CHAPTER 6
May 21st 2001
Hermione Granger tossed and turned in her hotel bed. She had decided not to return to Malfoy's room after running a hot bath and cleaning herself of any blood stains. A moment alone was needed for the pair of them.
She flipped her pillow over in an attempt to make herself more comfortable, but the memory of Malfoy pushing her aside to block her from being hit with the cruciatus curse consumed her.
When agreeing to come on this trip, Hermione was expecting hotheaded arguments and playful banter, not hired hitmen and flustered finger sucking. She thought of Ron. Was he adjusting to the new training routine? Had he given any thought to what date would work well for their wedding? Was he missing her?
Flipping onto her back and looking up at the ceiling, Hermione twisted her engagement ring on her finger. She was going to have to start really planning this wedding soon. Given any normal event, she would have had three books filled with ideas of themes, music, and even flower arrangements. But she didn't feel a need to rush this time. Her work with the werewolf case was still a main priority. A solution crossed the Hermione's mind. Once the werewolf case was fought for and resolved, then she could begin wedding preparation. Yes, that was reasonable.
Closing her eyes once more, Hermione began counting snitches, praying this would bore her to sleep.
Draco Malfoy tossed and turned in his hotel bed. Granger had decided not to return to his room after he suggested she clean herself up. A moment alone was needed for the pair of them. He flipped his pillow over in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, but the memory of holding Granger's bleeding head in his lap consumed him.
When inviting her on this trip, Draco was expecting headstrong discussions and rolling of eyes, not near death experiences and opening up about his personal life. He thought of his mother. Was she aware that her husband was sending men out to kill her son? Did she approve of the death threats against Granger? Was she lonely in that lifeless manor?
Flipping onto his back and looking up at the ceiling, Draco slid his hand down the side of his hair. He was going to have to stop talking to Granger soon. He didn't want her life in his hands, nor to be murdered by Weasley if she were to be killed thanks to his refusal to return home. But if he wasn't close to her, how was he going to protect her?
An epiphany crossed Draco's mind. That Granger has survived just fine on her own in the wizarding world. Merlin, at the prime age of 11 she was fighting against Voldemort. Who was he to think that, just because he can throw a few punches and he felt guilty, she needed his security? Yes, he did not need to keep her so close.
Closing his eyes once more, Draco began to count elves, praying this would bore him to sleep.
Hermione Granger stood in the hotel lobby, waiting for her co-worker to head to their final day at the Romanian Ministry. She had packed her bag the night before, and held it in hand after checking out. Looking up at the grand staircase ahead of her, she watched Malfoy descend from the second floor. He had decided to go for a grey suit today, slightly out of character for the him to do so. Taking a deep breath in, she smiled at him with closed lips.
"Hi." She greeted.
"Hello." He returned.
"Shall we?" She gestured toward the fireplace. He nodded in response.
The two stepped out of the floo network one after the other, walking in complete silence over to their meeting place by the statue water fountain. Malfoy cleared his throat and turned to her,
"5 o'clock?" He asked bluntly,
"Yes." She replied, mirroring his tone.
The two spun on their heels and walked in different directions. Hermione began to miss the insult filled wordplay they shared. She wondered how long this awkward tension between the two would last.
Hermione felt the business side of the trip had been incredibly successful, gathering a plethora of testimonies and evidence she could bring home that would push her case to the next level for caring for the werewolves within Britain. She hoped her old friend and teacher, Remus Lupin, would have been proud.
Finalising all she needed, Hermione had finished a few hours earlier than she planned. Taking the opportunity at hand, she decided to head to the cafeteria for a bite to eat. As she walked down the white marbled halls, she noticed amongst the crowd of employees, that there was someone following her.
After many years of friendship and battles fought with Harry Potter, she knew when things were about to turn bad, and when to listen to her gut. Thinking on the spot, Hermione fastened her pace and took a quick turn into an emptied hall, pressing her back against the wall. The person following her, entered into the strip not long after.
Blind siding them, she cast a 'Petrificus Totalus' to their back, watching their body freeze mid step and thump to the ground. Slowly walking over their body, Hermione squinted her eyes, not recognising the man frozen before her. Using her wand, she wrapped ropes around the mystery man before casting a counterspell to unfreeze him. He grunted and squirmed in the trappings.
