Chapter Twenty-Four: Trust & The Boy-Who-Got-Drunk

Hermione in her entire life would have never thought she'd seen it. She sat at the long steel dinner table, dressed in a long flowing silver dress that had been laid down on her bed earlier that day. Candles circled around the table, as Draco sat at one end of the table and his father at the other. She stared down at her plate, her head titled so far down that her spectacularly decorated hair was visible to everyone at the table.
"You must excuse me, Miss Granger, my wife is away on business," he said. Fucking liar, thought both he and Hermione, but Draco knew that Lucius was pretending. Lucius knew that Draco had only slept with Hermione because of his mother's death. Surely he knew that he had told her. Did Lucius not think Draco would explain his actions?
She didn't dare look up at him, let alone speak to him. Try as she might, Lucius Malfoy had always scared her. Probably because she knew he'd rather have her dead than alive, sitting at his dinner table, eating his food and carrying his grandchild.
"Miss Granger, surely you must be hungrier than that. You're eating for two now. You and a Malfoy. And a Malfoy deserves only the best, even in the beginning," Lucius spoke coyly, smiling. Draco, who had listened to his devious plan earlier, grew impatient. He looked up from his food.
"Call me crazy, father, but wasn't it you who said at the beginning of the year that you'd rather have me die than have a mudblood for an heir?"
"Well, of course, Draco. But considering the circumstances-"
"Oh?" Draco questioned. "And what circumstance would that be?"
"Draco, I don't think this is proper dinner conversation. Especially in front of your guest."
"She's not my guest, father. She's a fucking hostage." Hermione sighed and looked up from her plate.
"I have been thinking of going home soon."
"Oh, no no no, dear, that won't do at all," Lucius stated.
"Excuse me?"
"Maybe you should just tell her, father."
"Draco!" Lucius grunted, his teeth pressed together.
"Look, maybe she'll be into it. The mudblood's always gotten wet for power."
"I am right here, Draco!"
"Alright. Hermione," Lucius hissed, "how would you like to be the mother of the most powerful wizard the world has ever known?"
"I do not quite understand." She said nervously, her eyes, which had recently been returned to their true color, floating to Draco, who was giving her some sort of look.
"If you had the baby, and stayed with us, Draco and I could give the child everything it ever wanted. The best tutors and brooms and robes."
"Well, I guess I could... use the help," she said, as Draco nodded slowly.
"Then you have no problem raising the child here?"
"What?"
"And letting the Dark Lord possess our baby?" Draco quipped.
"WHAT?!" Hermione said, standing up quickly and looking at Draco.
"The child is a Death Eater already, sweetheart."
"Fuck you, both! I am leaving," she spat, and practically ran out of the room. Lucius was seething, and stared down Draco.

