Chapter thirty-six – Of Force
They backed into the room, Hermione's kiss passionate and demanding. Both their breathing was shallow, and quick-paced. Draco felt dazed. Everything seemed surreal, dreamlike.
Hermione parted his lips with her tongue, and gasped when he obliged. He was as skillful a kisser as ever. He bit her lower lip, and massaged her tongue with his own. Hermione felt goosebumps rise on her skin, hairs rise on the back of her neck. He was what she wanted, what she needed . . .
How could she have denied herself this for so long . .. . when it felt so right . . .
His hands softly gripped her honey-brown locks, and then slowly traveled to the small of her back. He held his hands there delicately. They were nearly shaking.
But, as sweet as his tender touch was, and as much as it made her feel what she had felt for him for so long, Hermione needed a rough, demanding, immediate relief to her long-overdue midnight ambush.
She let her hands slide down his chest to the hem of his jumper and tugged it upwards. His lips stopped moving. Apparently he was shocked by her incentive.
But Hermione didn't miss a beat. When his lips ceased their dextrous and arousing movements, she pulled her head back for a moment and pulled the jumper up again. This time he obliged after slight hesitation. He raised his arms and she peeled it from his pale skin.
His chest was a beautiful, provoking sight. She crashed her lips onto his the second the jumper was clear of his face. He answered with more eagerness this time.
Hermione placed one hand on the back of his head – she couldn't believe how much she loved the feel of his hair – and the other just on his ribs below his underarm (she also couldn't believe how amazing the sensation of his skin in contact with hers was, too).
Draco, in one swift movement, removed her tie and let it fall to the ground. He then, starting from the bottom, undid the bottons of her blouse quickly. Hermione, feeling that nothing could move fast enough and that she just couldn't get close enough to him, crushed herself into him greedily.
They backed up further in a crooked path and ended by bumping into his dresser. Some things clattered to the ground, but they paid no mind.
Their lips parted, and they gathered breath. Draco left a trail of kisses down Hermione's neck, now feeling the urgency that she was feeling. Hermione moaned and his heart skipped a beat. How long had it been since they had kissed? Since she had been this close . . . ? His insides were burning again.
"Hermione . . ." he whispered, his lips by her ear. He sucked on her earlobe for a moment. She held him tighter and arched her back.
"Hmmmm," she sighed, her lips on his again.
Hermione flicked her shoes off, one by one, and Draco heard them hit the floor. He quickly stepped out of his own, too. He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't understand it. He loved her, he wanted her, and he couldn't believe that she was here now, in his arms like this.
Draco placed his hands on her waist and, using his body pressed against hers as leverage, lifted her so that she was perched on top of his dresser. She gasped and kissed him harder than before. It drove him crazier to see how much she liked it.
She wrapped her legs around him and began to move her hips against his. Draco slid his hands beneath her blouse. It was open, revealing her bra and beautiful skin. He slid his hands around her stomach to her back and held her against him.
Hermione then released him, and though it was difficult, it wasn't impossible to reach between them to his jeans. Hurriedly, hands nearly shaking, she undid the belt and pulled it apart. Draco's heart was hammering a hole in his chest.
Hermione opened the button and then undid the zipper.
And Draco's head spun.
As much as he loved this girl, and as much as he wanted this – and apparently, she did, too – he suddenly realized that this might not be such a good idea . . .
They hadn't really spoken in . . . how long was it? Weeks? The last time they had really spoken was a horrible fight . . . and Draco still didn't know why he had confessed to those horrible acts . . . nothing was where it should be . . . nothing was really fixed . . .
He was very, very grateful that Hermione had decided to overlook all of the mess and come to him . . . but didn't she deserve better than all of this? Didn't she, too, deserve to understand what had happened? And then they could be together and never have to wonder about it . . . never have that stupid doubt in their minds . . . Draco could reassure her, she could believe him . . .
Draco couldn't believe this. He released her lips, breathing heavily, and reached down and grabbed her wrists lightly.
"Hermione . . ." he said softly.
"Mm?" she answered, kissing him again.
He turned his head. "Hermione." She kissed his neck. "Hermione . .. Hermione . . .. stop."
She pulled her head back and stared at him.
"What?" she said blankly.
He looked at the ground. He shook his head softly. He removed his hands from her. The same time he took a swift step backward, she slipped off of the dresser.
"What are you doing?" he asked quietly, his heart still hammering. He hated that he had stopped, but at the same time knew how much he would regret it if he had kept on going and just ignored everything else but his primal instincts and most primitive needs.
