As she had the last time, Hermione sank to her knees in the deserted trophy room.
Some quick spellwork by Draco confirmed that the entire section of the castle was devoid of any living creature. Shivering with anticipation now that their privacy had been confirmed, Hermione worked at his zipper and he sprung free. He was exactly how she remembered: the shaft of him long and hard, the head engorged with excitement. Tentatively, she placed her lips on his tip and kissed him lightly. His eyes flashed.
Emboldened now that this was something they had both admitted to wanting from their tenuous relationship, Hermione wanted to tease him. A pearl of viscous fluid had formed at the tip of him, right before her eyes. She tasted it, dragging her tongue down his length and causing him to utter a low groan.
"Shh!" she admonished, pausing to reach for her wand and cast a precautionary muffliato, just in case.
"Well, when you're just teasing…" he protested in a voice that bordered on a whine.
In response, she took him as deep as she could before he touched the back of her throat. He answered with a sharp intake of breath…
It did not take him long to reach climax.
Prepared, Hermione watched as he unraveled before her eyes. Though he had forgone his public mask around her for some time now, there were still several other layers to Draco Malfoy… layers that seemed to simply peel away as his eyes widened and then squeezed shut. He thrust twice into her mouth, the hot stickiness of his release collecting in the back of her throat.
With a sigh of relief, his softening member slid from her mouth and she gave a great swallow. Either she was getting used to it now that they had done this twice, or the taste did not bother her so much this time. She smirked when his body betrayed a shiver in response to her action.
There was now a small cramp in her calf from how she had been kneeling. Stretching the sore muscle as she stood, she primly straightened out her barely ruffled skirt and uniform shirt. "Shall we continue with patrol?"
"Absolutely not," he protested, his arms encircling her. "What sort of man would I be if I didn't return the favor? I've had my pleasure, but you've had none."
With a small grin of mischief, Hermione agreed, "How dreadfully unfair."
He leaned in to kiss the shell of her ear before lowly murmuring into it, "Allow me to rectify that…"
This time, it was she that occupied the darkest corner of the barely lit trophy room. In no time at all, her uniform shirt was untucked and Draco's hand had disappeared below the hem of her pleated skirt. She gave a small gasp as his fingers ran over the opening of her womanhood, slick with excitement from what she had done to him only moments ago. She felt the slow build of his smirk against her collarbone as she began to squirm...
It took longer to bring her to climax than it had for him. When she seemed to get close, Draco pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck and chest, mouthing the fabric of her shirt wherever he came into contact with it. Then, in her ear he murmured, "Fall apart, Hermione. Fall apart for me..."
Her entire body flushed with heat, burgeoning into a shivering orgasm. For a few moments, she only leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily with the aftermath.
"Are you ready to finish patrol now, Miss Prefect?" Draco quipped, a self-satisfied sort of smirk tilting the corner of his mouth.
Through a guilty smile, she protested, "Is that really the best you could come up with? 'Miss Prefect'? When you insulted me in years past, at least you were creative."
Draco's eyes flashed, "Are you filing a complaint?"
"If I was?"
But she never found out his retort, because a noise from the hallway outside reminded them of their somewhat-exposed location.
"Through here," Hermione whispered with urgency, motioning for Draco to follow her through the secret passage hidden by the painting of Brutus Scrimgeour. The portrait swung open and they crept through it, leaving the trophy room behind and shutting out the faint blue glow from the Triwizard Cup.
Predictably, the passage spilled them out onto the fourth floor. Draco looked around and raised his eyebrows, "How many secret passages in this castle do you know?"
"If I told you, they wouldn't be secret any longer, would they?" she jested with an impish grin before taking off without him toward the staircases.
She could not be certain, but she would swear she heard Draco murmur, "Minx."
He did not sound particularly upset about it either.
He rejoined her on the sweeping staircase to the third floor corridor as it shifted directions. They shared a furtive look at one another but said nothing, hyper aware of what they had just shared.
A few moments later they were bantering as usual, light-heartedly insulting one another as they patrolled the third floor, second and first. They caught a pair of fifth-year Ravenclaws sneaking around the library after hours and had to take points – though Hermione was lenient on them since it appeared they were only in there to begin preparing for their O.W.L. examinations, still months away.
