Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
AN: Thank you to Chris, TriwizardChampion97, Leah2201, hotstuff11, makaem, elh4587, eri, Guest, and OfLoveAndChocolate. Your reviews are very appreciated.
Reply to eri: I understand your concern that I made Draco appear too dim minded. However, very often in the books Draco is portrayed this way. He's mostly all talk - unless he's being blackmailed. I think Draco is the kind of person that has been raised to fit into certain standards, much like Neville has, and as a result he feels as if he must act upon these standards to keep people placated. Also, this story is mostly told from Hermione's point of view, so everything she says about Draco is her perception, whether it's true or not. How many times have you thought something about someone that turned out to be very misguided or completely the opposite of the truth? Thank you for your review very much, and I hope I explained myself properly. :)
Chapter Twenty-One - Drinks by the Fireside
Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Granger and that bloody boy.
I sat back in my chair, swirling the firewhiskey in my glass lazily. The fire was crackling merrily, but the air held a crisp chill. I liked it that way. It was so unlike Spinner's End, the house I grew up in. Hogwarts felt more like my home than anywhere else I had ever frequented.
My mood had been very sour as of late. Ever since that day Granger walked into the Hall holding hands with Longbottom, it has been hard to get rid of the image. I kept telling myself how inappropriate it is, but the rational side of my mind doesn't seem to care. And on top of it all, I had that blasted dream almost every single night.
I had been trying to decide if the dream is just that – a dream. However, something about this dream continued to make me feel uneasy. It was almost like I was watching a memory, but I knew it wasn't mine. The man in the dream, John – for some reason I almost felt like I was looking at myself twenty years ago, with slight differences. John was shorter than me, and his nose wasn't quite as pronounced. I bit my tongue in frustration. What was I thinking?
I believe I was losing my damned mind.
But the girl…
She looked like Granger. Even in Elizabethan clothing, it was Granger, through and through. I've had the dream enough times now to know for certain. Her face, her voice, her eyes. It was haunting me.
I pinched the bridge of my nose in effort to cast those thoughts away. How ridiculous! I was acting like an infatuated student. It was bad enough I lost all my control and actually kissed her. And then out of haste and fear, I Obliviated her. I prayed she wouldn't figure it out, although I couldn't really rely on it not happening.
And then there was Albus – meddling old fool. He really couldn't keep his damned mouth shut. "Hermione needs adults she can trust." I couldn't be trusted alone with Granger. But what did it even matter? She was only a pawn in his grand game of chess. He wanted her here as a teacher so he can have her on reserve. Granger was young, naive, and impulsive. But she was intelligent and a fast learner and we didn't have enough people like that in the Order.
Not that the Order wasn't full of capable wizards and witches. I have been on both sides of the line between Dark and Light, and as far as talent goes, we were sorely outnumbered. Too many people were afraid to join our ranks. The Dark Lord was infiltrating the Wizarding world through fear and well-placed soldiers. If we weren't careful, we would lose, and most of us would die, or cross to the other side.
So, we would die. I would rather die than live in a world ruled by The Dark Lord.
I stood up and threw my glass into the fire, the sound and sudden burst of heat rather satisfying indeed.
The next few days passed as expected. Christmas break was just around the corner and most of the dunderheads were growing antsy. I took enough points to sour most of their moods, so at least when I was in my classroom I didn't have to hear about it. When I was teaching the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw seventh years, it was something of a struggle for me to look at Granger. She was always next to Longbottom, and for some reason, this made me feel sick.
Weasley still sat in the back, looking as if he wasn't sleeping or eating much. His awful hair stood out like a flame in the night because his skin was so pasty. His second-hand robes were hanging off of him, so I figured he'd lost at least half a stone or more. I would have to speak to Minerva.
At dinner the next night, Minerva and Sprout were discussing their plans for the holidays. As I couldn't deduct points from them, I stabbed my roast beef angrily and slammed it into my mouth, not even tasting it.
"I presume you're staying here for the holidays, Severus?" I heard Minerva ask.
"Spinner's End is hardly a vacation spot." I looked around the Great Hall, and my eyes found their way on Granger. She had her arm around Longbottom, and he was leaned in close to her, seemingly whispering in her ear. No decency whatsoever.
I felt it, inside. The anger. I wanted to snatch that blasted boy and throw him.
"I've been telling you this for years, all it needs is some Transfiguration and that house would be lovely," Minerva said primly. I broke my gaze on Granger and settled on Minerva.
"I'm not having this conversation again," I replied impatiently. "I was meaning to tell you – perhaps you should pay more attention to your Gryffindor, Ron Weasley. He doesn't look in good health."