"What do you want?" She asked sternly.
"Fucking mudblood bitch!" The stranger spat.
"I'll ask you one more time... What do you want?"
Hermioned twisted her wand to tighten the ropes around his body, restricting his movements.
"I was sent to give you a message." He groaned in pain.
"From whom?"
"Lucius Malfoy."
"Of course."
She bent down to meet his reddened face.
"What did you have to tell me?"
"To leave his son alone, or else."
"Or else, huh? Well that is positively mortifying." She said sarcastically.
Not caring for shallow, unloving, selfish people such as Malfoy senior and the games they play, Hermione did not feel possessed to send a message back. Taking the higher road, she took the trapped wizard's own wand and placed it at his temple.
"Obliviate." She cast, removing all memories of not just their encounter, but of all his interactions with Lucius. It was better for the man to live a life, free from the hand of evil men.
As the former assassin lay on the ground staring blankly up at her, she removed his restraints and walked away. Throwing his wand on the ground with attitude.
Hermione was happy to be headed home today.
Draco Malfoy shook the hand of the Minister for Romanian Magic, thanking him for the hospitality throughout his and Granger's stay in Romania.
"Until ve meet again, Mazter Malfoy." The minister farewelled.
"Indeed." Draco replied, stepping out of the office and heading to meet Granger. He was glad to be going home today, this three day trip had felt like a lifetime.
Upon approaching Granger at the fountain, he formed a thin line with his lips, his best attempt at a smile.
"Are we ready to go?" She asked, avoiding eye contact.
"Yes." He replied, taking the leading step towards their appointed portkey departure platform.
Awkward silence defined their trip back. Neither witch nor wizard spoke to one another as they landed back in Britain. As they exited the Travel Department at home, Granger stopped in the doorway, making Draco bump into her back. Looking ahead into the foyer, he saw Weasel-bee waiting for her, a bouquet of white roses in hand.
"Ron!" Granger exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to surprise ya," the red-headed prat answered, "Welcome home, babe!"
The pet name made Draco want to vomit, it was pathetic. How Granger stood to be around the toad, he would never understand.
Dropping her bag on the floor, Granger ran towards her fiance, jumping into his open embrace and planting a kiss on his lips. Draco winced, thinking back to the night just before when he looked at her in the darkened room, feeling a sudden urge to pull her close to him. Oh, how stupid he had been. He must have been thinking with his dick, why would he want to kiss that know-it-all?
A bright flash blinded Draco's sight of the sickening lovers. Journalists began to swarm their most favoured couple upon their reunion. Photographers yelled at the two, insisting they kiss again for the people of England. Feeling repulsed by the situation he had fallen in, Draco stepped out of the doorway, away from the cameras and down the hall to return home.
In a moment of weakness, half way through his exit Draco looked back at the cluster of people. Among them, he saw Granger holding her partner's hand waving at the crowd in front of her, eyes locked on him. From a distance, they looked into each other.
Putting his head down to the ground, turning away, Draco continued his journey home.
Hermione Granger entered her London apartment, fiance hand in hand. Appreciative of the comfort her small studio brought her, she was relieved to be home after an eventful few days. Dropping her bag into the bedroom, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, squeezing her tight.
The memory of Malfoy sucking the ring off her finger caressed her mind. Remembering the burning sensation that settled in her stomach that night, guilt suddenly hit her like a tidal wave.
"It's good to have you home." Ron whispered against her ear.
Maybe it was the guilt, or maybe it was because she missed him, but something pushed her to turn in his arms and kiss him hard, and repeatedly down his neck.
"Woah," Ron gasped, "What's gotten into you?"
"I need you. Now." She puffed in between sucking his skin.
Not needing any more reason, Ron picked her up by the back of her legs and dropped her onto the bed. He began kissing her neck as soon as she hit the mattress, and she stretched her fingers through the hair on the back on his head. While her fiance drew down on her skin, Hermione couldn't get the image of Malfoy's darkened silhouette in the hotel room they were attacked in. His eyes were on her lips. Was he going to kiss her? More importantly, would she have let him?