"Swots," Draco muttered under his breath as the defeated students retreated in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower.
"Says the Ravenclaw prefect who spends most of his spare time in the Stacks..."
When they came to the caves, however – the last stretch of their patrol – Hermione's lingering smile dropped from her face when they were met with the all-too-familiar sight of Pansy Parkinson. This time, she was alone.
The former-Slytherin certainly was not attempting to hide herself. In fact, it almost seemed she had been waiting there for them. Clutched in her grasp was a mostly empty bottle of aged mead; the stench of sticky sweetness and alcohol hung about her person.
"Wait somewhere else, Granger," she demanded immediately, stumbling shakily toward them. "This doesn't concern you."
"Actually it does concern me if you're out after hours, Pansy," Hermione responded smoothly. "Ten points from Hufflepuff."
"Fuck Hufflepuff," Pansy hiccupped before taking another long swig of the bottle in her hand.
"Are you drunk?" Draco demanded of his former housemate.
The answer was fairly obvious. Hermione and Draco shared a quick look.
Throwing her head back, Pansy was consumed by sudden mirth. "You know what the best part of your whole new charade is, Draco?" She hiccupped again. "How convincing it is." She made her way over to him and landed one finger directly in the center of his chest when she enunciated, "But I know the real you – and you know it."
"Pansy…" Draco tried to intervene, batting her finger away.
She captured his hand in hers and her eyes narrowed into slits. "Snakes may shed their skins, Malfoy, but their inner workings don't change."
"Pansy…" he attempted a second time, dropping her hand.
Suddenly despondent, the intoxicated girl let out a thick sob. "We had something real!"
Alarmed by how quickly the Hufflepuff had jumped from accusatory to sobbing, Hermione took a step back, her eyes flickering from Pansy to Draco and back again.
With a wail, the intoxicated witch flung her arms around Draco's neck. Hanging heavily off of him, she slurred, "We could still be together if it weren't for that fucking war! Fuck the Dark Lorddd…"
"She's drunk," Draco concluded, trying to pull his former-housemate back to her own two feet. Pansy however, was too cast-down to want to try standing on her own, and she slowly sank to the floor by Draco's feet in a tumult of histrionics.
"We should bring her to the Hospital Wing," Hermione suggested, her lighthearted mood utterly obliterated by everything Pansy had implied about her past with Draco.
To her surprise, Draco slowly shook his head, "Pomfrey will report her for drinking on school property. We should just bring her back to the Hufflepuff commons. She'll sleep it off fine on her own… she doesn't need to be in trouble on top of everything else."
Hermione arched an eyebrow at him. Realizing he was not planning to wait for her input anyway, she stiffly answered, "If you think that's best..."
It was with difficulty that they supported Parkinson out from the caves, up through the dungeons, and back to the first floor. None of them spoke a word as they went, except for Pansy's occasional half-coherent grumbling.
When they reached the main corridor of the West Wing, Draco paused and queried, "The Hufflepuff commons are near the kitchens?"
Hermione nodded and tried, "Are you sure we shouldn't bring her to the Hospital Wing...?"
"Positive," he answered firmly.
"This way then," she allowed with an exasperated sigh, jerking her head in the direction of the badgers' common room. They made their way somewhat awkwardly, as Pansy seemed unable - or unwilling - to support her own weight any longer.
The silence that stretched between them gave Hermione ample time to fume over how vexed she was with Draco, for reasons she knew perfectly well. If she were honest with herself, she would love for Pansy to get in trouble – that way at least the girl was punished for something... even if it was for drinking on school property, rather than what was really making Hermione upset…
I know the real you – and you know it. We had something real!
In the back of her mind, Hermione recalled the day in the library she had first become friends with Theo. He had insisted, You don't have to worry about Pansy: she's a sad girl, quite lost… she gets around, I'll grant you – but Draco's never done more than snog her, rest assured.
