Story Notes!
Hi…. and welcome to my entry for the Dramione 50k Classic fanfiction competition on AO3!
I'm delighted to say that this story won runner up in three categories, Overall Favourite Triad/Moresome story, Best Draco Characterisation and Best Triad/Moresome Relationship Development
I hope you like it!
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R. and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended.
Many, many, many thanks need to go to my wonderful alpha/beta champagneandliterature. Her input on this story has been invaluable. I truly couldn't have done this alone, so thank you very, very much indeed.
Thank you as well to the super talented KrysKrossZee for the stunning artwork that goes with this story. Thank you very much for bringing the story to life so beautifully.
Bring Me To Life
Chapter 1
Hermione looked at the clock for what felt like the millionth time that evening. Harry was late. Again. She sighed, restlessly slamming her book down and getting up to peer out of the window into the lamplit, shadowy square outside of Grimmauld Place. She knew it was a pointless exercise, she wouldn't see him approach, he would either apparate home or use the floo, but growing up in the muggle world had taught her to watch out of windows if someone was late home and it was a habit she couldn't seem to break.
She sipped from her glass of wine and pulled her dressing gown tighter around herself, perching in the bay window to watch the people hurrying by. There were couples walking hand in hand, a drunken neighbor swaying as he staggered home, and a businessman in a sharp suit carrying a briefcase, rushing off to somewhere unknown. Even at this time of night, the square was busy, but there was no sign of Harry. Where the hell was he? She groaned, knowing that she probably didn't want to know the answer to that.
She had a rather eerie sense of deja vu. She remembered sitting in this very window with Harry and Ron, staring into the square and keeping watch for Death Eaters during the war. Happily, she didn't have to worry about that particular threat these days, but the feeling of watching and waiting with the pit in stomach feeling like lead was the same, and it was currently triggering her not so well hidden anxieties. She drank the rest of her wine in far too short a time then accio'd the bottle over for a refill.
It was half-past eleven on a Friday evening, and she knew that most people would raise an eyebrow at her for freaking out about Harry's whereabouts at such an early hour. But, he had gone out straight from work, promising to be home by ten as he knew she hated being on her own at night.
One of Harry's best qualities was that he always kept his promises unless he was unable to. The last time anything like this had happened, he hadn't returned until the next morning when he'd sheepishly apologized, gone straight to bed, and refused to tell her where he had been. She still didn't know the exact details of that misadventure, but she knew that the muggle police had been involved, and with the mood Harry had been in all this week she was worried that tonight would be another night when he would get himself into trouble.
She sighed again, reaching for her glass and looking back into the dimly lit room.
Grimmauld Place looked as unwelcoming as ever. She shivered, glancing into the shadows and forcing herself to move back to the sofa to pick up the book she had been reading. The television was playing a film, but she had given up trying to watch that a long time ago. It was dark and cold in the lounge, the house was closing in on her and she really hated being alone.
She was barely noticing the effect the wine was having. These days she seemed to be drinking more and more, and the corresponding effect of the alcohol seemed to be getting less and less. The shadows looked like they were moving as she glanced back into the square and then into the foreboding room, her pulse picked up until it was thundering through her veins and her skin started to turn cool and clammy.
She opened her book back to where she had left off then waved her arm to light the candles in the darker corners. She could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coming on, her whole body was slipping into hyper-alert mode and her breathing was becoming tight and shallow. She had never liked this house, her and Harry's attempts to make it habitable had improved things considerably, it was now clean, dry, and freshly decorated, but it still felt unwelcoming, with far too much dark, intimidating space and too many unhappy memories.
She tried to calm herself using the techniques her mind healer had taught her, but nothing was working. She could feel unknown eyes on her, was it just the memory of Kreacher, prowling menacingly through the halls, or was something really there?
A flash of silver light on the television made her gasp. Had it been an innocent camera flash or was it the silver eyes of a Death Eater mask? With a squeak of fear, Hermione picked up her phone. She tried Harry again, but as she'd expected, there was no answer. She didn't know who else to call. Scrolling through her contacts, she paused at Ron's name and then sighed. She knew he would drop everything to help her if she asked, but the chances of him answering his phone at this time on a Friday evening were next door to nil.