Hermione's head was also raging, again throbbing, tearing in two. Hadn't this been the exact thing she had not wanted to do? Come crawling back? Knowing how much it would hurt afterwards? One minute she could feel nothing but bliss for this boy, and the next she would realize how stupid she was . . . why did she do this? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
"I don't know. Sorry. It was a mistake," she said quickly, not meeting his eyes now. She did up the most vital buttons on her blouse and turned towards the bathroom door.
Draco hesitated a moment. He could not let her walk in here, and then just walk out. He couldn't let her walk away anymore. He was done accepting. It was time to fight.
He stepped forward once again and grabbed her wrist. She turned, abruptly furious from embarrassment and ripped her hand from his.
"Don't–," she began, but he cut across her.
"No, you don't," he said, also angry. She couldn't just come in here and kiss him like that, like she loved him, like she forgave him, and then walk out when all he was trying to do was the right thing. "You came up here. You knocked on my door. You can't just turn around and leave like this. We're talking. Now."
"Don't order me around!" she huffed. "Yes, I did come up here, and I already said it was a mistake!"
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but didn't want to do so without thinking for a moment first. He didn't want to blurt out anything and make things worse. He closed his mouth, turned around and took in a deep breath.
"All I'm trying to do is talk, here. You're the one who kissed me."
Hermione was silent for a moment. "Talk. About. What," she said through her teeth, still angry.
Draco thought it through quickly. She could decide to turn and leave at any moment. The most vital issues should be dealt with first.
"How about your latest gentleman caller."
Draco turned back around to face her, just in time to see her mouth fall open. For the first time since she had come to the door, he saw the dried tears on her face.
"What?" she breathed. He couldn't know. How? It was impossible . . .
"You heard me. Please don't play dumb. It's a question. What the hell is going on, Hermione? You won't even speak to me and you'll let that stupid monstrous pig take advantage of you? You must know how wrong that is."
Hermione stared at him. Of course she knew. That's why she had decided to end it. That's what had driven her to see that she wanted Draco . . . that's why she had come up here . . .
"Don't criticize me like that . . ." she said, shaking her head and looking down. She was ashamed, yes, he could see that. But she wouldn't stand for him to chastise her for things when he had hated and disregarded her for the last six years. She had credit to call on. He wasn't exactly perfect.
"I'm not criticizing you. I'm asking why the hell you would do such a thing," he corrected. "You're Hermione, and you can deny it all you want, but I know you. You wouldn't do that. Whatever drove you to such lengths is beyond me."
"Is it?" she said quietly, looking back up at him. She grimaced, shameful visions flashing through her memory. She wasn't proud of it, but she never would have done it had she not needed some love and comfort and assurance.
Draco processed that for a moment. "Because of me?" he said, disgusted. "Don't say that. I would have allowed it to happen had I known! You can't blame me for this! That's the last thing on earth I would ever want! – to hand you to another guy when I'm standing right here!"
"And what does that mean?" Hermione said, affronted.
"What do you think! I've been trying to talk to you for weeks! Trying to figure out how to apologize to you, figure things out, and I find out you've just . . . decided to . . . with that stupid git!?"
"What are you saying? – you still care about me?" she said sardonically.
"Don't pretend like you don't believe it," he said sourly. "Just stop pretending."
"Excuse me?"
"Hermione," he said firmly. "When I opened the door to you, that was the first real glimpse of you I've seen in weeks. I don't know what you're trying to hide, but it's not working."
Hermione glared at him. "I really don't know what to think anymore. How to act. What to do. What to say. You want to see some truth? Some honesty? I don't know what happened with you and that stupid confession . . . when you told me it was better if we never were or weren't together or whatever nonsense you told me . . . when you walked away from me . . . Truth is, I think I'm an idiot for thinking that you're a good person beneath all of that. I think I'm stupid for trying to see through that wall of lies and deceit and years of torture and arguing and looking at . . . what? Did I imagine it all? Were you lying? How am I supposed to really know? I have six years against you, three best friends, and most recently, you walking out of my life like you were never important. And for you, I only have my stupid gut. Instinct.
"I don't know how to think or say or feel about this. All I know is, if I keep letting myself cave to instinct, I keep getting crushed to pieces. I can't keep getting broken apart like that. It's just not worth it at the end, when I don't end up with anything but a lesson learned."
As much as her words sliced into him like knives, he wouldn't waste time. He could think about that later.
"That doesn't answer my question. What about him."