But Pansy and Draco must been friendlier with than Theo had let on, because Draco had not denied anything she had said to him…
We could still be together if it weren't for that fucking war…
"Where are you taking me?" Pansy muttered from in-between them, head lolling to the right where Draco supported her with his shoulder. It was the first coherent thing she had said since they had begun their laborious journey.
"We're taking you to your dormitory," Draco told her gently.
"Why're we going… there?" she slurred, stumbling slightly. "I hate it there."
"Keep it together," he admonished in a low voice, "or you'll get us caught sneaking you in."
Draco always did that, Daphne's voice reminded Hermione, a whisper of memory way back from the beginning of term. Whenever someone was planning to be out past curfew, he waited up to make sure they got back alright. If they were out too late, he went and made sure they were safe. He saved Pansy's arse twice by doing that – once from that awful Umbridge woman and another time from Derrick Bole. I guess Bole tried for more than Pans wanted one night and Draco had to hex him and remind him to keep his hands to himself…
...Why did that act of kindness suddenly take on a different meaning?
Begrudgingly, she announced, "It's just down here."
The kitchens were before them at last. Hermione was glad of it, as the other witch absolutely reeked of cloying alcohol where she had spilled some on her unkempt uniform blouse, as well as on her breath.
I wonder how long she was down there…
Had Draco broken Pansy's heart?
Did it matter?
For that matter, did Pansy have a heart to break?
Presently, the three came to a stop in front of the tower of massive oaken barrels stacked on their sides. Draco eyed them with interest. "How do we enter?"
"Can you support her?"
Hermione shifted Pansy onto Draco so she could pull out her wand. She almost instantly regretted the shift because Pansy once more flung her arms around his neck and began sobbing, beginning in small hiccups and steadily growing in pitch.
"She's going to get us caught!" Hermione hissed urgently.
Without warning, the drunken witch vomited all down Draco's side and arm.
It was mostly mead and stomach acid. Draco looked very green for a moment, like he might be ill himself. He pulled Pansy back up where she had begun to slump over into the puddle of sick, and reproachfully informed her, "That's disgusting, Parkinson."
"Evanesco," Hermione cast, vanishing the vomit first from Draco, then from Pansy and the floor.
"Thanks." He looked positively relieved.
"…Sorry," Pansy muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve.
"You're going to have to take her into the girls' dormitory."
"Yes," Hermione agreed. She had realized this before, but it annoyed her to think about it. She would much rather have left her with Madam Pomfrey and let Pansy deal with the consequences of her actions.
Still, Draco was very adamant….
Tapping out five beats to the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff' with her wand on the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, Hermione readied herself to jump aside at the last moment, just in case (she still had not forgotten the vinegar incident with Ginny). However, the cask's lid lifted open as it was supposed to, and the mouth of the barrel enlarged enough to allow them to enter.
The main of the common room was mostly empty; only three students were still awake, and all looked up at their entrance. One was a small second year boy, whose eyes widened at the sight of his older classmate, unable to support herself and being dragged in by some Ravenclaws.
Hermione noticed Draco taking in the interior of the Hufflepuff commons with guarded interest. While the plethora of plant life did not seem to offend him, the overstuffed chairs and sofas upholstered with black and yellow curled his lip almost immediately. He took in the honey-colored wooden hearth carved all over with badgers and muttered in an undertone, "Revolting."
"Pardon?" she prompted, unwilling to allow him his disdain.
He shook his head and merely said, "No wonder she's drinking."
A stab of unreasonable anger spiked through her and this time Hermione recognized it exactly for what it was: she was jealous of Pansy Parkinson!
Disgusted with herself for this weakness, she turned to the remaining two students in the common room. The two sixth year girls had clearly been engaged in a game of wizarding chess before she and Draco dragged Pansy in. Hermione addressed the curly-haired girl with glasses, who was closest: "Would you please show me which is the eighth year girls' dormitory?"
The girl, still staring, shyly pointed behind her at the nearest of many completely round doors that lined the enormous circular room. "They're just there."
Hermione thanked the girl and supported Pansy's weight onto herself, pointedly ignoring Draco. Three times she rapped sharply on the door the girl had indicated; she could feel the inhabitants of the common room still watching her.
