Chapter Twelve
"Draco?"
"Yes, love?"
"We're really good at this. Like, exceptionally good." I roll over to face him on my bed. He stares up at my ceiling, naked, casually puffing on a hand rolled fag.
"I think I have to agree with you there, Granger." He smirks and inhales another wisp of smoke.
'It's true. We are uncommonly great at shagging each others brains out.'
"Do you think we'll ever get bored of this? Do you think it will eventually stop being this good?" I wonder idly.
He exhales a gust of grey smoke and finally turns to me. "I love you way too much to ever get tired of making you come. Looks like you're going to be stuck with me for a while, dear." He grins and puts out his fag on the wood of my bedside table, leaving a circular scorch.
I stare at his dark mark as he relaxes back into the pillow. It's still quite black and has yet to fade even a little. Its so fittingly harsh against his velvety, porcelain skin. I reach out to run my hand across it. He flinches and catches my arm. I sit up, bare breasted and take in his pained features.
"You cannot hide from it, Draco. And you cannot hide it from me. I'm not blind." I grip his marked arm firmly.
"I'm not hiding. Just ignoring. Do you really want to get into this right now? It's Saturday. We're supposed to be relaxing." He says calmly but I see the plea in his metallic eyes.
"I don't want to talk about it any more than you do. But we have to. We can't keep avoiding this discussion." I release his arm and brush his disheveled hair back with my fingers. He closes his eyes and takes a breath.
"Fine. Let's get this out of the way then. What do you want to know?" His eyes stay closed but his brow pulls together as he waits.
"Did it hurt? Being marked, that is." I go for an easier question first.
"Yes. It was fucking excruciating. I passed out from the pain immediately after the Dark Lord finished the spell." He clips bitterly. I nod at the confession.
"I thought so. And you were marked before you became a spy for the Order." It's not a question but I let him elaborate.
"I did what I had to do to survive. You know that. I didn't want the bloody thing if that's what you're insinuating." He grinds out, eyes open again.
I shake my head. "That's not what I was trying to say, Draco. I know you didn't want it. I was just letting you confirm what I already know. It was during sixth year, wasn't it?" He nods stiffly.
"So when exactly did you realize you were on the wrong side of the war?" I daringly ask. His expression goes slack. He looks tired and many years older. Like one who's seen too much.
"It was during my initiation. I won't say anymore of it. I don't wish to relive that memory. But know I was never completely sold on the pureblood ideals. It took only a glimpse into what they were really about for me to turn away from that... lifestyle. When Severus contacted me about becoming a possible spy, I all but jumped at the opportunity. At that point I was ready to do anything to see the Dark Lord fail."
"Had you always been close with Snape?" I ask him.
"Somewhat. I suppose I was the only one he was ever close with. We had an understanding about things. And I think he knew early on that I could never follow in my father's footsteps. Said I had too much of my mother in me..." He smiles nostalgically and looks far away for a moment.
"You miss him." I state neutrally.
He refocuses his gaze on me and answers softly. "We all miss somebody."
'How very true.' My eyes begin to water and I turn away from him to look out the window at the bleeding colors of the sunset.
"What fucked up lives we have. We were too young to experience such a degree of loss. To be thrown into war. To have to make the choices we made. Sometimes I wonder what the hell Dumbledore was thinking when he got Harry and us involved in all of it." I say tiredly.
I tear escapes my eye and Draco sits up to embrace me gingerly. "At times, I think we were destined to suffer the way we did. That our births were timed rather unfortunately. And that Dumbledore did all he could for us while he was alive." He chuckles and continues. "Can you believe I'm defending that crazy old bat? Me. Draco Malfoy, defending the actions of Albus Dumbledore. What has the world come to?" He shakes his head, unbelieving.
I wipe my eyes and laugh against his bare chest. "Maybe that was his plan all along. To have a Malfoy defend him in death. Who really knows? He was a complicated man." He stiffens at my comment and I know why.
"Stop, Draco. In the end, you didn't kill him. That makes all the difference. I promise. You were thrown into an impossible situation. I don't blame you for any of it. So quit it with the self-loathing crap." I demand evenly.
His muscles relax again and he exhales a long held breath. "I don't know what I did to deserve you but I thank Salazar every day that you're mine."
I don't answer him as I trace my fingers over his strong collar bone. I suspect he doesn't need an answer anyways. I hum softly as I think of more questions to get out of the way.
"Oh! Um... Who taught you wandless magic?" I ask him hesitantly.