Hermione took a deep breath, and looked away again. Shameful. Embarrassing.
"Why do you even care?"
They just looked at each other. His eyes demanded an answer. She didn't know why she felt compelled to oblige, but something pushed the words out of her mouth.
"There's no him. Nothing. Not anymore."
He balked for a moment. Not anymore? That's not exactly what he had wanted to hear . . . but, it was better than his worst fear.
"Happy now?" she sneered. "Can I leave?"
"No you cannot bloody leave!" he snarled under his breath. "Hermione, you are going to listen to me, listen to reason. I am here, standing here, have been standing here. For you. Waiting. Hoping. And trying. You can keep denying and denying and ignoring and wasting time, but that doesn't change why I am still here, and what I feel. Sorry, you don't have that power."
"What you feel? And what is that, exactly?" she said bitterly.
"Do I need to spell it out for you?" he retorted, equally as bitter. "Dammit, Hermione, how can you stand there and pretend like you don't love me, too?"
"Because it's not true," she said quietly, unnerved. She looked down again.
"I know you're lying. You're a horrible liar, remember? I told you I know you better than anyone. Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me. That you don't want to be with me." He paused. "The Hermione I know doesn't kiss like that without any feelings behind it. Your just not the type."
She looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. "Too bad you left, isn't it?" she said quietly. She looked down and shook her head. "It's too late, Draco. Things aren't the same."
"So? Change is good."
"Stop."
"No."
"Just give up, I'm done playing games with you."
"Because you know I'll win."
"Then I forfeit."
"You're no quitter."
They stared intensely at each other, a smirk playing at the edges of Draco's lips. Hermione looked unsure.
"Goodbye, Draco," she said suddenly, and turned around to leave. She pushed the bathroom door open, but once again Draco grabbed her wrist and spun her around.
He kissed her. Force. That's all he had left.
She pushed him away and turned back around, tears streaming down her face. "I can't do this anymore!" she said through sobs. Her door closed behind her.
Draco stared after her. He smirked, happy for the first time in weeks.
She had kissed him back. She still wanted him. She still cared. She still loved him. There was only the matter of figuring out the rest of the puzzle . . .
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Ginny slammed the portrait behind her, seething. How dare Draco Malfoy hide things from her? When she was trying to help the stupid prat? Why she ever believed his ridiculous story . . . was beyond her now. She couldn't understand how she had let herself get sucked into this mess. She felt like an idiot now.
Sure, it was clear that Hermione still wanted the Ferret, but why? Ginny hadn't a clue. Ginny realized that she had witnessed a side of him unknown to her, and probably all but Hermione, previously. She had heard him say things like 'love' and 'kiss'. She had seen his eyes get soft. She had seen him stutter in Hermione's presence.
Ginny growled, flipped out the invisibility cloak and draping it around her. She sighed.
So, she guessed she would torture him for a few days, and then if his apology was good enough, she would get back into it. She just needed a break from talking to him. After five years of silence and animosity towards one another, it was a dangerous overload to start being civil now.
Ginny walked towards the Gryffindor tower, thinking about Hermione, about Malfoy. She really did wonder how they had fallen so hard for each other. They had hated each other. Ginny was kind of looking forward to getting them together again, and then maybe Hermione could tell her the whole story with all the details . . .
Harry and Ron would be going berserk about it, of course . . .
Ginny then remembered that Harry had known about this before her. She should ask him about it, about what happened, what he had done about it. After all, he and Malfoy were like sworn enemies since day one of Hogwarts. Harry had probably busted a vein over this.
Ginny wondered how he had kept it a secret? Maybe he had just decided not to mention it to anyone once he saw that they were over, after that stupid New Year's party and Malfoy's idiotic confession . . . hm.
Ginny now decided that she was going to talk to Harry about this. Maybe he would know something that could help her get them back together . . . of course, she wouldn't tell him that he was helping, she would just make sure he told her everything he knew.
Ginny had just turned a corner and felt in her robes subconsciously that her wand wasn't where it should've been. Ginny quickly reached inside her robes, panicked, and realized that it wasn't there. She sighed angrily. She had left it on the table in Malfoy's common room.
She stood for a moment, deciding whether or not it was safe to break curfew further. She could just get up super early and go and get it . . . But then Harry or Ron or someone might see her. And she did have the invisibility cloak at the moment . . .
She set back on her way, muttering angrily to herself. She had stormed out perfectly, and now she had to go back and ask for her wand. Horribly awkward. She couldn't pretend she was so angry with him anymore. So much for the few days of torture.
