If she thought he was going to start to open up to her just like that, she was wrong.
At least he doesn't lock himself in the dorm.
The next morning, he runs so fast and so angry she has to make extra effort to keep up. Then he follows their routine and barely talks to her.
But she waits.
Only him staying with her, not isolating himself means he listened to what she said, at least to some degree.
So she waits.
It takes two days.
And then his façade cracks.
He cracks.
She's reading a book in Slytherin common room. He's sitting on the sofa staring at the fire, and then he finally talks.
"Stopping me from jumping, it only postponed the inevitable." He says silently, still staring at the flames.
She just waits for him to continue.
"The rule, the first, most important rule, the one we should never break. About family... It's going to get me killed."
Slowly,
because she doesn't have words,
she gets up and goes to sit next to him.
In the firelight, she can't see any trace of her schoolyard bully, but a lonely, broken boy.
She wants to comfort him, but at the same time, she's scared to break the spell. Afraid that if she speaks up, he'll shut his mouth and turn inside himself again.
Minutes go by and the longer she waits, the harder she feels a cold hand squeezing around her heart.
Because the more she thinks of it, the more certain she is: Harry was right all along.
After what feels like hours, but might have been just a few minutes, she lifts her hand and puts it on his wrist. To a spot, where she's almost certain, he hides a secret that's slowly killing him inside.
He flinches but doesn't pull away.
"What is it you're supposed to do?" She whispers.
He finally turns to look at her.
And his eyes look like Harry's do when he's sure this is the day he dies.
"Repair the cabinet?" She's still gripping his arm.
He nods slowly, "That too."
"And?" She shouldn't sound so desperate. When she hears how small her voice comes out, she wants to kick herself.
He looks down,
hanging his head.
And because she fears he's done talking, she lets go of his arm, puts her palms on both sides of his face and forces him look at her.
This is the time she's brave! No matter how the answer scares her.
So she collects herself, "Tell me!"
The words come out as a mumble, but he might as well have shouted them to her face. Because they're so much worse than she could ever think: "Kill Dumbledore."
The world freezes.
Like the welcoming green warmness turns into ice around them.
She was right: this is no secret she can keep if they're ever going to get back to the others.
But she promised him! that's the reason he's even telling her this.
She drops her hands from his face and does the only thing she can think of doing: puts her arms around him and pulls him to her.
He trembles against her, and she's not sure if he feels the ice too, or if he's really crying.
No words.
Nothing she can say to comfort him.
Nothing…
But she told him, like his own rule states: Family stands united.
And he's her only family here.
So, she holds him.
Long,
Long they sit,
her hands around him.
And him leaning to her shoulder,
saying nothing.
Weeks,
months ago,
before all this she might have,
probably would have,
thought that he has taken the mark for selfish reasons.
For power and influence...
Now, knowing all she knows she doesn't believe he really had any say to it.
When he pulls away, she looks at him seriously.
"There's one thing we need to make clear." She tells him.
If they are going to be on the same side,
if she's really going to help him,
she needs to make something clear.
She takes his hand and bares his arm.
The mark stares at her, dark, ugly and almost accusing.
Like it's screaming: Mudblood!
He tries to cover it, but she won't let him.
"Is this here, because you believe what it stands for? If you kill Dumbledore, is it because you want Voldemort to win?"
"No!" He tells her before she gets to finish the sentence, "You don't know what it's like! This," He maneuvers to the tattoo, "This is a punishment, for my father's mistakes. All of this! He doesn't expect me to succeed. He's going to watch me fail and then he's going to kill me… and her…" The last words disappear as his voice cracks.
She asks, just to be sure: "Who?"
"Mother"
The pain in his eyes is unlike she's ever seen.
It makes her feel she knows nothing of hardship.
Nothing of making decisions when the options are: bad or worse.
But there's one more thing she needs to ask, "What about muggle-borns? about me? am I still lower? undeserving my magic?"
"I've studied with you for six years. I know you deserve all the magic you have! About blood… I have no idea what to believe. I never had to question it before."
At least he's honest.