No, Ron would be out living it up, as he always seemed to be these days. He'd probably have his arms around some willing witch right now, as he, Seamus, and Dean spent the night dancing in one of the more eligible nightclubs in wizarding London.
Her fingers paused over Ginny's name but she felt unable to call her either, Ginny would probably be away and resting, getting ready for the Harpies match the next day. Added to that, Hermione didn't think she had spoken to Ginny in weeks, or more likely months, she could hardly just call her up now to say that she was afraid of the dark.
She kept scrolling. Past Hannah, Luna, Neville, and Parvati's details, then she started at the beginning again and stared at the more surprising entries, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, and Pansy Parkinson. A year ago she would never have dreamt that those names would be in her contacts book, but there they were. Harry worked closely with Draco in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as Aurors, and Blaise and Pansy were Draco's friends. As the years passed and the more powerful feelings that had divided them during the war had mellowed, their friendships had grown, but not to the point where Hermione felt comfortable calling any of them with her current crisis.
Where the hell was Harry? She groaned as she swung her legs off the sofa again and stared once more into the dark square. She glanced back at the clock, but only ten minutes had passed since she had last looked. Being alone with her fears was becoming intolerable tonight. She sat back down as the realization crashed over her, she had no one that she was comfortable enough to call for help. She had cut herself off from everyone and she was alone. Harry was her everything and when he wasn't beside her, she went to pieces.
An hour later, after three more desperate scrolls through her useless phone, she gave in and called Ron. His phone rang until his cheery voicemail picked up and the sound of his familiar voice caused her to burst into tears. Struggling to speak, she swallowed her pride, asked him to call her back, and hung up. Then, giving in to anger and embarrassment at her self-induced predicament, she hurled the phone across the room in a fit of rage that would have rivaled Harry on a bad day, curled up into the fetal position, and cried herself to sleep on the sofa.
A sudden bang at the front door woke her, and she instinctively grabbed her wand, pointing it toward the door with a shaking arm before she had even properly opened her eyes. The door burst open and Harry was practically thrown over the threshold by a rather furious looking Draco. "Steady on," Harry protested, "you don't know your own strength!"
"I'm perfectly aware of my strength, thank you very much. It's not my fault that you can't hold your whiskey Potter. And, quit berating me, if I hadn't done what I did you'd have been in those bloody cells all night. Evening Granger."
Draco did a rather comical double-take at the sight of her in checked flannel pajamas, and a fleece dressing gown with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. "Where have you been?" she cried, "Oh Harry, what happened?!" Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, staring in horror at the angry black eye and bloodied nose that Harry was currently sporting. "Who did this?"
"Potter was arrested by the muggle police, Hermione. Drunk and disorderly was the charge they used." Draco sighed. "He nearly got Breach of the Peace and Affray added as well. Mate, you need to get a grip, if you're going to go out and get wasted, don't get into fights as well!"
"I didn't mean to get into a fight," Harry protested, "and I'm not actually that drunk. Yet. What's wrong with you 'Mione?" he swayed slightly as he stared at her with wide eyes as if noticing her for the first time. Merlin, did she look that bad?
"I, um, I was worried about you." She admitted, rushing forwards to hug him as Draco shook his head and crossed the kitchen, pointing his wand at the stove to set the kettle to boil.
"I'm fine!" Harry protested, pulling her into a rather unsteady hug. "But you're clearly not. I'm sorry I'm so late, it wasn't intentional. What happened, was it a panic attack?"
She nodded sadly, "I didn't know where you were, you said you'd be in by ten." She trailed off, squirming with embarrassment under the scrutiny of Draco's grey eyes. She knew she had overreacted, she didn't need him pointing it out. She took a deep breath, ready to defend herself if need be, but all that showed on his face was sympathy and understanding.
Why did everyone else in the world seem to be coping with life so much better than her and Harry? "What did you mean Draco, if you hadn't done what you did he'd have been in the cells all night? What did you do?!" her eyes widened as his words made their way through her still fuzzy brain making her gasp, "Harry! Were you really arrested? Again!"
Draco paused as he set mugs on the side and added teabags. A slight tension formed in his broad shoulders and Hermione froze. "What did you do Draco?" she almost shrieked, as memories of exactly what he was capable of flashed through her mind.