Walking down the corridor, she saw two figures ahead of her.
One was Hermione.
Who was the other?
It was a boy. Very tall. They were talking in low voices to one another. Ginny followed quietly, and tried to speed up without making any noise with her feet. It was hard.
Who was that? She had never seen him in classes before . . . but how did he then look familiar? She couldn't see his face properly through the shadows. Hermione's figure was easily recognizable to her hair.
As the two rounded a corner, light shining in from a window hit them for a moment and Ginny stopped dead in her tracks, her mind reeling.
Professor Dolop?
Why were they walking together so late at night? Ginny quirked her brow. It was probably just Hermione being extra inquisitive about an assignment or something. Leave it to Hermione to be almost late for her curfew because of homework.
But still . . . something seemed off . . .
Ginny stood for several seconds before she hurried to follow them again. She finally caught up to the corner, and when she rounded it, nearly shrieked.
Professor Dolop slammed Hermione into the wall, his mouth ravaging hers.
Ginny's mouth fell open, and she reached for her wand subconsciously. It wasn't there, she remembered.
She stared, frozen, her heart beating a bruise inside of her. What? What was going on? She didn't understand. All she could do was stare.
She saw Hermione's hands against the wall, saw her reluctant expression, and wondered why she didn't push the creep away . . .
Professor Dolop grabbed Hermione's leg and Ginny took an offensive step forward. She didn't care that she shouldn't be here. They shouldn't be there either. He shouldn't be doing that either.
Ginny saw Hermione pull her face back, and swallowed hard. He wasn't stopping. Hermione looked dangerously upset. Ginny took another shaky step forward. This was so surreal.
And then, suddenly, Hermione shoved him away and cried, "Stop!"
She ran to her door, sobbed the password and the portrait swung open.
"Wait!" Professor Dolop called, taking a step forward. He halted when Hermione held up her hand.
"No. G-go away, please."
The portrait door shut. Ginny froze, glaring at Professor Dolop.
So this is what Malfoy had been afraid of. Well, he was right to be afraid. Dolop was a pig. Stupid. Perverted. Arse.
Dolop stood there for a moment, staring at the door. He then slowly turned and began walking towards Ginny. His face was angry. He was muttering to himself. Swearing. Ginny pressed herself against the wall as he passed. She had never seen him so mad. He looked vicious, dangerous. Ginny suddenly felt afraid to be close to him. She felt afraid for Hermione, even though she was safely inside her dorm now.
He passed her, still muttering, and walked quickly down the corridor. Ginny sighed silently, her head spinning. No way had that just happened. What was with Hogwarts these days? Everything was a mess. Nothing made sense.
Ginny knew that she couldn't go to the door now and ask for her wand, not after what she had just seen, and not after Hermione was inside. She probably wanted to be alone.
As Ginny walked back to Gryffindor tower unsteadily, she couldn't wait until tomorrow to tell Malfoy what she had seen, about what a creep Dolop was. They had to tell someone. He shouldn't be a teacher. For crying out loud, he should be in Azkaban!
Ginny lay in bed for a long time that night, thinking and rethinking everything. She decided that the idea of Malfoy and Hermione didn't seem so outrageous or ridiculous or impossible anymore. In fact, she was kind of really rooting for them now.
What a crazy world.
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The next morning, Ginny could barely think straight. Part of her wondered if what she had witnessed last night was a weird dream, but the smarter part of her told her that it was real. She still couldn't really even comprehend how any of this could have happened. She never knew Hermione could be so mysterious. Ginny remembered the first time Hermione had dressed up. The boys had gone mad over her. Everyone had gawked as she walked down the halls. No one minded her persistence in class anymore.
Apparently Hermione had managed to attract two people that should have never been attracted to her. Ginny just couldn't believe she was on Malfoy's side one hundred percent on something. This was a historical event. She should probably write it down somewhere.
Her morning classes slowly passed by, and she paid not one bit of attention. How could she? There was just so much going on . . .
Once the lunch bell rang, Ginny headed straight for the Head's Dormitory. Malfoy had to know. And know now.
She stood in front of the portrait and knocked five times, hard and quickly. It felt strange to stand here in the daylight. She looked to her left and the horrid, repulsing image of Professor Dolop attacking Hermione was still fresh in her mind. She shook her head and looked up at Malfoy as he opened the door.