That's all she can ask of him at the moment. So she takes his sleeve and pulls it back down to cover the mark.
Then she puts her palm on his cheek, "Draco, not all is lost. We'll figure something out."
He shakes his head slightly, "There's no way. I've…"
"There has to be! And I don't care if you think you've thought of everything. It was before I was on your side. And I'm not used to giving up!"
When his eyes meet hers, she knows that she lied to him for a second time: no matter what happens here after this, if they get back, it'll never be the same again! It'll never be like this never happened.
.
.
.
That night, she sleeps in the Slytherin dorm, in a bed that might have belonged to Pansy Parkinson,
or Millicent Bulstrode and her cat,
or any other Slytherin girls.
It's a foreign bed, and she doesn't much like it.
But she couldn't leave him alone.
Even if he seemed to pull himself back together.
She still thought it's better she stays closer.
Not too close, but only a few doors away.
But she can't sleep.
The look in his eyes haunts her.
And so do her own prejudices from before.
They used to blame him. To think he's foul and loathsome.
And what reason they had to think otherwise? He was a rude bully!
But he's also just a boy.
A boy in an impossible situation,
and no one to help him out of it.
She has no idea how she can help? how should they proceed?
For the next days, they act like the whole opening up part never happened.
Although she sees the change in him.
Like the mask he works so hard to keep up has slipped a little.
In their morning run, he makes her race him. They speed along the corridors until they're both breathless. And when he's the first to reach the bottom of the last stairs he turns to her lifting his hands up cheering.
"I win!"
She's out of breath and sweaty, but can't help the smile his actions get out of her.
"I just didn't want to watch you sulking all day if you lost!" She tells him, laugh in her voice.
He turns to her, eyes sparkling, looking nothing like the Draco Malfoy she thought she knew.
Then he laughs out loud taking a hold of her shoulder.
Somehow his touch sends tingles down from the point where his hand rests to her whole body.
She freezes.
His eyes meet hers and laughter dies on his lips.
It might be seconds or minutes or just a brief flash, but it feels like a long time.
They stand there, looking at each other, panting slightly, his laughter still echoing in the walls around.
It's like someone pushed pause. And now there are only his eyes, looking at her…
She feels like she can't quite catch her breath, and a flock of butterflies erupts in her stomach.
This is Draco Malfoy, she tries to think. But the thought does not register in her brain in a way it should.
He's the one to break the spell, "I'm starving, come on!"
And as he turns to the Great Hall, she bursts out laughing. She knows only one person who can break a moment with such a comment, and it's definitely not Draco Malfoy.
"Do you have any idea how much you sounded like Ron, just there?" She laughs unable to contain herself.
He flips back to her, "Fuck!"
She laughs harder.
"I blame you!" He shrugs and then goes to the hall.
"Who are you and what did you do to Draco Malfoy?" She yells after him, "He would have hexed me already!"
Then she follows him.
The light mood stays for the rest of the day.
She tries not to catch his eyes anymore though.
She's not ready to deal with the feelings they stirred in her in the morning.
.
.
.
"Come on, Granger! Live a little!" He tells her teasingly as she looks at him with hands on her hips, trying not to smile.
The transformation he has gone through these few weeks is unbelievable.
They still haven't talked about his mark or task since the night she found out.
But it seems her knowing his secrets and not despising him for it, has made him loosen up around her.
Or maybe it's the time they've spent together. You can't really be around someone almost 24/7 and not get used to them.
And this lighter, more relaxed Draco Malfoy is quite good company, to be honest.
Now he wants to go swimming in perfects bathroom.
"You've been there before! What do you need me for?" She tells him rolling her eyes.
Somehow being half naked around him makes her feel slightly uncomfortable.
"I want to see what water does to that disaster of a hair you've got!"
She rolls her eyes, "Of course, you do."
But that's where she finds herself anyway: in her bikini entering the bathroom.
Draco is already there, letting out pink bubbles from one of the tabs.
Don't look! She tries to tell herself. And for the love of God, don't stare!
She tries to look anywhere but his bare chest. Acts like she's never seen anything so exciting as the empty frame of a painting on the wall.
