AN: So this week my previous fic "The Journal" surpassed 1,000 reviews, which is so freaking cool! Thank you to my readers that have been with me from the beginning, and to the ones I've picked up along the way. I wonder if this story will ever reach that milestone? I guess we'll see. LOL
As always, thanks to Bex for fixing my mistakes – and thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing. This is my favorite chapter so far. Feel free to drop me a review and let me know if you agree. : )
Lost Souls of Nott Castle
Chapter 8 – Firewhiskey
Draco sat at the bar wishing he was just about anywhere else. Theo and Daphne were dry-humping on the dance floor. Blaise and Pansy were examining each other's tonsils in a corner booth. And Draco was getting dirty looks from just about every other person in the nightclub.
How in the world had he let those two talk him into this little excursion? He should have just stayed at home in the library with Granger. Not for the first time that evening, he found himself wondering what she was doing. He wondered idly if she was still studying transfiguration, or if she had moved on to charms yet. Maybe she had tired of studying and had decided to explore the grounds. Or better yet, perhaps she was soaking in a luxurious bubble bath.
He shook his head to dispel that particular disturbing thought. Red hair caught the corner of his eye. He turned to see Ron Weasley and some blonde bimbo groping each other on the dance floor. Disgusting.
That was all it took for him to determine he had enough fun for one evening. He finished his drink and headed for the door. He was not in the mood for a confrontation that night, so he steered clear of where he knew the Weasel was and he went home alone.
The castle was quiet when he appeared in the sitting room. He made his way to the second floor, but stopped in front of the door to his rooms. He hesitated and his eyes glanced towards the door to the left of his. He contemplated knocking on her door. What would he say, though, if she answered?
It was an awful idea, he decided. Better to let it be. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration and turned back to his own door. He had just opened the latch and swung the door open when he heard the floo activate.
He watched from the shadows of his doorway as she made her way up to her room.
Her eyes were cast down towards her feet. Her shoulders slumped forward. Her arms wrapped around her stomach. It was obvious by her body language that she was upset about something.
She paused outside of her door. Her head tilted back towards him slightly. Did she know he was standing there, watching her?
After a moment, she opened her door and disappeared inside. He waited for the door to close behind her, but it never did.
He hesitated for a moment. It really was not any of his business. But he was curious.
It seemed like he was always curious anymore when it came to her.
His feet moved on their own accord, carrying him closer and closer until he found himself standing in her open doorway.
He found her curled up on her couch, staring at nothing. She had that lost look again.
He cleared his throat.
"Alright there, Granger?" He asked.
"Hey Malfoy." She didn't seem surprised to see him.
He reasoned that she must have left the door open on purpose, then. He took that as a good sign and stepped further into the room.
"Honestly I expected to find you in the library when I got home." He took a seat in the armchair next to her.
"Harry asked me to meet him for dinner." Her eyes held that faraway look.
"Potter?" He scoffed. "What the hell did he want?"
She sighed and pushed her hair behind her ears. Then she pulled her knees up to her chest.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
He took a minute to observe her. Her hair was falling over her shoulder and hung almost to her waist. The unruly curls and frizz that he remembered was gone, replaced with soft waves. Her brown eyes glistened in the candle light. The clothes she had borrowed from Anna's closet fit her perfectly, hugging her curves in all the right places.
The awkward girl that had irked him so much as a child was gone. In her place was a beautiful young woman.
His heart stuttered at the thought. His younger self would have been loath to admit it, but there was no denying her beauty now.
"Tell me something, Malfoy." She broke the silence. Only then did he realize he had been staring at her for far longer than he would like to admit. "Why are you living here instead of Malfoy Manor?"
His throat went dry. That was not something he would like to discuss. Not with her, not with anyone.
"That's a long story," he answered stiffly.
She raised her brow and checked the time. It was barely ten o'clock.
"Do you have somewhere else you need to be?" She asked.
He hadn't told anyone his true reason for not returning to Malfoy Manor. If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to tell someone. He wanted to say it out loud, to put it out there. She might be the one person he could tell without being judged. Still, he was going to need a drink for this particular conversation.
