Hermione woke up alone in her bed. The first thing she noticed was the slightly cold without Draco's warmth alongside. The sheets were messy like someone struggled to get out of bed, but his scent was still there, in her pillows, in her sheets, and even in her room. She wondered if she was imagining things or exaggerate his smell. Their room was silence, too much silence. Maybe he already left. Maybe he was somewhere regretting sleeping in her bed.
She did not remember much of last night, besides practically making out with him in the middle of the corridor, risking anyone showing up – like Harry or Ron. And then, they silenced agreed to get back to their room. Draco gave her a glass of water and she was sure she vomited on his shoes – she hoped she had. She remembered him pulling her head into a messy bun, too much messy to be considered fashionable, while she vomited the rest of the beer and the late dinner into the toilet. After, she guided him to her room, still feeling light and hot. She remembered vaguely of putting her head outside the window to catch some fresh and cold air. Then, Draco said something along the lines: you have a wish of freezing to death. Next, they laid together in her bed, looking at each other. Draco looked a lot blurred but still looked handsome and more vulnerable than ever. Maybe it was the unkempt hair or the fact that he only had his white shirt at this point. She already saw him like that; loose tie, white shirt out of the place; desperate hair after finishing a report or failing at some step of the potion. But not like this. But she was drunk, anyways. He said something about her room and her fluffy pillows, but she was long gone.
She woke up at four a.m., confused and with a headache. He was still there, covered with one of her fuzzy blankets, while she was in her proper bed. He breathed slowly, peacefully even, much different from the times she had to catch him asleep on the couch. Hermione remembered being overwhelmed by all of it and returned to sleep, still staring at him.
"Morning." Draco said opening the door with one mug, steaming hot. "What's wrong with your face?" He asked bluntly.
"What? Nothing." Hermione said. "It's my morning face."
"Alright." He said sitting next to her. He was already in his robes. "Here. Coffee. I thought you would need it after last night."
"Thanks." She said grabbing the mug. "I never pictured you like this." She said trying hard not to smile. At this moment, any motion made her head only hurt more.
"Get over it, Granger. It's bloody coffee." He said. "And it's not poisoned." He spat back staring at her face. Hermione remembered her nasty words but still did not apologized.
"How bad was it? Last night." She said taking the first perfect slip of her coffee.
"Well, you vomited on me. Twice. Your luck is that I have two pairs of shoes." Draco said. "And a lot of rumbling about your cat, and about snow and Christmas. I did not picture you any different." Hermione wanted to punch him. "I'm just kidding." He said half-smiling.
"Where are you going dressed like that?" She was afraid to look herself at in the mirror. Her hair felt extremely crazy, like she had grown two heads.
"Not anyone it is hungover, Granger. I have things to do." He responded.
"For You-Know-Who?" She asked unafraid of the answer. Draco tensed immediately but got himself together just a few moments after. Probably he was not accustomed to someone knowing him and what he had to do and then confront him like that.
"Yes." He merely replied between his teeth that remind her of Snape's insolence and dread voice.
"I was not kidding that night." Hermione pulled herself up just slightly. "I was thinking of talking to Dumbledore this Friday night. Tomorrow. Today he has some particular lesson with Harry."
"Granger…" He started but one look at her was enough to stop his protest. Hermione surely looked terrifying, like a medusa.
"You will get yourself killed or worse." Hermione answered back, letting her temper rise. "I know you don't want that crazy manic in charge, any more than I do. For different reasons." Self-preservation, survival. "And I won't let you kill Dumbledore and screw everything up. We need him, he is the glue that puts us all together. Without him, we are just a bunch of kids playing with magic."
Hermione knew Draco was beyond annoyed and uncomfortable with this possibility. Him in the Order. Honestly, she could not comprehend what it meant for him. "I know this sounds crazy and I know we all don't get along that well, but if only we could put our hate and prejudice aside… then."
"Then what Granger?" Malfoy confronted her. "We save the fucking world. Surely you can't be that naïve."
At least I could save you. She thought but was unable to say it out loud. "What's the other option then?" She got up, still in her clothes from yesterday that smell like cheap alcohol and some smoke from Ginny's special drug. "You do what you're supposed to. Became a Death Eater. A fucking murderer Is that what you want? Killing people like me."