Hopes he lets out bubbles that will cover them in the water.
"Granger, Catch!"
He throws a ball at her and she needs to turn around to prevent it from hitting her head… and to do that, she needs to look at him.
Like she anticipated he is fit.
He did play quidditch and he does run with her every morning, after all.
But god, God his body is flawless!
Lean and strong and white as a marble statue.
The ball hits her head anyway.
She's so much in trouble!
But she tries hard not to think of it. and it's easier underwater, at least she doesn't have to look at his muscles moving.
Tossing the ball back and forth makes her loosen up.
And that's something she shouldn't be doing.
Because before long she finds herself being splashed soaking wet by him.
"I wanted to see the hair!" He laughs.
"You bastard!" She yells trying to get her wet hair off her face.
She lunges forward and attacks him with the splash of her own.
But after a while of splashing and laughing so hard she thinks she might drown, it happens.
She finds herself caged between the pool wall and his arms.
Her eyes catch him and he has gone serious, paralyzing her with his gaze.
He's so close.
His naked chest so close to her she can almost feel it against her body.
She thinks she has never seen anyone look quite so purely beautiful.
His eyes are dark, pupils dilated, lips slightly parted as he looks down at her.
Her gaze flicks down from his eyes and she can see his Adam's apple pop as he swallows hard.
It's like the air and the water around them has electrified, and now sizzling with energy.
Like his body is radiating it, pulling her to him like a magnet.
She doesn't remember how to breathe!
Never in her life has she been in a situation as charged as this.
So, she does the only thing she can think of doing before something happens, something they'll probably both regret.
She escapes.
Ducks under his arm and up from the pool.
"I think I'm done swimming." She tells him wrapping the towel around her and running out the door.
"Hermione!"
She hears him yell after her as the door swings shut.
But she's already going, running with bare feet, leaving a wet trail behind her.
She needs to get away! Needs to put as much distance between them as she can!
Halfway up the corridors, she realizes her breath is heavy and shallow, and she has to slow down.
Just as she reaches the empty frame where the fat lady usually sits, he catches up with her.
Grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him.
He has run, she can see it.
Towel tossed across his shoulder, he now looks at her.
Pale cheeks slightly pink from rushing after her.
"Hermione…" He says again. And it feels like him, speaking her name, stirs something from inside of her.
It's just the solitude, she tries to think, avoiding his eyes.
It's just the situation.
So, she shakes her head and whispers a silent, "Don't" That sounds like she's pleading him.
But his body...
His hard, perfect body collides her,
and then his lips are on hers.
He's kissing her.
And her brain can't find a reason to fight it.
Her body responds to him,
immediately and surely.
He groans against her mouth and backs her up against the wall.
If she ever thought what it would be like to kiss Draco Malfoy, she never anticipated this.
He's ice and fire,
hot and cold,
soft and demanding.
She feels overwhelmed.
She has kissed only a handful of boys before but none of them,
none!
Compare to what it's like to kiss him.
She's breathless and mindless and helplessly in his mercy.
And it doesn't bother her one bit.
He kisses her neck and his hands slide on her bare sides setting her on fire on their way.
He bites a spot just under her jawline and she moans. A soft whimpering sound leaving her lips.
Some other time it might embarrass her to sound so helplessly needy, but she doesn't care now. So she lifts her own hands to run them down his abdominal. To feel him under her fingertips.
Then she tangles the other hand in his hair and yanks him forward to be closer.
The world blurs around them.
But it ends too soon.
He takes a step back and studies her for a while.
She tries to draw breath.
To comprehend what is happening.
He smirks.
Actually smirks!
His trademark smirk, she thinks she hasn't seen in a long time.
"Goodnight Granger." He tells her and casually walks away leaving her dumbfounded standing against the wall, the traces of his lips still burning her skin.
"Good night?!" She yells after him when she finally finds her voice, even though he's probably out of the hearing range already.
"Good night!? After that? Really?!"
But she's definitely not going to run after him!
So she picks up the towel she doesn't remember dropping and steps inside of the common room fuming, frustrated and confused!