we ticklish, Granger?" he laughed, momentarily forgetting his anatomy lesson, and tickling her ribs with his hand. She pulled her legs up to her body and laughed out loud. He smiled widely, but then stopped. It was time to continue.
He took just his index finger and traced a line under first her right breast, and then her left. "These are a wonderful creation, with so many uses, and they are called breasts," he said. Hermione was looking right at his face. He was looking at his finger. He cupped the left breast, and she drew in a sudden intake of air, that his attention was drawn immediately up to her face once more. He kissed her again, still cupping her breast, but not moving his hand, yet.
His hand started massaging her breast, and he said, "Has anyone ever touched you here?" He hoped she would say no, for that would be more exciting. She gave a negative answer, which was what he wanted, so he continued. He cupped the right breast, and put his thumb over the nipple and rubbed back and forth. Even through the layers of clothing and bra, he could tell her nipples were erect. He wanted to touch them, kiss them, and possess them. He started to move his hand under her shirt, while kissing her neck. He was almost to the right mound, when she put her hand over his and sat upright suddenly.
"I'm sorry, really, I am," she started mumbling, as she sought out her sweater. He took the sweater from her hand, and pushed her not too gently back onto her back. If she wasn't ready for that, he could wait. He would wait for her, forever. Hell, he had already told her he loved her. She had to know that was true. She, however, had not yet said it back to him. She wasn't ready for that yet, either, he assumed.
He put his hand on her shoulder to keep her down, and she actually looked terrified. He would mitigate her fears, at least for now. "Its okay, Granger, our anatomy lesson is almost over." He kissed her again, leaving his hand on her shoulder. He kissed her eyes, and then her nose, and then each cheek. He kissed her lips once more and then said, "I just have a thirst for knowledge, but if you think our lesson is complete for the day, then that's fine with me, I won't push you, but is there anything you would like to learn about the male anatomy? I would be pleased to accommodate you," he said with a most wicked grin. She couldn't help but smile. He pulled her over, so she was on his chest, and he on his back. She kissed him long and soft and had her hand on his chest.
"I might get back to you on that one, Malfoy," she laughed.
"When?" he asked.
"Seriously, you want me to tell you when?" she laughed again.
"Yes, I'm that kind of student. I'd like to put it in my daily planner. I'll call it, anatomy lesson number two, as this was number one,"
She put her head down on his chest and then brought it back up and looked at him and said, in all seriousness, "You know I'm a virgin, right?" She seemed so embarrassed, that she was blushing. He let her push away from him, and they both sat in the stall, side by side.
"I know that," he said quietly, playing with a piece of hay. He knew this was a hard conversation for her.
"I just wanted to make sure you knew that," she mumbled, looking at the ground. Why had she said that? Did she say it because she wanted him to leave her alone? Did she say it because she wanted him to do something about it?
"Granger, look at me," he pleaded, one finger under her chin. "I'll make you a deal. I know I already said that I love you, and I do, but when you're ready to tell me that you love me, that's when we'll continue this conversation, until then, we'll leave it alone, alright?" He stood up and offered his hand to her.
She looked at his feet, and seemed unaware of his outstretched hand. She said softly, "I thought I had told you." He sank back on his knees before her.
"Hermione, only two people have ever said they loved me, and they're both in prison right now, so I think I would remember if you had told me," he responded, looking her straight in the eyes, her hands still in his.
She got up on her knees and threw her arms around his neck, and said softly in his ear, "Draco Malfoy, I love you so much!" He couldn't contain his joy. He stood up, bringing her with him and he twirled her around in a circle.
"By golly, Granger, you should have told me that a long time ago," and he kissed her again.
"Do you want to have 'that' conversation now?" she asked pensively.
"No need, we have time to talk, you love me, and that's all that matters," he said, holding her close. Hermione Granger told Draco Malfoy she loved him, and the world didn't come to an end. Would wonders never cease?