Presently, her knock was answered by a girl Hermione recognized as Megan Jones, who was captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. She was an athletic girl, tall and muscular with clear, dusky skin, and long hair in many tiny cornrows. At first Megan's eyes rested on Hermione, and surprise showed in her gaze for a moment... until they came to rest on Pansy.
"Oh," the Hufflepuff said, her dark eyes veiled with distaste, "are you here to return that?"
An unexpected surge of sadness for Pansy came and dissipated in quick order. "Can you please let me in with her for a moment?"
Megan stood aside to open the door for Hermione so she could shuffle herself and Parkinson into the room.
The actual dormitories were remarkably similar to both Ravenclaw's and Gryffindor's. The beds were four-posters in a circle with hangings of pale yellow, while the wood was entirely made of oak. There were no windows – the primary difference from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers – but there was ivy climbing up most of the stone walls of the room. Hermione got a feeling like she was underground, almost in a burrow. It felt very fairy-tale like, with wrought iron filigree designs on the back of the completely round entry door.
She laid her charge none too gently on the bed Megan indicated - Pansy seemed to have completely passed out at this point - and arranged her so that she was on her side in case she should vomit again.
"She be'n drinking ag'in, huh?" prompted a voice with a thick, Scottish brogue from the other side of the room.
Hermione looked up and vaguely recognized Sally-Anne Perks, another student who – like Megan – had been Hufflepuff all eight years. The girl was known for being a dreadful gossip, though most of it was relatively harmless – and though she was also on the Quidditch team like her housemate, she was built quite differently. As a Keeper, she was borderline burly, with messy blonde hair.
How often does Pansy do this? Hermione wondered. Aloud, she said, "I've brought her here to let her sleep it off."
Her eyes flickered over briefly to the fourth bed, which was empty. Mandy Brocklehurst – a former Ravenclaw – was absent; she would currently be performing her own prefect patrols of the upper levels with Justin Finch-Fletchley.
"Right," Hermione muttered, now free of Pansy as a burden. "Well, I'll just leave her there, I guess."
"Awful nice o' you to've brung her," Sally-Anne grumbled with extreme sarcasm. "Couldn't've left her where'er she was, I su'pose?"
Hermione cast the Hufflepuff a look, "Of course not… and if she's making a habit of drinking, you need to report her to Professor Sprout."
"Why ain't you reportin' her, then?"
Good question…
"Be quiet, Sal, would you?" Megan suggested before Hermione could reply. "Just be glad she's out. You know she's worse when she's sober." Turning to Hermione she said, "We'll leave her be. She can sleep it off."
Filled with the distinct feeling that she was not doing Pansy any favors by not reporting the witch's apparent drinking problem, Hermione murmured, "Thank you."
Eager to leave and put the entire incident behind her, she turned on her heel and reached for the wrought iron door handle. The inhabitants of the common room stared at her again as she emerged, and Hermione noted Draco had left the commons altogether.
She found him waiting by the oaken barrels in the corridor outside. Alone again, they stood somewhat apart from one another. Draco offered, "Sorry about that."
Hermione said nothing; it was not quite good enough of an apology for her. Draco seemed to sense this.
The two began to head back toward Ravenclaw Tower for the evening and he continued, "I'm not sure what to do about her."
"She has a problem."
"Yes."
He appearing contrite a moment, clearly convinced he had shared too much about Pansy's problems. They stepped onto the staircase leading to the second floor and held the banisters for balance as the staircases commenced in rearranging themselves.
Hermione hated the empathy she felt for the situation and quickly hid it under her blanket of jealousy. "How long has Pansy had a problem? Since the war, or since you broke up with her?"
The staircase came to a rest just as Draco's head whipped around to look at her. Hermione watched with great interest as his public mask was swiftly put into place. "Myself and Parkinson? You must be joking, Granger."
"Don't 'Granger' me, Draco," she scolded. "Pansy said so herself tonight."
"Surely you don't believe…" he began to scoff.
"I already knew you and she had a past before tonight."
He fell silent. They emerged onto the third floor and headed directly for the fourth. "It was years ago now, nothing really."