Draco eyed her intensely and opened his mouth to say something. He was torn apart, she could feel it and if she continued pushing him, he would break eventually. But she had to. "I need to go. Are you good?" He merely asked. Hermione nodded and he left without looking back. Seconds later the door closed, and she collapsed to her bed again.
The whole room smell like him, it was driving her crazy. She wanted to follow him and assure him that she would be with him; that she would defend him and then he will be saved from death or a horrible future. She wanted that more than anything, but she did not move. It was not that simple because this was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger. So, she slept until she forgot where she was, or the mess she was involved with.
It was late in the evening, Draco and Blaise were at the lake, watching the sun go down, each one immersed in their problems. Blaise shared with him a cigarette, after making a tone of muggle jokes. Blaise was as much a pureblood as Draco; they shared the same background, the same references, the same histories and myths, and the same prejudice. But, on the contrary to the Malfoys, Blaise did not have that father figure. Surely her mother was terrified and a powerful witch, but she was too vain, too crazy to follow the Dark lord. So, Blaise was always in the middle, not totally in, not out. Draco envies that, the choice mostly.
"May I said that you look like shit, mate." Blaise said. "More than usual."
Draco stared at him and said nothing, not even pretended to look offended by the commentary. He knew he looked like shit. "Pansy is still angry at you. I would be careful if I were you, maybe she is steaming some love potion. Or death potion. Either way."
"I don't really care." Draco half-smiled. He had avoided ever since that night, and Pansy refused to talk to him or even recognize his presence when they were all together. Malfoy knew he should apologize but even that seemed such a dreadful and stressful thing to do.
"About her?" Blaise asked, taking the cigarette from Draco's hands. "Weird things to say about your future to be wife." He smiled, amused at himself. Draco knew the only purpose of Blaise commentaries was to stir shit up. He always enjoyed the chaos.
"That's not going to happen. Ever." Draco said, hoping he dropped the topic.
"Shit, I forgot. You're not into that type of girl, at the moment." He said with a spark in his eyes. Draco wanted to punch him. "Am I wrong, Drake? I mean, sure you can sleep with Pansy but that's just it. Sex."
"What are you talking about?" Draco asked, turning to his friend. "What I do, or who I sleep with is none of business."
"Drake boy, I'm not worried about your dick, but your heart." He smiled. "And your head, honestly. Is she worth all the trouble?"
Draco freezes at that moment. How could he possibly know? "I don't know what's wrong with your head, but I think you should worry about yourself." Draco sneered at him.
"Granger." He said. Draco did not move, nor turn back to his friend. He tried to keep control of his emotions. The urge that he felt to do something stupid. Just because her name, said by him, sounded wrong. "Of all the people, I'm impressed. You impressed me Draco, and I am hard to please like Pansy always says." Blaise got up too. "I'm not going to tell anyone a thing, I'm just trying to understand how that will work out."
Draco turned back to his friend and grabbed the tie hanging on his neck. "One more word and I will not hesitate on hexing the crap out of you."
Blaise merely smiled. "For Salazar Sake. What's the matter with you?" Draco asked.
"Honestly, I am a bit offended that my best friend is threatening me, but that's okay. Just one more day on the Slytherin household, right?" Blaise grabbed Draco's wrist and pull him back. "Don't need to get all touchy with me Draco. I'm not your fucking father, you don't have to prove me anything."
Draco tried to recover his breath back. When did he become so reckless around other people? If he tried harder, he could still Snape's disapproving face during their sessions in summer. Day after day, trying to build his Occlumency shields. Trying to become numb to anything, to anyone. "How did you found out." He asked. There was no point in lying.
"You just have to pay attention and I'm a bored fuck." He said shuddering his shoulders. "It's all very quiet and still, no need to worry. I just saw you guys last night at the corridor." He half-smiled. "Quite hot, I have to admit." Draco approached him again and Blaise got away, smiling. "I'm kidding. I'm sorry if I interrupted those little sessions of yours, I have clumsy feet sometimes." Blaise said.
"Now what?" Draco answered, and he felt he asked that too many times in the past weeks. "And I supposed to believe you will not use this?"
