A.N. This chapter's a little more graphic – but I'm sure none of you will mind!
Hermione did wonders to soothe Draco's worry. Just the fact that she was near made him feel better; whatever he had to face, it made the world of difference knowing he wouldn't have to face it alone.
He was sitting on the couch, watching the snowy owl fade to a speck in the sky and wondering idly why Potter had to show off by getting himself such a fancy owl when Hermione hugged him from behind. Her arm curled around his chest and she buried her face in his hair, her own frizzy mass of curls engulfing Draco.
'You know what helps me when I'm worried?' she said.
Knowing her it would be reading or work, neither of which appealed to Draco at that moment.
'A nice long bubble bath,' she murmured in his ear. 'I'll draw you one.'
She took him by the hand and led him to the bathroom. Soon, the air was humid, steam from the cascading hot water fogging up the mirror and making the tiles slick and slippery.
As Hermione kissed him, her lips lingering sensually over his, she started to undo the buttons of his shirt. To his surprise, Draco realised he was nervous. He'd never been anxious about sex before – but then, it had never been a big deal before. With Pansy, it had simply been a natural conclusion to their hormonal curiosity and, besides, he'd never particularly cared about what she thought of him.
Crucially, Pansy had always known what he was, so there was never any danger of disappointing her.
'You're shaking,' Hermione said quietly, concern filling her big brown eyes.
'I'm used to it being dark,' Draco said. The fluorescent glare of the bathroom left no room for hiding scars.
Tentatively, she brushed her hands up under his shirt, never breaking eye contact. Her fingers traced each scar and ridge. Her eyes widened as she fingered the knot of skin in the centre of his chest the size of a snitch. Even though he wanted to baulk at such unmitigated intimacy, Draco pulled his shirt off so she could see the scars properly. Most of them were faint, like pencil drawings, but they got uglier and redder towards his chest.
'You were cursed,' she whispered, whitening. The pain on her face took some of his own away, as though she were sharing it, siphoning off the worst of it for him.
'Well, Potter more than made up for it by saving my life,' Draco said with an attempt at a smile.
Hermione bit down on her lip. 'I forgot that Harry used Sectumpsempra on you. At the time I didn't realise the effects would be so lasting – not until I saw it being used on George.'
'It needs to be treated straightaway,' Draco said. 'I'm lucky Snape was quick enough to stop any scarring on my face.' He smirked. 'That would have been a tragedy for witches everywhere.'
She didn't smile but continued inspecting his upper body, her soft, small fingers ghosting along his collarbone, circling his shoulders.
He froze. Her hand had reached his left forearm, rubbing the faded Dark Mark. He was amazed that her expression showed curiosity rather than revulsion for it. She lifted his arm to see it better, seeming to study it.
'What was going through your mind?' Her voice held no judgement.
'I wanted to make my family proud. I wanted to do something to be proud of myself. Something impressive. I wanted to be important, to be taken seriously. I wanted to be like my father.'
They were childish desires and he felt ashamed of them but Hermione hugged him fiercely, forgivingly.
He felt himself melt into the hug, savouring her slight frame pressing against his.
Bit by bit they undressed each other, exploring the plains and landscapes of their skin. Draco spread his fingers over her belly, marvelling at the contrast in skin colour, circling the soft flesh with the pads of his thumbs.
'You're-' Draco started, searching for a word that would do her justice. She was leaning back, fingers curled around the lip of the bath, wearing nothing but her knickers. Slightly shy, she was looking at him with parted lips and fire in her eyes.
'Lovely. Just lovely,' he said, kissing her until his blood was at a boil.
'Let's get in the bath,' she said, shimmying out of her underwear.
Draco groaned as he sunk into the scalding water. It felt sinfully good, even without the naked lady leaning on his chest.
'Were the bubbles really necessary, though?' Draco asked between nibbling his way up the back of her neck.
'You don't like them?'
'They're blocking my view.'
She chuckled naughtily. 'Imagine you're blind. See with your hands.'
He took her advice, trailing his hands down from her throat and along her chest, exploring her as she had done him earlier.
She let out a small sigh. 'What can you see?'
He closed his eyes and let his fingertips paint a picture. 'I see two breasts – they're small and very firm, like fruit ripe to be bitten – and two nipples – they're hard,' he growled, running his hand over them quickly but lightly enough to keep her frustrated.
'You're doing that on purpose,' Hermione said, arching. His erection twitched against her lower back, something she must have felt.
One hand stayed on her chest while he let the other travel south, caressing the gentle flare of her hips, the dip of her navel, the downy curls between her legs.