"Fine. Come with me." He didn't wait for her to follow, but he knew that she would. The sound of her boots on the stairway behind him proved he was right.
At the bottom of the stairs, he walked past the sitting room and opened the next door to the study. Hermione wasn't far behind him. She closed the door behind her and sat down at the round table in the corner.
He opened a bottle of firewhiskey and set out two glasses, filling them each with three fingers of Ogden's Finest. Then he sat down in the chair next to her.
"I'll tell you what you want to know, but for every question I answer, you answer one of mine." His eyes locked on hers. She swallowed thickly.
"On one condition. Anything said here tonight stays between us." She held out her wand. He hesitated a moment, then held his wand against hers in an oath. The tips glowed yellow as the magic infused them.
He took a sip of his drink and felt it burn all the way to his stomach.
"After the battle at Hogwarts, my father was livid. He found out that I had fought against several Death Eaters, and I didn't cross the courtyard when everyone thought Potter was dead." He paused to take another sip, and to gain a little liquid courage for the next part of the story. "He declared me to be a blood traitor. He disowned and disinherited me, kicked me out of the Manor, and changed the wards so I can't go back, even if I wanted to, which I don't."
She gasped audibly. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth and her eyes widened.
"I figured I was going to Azkaban anyway, so I didn't even care. Then some witch came along and stuck her nose in my business," he said with a smirk as he held his glass out to her in a pointed gesture. "So instead of a cushy cell in the worst prison in the world, I found myself homeless. I asked Theo if I could crash here. Told him the Manor held too many bad memories. Here I am."
"Theo and Blaise don't know?" She asked.
"No one knows but me and my father. And you." He took another sip. She took her first.
"So what you're saying is that you are just as destitute as I am." Her lips quirked up in a smirk on one side.
"Well, not quite." He ran his hand through his hair. "I do have a personal vault with my inheritance from my grandfather. It isn't much compared to the Malfoy family vault, but it would be enough to live off of for a little while I suppose."
"Of course you do," she sighed. "So besides losing the Manor and the vault, what does being labeled a blood traitor mean?"
He considered her question for a long moment, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass and watching it dance in the low light.
"It means I'm free," he responded quietly. "Free to do what I want, say what I want, be with whomever I want, without any pressure to maintain the Malfoy pureblood status."
A great weight lifted off of his chest as he said those words aloud for the first time. The truth in them washed over him and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. He looked up to find her smiling at him. It was the first true smile he had ever seen on her that was directed at him. Warmth seeped through his veins.
"My turn," he said as he cleared his throat. "What did Potter want?"
Her face fell and she reached for her glass.
"He moved into the townhouse his godfather left him. He wants me to move in with him." She shivered involuntarily and took another drink.
"As his girlfriend," she added. The look on her face could only be described as horror. She looked like she might get sick. He couldn't blame her. The thought made his stomach turn, too.
"Don't get me wrong. Harry is a good guy. He's been my friend since we were eleven years old. And we've been through some serious shit together." Her knee started bouncing in agitation and she chewed on her bottom lip. She took another sip of her drink. "I don't know. I just...he said he needed me."
His brow raised in question as he waited for her to elaborate.
She sighed deeply and twirled her hair around the end of her finger.
"I don't want to be with someone that needs me. I want to be with someone that wants to be with me. You know?" She shrugged her shoulder and looked down at the floor. "I might never find someone like that, but it might happen, someday."
He had the urge to reassure her that she would find someone someday, but what did he know? She was talking about love, and he didn't know anything about that. Until a few months earlier, he assumed he would marry whomever his father made the marriage contract for. Love had nothing to do with it.
"Well, you can definitely do better than Potter, that's for sure."
"You are just saying that because you hate him." She smiled and rolled her eyes.
"It is true that I hate Potter and the Weasel. But you need someone that has at least half a brain. Otherwise he'll never keep up with you and he'll just end up dragging you down."