Shaking her head, Hermione realised she was being ridiculous. There is no way that the pureblooded was attracted to her, she was practically peacock shit under his boot. Lifting Ron's head back up to meet hers, Hermione stripped him off his shirt. She was going to make passionate love to her soon to be husband.
Not much time later, Ron rolled off the top of her, laid beside her on the bed and kissed her shoulder. He was out of breath and damp from sweating, Hermione not so much.
"Wow!" He breathed out, "That was amazing. I could get used to this."
Hermione turned on her side to face him, scanning all the freckles that scattered across his cheeks. His hair was matted from all the sweat on his forehead, and lips puffed from brushing against hers. She traced her finger down the bridge of his nose, all the way down to his chin.
"I love you, you know that, right?" She whispered.
Ron turned his head to meet hers, a smile spread along his face.
"I love you too." He replied.
The lovers stayed in that moment for a few minutes. Breathing each other in after being away for a short period of time. Hermione couldn't help but think of what Malfoy was doing, had he gone home? Did he meet with his father to put an end to all the madness? Was he also in bed with a lover? The man was overtaking her brain, and she hated it.
She was in bed after making love to the man she loved, and yet the safety of Malfoy was concerning her. If he wasn't careful, he was going to end up dead. How bad was the argument between him and his father? What did he say that made him provoke the elder to want to kill him?
Ron kissed her on the forehead as he stood up off the bed.
"You go shower." He told her, pulling his boxers on, "I'll go and get us food."
"Thank you, Ronald." She said with gratitude, watching the long legged red-head walk out of the room with a skip in his step.
Draco Malfoy did not go home like he had originally planned.
He brushed off the dust from his robes, stepping out of the fireplace belonging to that of Pansy Parkinson. The pointy nosed woman stood in her living room dressed in a silk green robe, startled by his entrance.
"God Draco!" She shrieked, clutching her chest, "I thought you were in Romania!"
"I was, I just got back." He replied dropping his bag on the floor.
"Have you even gone home yet? Or did you come straight here?"
Draco scratched the back of his head, avoiding answering the question. Pansy crossed her arms and leant on one leg, annoyed at his surprise visit.
"What if Theo was here? Did you think about that?" She asked.
"No," he answered selfishly, "I just wanted to see you."
"You wanted to see me, or you wanted a distraction?"
"The latter."
Pansy scoffed, and then proceeded to pull at the knot of her dressing gown. Falling open, it revealed her to be wearing black laced lingerie. Draco was used to this attire on her, but he was still a little thrown that even in her own home she still chose to wear it.
Putting his curiosity aside, the blond stalked towards her. He pulled the gown off her completely, and rapidly kissed her collar bone, fingers twiddling with the hook of her bra. Dropping the top on the floor, he pushed her up against the wall aggressively. Draco growled when she tugged his suit off and grinded against his pelvis. He froze when she ran her hand down his back, fingertips gliding along the scar.
The wizard jumped back from the witch, breathless.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to touch you there." Pansy apologised.
Draco felt his chest getting tighter and tighter.
"I have to leave." He muttered.
"Don't, don't do this Draco. Don't shut down." She pleaded, rubbing her palms along his shoulders.
Memories of the night that brought Draco that scar flooded his mind. His skin felt like it was on fire. He pulled her hands off of him, scooped his clothes off the floor and hustled to the fireplace. As the floo's green flames wrapped around him, he watched the half naked Pansy look at him with pity filled eyes. He despised when people pitied him.
Landing on the foot of his own fireplace, Draco hunched over at an attempt to resist the urge to claw at his own skin. Stumbling into the living room, he screamed, picking up a side table and throwing it across the room.
"Fucking, bastard!"
Falling onto one of the armchairs, Draco put his head into his hands and pulled at his hair while bobbing his knee up and down. It took a few minutes but he managed to catch his breath.
Leaning up against the chair he felt the black leather cool down his flushed skin. The room was dark, the sun must have set while he was at Pansy's. Using his wand, Draco lit all the candles in the room, and warm yellow tones flickered against the walls. The colours calmed him.
Closing his eyes and throwing his head back, Draco cursed himself for being so vulnerable. This week was going to make him grey at the divine age of 21. He loathed the idea of heading to work tomorrow and having to see Granger again.