It had taken Draco a while to navigate the changing doorways to find the room Hermione had run away to. She'd made her way back to the 'Glass Room' of course, and was hurriedly throwing things into her newly re-acquired suitcase.
"We need to talk."
"Fuck you. I should have known. Stupid of me to trust a bloody pureblood. I'm going home. I would much rather be disowned than used for your disgusting Death Eater means of abusing your children. You are so much like your father-"
"That's crossing the line."
"Oh. So now there are lines?"
"I wanted you to know."
"What?"
"Look, I wanted you to know what he was planning to do with my son. I couldn't bear to sit there, Hermione, and let him talk to you all caringly like that. He was lying to you."
"How do I know you are not lying to me right now? Playing the role of the caring... guy just so I will agree to pretend to go along with this plan and you screw me over at the last minute?"
"You don't," he said, and cracked a half smile, then stared down at his shoes. "You've just got to trust me."
"Trust you? Oh please, what have you ever done that warrants my trust?"
"I could have let Blaise rape you. Ravage you. I could have left you in that fucking club, but I didn't. And as much as I hate to admit it, Granger, you are carrying my child, okay? And there's really no way for me to let you walk out that door without taking care of business. I could bloody well hate you. Hell, who knows? I may, but you can trust that I would never let anything bad befall my child."
"You swear?"
"I swear." He said, brushing aside a few strands of his blonde hair as an owl flew down the corridor and into the 'Glass Room.' "Lavinia?" Draco asked the owl as she perched on his arm. "Been using my owls have you, Granger?"
"Relax, Draco, I just wrote Harry," she retorted, sliding the scroll out from beneath Lavinia's foot. She stood there, reading for a second before her eyes started to redden and well up. Oh damn, thought Draco, she's going to cry...
And she sat down on the bed, cradling her head in her hands and weeping.
"What did he say?"
"I always ruin everything," she sobbed.
"Well-" he began, and she snapped her head up to look at him, "no you don't. He's a scarheaded poofy bastard," he replied, and saw Hermione move a bit, perhaps from a small laugh. "What did he say?"
"He called me a lying whore and... he found out about Ginny."
"What about the Weaselbee?"
"Psh, like I'm going to tell you, Draco. Just get out and let me pack in peace."
"No. I'm curious. You know how much I like to hear about Potter being in pain."
"No."
"Tell me, please."
"Why should I?"
"Because," he said, and cocked his head to one side, widening his eyes a bit and sticking out his bottom lip.
"Ugh, okay." Hermione said, sighing in defeat. "The weekend I... slept with Ron, Harry slept with Ginny."
"Gross."
"Draco..."
"Sorry."
"But she was mad at him because she was really drunk so she would not talk to him. And Ginny got her memory blasted, so Harry wanted it done, too, and now he found out that I did it and he is mad at me!"
"Well that doesn't make any sense."
"Thank you!" Hermione said, plopping back down on the bed in tears. "It just gets so old not having anyone who trusts me. It's been that way for the past bloody week and now it's even worse. We used to be the Golden Fucking Trio, now we're just three over-emotional oversexed teenagers who hate each other."
"Typical," spat Draco, sitting next to her and pushing her luggage off the bed. "You look like shit when you cry."
"You are a big bloody help."
"Ah, I try," he said, and smirked, looking at her from his spot next to her on the sheer water bed. He leaned towards her, his lips tracing the lining of her neck. Hermione held her breath for a second as she felt the heat escaping from Draco's mouth on her skin, but she fought against every hormonal feeling in her body. Every single cell screamed "DO IT! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST BANG HIS BRAINS OUT!"
 "Stop it, Draco," she said, brushing away his head with the back of her hand.
"What?"
"Call me crazy, but I'm really not in the mood."
"Relax, you can just lay there. I'll do all the work."
"No," she said, standing up. He followed her lead, and managed to get to the doorframe before her, smirking as he placed his hand to stop her escape. "Let me go, Malfoy."
"Just get me say something," he cooed, leaning closer to her. "Look around you Hermione. What have you got to lose? What have you to go back to?" Draco raised his eyebrow to her as she looked down, a few tears returning. His hand then left from its place on the doorframe and slid onto her waist. Draco kissed her, and Hermione sucked in a deep breath as his cologne and the scent of his shampoo overpowered the air once again. In her heart, she wished she had will power, but unfortunately right now, neither of their hearts nor brains were doing their thinking. The two walked clumsily over to the white water bed, and Draco finished kissing her standing back to look at her. He had lied. She wasn't ugly when she cried – not in the least. As a matter of fact, standing there in the silver chiffon dress, her hair twirled up and around in tiny silver clips, the tiny brown tendrils falling over her red-rimmed eyes, she was breath taking. He slid his hands down her neck, and past her breasts where a tiny silver broach held the dress together. Simply unclipping it, the dress fell to the ground, and Hermione stood, entirely naked save for her panties, gripping the white shag carpeting between her toes.