Minerva scanned the Hall.
"Why, he's not even here."
"Very astute, Minerva. Your student often misses meals. I spoke to Winky and she leaves him food every night, but it's obviously not enough. I won't have a Weasley dying on my watch; Molly would tear down the castle walls."
Minerva knitted her brow and had the decency to look ashamed.
"I can't believe I didn't notice. We've just had so much going on preparing the children for O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, plus the extra projects outside of class…"
I inclined my head sharply at her.
"…but enough of that, I'll be sure to have a sit-down with Mr. Weasley and perhaps I'll be able to get him to eat more than his share of biscuits."
I snorted. "You do that."
There was silence for a moment, I once again began stabbing my food and eating it as fast as I could. It was too tempting to look at the Gryffindor table and watch her.
"Mr. Longbottom and Miss Granger seem to be getting on very well," Minerva commented.
My blood froze, but I put on a bored expression.
"Indeed."
"I hear she will be staying with him and Augusta during break."
It took most of my effort not to show disgust at this.
"Your point?"
"The Longbottoms would be a very good family to be on her side." Minerva looked at me pointedly.
I had never considered this. There was much I would say if we were in private, but we had to be careful here. As much as I disliked seeing them together, Minerva was right. The Longbottoms were Purebloods, therefore as safe as one would expect in times like these. The Dark Lord hated killing Purebloods unless he truly felt he had to, which could range from a terrible transgression to breathing the wrong way, depending on his mood. But, still…it was highly unlikely Death Eaters would go knocking on their door. Augusta was far too old, and I couldn't see what they would want in the boy. He wasn't especially talented, although Sprout often raves about his skill in Herbology. The Dark Lord has no interest in plants.
I grit my teeth together. He's so ordinary. What does Granger even see in him?
Dangerous thoughts. I didn't have any business thinking them.
"I expect Miss Granger will be in good hands this holiday," I finally said, although it came out as a hiss. I felt the anger rise again because I had a good idea of just whose hands I was talking about.
Minerva thankfully didn't say anymore. It was too dangerous to continue this conversation, anyway. I finished my meal without another word, and swept out of the Hall.
When I walked passed Granger, she looked at me, and I couldn't tell what I saw in her eyes.
I felt it, though. In my heart, a pain. I couldn't even sneer at her, because the feeling was so overwhelming.
Once in my quarters, I lit my fire with a wave of my wand. I threw my teaching robes on the floor and kicked my boots off. I settled down in my favorite armchair with a glass of firewhiskey. I wasn't really a drinker, but this year I'd taken up the habit.
After unbuttoning the high collar of my crisp white shirt, I took a drink, relishing the burn. Nothing felt quite as good as sitting in my quarters after a long day dealing with snot-nosed brats. Here, nobody could bother me. Here, I could lower my defenses, if only a little, and enjoy the silence.
But this night I couldn't rid my thoughts of Granger. I frowned in distaste. So, she was spending the holiday with Longbottom. How precious. I had a fair idea how they'd be celebrating Christmas.
A perverse part of my mind wondered what they'd done together. They were far too intimate in public to be reading books behind closed doors. I took another sip of my drink. I couldn't stop my mind from imagining the two together, although thankfully my imagination wasn't good enough to get many details. It was disgusting, anyway. Imagining two students naked together was almost as bad as kissing one.
I felt my groin tighten. Another drink, to clear my mind. It was more like a gulp, and I poured myself some more. After contemplating, I drew the amber liquid in all at once and felt my face grow very hot. I stood up and decided to change.
After unbuttoning my shirt, I threw it on the floor, and did the same with my trousers. I almost groaned in relief as the growing part of me was freed from the constricting fabric. A pair of black pajama pants floated over to me with a lazy flick of my wand. After slipping them on, I decided I was cooler, and I wanted another drink.
I sat back down, full drink in hand, listening to the crackling of the fireplace. Trying to get my physical state out of mind. It was really very nice to watch. The earthy smell of burning wood always comforted me.
Bloody hell. I was halfway done with my drink when my thoughts landed on Granger again. The look on her face tonight when she saw me was troubling. What if she had figured out…?
No. I couldn't even consider that an option. Not right now, anyway. Thinking about Obliviating her made me think about kissing her, and I felt my arousal grow stronger. I downed the rest of my drink and set it down on the floor next to my chair, trying to calm myself down. The rational part of me knew this was wrong, but the rest of me wasn't quite sober anymore and didn't seem to care.
I couldn't deny myself, not tonight. It had been too long, and it would only get worse each day I ignored it. I got up from my chair and walked into the bathroom, intending to draw a warm bath and with Granger's kiss in mind.
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