"Malfoy!" Ginny said. "I have got to tell you something –!" She paused. "Oh, is Hermione here?" she whispered. He shook his head, so she pushed passed him and stepped inside. Once she did, she suddenly realized that Malfoy was smiling. A huge, ridiculously happy smile was stretched across his pale features. Ginny did a double take. She had not seen him actually happy in a while.
She hated to crush that. But she had to do what she had to do.
"Why are you–? Oh never mind," she said. It wouldn't matter why he was happy in a moment, anyway. "Look, Malfoy . . . I finally found out what you wanted me to find out . . ."
He froze. And then his smile slowly disappeared. "You did? How? When?"
"Last night . . . I forgot my wand . . .oh, speaking of . . ." She walked over to the coffee table and snatched it up. "Well, anyway, I forgot it here and halfway to the Gryffindor tower, had to come back . . .but on my way, I saw Hermione . . . with Professor–"
"– Dolop," Malfoy finished her sentence for her, his tone low and dangerous. Ginny nodded.
"You . . .knew? But how? Why didn't you tell anyone? Malfoy, this is so, so bad! What are we going to do?"
"Ginny, calm down . . ." he said, trying to clam himself down. "What did you see, exactly?"
Ginny paused. "I don't think you want –"
"Just say it," he demanded, his eyes glinting metallic with anger. "Just tell me."
"I . . . well . . .he sort of . . . attacked her!" Ginny said, unable to hold it in. "He pushed her into the wall . . . and kissed her . . . and he just kept on and on . . . and then she pushed him away and yelled at him. I think she was crying. What is wrong with him?"
Malfoy took a moment to absorb that. Hermione had pushed him away. And then she had come to him. Well, at least he knew that whatever had been going on with them was over. And she had chosen him over Dolop. That much he could be grateful for.
On the other hand . . . Dolop was a disgusting, evil pig. And he was going to get his . . .
"Malfoy, that face is really scary," Ginny quipped.
He realized the lividness that contorted his features and relaxed a little. "Okay," he said. "Okay, well, it's fine . . . it's over, anyway . . ."
"How do you know? I mean, that was just last night . . ."
And then Ginny suddenly remembered his broad smile.
"Wait," she said, narrowing her eyes. "When Hermione came back . . . did you see her?"
The look on his face told her that yes, yes he sure did.
"Well," he cleared his throat. "Actually, she came to see me."
"And!?" she squealed, her eyes bright and wide. "What happened!"
"Er, well," he said awkwardly. He cleared his throat again. "We, er, well. We kissed."
"Malfoy! That's great! So everything's good again?" she asked.
He paused. "Not quite. First, I have to figure out why the hell I confessed to something I didn't do. Next, I still have to make sure that everything will actually work out with me and Hermione. And well, I can't exactly let Dolop off scot-free, can I?" He said that last part as a threat.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa . . . slow down, Malfoy," Ginny warned sternly. "How do you plan on figuring out what happened with the whole confession thing, exactly?"
"Well, I was thinking I'd talk to Professor McGonnagal and Dumbledore. If I tell them the whole story, they'd probably have some suggestions . . ."
"Okay, well . . . what about the other thing? How are you going to make sure that things 'actually work out with you and Hermione'?"
"Well," he said, thoughtful. "I thought about what you said before. I think that it would be better for everyone that . . . well, you and I are now civil to one another, right? So, I was thinking, it might be worth a shot to actually go and speak to Potter and your brother."
It was quiet for a moment.
"You would actually do that?" Ginny asked blankly.
"Of course," he answered immediately, and then at the grin on her face, added, "Well, I mean, to make things easier for everyone, why not?"
"Sure, okay," she said, still grinning. Then she stopped smiling. "And you're going to stay away from Dolop. Dumbledore will deal with that."
"I think he deserves a little more than getting sacked, don't you?" He was glaring again.
"Let's just put it this way, if I had had my wand with me last night, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Ginny said.
"So then why do you have a problem with –?" Malfoy demanded.
"Because, I was angry and shocked beyond my life and I thought he was actually attacking her . . . I was going to jinx him to the next life to keep him away from her. But this is different."
"How."
"Because, now she's with you again. She doesn't want him. Trust me, I saw the look on her face. She looked awful. So upset. And so, so mad."
Malfoy hesitated. "I make no promises."
Ginny sighed. She supposed that was the best she would get right now. "Okay, well then . . . where are you going to start with all of this?"
Malfoy thought for a moment. "Well, seeing as how I have no clue how to really start about the whole weird confession thing . . . I guess . . . I'll start with . . . Potter."