He spun around to face her. "I got him out of the cells! Jesus Granger, relax. Harry called me for help and I helped. Alright?"
"How did you get him out?" she grabbed Draco's arm as he turned away from her with a carefree chuckle to heap sugar into mugs. Realizing what she had done she released him with a jolt and stepped hurriedly back.
"A couple of confounding charms and one little Imperio which I've since deleted from my wand before you panic." He offered her a steaming mug of tea with a smirk, "As I said, Harry called and asked me to get him out, I got him out."
Hermione opened her mouth in shock. "You used magic in front of the muggle police?!"
Draco rolled his eyes, "Turn it down Granger, the whole street will hear you!"
"They won't," Harry said. "This house is privacy warded."
"Is it now?!" Draco cocked an eyebrow and Harry laughed. "That's good to know."
"Boys, focus! Malfoy you used magic in front of muggles, are you crazy?! An unforgivable curse as well!"
Draco rolled his eyes as if praying for patience. "No. Listen to what I'm telling you. I didn't use magic in front of muggles, I used magic on muggles. Those are two very different things. I deleted the unforgivable afterwards so no trace of it exists anywhere, and the only witness was Harry."
"But!" she huffed as he deliberately avoided the point. "You still used it!"
"Of course I fucking used it, you silly witch. Harry asked me to do something so I did it. Harry even admitted to calling me for that very reason. It's not your decision, it's not on your conscience. So," he smirked infuriatingly, "don't worry your pretty little head about it."
Hermione looked at Harry but he just shrugged. "Thank you," she said, finally taking the tea from Draco and settling herself rather stiffly at the table.
"Are you thanking me for the tea or for helping keep Potter on the straight and narrow?" Draco ruffled Harry's already unruly hair. Hermione blinked at the gentle way his fingers sank into the black strands, and the way Harry closed his eyes to lean into Draco's touch. It was a tender moment and it made the whole room freeze for a split second until Draco seemed to notice what he was doing. He yanked his hand away as if Harry's head had burnt him and set his tea in front of him. "Doesn't your hair ever lay flat?"
"No, Vernon, it doesn't," Harry said, rolling his eyes as Draco peered at him in confusion.
"Who's Vernon?" Draco settled down across the table, a very faint blush still coloring his cheeks.
"My Uncle," Harry said, touching his nose gingerly. "'Mione, I think my nose might be broken."
"It usually is." She looked around for her wand. Less than ten minutes ago she had been clinging desperately onto it in fear, now she had no idea where it was.
Draco picked his own wand up and pointed it into Harry's face. "Episkey." Harry jumped with a hiss of pain as his nose clicked back into place.
"Ouch!" he said, touching it gently.
"Stay there," Hermione watched as Draco stood up, took some paper towels off the roll by the sink, wet them, then handed them to Harry, "I draw the line at doing it myself, but here, clean yourself up, you look terrible."
"Thanks." Harry dabbed carefully at his nose with a wry smile as Draco sighed and Hermione fidgeted with her mug.
"Thank you for bringing him home," she said quietly. "I appreciate it."
"Even if you don't appreciate my methods?" he smirked, and as she bit her lip his smirk morphed into a rather fetching grin. "No problem. But seriously Harry, this isn't the first time, you've done this, you really need to get it together."
"Yeah, I know it's not. I will get it together a bit more I promise. After tonight that is. Anyway, I haven't had that much to drink, either that or it's worn off, do you fancy a nightcap?"
"Go on then." Draco stretched his arms up over his head, easing the tension out of his neck. Hermione watched him appreciatively as the move made his shirt ride up, leaving an expanse of milky white skin exposed. She stared at it appreciatively as Harry grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey from the shelf behind him and poured a hefty measure into each of their mugs.
Hermione watched the pair of them as they leaned back in their chairs, chatting easily. "What happened tonight anyway?" Draco asked. "You never told me why you got into that fight in the first place?"
"Oh, some guy thought it was okay to be abusive towards his girlfriend. He got all up in my face when I told him I didn't like his attitude, so I moved him out of it. Then his mate stepped in and did this," Harry indicated his still bloodied nose. "That's when the bouncers threw us out and it turned into a street fight."