He snorts, not surprised in the least that I'd want to know. "I think you know the answer to that. Dear old Aunt Bella, of course. She would have been a fantastic teacher were she not so entirely demented. I learned many things from her. All the dark magic I know came from her. And... I- I'm sorry I couldn't intervene when she was torturing you. My position as a spy would have been in jeopardy had I tried to stop her. I can't believe you lot were bloody stupid enough to get yourselves captured."
"I know... I understand. It's enough that you were spying for the Order. You didn't have the luxury of helping us at the time. And yes, it was so idiotic getting captured. But guess who's fault that was? Ronald's. He said Voldemort's name while there was a trace on it. Bloody moron." I finish tightly.
Draco snickers. "I should have know it was all the weasel's fault." He's quiet for a moment, thinking on something of regret, I assume from his expression.
"I hate what Bellatrix did to you... Let me see your scar. I've never properly looked at it before."
I clear my throat and nervously offer my forearm to him. He lightly slides his thumb over the scarred insult. "It's mostly faded but it will always be somewhat visible. She used a cursed blade on me." I explain awkwardly.
"I know." He concedes in morbid amusement. "She used that same dagger on me once." He let's go of my arm and twists his torso around so I can see a long white scar trail from the side of his neck down to his right shoulder blade. It's about ten centimeters in length and jagged in a few spots, obviously poorly healed.
"She could be quite vicious during her... lessons. She gave me this one when I accidentally peered into her mind while she was using legilimency on me. Bitch." He sneers.
"How come I never noticed it before." I wonder out loud.
"Oh. Sometimes I use a concealing charm on it. Its not completely hidden by most of my attire and I don't like people asking questions." He tells me, refusing to make eye contact.
"Perhaps I should use a concealing charm on mine." I ponder.
"No. Don't. You have nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, you should be proud. Not many have crossed Bella and lived to tell the tale. Your scar undeniable proof. I'm not proud of how I got my scar. That's why I hide it."
"I hate remembering how I got it, Draco. I hate what it signifies. I want to hide it from myself. I don't care about other people seeing. I'm not ashamed. I'm burdened by the ugly thing." I confess bitterly.
Kinder words grace his lips. "You're wrong, Hermione. It's not your burden. It's a representation of how strong you are. Of how you've overcome every unfounded accusation ever thrown at you."
He leans in and relishes my arm with soft pecks. I grab either side of his face and pull his mouth to mine for a real kiss. Slow and heavy. Healing and meaningful. It's him who's siphoning the pain out of me this time around.
We are undeniably good for each other. Our unusual relationship is cathartic and soundly pure. We provide to each other support and understanding that others couldn't offer us.
'Who gives a fig if we used to hate each other? That's all in the past. The ugly, angry, difficult past. Now is the time of smooth sailing and easier tides. We're the best. Fuck all the rest.'
Draco releases my mouth and smiles. "Let's go have dinner, love. At least one meal a day remember? We missed breakfast and lunch because you kept me cooped up in here all day. You insatiable siren." He teases.
I scoff and I'm about to protest his preposterous accusations when I'm interrupted by the growling of my belly. Draco snickers.
"Fine. Dinner it is." I simply accept.
We dress together, forgoeing any of the inessentials like underwear or socks and hurry down to the Great Hall.
—
Pansy's POV
'CUNT! Slutty, dirty, thieving cunt!'
I stew spitefully in the Slytherin common room on ways to make mudblood Granger's life a living hell.
'Who gave her the right?! Her filthy blood doesn't deserve Draco!'
My arms are crossed and I know I must be unintentionally voicing some of my thoughts, considering the looks Blaise is shooting me. I sneer at the traitor.
"You knew about it and you let it continue! You betrayed us! He was MINE!" I screech at him.
He rolls his eyes. "You need to get a fucking grip, Parkinson. He doesn't want you. Never has, never will. He loves Hermione. And if you try to fuck with their relationship, I swear to Salazar I will personally make you pay the price! And it will be a steep price. Payed for in blood." His threat is eerily calm and of the deadly sort which is highly unusual for someone as mild mannered as Blaise Zabini.
I'm not deterred by his warning. "All bark and no bite, Zabini. Why don't you just stay out of my way! This is my buisiness! Not yours!"
He stands up angrily and brushes off his trousers. "It is my buisiness, actually. You've been warned. That's all I came here to say." He states boredly and stalks out of the common room. I sneer as he walks past me.
'Fuck that. I'll put that Granger bitch in the ground before I take orders from the likes of him!'
I sit deathly still as I form a plan to destroy the dirty mudblood Granger.
End of Pansy's POV