"Why would why? You insulted me." Blaise said. "I know I was not apart of your little club with Theo when you two were kids but I'm still here. I'm your friend."
"I'm so fucked." Draco admitted, choosing to rely upon his friend, something he stops trying to do."I tried to end it, twice. But everything just got messier."
"If you tried to end it twice, I don't think you had your heart on it, Draco." Blaise said. "What about Potter and Wesley, they suspect of anything?"
Draco laughed. "I don't fucking care. Honestly, I could use the fight." Blaise passed him the cigarette again and Draco took it, half-smiling. "I don't know how to react to her."
"Maybe we're growing up." Blaise said, appearing immersed in the horizon. Draco laughed at the scenario. "I'm serious. Maybe there is a lot more than blood traitors and muddle-bloods. And hate. Besides, there's a war coming." Blaise turned at Draco. "I don't really want to die."
They stood in silence for a while, until the last end of the cigarette. "What they asked you to do?"
Draco merely looked at him and Blaise understood the secrecy of it all. "I can't tell you, Blaise. It's for the best, trust me."
Blaise nodded, understanding somehow the position Draco was." Does she want you to turn sides?"
"Yes." Draco said. "But I don't think I will. How could I?" Only now he noticed how lost he sounded, like a child. "I have to complete the mission, otherwise, the Dark Lord will kill me and my mother." He felt terrified just to admit it.
"Maybe the Old bat could help you." Blaise said.
Draco snorted. "Of course. Because he cares about me so much." He said sarcastically.
"He doesn't, but Granger does." Blaise said back. "That counts for something, don't you think?"
Draco did not know what to answer to that. The thought of Granger protecting him or defending him in front of her best friends and members of the Order, made him feel mostly victorious. The look on Potter's and Weasley's would be precious. A sweet win and revenge, in a way, after all these years. Because she chooses him, over those idiots, even if he was bad or stained in a way. Of course, her choice would also mean something else that he was not ready to think about.
"Think about it Draco. Maybe she is offering you a way out." They walked back to the castle, in silence. Draco still felt uncomfortable with the amount of information that Blaise knew about him and Granger. His secret. That he almost felt possessive about it. That he was not ready to confront in the light, in front of everyone. Even, to himself. Not properly like she deserves.
When Draco got into their room after dinner, Hermione was in the kitchen, baking something that smelled marvelous. She was wearing some black cotton pants, an overside grey sweatshirt that made her look even smaller. He would never tell her, but he enjoyed watching her like this, in muddle clothes, in her normal habitat, just doing normal things. He could watch her all day. He knew that sounded creepy as fuck, but she was captivating to him. It was obvious from her face the effects of the hangover; her eyes looked very small and she moved slowly between places like she was afraid to break some sort of balance that she found out.
"Hi." She said turning around and making a sound of pain. "Fuck, my head." She whimpered.
"What's going on?" Draco said approaching her.
"Well, I'm making us a small cake. Chocolate." Hermione said smiling. "I don't think it's worth baking a cake or anything else than chocolate."
"What's the occasion?" He asked suspiciously. He could swear she was bloody mad with him last night and now she was cooking him a cake? "I thought you wanted my head in a spike."
"Well, tonight we have cake and forget all about it." Hermione dismissed him. "Besides, this is me thanking you for taking care of me last night." She said looking at the ground like it was the most interesting thing. "I'm not a pretty drunk, I suppose."
"Do you mean letting you vomit on me?" Draco was smiling, clearly amused by her embarrassment. "It's all good Granger. But don't do it again." He said sitting on the couch looking at her. "The next time you decide to get drunk, don't come near my shoes or clothes."
"Fine." She said taking the cake from the oven. "I have to say my mother would be proud. The last time I tried to bake something; things did not turn out well."
Draco had to agree with her. The cake looked delicious, with some strawberry frosting. She grabbed two plates with cake and sat next to him at the coach. "You can bite it now." She said observing him. Draco looked at her suspiciously and eventually took one bite at the cake. He tried to look uninterested for a second, but the cute look on her face was killing him. At that moment, disappointing her seemed the worse thing he could do to.
"It's bloody amazing. Probably the best cake I ever had." Draco said honestly.