Draco pinched the bridge of his own nose and sighed. "Gryffindors. You can't fix all of the world's problems, Harry."
"You'd have let that one go then, would you?" Harry challenged.
"No," Draco admitted, cracking his knuckles with another sigh, "I wouldn't actually. I hate men who are aggressive to women. The difference here is, if I'd have hit him, he wouldn't have got back up again. And his mate wouldn't have gotten anywhere near me."
Harry stared at Draco then nodded once in acceptance. "We're not all as big as you are though."
"Maybe not, but size isn't everything." Draco's tone changed rather abruptly and he grinned as Hermione blinked again. She was starting to feel like an intruder. What was going on here, since when had Harry and Draco flirted with each other so obviously? Had she grown so oblivious to the world around her that she had failed to notice what was clearly a growing attraction between them?
They were locked into each other's eyes, just gazing at each other until Draco cleared his throat and turned to Hermione with a lick of his lips. He seemed at a loss as to what to say next, Hermione gazed back at him and he smiled. "What's got you so upset tonight then Granger?"
She sighed, grateful that the sexual tension had eased, but wishing it had been replaced with a different subject. Draco was the last person she wanted to discuss her current mental health crisis with. He sat at the table with his life clearly together, looking unreasonably attractive and calmly taking control of the evening, while she felt like a frumpy nervous wreck in comparison. "Nothing important," she said finally, feeling her eyes brimming with tears again.
"Really?" he didn't look convinced but she didn't want to elaborate. Turning away she wiped a stray tear, hating how rude she was currently being, but feeling unable to go into any more details right now.
Draco stood up. He might have been the one to say that size didn't matter but really, it kind of did. He was huge, over six feet tall, toned, and fit from working out. She wondered what he did to stay in such good shape, she knew he played quidditch on the Ministry team, he and Harry shared the role of seeker and both of them were so far unbeaten, but simply flying a broom wouldn't give him muscles like that….
"Like what you're seeing tonight Granger?" he asked with a grin as he drained the last of his hot toddy. She blushed furiously and muttered something about overconfidence not being an attractive quality. He laughed. "Keep telling yourself that then, beautiful. You know where I am if you decide you want to find me."
He turned to Harry, "Can you keep yourself out of trouble for the rest of the night do you think?"
"Probably not." Harry sighed dramatically, and Hermione gasped in response to the scorching look he gave Draco.
She was even more shocked to see that the admiring look was returned. With interest. "I'd offer to stay to keep you occupied but that might just get us both into trouble," Draco said with a wink as Harry's eyes darkened in reply. "Assuming you can stay out of jail, I'll see you at work Monday. Unless," he paused, "unless you fancy coming out with us tomorrow evening?" He turned back to Hermione, "both of you that is. The White Wyvern in Knockturn Alley, 8 pm if you fancy it, Pansy and Blaise will be there along with a few others. Owl me."
"Couldn't I just text you?" Harry grimaced, it's much quicker.
"Owl me, text me, send me a fucking carrier pigeon if you prefer. Just get your arses to the pub tomorrow evening. Both of you." He flashed them both a heart stopping grin, turned on his heel and apparated away with a resounding pop.
"Go on then, let's get it over with," Harry turned back to Hermione with a grimace and poured another generous measure of whiskey into each of their cups.
"Get what over with?" she asked with a sigh.
"The lecture I wholeheartedly deserve."
"I don't have a lecture. I understand why you did what you did. I was just so worried about you, and I freaked out being here alone. Now I feel, oh I don't know what I feel." She downed the entire measure of whiskey, coughing as it burned her throat. "Silly is what I feel. Answer me one question though, please. Why did you call Draco and not me?"
Harry's eyes widened by a fraction then dropped to the table in front of them. "Because I knew he'd get me out of the cell without anything else ending up on my record."
She nodded. "Whereas I wouldn't?" To her dismay, Harry slowly shook his head.
She'd known that was the reason, but she'd needed to hear him say it. Harry had called Draco with his devil may care attitude and his questionable morality over herself, the girl who always did the right thing, the legal thing, the expected thing. The girl who was supposed to be his best friend. Right now she'd had enough of who she was and all that she currently stood for. "I'm going to bed."