Harry was sleeping upstairs when he awoke to the smell of dinner. He knew that they wouldn't call him – they never did. He'd always known it was his responsibility to be there when food was being served. He slid on his shoes, and climbed sluggishly down the stairs, once again taking in the sight of Dudley, whose gargantuan form should have been evenly distributed over a few chairs, crushing a tiny wooden chair whose legs had bowed out over time. Uncle Vernon mercilessly shoved broccoli into his mouth as Aunt Petunia pursed her lips, cutting a piece of meat mercilessly.
Harry sat down, looking at his smallest-portions-of-everything meal and began to eat. Dudley's face never moved as he watched the television. As Dudley reached down to spear another helping of cheesecake for dessert, something funny that Harry did not give a good damn about took place on the telly, and Dudley began to laugh heavily, and Harry knew what was going to happen before it did.
The chair squeaked, and bowed more, and then snapped loudly, sending Dudley's gigantesque form crashing to the floor in an explosion of wood splinters and fat and cheesecake. Aunt Petunia stood up, blubbering and screaming and Harry couldn't help himself. Despite the horrible shite that had taken place in the last twenty-four hours, this was too much and laughter escaped his mouth. He laughed heartily, loudly, and quickly as Aunt Petunia's mouth dropped in sheer astonishment.
"Why are you laughing, boy? You think that's funny?" Uncle Vernon growled, his face turning purple with anger. Harry nodded, standing up and wiping away a few tears.
"Yes, yes I do, Uncle Vernon. That fat lump broke a chair. It's bloody hilarious," he said, chuckling as Vernon's face became more contorted and pork-like with anger.
"That's it! I have had it with your rudeness, boy!"
"My rudeness? I'm simply laughing at a very fat kid falling over. If you fell over, I'd be watching a very fat man do it and I'd be laughing even harder!" Harry replied.
"You've got a lot of nerve, boy. How would you for me to send you to military school, huh?"
"How would you like to suck my balls?"
"What?!" Aunt Petunia yelled, looking up from where Dudley struggled like an upturned turtle to get up.
"Oh, you know what? I'm sorry. What I actually said was HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO SUCK MY BALLS, Aunt Petunia?!" Harry spat, angrily blowing out of the room. He tried to recall Dumbledore's orders. To stay at Number 4 Privet Drive, but right now he needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. He couldn't spout off and talk about his "naughty bits" like that without impending punishment. Throwing a few things into a backpack that had been handed down to him by the Dursleys, Harry thundered downstairs, but before he could burst through the front door, he felt Aunt Petunia's hand grip his arm. "Fuck all y'all and this Popsicle stand." He yelled, tossing her hand away, knowing they couldn't ever fully kick him out, but he needed to leave for just a few days. He had always had Ron and Hermione to go to, but now he had nothing. He felt almost regretful for writing such a hateful reply to Hermione, but she had blasted away the loss of his virginity – how could he forgive someone for that?

Hermione laid in bed, covered from head to toe in the post-coitus mixed sweat from her and Draco, amazed at the fact that she was still in the house, let alone currently doing Merlin-only-knows with the Malfoy heir. She drew in a deep breath as his lips landed on her belly-button, his tongue circling mercilessly.
"You know," he said, breathlessly, knowing he was about to get his second wind. "You should get pierced."
"Get what pierced?"
"Your belly-button."
"I don't want to ruin my stomach. Beside, I heard," she winced a little as Draco moved upwards and commenced to sucking ferociously on her neck. He moved his left hand from its recent spot on her thigh and slid it around her leg, his thumb beginning to massage her, as she tried desperately to finish her sentence, "that if you get your bellybutton, shit, pierced that when you have a baby the hole stretches and won't close back up," she said, kissing him as he continued to press his fingers into her. "And in a few months, I'm gonna be fat," she said, panting hard as her hand gripped tightly onto Draco's arm.
"I don't care," he said, removing his hand and looking at her as she suddenly looked quite let down. He kissed her, and then moved slowly downward to her chest, sucking gently on her skin.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"Actually working at foreplay?"
"I don't know, killing time, I guess," he said, smiling up at her.
"You confuse me, Malfoy. You keep me guessing," she moaned, sliding her nails down his shoulder blades. "I do not know what I'm going to do now. I cannot go home and I cannot go to the burrow."
"Stay here," he said, kissing her stomach now.
"What?"
"My father wants the baby to be raised here, so it's a perfect cover. You can," he paused for a second as she felt his head lower and his tongue slid into her, "stay here with us." Her breath caught in her throat. She'd never had anyone do this to her, and her toes soon curled at the feeling. She slid her hand down her glistening frame, taking Draco's hand as his mouth pressed down upon her, and she shut her eyes in ecstasy.

Harry took another shot at the Leaky Cauldron, laughing heartily with the four other teenage wizards around him. Going out and getting royally plastered was probably not the best idea, but what else was a sixteen year old wizard with money to burn and somewhat of a conscience supposed to do?
"So then they cut my arm, and I was bleeding... fucking everywhere. And he tried to kill me, but I let that summabitch have it. And so I went back to Hogwarts. But I still won. I fucking woooooon the Triwizard," he said, drunkenly catching a high-five from the mohawked wizard who had called himself Skeebop.
"Fuckin' A, Harry!" Another, an asian wizard with a nosering, said.