"Pansy doesn't seem to think it was nothing."
"Are you jealous?"
"Of course not," she snapped.
His eyebrow raised a moment before he admonished, "Don't be jealous."
"I'm not."
Draco snickered under his breath, which only incensed Hermione more. In his most infuriating drawl he told her, "You're jealous over nothing."
"I'm not jealous, Malfoy. You have an ego larger than Britain itself," she retaliated. "I think it was a mistake not to bring Pansy to the Hospital Wing is all."
Interest piqued, he queried, "Why is that bothering you?"
"She has a problem - and she can't get help if no one knows, or is willing to do anything about it."
He shook his head as they ascended yet another staircase to the fifth floor, "I don't think Parkinson would welcome complete strangers knowing she has a problem."
"I don't really think it's a secret," she told him dryly. "Her roommates indicated this was a common occurrence for her."
This seemed to unsettle Draco more than Hermione would have expected, and they were silent until they reached the base of Ravenclaw Tower. She made to turn onto the final staircase, her hand already on the banister to head up.
Draco stopped. "Go up without me."
"Why?"
"I need a cigarette."
Haughtily, Hermione turned to face him and squared her shoulders, "You realize that when you're smoking, you're probably ruining my body, too…"
"I know – I know." He grit his teeth and she noticed for the first time that his hands were shaking. Without another word, he took off for the semi-hidden balcony concealed just behind the main staircase.
By the time she had followed him to properly tell him off, he had already lit a cigarette and was taking a long drag. Hermione swelled angrily. He might have some previously undiscovered good characteristics, but he also had the ability to make her more furious than anyone else she knew.
"That's disgusting."
He protested, "This is my first all week and it's Thursday."
"Fine – if you're going to pollute my lungs, at least tell me why you lied to me about Pansy."
He did not reply at once, instead expelling a great lungful of smoke into the air over the grounds. "Parkinson and I had an understanding of sorts in fifth year, but nothing more. Our parents were hoping it would result in a marriage. That was before…"
They both knew the reason. Hermione felt Draco's Dark Mark on her left forearm prickle unsettlingly. With a shiver, she consciously put her hand to her arm in discomfort.
Draco eyed the movement and agreed, "Sometimes I think it still knows."
"It should be impossible…" she trailed off. The thought swung ominously between them and she hastily continued, "So why didn't you get back together with Pansy once the war was over? If she was so important to you?"
"Are you kidding?" he snorted, "I do have some standards. Parkinson has slept around more than I care to think about."
"Then why do you care if she gets in trouble?"
He turned away from her. For the first time, Hermione sensed that he was actually annoyed at her probing, which only angered her more.
"Well?"
"I'll see you in Alchemy in the morning." He was continuing to face toward the opposite side of the balcony, as if she were beneath his notice.
"Are you dismissing me?" she demanded.
Another drag on the cigarette. With the exhale, he bade, "Good night, Granger."
"You are infuriating, Draco Malfoy!" she hissed before whirling on her heel and storming from the balcony and up the spiraling staircase of Ravenclaw Tower.
Theo had said there hadn't been more than snogging between Draco and Pansy in the past! But perhaps that had been true only physically... had Draco actually cared for her? For some reason, Hermione found it difficult to believe that a pre-war, fifteen-year-old Malfoy could care for anyone in that way – but then she had not exactly tried to get to know who he was, back then.
Just like that, she was slapped with the reality that she might be marrying that spoiled brat she had not thought capable of caring for a girl. Everything was surreal for a moment.
The guardian prompted, "What is it that given one, you'll either have two or none?"
She had not even realized she had reached the landing. "Can… can you repeat that, please?"
The door-knocker repeated the riddle and waited.
You are infuriating, Draco Malfoy!
"A choice," Hermione answered. The door to the common room swung inward to admit her.
Good night, Granger…
But the thing was - despite everything - Draco was her choice.
.
.
Author's Note: Eternal thanks to everyone who was kind enough to leave a review. Getting reviews is like being gifted snowshoes and then promptly getting enough snow to use them. I am also very grateful to my beta, I was BOTWP, for taking a look over this chapter before it went up. All the love.