"Thank you, Malfoy." She smiled a little wider and took another sip of her drink. Her glass was almost empty, he noticed, as was his own.
"What kind of career are you aiming for after NEWT'S?" She finished off her glass and looked at him pointedly. He finished off his own then poured three more fingers into each glass.
"I never really thought about it. My lifelong goal of living off the Malfoy fortune seems to have fallen through, so I suppose I should come up with something, right?"
She laughed. The sound seemed to echo around the room. She sat back in the chair and waited for him to answer.
Truth was, he hadn't been joking. He had never even considered working for a living before. Now, the thought was daunting. There were so many choices. How do you make one, and how do you know it's the right one?
"I suppose I could be an auror," he said with a laugh. "Do you think they would accept my application?"
She considered him for a moment. Then her mouth quirked up in a smirk that would have given him a run for his money.
That look, he decided, was his favorite. It was happy and mischievous and relaxed and just so very real. His heart beat just a little harder in his chest just from seeing it.
"I don't know," she quipped. "But I'd love to see the look on Ron's face when he saw you in the same training class. I might consider signing on myself just to see it."
"You might consider it?" He smirked right back at her. "Isn't it your goal to be an auror with Potter and Weasley?"
Her face fell and her whole demeanor changed. She picked up her glass and took a long drink, draining half of it in one go.
"I don't want to be an auror. I don't want to work for the Ministry at all." She looked relieved to have said it. Maybe this had been the first time she had admitted it to anyone. Everyone assumed she would continue her life fighting dark wizards, but that wasn't what she wanted at all.
Suddenly he understood. If she moved in with Potter, if she dated him, she would be pressured to follow him to the aurors. Here she had no pressure. She could set her own path, whatever she wanted.
"I can't say that I blame you. So what is it that The Hermione Granger wants to do for the rest of her life?" She truly could have her pick. Any profession would be lucky to have her.
"Would you believe me if I told you I have no idea?" She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.
"That makes two of us, then." He shrugged his shoulders and finished off his glass as she did the same. "We're still young, though, right? Plenty of time to figure it out yet."
Her eyes were starting to droop and he knew that their evening had come to an end. She swayed a little when she stood up.
"Okay there?" He put his hand on her arm to steady her.
"Yeah," she said with a small laugh. "Maybe."
He laughed and shook his head to himself. Then he placed his hand on the small of her back.
"Come on, Golden Girl."
"Please don't call me that," she said with a groan.
"Would you prefer Princess?" He teased as he leaned close and muttered in her ear. A shiver ran down her spine and he felt the vibration of it under his fingertips. She glanced up at him, her eyes meeting his momentarily.
"That's better than Golden Girl," she gave him the same smirk from before, teasing him as much as he had teased her.
He shook his head at her again and guided her out of the study. When they got to the stairs, she tripped over the first step and almost fell. He caught her by the waist and held her up.
"Oops," she said with a giggle.
"You are drunk, Granger." He laughed.
"I think you are right, Malfoy." She giggled again. She tripped two more times on the next two stairs. By then they were both laughing.
"This is going to take forever, Princess," Draco told her. "Hold on."
He swept her legs out from under her and lifted her into his arms bridal style. She let out a squeal and a loud laugh as she wrapped her arm around his neck.
Their eyes met.
He had to force himself to look away and walk up the stairs. She laid her head against his chest. One hand rested on his shoulder. The other was behind his neck. As he walked around to her room, she started combing her hand through the hair at the back of his head. It sent a cold chill down his spine and he took a shaky breath as he entered her room.
He glanced down to see that she was looking up at him. Their eyes locked again. She licked her lips.
He took a deep breath and set her down. He made sure she was steady on her feet, then he took a step back.
"Good night, Granger," he told her as he backed away.
"Good night, Malfoy." She bit her bottom lip.
He hesitated by the door for a brief moment, then stepped out to the walkway and closed the door behind him. He stared at the closed door for a long moment before taking a shaky breath and going to his own room.
His last thought before drifting off to sleep was to imagine what it would have felt like to kiss her.