'Look what I've found,' he whispered, stroking between her legs. 'Looks like the Chamber of Secrets really is in the bathroom.'
'Don't call it that,' Hermione said, but she was laughing, shaking uncontrollably against him. 'And I'm not going to call your cock 'the basilisk', if that's what you were hoping!'
Draco snorted with laughter. 'I hadn't thought of that one!'
He bit down on her shoulder and slid a finger inside her. With a soft hum of contentment, she slid her arm behind her and wrapped it around his erection. As her skilful fingers danced up his length, he felt the tension build in his groin and he bit down harder on her, nearly breaking the skin.
'Add another finger, please,' she pleaded, bucking her hips slightly in her earnestness. He complied, fluttering two fingers inside her while his thumb circled the bundle of nerves on the outside. She let out a strangled gasp, her eyes squeezing shut and wriggling like an eel.
'Remind me to thank whoever taught you to do that,' she moaned, gripping him more tightly.
Any intention Draco might have had of lasting evaporated from his mind as Hermione picked up the pace and twisted her head back to kiss him. This time, she kissed him with pure desperation, her tongue pushing through his lips aggressively.
He came hard, holding onto her for dear life.
Eager for her to join him in oblivion, he probed more deeply inside her, carefully reading her body and learning what she liked. He listened to her laboured breath, watched the nuances of her expression, felt the way her body went rigid and relaxed until he found the exact right place. She was not especially noisy when she climaxed, but from her scrunched up expression and the pulsating he could feel against his fingers he thought it was a strong one.
Afterwards, they lay dazed until the cooling water chased them out.
It was only when Hermione started to pull herself away from him that he realised how reluctant he was to let her go. How much he enjoyed simply holding her.
She smiled at him and pulled a fluffy towel around his shoulders, rubbing him dry with tenderness in her smile.
Potter was already waiting for them in the chic East London gastropub. Draco was glad to note the lack of Weasleys.
Hermione rushed over as soon as she saw Potter and threw her arms around him. Draco walked up more reservedly and thought a curt nod was welcome enough.
'You could have told me who you were first!' Potter told Hermione. 'I got a bit of a fright when some random woman started to hug me.'
'Of course, silly me!' Hermione said, having forgotten her disguise.
Potter waited until the server had come to take drink orders off Draco and Hermione before turning serious.
'They've got practically the whole Ministry after you two,' Potter said. 'Hermione, they even brought your parents in for questioning.'
Draco grabbed her hand under the table and held on tight.
'But my dad's still sick,' Hermione said in a small voice. 'He shouldn't be put through stress like that.'
Potter nodded sympathetically. 'I think they're going to leave them alone now. I mean, it was pretty clear they didn't know anything.'
'Except now they now I'm on the run from the law,' Hermione said, frantic with worry. 'They didn't need this on top of everything else I've put them through.'
Draco felt sick with guilt. Hermione wouldn't be going through any of this if she hadn't chosen to help him.
'What about my parents?' Draco asked, dreading the answer.
'They're under house arrest,' Potter said. 'They're being taken in for questioning on Wednesday.'
Draco nodded, thinking it could be worse and trying not to think of the fact that there was still time for it to get plenty worse.
'I really think the key to clearing your name, Malfoy, is to find out who wants this book,' Potter continued.
'The only person who knows that is Nott,' Draco said. 'And he couldn't tell us if he wanted to.' He struggled to sift through his memory for something useful to add. 'His aunt said he was trying to get a job in the Department of Mysteries. It sounded like he had a friend there. Maybe they would know something.'
Potter nodded slowly. 'It's worth asking. I'll have to be subtle, but maybe I can find out who Nott was friendly with.'
Draco didn't think he'd ever get used to being civil with Potter. It seemed an overall unnatural state of affairs, but a necessary one. After all, if their lives ever did return to normal, his relationship with Hermione meant he would probably have to spend time with Potter.
Hermione woke Draco up with a shake.
'What's the matter?' he yawned.
'Regan's not back?'
'Huh?'
They'd been watching a film and Draco had obviously dozed off. Pulling himself up, he noticed the sunlight streaming in.
'You've been up all night?' he asked Hermione. She nodded.
'She should have been back around midnight. She said she would.'
There might be a thousand reasons why Regan had stayed out. She could have met up with friends or been called back into work, but Hermione shook her head at the suggestions.
'She would have sent me a text message,' Hermione said firmly, staring at the screen of the phone in her hand.
When Regan didn't appear all day, Hermione risked phoning her aunt. Draco sat next to Hermione and overheard Hermione's Aunt Portia's frightened voice over the phone. Regan had been attacked at work and dragged off.