When she gets to the stairs the plan is clear in her head: She won't stop, just climb up, straight to the railing and down to oblivion.
And then she doesn't have to listen to this fucking silence anymore.
But as soon as she enters the tower, she forgets she ever made any plans.
Instead, she bursts into tears again.
And before she really understands what's happening, she has fallen to the floor, sobs wracking through her body and his arms are around her.
"What's the matter, what happened?" He tries to ask but she can't get words out.
She just clings to him, holds onto the front of his shirt like he might slip away if she lets go, trying to draw breath.
"Are you hurt?" He tries to get her to let go so that he can look at her.
But she doesn't let him.
After five minutes or so, she's finally calm enough to get out words.
"I woke up, and you weren't there," She gulps, "I thought you were gone, I… I decided I might as well jump." The last words fade.
"No!" He grips her shoulders almost painfully, "You can't give up! No matter what happens to me!"
She just shakes her head, tears falling, "The silence drives me crazy."
He pulls her close again, "Don't worry, if it's up to me I'm not going anywhere."
When she has calmed down and they're up from the floor she finally manages to think and talk coherently, "Why are you here? You can't just leave like that!" Actually, him, leaving her alone like that, makes her a little angry now.
"Couldn't sleep," he answers but she can hear it's not just that, so she waits.
"The mark, it aches sometimes." He mutters finally.
Of course! When he says it, she feels stupid. No matter how they pretend the past doesn't matter here.
His past,
present,
future,
never leaves him alone.
There's a mark in his hand that reminds him, even when he tries to act like he has forgotten about it almost completely.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd notice."
She looks at him with surprise and nods briefly.
"Come on." He pulls her back against him and just holds her, resting his chin to her hair.
And she puts her own arms around him.
Breathes him in.
Maybe she should be angrier that he didn't think of her when he left, but she can't find it in her.
For a moment she thought she'd lost him and the thought alone was so unbearable she was ready to jump off the tower.
She lifts her eyes to look at him.
The chilly wind of winter shivers her, but his proximity keeps her warm enough.
Maybe not only here right now, but in this place in general.
She rises to her toes to kiss him,
softly,
almost air light,
and he responds with the same softness.
Almost like lovers.
And she makes up her mind: a boy, a man, who kisses her like this, deserves everything she has to give.
So there, under the stars, in the chill air of December, she lets go.
Releases the strings holding her back.
Lets her movement speak the words she's scared to say out loud.
And he understands,
doesn't make her say it,
lets her give him permission and then takes the lead.
Like in everything he does, his movements are certain, and that makes her certain.
She never imagined it to happen like this,
on the hard rock floor of the astronomy tower,
her cheeks still tearstained,
her hair a horrible mess after running around the castle in panic,
but now she wouldn't want it any other way.
It's him and her,
and they're here together,
and that's all that matters.
So, she lets him strip her from her nightgown,
lets him look at her,
lets him kiss her all over...
The only coldness she feels are the shivers their movements send through her.
And when it finally happens.
When they go over the line and he enters her,
his eyes are all she sees.
His deep pools of molten silver, sparkling with desire,
and something tender she has no time to think about.
No matter if she's going to live the rest of her life here, in their silent solitude or if she gets back to the real world.
This is a moment she's never going to let go.
A moment she holds to her heart as long as she lives…
Because, this…
This is the moment when all the walls Draco Malfoy held up anymore crumble down.
This is the moment Draco Malfoy belongs solely,
only and exclusively,
to her.
Not to his family,
not to Slytherin,
not to Voldemort.
To her!
.
.
.
It's not only his walls that crumble that night,
but hers too.
And that makes her discover things about herself, she never knew she had in her.
They're two teenagers studying each other in a world where there is no one else but them.
And once the line is crossed, there's no going back.
They throw themselves in an affair that most people have only dirty dreams about.
Why study books, when there's a whole new, a much more interesting thing to study: each other?
She doesn't want to ask him where he learned all he knows.
Who taught him to read her signals like she was an open book.
Who specified all the places women want to be touched, and how to make a girl feel wanted, desired,
exceptional?
And not once does he make her feel like she's lacking.
Like her inexperience counted.
As he promised before, he takes her in the library pushing her between the shelves, making her scream in a way that, if heard, would ban them from the library for life.
With no one watching they become limitless.
Never in her life has she considered herself wild.
Even when they were breaking all the school rules possible, she was well aware of what those rules were.
But now, not having to care about anything, she's just that,
wild.
And completely under his spell.
Like he's under hers.
It's almost like they have a mission to do it in every room of Hogwarts,
and do it differently each time.
The intimacy makes their relationship an affair, no matter what they try to tell themselves.
The long lingering kisses and slow caresses make it more than a casual fuck.
More than friends with benefits.
They click in so many levels, in so many ways, and somehow it doesn't bother her.
Maybe it's the ignorance doing that.
Maybe it's something else.
.
.
.
"I wish we could go outside."
They're in the Slytherin common room, her head resting on his lap and him, spinning her hair absently around his fingers, staring at the fire.