Harry sighed as she stood up and swayed violently on the spot. "How much have you had to drink tonight, Hermione?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "I opened a bottle of wine," she staggered into the lounge, retrieved the almost empty bottle, and plonked it on the kitchen table with a bang. "Apparently quite a lot."
"Oh, 'Mione," Harry pulled a face as she sat back down. She just nodded. She knew what he meant without him needing to say anymore. Neither of them could carry on like this. They sat in silence for a few more minutes, both pondering the state that their respective lives and feelings were in. "Thank you," Harry said eventually.
"What for?"
"Being okay about this." Hermione watched him as he leaned back in his chair. He held her eyes with his own, and she caught a glimpse of the vulnerability that he very rarely let show. He was looking at her in the exact same way he had looked at Draco earlier. She gasped as the realization hit. Was he just drunk or was he flirting with her as well?
"What are you thanking me for?" She asked absently, aware that she had lost her entire train of thought in Harry's emerald eyes. Green as a fresh pickled toad, Ginny had once said. Hermione giggled, then stopped abruptly as she thought painfully of Ginny and her heart contracted with sadness at their current emotional distance.
"Tonight. Everything that's happened, why did you just giggle?" His face was the picture of confusion and she laughed again.
"I just remembered something. Then it made me sad." Hermione sighed. She had been going to tell him off, when he had fallen through the front door she had been ready to let rip at him but that was more due to her shredded nerves than anything else.
She was starting to dislike the image that other people seemed to have of her. It was true, she mused, she had become rather entrenched in her ideas of how people should behave. Her rule following and obsession with doing the "right" thing had become annoying, and seemed to have pushed her friends away.
Her current levels of anxiety had caused her to revert to the bossy know it all she had been at eleven years old and she hadn't even noticed it happening. The memory of Ron telling Harry that nobody liked her crashed into her mind with the force of the mountain troll that she'd been stuck in the bathroom with that same day. She didn't want to be that person anymore.
"Uh, Hermione? Earth to Hermione?" Harry was tapping his fingers on the table and it obviously wasn't the first time he had tried to get her attention.
"I think I'm going to take that job," she said.
"As an Unspeakable? I thought you turned it down again?" Harry asked, blinking at the abrupt change of subject.
"I didn't, actually. I just told you that so I could avoid having to talk about it anymore. I didn't want to face up to the reason I was hesitating about it so much."
"Oh." Harry watched her through narrowed eyes. "And what exactly is that reason?"
"I'm scared, Harry. I'm scared of everything right now. If you're not with me I'm scared of my own shadow. I hate working where I am, fighting for werewolf rights is almost impossible against the powers that be, but it's the type of job everyone expects me to have, so I have it, and I grit my teeth and I smile nicely when I want to punch my boss in the face. I've become so tied up with doing what everyone expects perfect little Hermione Granger-" she wiggled her fingers into air quotes, "-to do, that I've lost sight of what I want to do. I want to quit my stupid, frustrating job and go and be an Unspeakable. I've trapped myself into a little box of other people's expectations and I didn't even realize it."
She paused, looking sadly down at the table, "I was terrified earlier tonight, I looked through my phone and there was nobody, nobody that I felt I could call. I left Ron a hysterical message that he'll most probably pick up next week and then come flying round in a panic when it's miles too late. I literally have nobody, and nothing inspires me, everything is just flat, grey, and scary right now! Maybe I have to do what April, my Mind Healer says, and just go and do things anyway, even though they may be scary. I think we should go out tomorrow night. Merlin Harry, I can't live like this anymore! When I think, what we were, what we did five years ago, defeating Voldemort, we had excitement and color in our lives, feelings, and realness, and now it's just shades of grey. Gloomy, dark, boring grey. I think," she stood up and swayed on the spot, "I think I've had enough of living in a box."
"Okay," Harry said, regarding her curiously. "That spark of outright passion was just classic you, Hermione, but its been missing for a very, very long time." He grinned, "I hadn't realized how much I've missed it. We'll go out. You take the job. And if anyone says anything about you stepping outside of the box, tell them to shove the box up their fucking arse. And, if you can do all of that, then, as of tomorrow I'm not going to drink to excess anymore."