Hermione screamed, backing away from Draco as she still held onto him, breathing heavily.
"That was the best one yet, it really was," she panted, "we need to stop while we're ahead." She said, smirking, and he nodded, kissing her.
"I'm gonna go take a shower," he said, leaving the room. Aside from checking out his butt when he left, Hermione simply rolled over onto her stomach and began to take the clips out of her hair. When she heard the door shut, she smiled and put her head into the pillow. What's wrong with me?! She screamed to herself. I have shit for willpower.
 Around ten minutes later, Draco entered the room, dressed rather nicely.
"Why the get-up, Ferret?"
"Let's go somewhere."
"Excuse me? I was about to go to sleep. I am quite tired."
"Come on, mudblood, let's go out."
"You wanna be seen in public with me?"
"Right now? Yeah, kinda. Come on, shower, slap that mop on your head into a ponytail, and we'll go have, like, a midnight dessert or something," he said, and she smiled.

Harry, now quite inebriated, wandered down the streets of Diagon Alley with his four new bestest buddies in the WHOOOOOOOOLE world. He stumbled, and fell directly onto the wet sidewalk as the long-haired goateed wizard named Twister laughed, pulling him back up. These four wizards had apparently been fans of Harry's and bought him shot after shot. Harry, whose glasses were now crooked, looked down the road of Diagon Alley and squinted. He thought he saw... Hermione? He began to walk drunkenly down the street.

"HERMIONE!" She heard as she and Draco stopped outside of a restaurant in Diagon Alley. She shrugged, and looked down the street, amazed to see Harry suddenly stumble again, and hit the ground as a group of teens around him laughed.
"Holy shit," Draco laughed, "Look, Granger, it's the Boy-Who-Got- Drunk."
"Shut up, Draco," she said, glaring down the street as Harry mosied towards her, laughing as his nose bled.
"I just wanted to say," he slurred, his breath reeking of liquor, "that 1 – I'm sorry for calling you a whore. I mean, you kind of are a whore, but not enough to where I'd have to say it because I'm a great big asshole fuckhead. 2 – You should be with Ron, and not this Ferret fuck right her. Ron. Even if the baby isn't his because he leee-oooves you. You've got him whipped. Wa-pish!" He said, and attempted to make a whipping gesture only to wobble before being caught by the rather chubby wizard next to him. "Oh! And these are my new friends, Twister, Skeebop, Dimsum, and Larry! You know what his last name is?! Cotter! Larry Cotter! His name..." he seemed dizzy for a second, "rhymes with my name!"
"Harry," Hermione said, putting her fingers to her nose between her eyes, breathing out slowly. "Are you okay?"
"Nope," he slurred lazily, "I'm drunk."
"Ah, he'll be fine, girly," The one called Skeebop said, laughing. "We're gonna get him a room and let him sleep it off. Fuckin' Boy-Who-Lived deserves it," he said as Harry leaned up against the bricks of the restaurant, moaning.
"Thanks... 'Skeebop', but I really don't think he needs a few hoodlums taking care of him," Hermione retorted, staring down the punk.
"Wait. What?" Draco said, raising his eyebrows.
"He needs someone to watch him, Malfoy."
"I hope you're not talking about you."
"I'm his friend."
"He called you a whore!"
"You've called me a mudblood bitch."
"Yeah, but we have reservations and-" his voice was halted suddenly by the sound of Harry heaving onto the side of the building.
"Look, I wouldn't expect you to understand how important Harry's friendship is to me, so just give me twenty minutes. Go in there, get our table, and I'll be right back. I promise."
"Ugh, fine," Draco spat, turning into the restaurant. "Stupid Gryffindor."

Hermione draped Harry's arm over her as she lifted him up. "Ow, watch my back," Harry slurred.
"Why?"
"'Cause it's still sore."
"From what?" Hermione asked, making her way to the Leaky Cauldron to get Harry a room.
"My tattoo."

Kudos to South Park and Movies-in-Fifteen-Minutes for helping me out with the Harry Leaves the Dursleys scene. Please review!