They stay in Slytherin mostly nowadays.
She doesn't mind. Doesn't ask if they could go to Gryffindor.
She like's it here.
Here, the silence isn't eerie. Almost like this place is supposed to be silent. And the fish swimming by the windows, make her feel less like the only living things alive.
She also likes how at home he's here. In Gryffindor, he's always a visitor, an intruder, something she doesn't feel here. So they stay here and it's fine.
"Me too." He mutters, "I miss flying."
"I miss the feel of wind, the smell of grass…"
"Well it's winter, so you couldn't smell grass even if you tried."
She snorts.
They're silent for a while, lost in the memories of the great outdoors.
Then suddenly she sits up and looks at him, face glowing, "I got an idea!"
"No! I'm not going to read a book about a forest and imagine myself there!"
She slaps his arm playfully, "Don't be stupid. Come on!"
She leads him to the door of the Room of Requirement.
"Do you think it works like that?" He asks suspiciously, having picked up her intention.
She shrugs, "Worth a try!"
It does work like that! The room gives them a yard.
A long green field of grass, a clear stream flowing a little further.
Bright summer day with birds singing.
It's not as good as the real thing, but it'll do.
He whoops and she turns around to see him mounting a broom and then swishing around the field with it.
Of course, it's only a room, so it has limitations, he can't go very high, but it seems only flying is enough.
She laughs at his excitement.
Then she lies down in the grass and breathes in the smell of it. Closing her eyes, it could actually pass as a real thing.
Magic is wonderful!
After a while, he lands next to her.
She keeps her eyes closed.
"Come fly with me." He whispers in her ear.
She opens her eyes and looks at him, his face mere inches from her, smiling.
Sometimes, in moments like this, she doubts briefly if this is the real Draco Malfoy after all.
If this weird dream produced her a fantasy version of him?
What if she's to get back to the evil git he used to be and realize this other version of him never existed at all?
It's a silly thought, she knows and hopes to god it's not true!
"I hate flying." She tells him slowly.
"You've never flown with me!" He says smugly.
And the smirk on his face tells her that oh yes, this is him alright, the real him.
"I've hated it with everyone else, so I'll leave it to you."
He kisses her.
Sondeeply she forgets what they were talking about.
Presses his body against her and glides his hand to grab her ass.
She wraps her legs around him, guiding him to lie on top of her and lifts her hips against him.
He seems to have forgotten about the flying, just like that, as his other hand glides up under her shirt.
But then suddenly he stops, freezes his movement.
She looks at him confused, frustrated by the halt.
He leans over, lowering his head to her neck. Then he shoves her dress aside and pushes two fingers inside her already wet folds.
She whimpers.
"Please," He whispers.
And she's not sure what he's begging for.
His fingers glide on her and her mind is getting foggy.
She thinks she should be the one begging.
But then he's gone.
His hands leave her.
The weight of him lifts,
leaving her all needy and unsatisfied.
She sits up, ready to give him a piece of her mind about starting something he has no intention to finish.
"I'll finish it if you catch me!" He throws a broom to her.
And has already mounted his.
She blinks her eyes.
Really?! He's using sex to blackmail her into flying!?
Who does that!?
"You bastard!" She yells after him, standing up, "You tricked me!"
He flies back, doing little loops around her, "I said please!"
"Because that makes all the difference!" She mutters getting on the broom, "I suck at this you know!"
"Come on, Granger. Live a little! Give it a try and I'll show you what I can suck." He winks suggestively.
"You're unbelievable!" She tests the broom under her fingers, "If I fall and snap my neck, I'll kill you!"
She kicks herself from the ground, "And I've told you! My name is Hermione!"
But to be honest she kind of likes it when he calls her Granger.
Feels like this Granger girl is much bolder and freer than Hermione ever was.
Maybe Granger can fly too.
"Catch me if you can!" He yells speeding towards the stream.
"Right," She mutters trying to keep her broom as close to the ground as it's possible without her toes touching the grass.
"That is going to take at least a hundred years!" He's back again.
"Well, you wanted me to do this! Now watch! I'm flying, hooray!" She doesn't lift her eyes from the handle.
"That's more like hoovering. Here, let me show you."
And he shows her. Lowers himself to the same level as she and shows her how to balance herself. Explains how to stay in balance, how to steer, to slow down and speed up.
She knows all of those things, in theory, but no one ever bothered to really show her how to keep control of her broom.
At the end of an hour, she's flying.
Not fast,
not gracefully,
but more and better she ever did.
And she's not that afraid either!
"See, not that bad!" He beams at her as she lands, "We'll continue tomorrow."
And then he has thrown his broom aside and attacked her lips with such a force they tumble over to the grass.
He's back over her. His fingers back in between her thighs and his lips back on hers. But he never makes promises he's not intended to keep. Soon it's his face in between her thighs and she's burying her fingers in his hair as he makes her fly on a completely different level.
And after she thinks, she doesn't actually much mind flying again tomorrow.