Hermione stared at him and seeing that he was serious, nodded in relief. Harry's eyes, intense at the best of times were once again fixed unblinkingly onto her. "Oh, there's one more thing while we seem to be confessing our sins."
"What?" She stood up and fetched two glasses of water, set one down for Harry, and sipped from her own.
"You might be right."
She narrowed her eyes. "How so?"
"Malfoy. Draco. There might have been a development." Hermione said nothing, just stroked a finger down the side of her glass and tried not to let her emotions show. She knew what Harry was going to say. She'd seen the way they both looked at each other, the way they spoke to each other, and then there were all those little hints of affection they'd shown each other tonight.
Her newfound and tenuous positivity abruptly fizzled away. She was suddenly terrified that she was going to lose Harry to Draco, just like she'd lost everyone else in her life. She didn't trust herself to look at him right away, her giggles and brief happiness were suddenly gone, and unreasonable tears were brimming yet again. She knew she would let her feelings show if she so much as raised her eyes to his.
"I think I like him," Harry continued, oblivious to her sudden despair, "and I think, although in truth I've had far more to drink than I admitted to him and therefore I could be misreading things, but I think he might like me too."
"Of course he does," Hermione snapped, much more harshly than she had intended. "Anyone can see that. And he asked you out tomorrow night-"
"Us, Hermione, he asked us. He likes you too. He likes both of us."
Hermione snorted in a very unladylike way. "Don't be ridiculous!"
"I'm not." Harry stared at her very intently. "He told me he liked you ages ago, he's never made a secret of that fact, he's just never done anything about it. Anyway," he stood up, giving her a pointed stare, "Triads are all the rage these days in the magical world it would seem, or so he keeps telling me anyway. Think about it. I'm going to bed." He paused at the door, "come sleep with me tonight Hermione, please? I don't want you to be alone, you seem a bit emotional still."
She nodded, watching him leave the kitchen with a sigh. When she made it upstairs ten minutes later he was already asleep, so she slipped under the duvet on her usual side and felt him move towards her. He sleepily reached out and she snuggled back against him in their usual sleep position, finding it instinctively, even though they hadn't slept like this for a while.
"Love you, 'Mione," Harry whispered. "I've always loved you and I always will." She smiled sadly. While that was undoubtedly true, she knew that there was a very big difference between loving someone platonically, the way Harry loved her and being in love with somebody. "Oi!" he nudged her and she turned her face towards him in the dark, "you're supposed to say it back."
"Oh!" despite herself she laughed. "Feeling a little insecure are you?" his answer was a low growl deep in his throat as he pulled her closer into him. Rather confusingly she could feel him hard and twitching against her lower back. That was new. She arched against him very slightly to test his intention then gasped softly as he rolled his hips, pressing very deliberately into her.
She gasped again, feeling her nipples harden underneath her flannel pajamas. Harry's fingers curled around her hip as he moved against her once more. "Just so you know, even if you won't say it back, I do love you, and I meant what I said about the triad thing. If you change your mind, let me know."
A moment later he relaxed against her, still holding her but not in the same way as before and very soon she heard his breathing settle as he fell asleep. Hermione shifted in his arms and let out a long, quiet sigh. "I do love you, Harry, that's the problem," she whispered. "I've always loved you and i always will."
It took Hermione a very long time to get to sleep that night. She snuggled into Harry's arms, feeling them tighten protectively around her each time she moved. She smiled sadly, it was as if, even in his sleep he was scared she would try to leave him.
She knew he liked Draco, even if it had taken him a while to realize it himself. No one could miss the heated glances they both threw each other, or the sharp innuendos that seemed to slip so easily into their conversations. She had a suspicion that half of the reason they had both been so obsessed with each other at school was because they both harbored secret feelings for each other.
The problem was that despite Harry's mention of a triad, she was sure it was just the whiskey talking. Things like that never happened in real life and in reality once Harry and Draco got together, which she thought was inevitable now, there would be no space left for her.
When Harry and Draco got it together, she really would have nobody. She had to sort her life out. On that thought, and in Harry's sweet but oblivious arms she silently cried herself to sleep.