Hermione's smile opened with his words. "Don't need to exaggerate it."
"I'm being serious. I don't even remember the last time I ate cake." Honestly, he could count with one hand the times he lately ate something that he enjoyed and did not want to throw up immediately.
"I will take that as a compliment then." She merely said smiling.
Draco could not point to the moment when sitting in silence with Granger become comforting. The relentless need to talk, to always feel the gap, disappeared with her. He found that comforting and thought about his parents. Despite his father's faults and selfishness, they always shared some sort of silence, peacefully. He has a vivid image of both in the library, his father's working on some papers and her mother reading, in a comforting silence that did not suffocate. Very much different from the present. Now everything they shared was Dark's Lord too.
"Draco, about earlier…" Hermione started, her glaze was pending in his as if she were asking for permission to go on. "I want to help you. Not only because there is a war starting and you are in the middle of it, but because I could not bear if anything happened to you and I could stop it."
Draco was surprised by her honestly and scared for what that meant. He was not ready to go there. Not yet. "Do you think I have a chance?" He asked instead.
"Yes, I do. With the Order. I'm not saying everyone will welcome you with open arms…" Weasley and Potter. "But this is bigger than them. They will understand eventually, I assure you."
Draco merely nodded but kept his eyes on her. He knew she was not 100% sure about this decision, but she was a Gryffindor, and she did not show any second guesses. "If it's alright with you, I want to talk to Dumbledore tomorrow."
"You don't like to wait, I see." Draco said but without anger in his voice. "Can you give me a moment to think about it?"
He knew she was going feeling impatient by the annoyed look in her eyes. "Of course."
Draco was not like her, so righteously on her side, so sure of her choices and where she stood about everything. Draco was most of the time in the middle; in a conflict with two choices, two paths, and most of the time, he always chooses the wrong one. He wondered which one this was: the right or the wrong. He could not think of one time where he felt sure about what he was doing or what he wanted. Most of the time, he did not know anything. He was just pretending.
"Alright." He merely said. "I think I'm going to bed now." Draco got up, not without noticing the look on her eyes, disappointment? Maybe she was planning a rant about the right thing to do and was gathering the courage.
"Goodnight, then." She said, after much thinking about it. "I will stay up a little more. In case…."
"In case I need a pep-talk about doing the right thing?" Draco half-smiled. "You are very predictable Granger."
She got up then, more determined than he had ever seen her. "I was thinking about us sleeping together." She said, Draco's eyes widened briefly. "Not in that way! I just… Oh, forget it."
"Don't leave me hanging, Granger. Speak your mind." He teased her.
"I slept well last night. I know I was drunk, but I could use more nights without nightmares. But since you are being an asshole about it, forget it. I preferred dreaming of a slow death." She dismissed it like it was nothing. "Besides, you don't need a pep-talk. You know what to do." And she walked to her room.
Before she closed the door, Draco grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. He missed the shape of her body, the closeness between them that they shared occasionally for the past couple of days. Kissing Hermione last night was a relief like he was holding on to something for far too long and finally, he let go. It was desperate just like he felt. But he missed the moments before Weasley almost died. He missed the lightness between them before she knew what he had to do. He wanted that back.
"I accept your offer." He said, trying to sound like it was not a big deal. He wondered when he became such a pathetic character in those romantic novels Pansy talked about endlessly.
"Oh, do you?" She asked looking smug.
"Shut up. You bring this up. I'm only doing you a favor." He smirked.
"Fuck Yo…" Before she could finish up that sentence, Draco grabbed her by her legs and pulled her into her back. "Draco!" She yelled. "Put me down!" She started laughing. He closed the door of her room and dropped her at her bed.
"You should sleep on the floor with my cat." She said playfully.
"I thought you need my presence to fall asleep, or something soul wrecking like that." He half-smiled.
"Well, I never mentioned you should sleep in my bed." She answered back. Draco approached her, sitting next to her in the bed. He mastered all the usual smug he always used to wear.
"I did not know you could be that funny, Granger." He said, approaching even more. "But you are a terrible liar."
"Really?" She did not move. "Because you know me so well, Malfoy."
"I know enough." He continued. "I know that you are a lousy drunk, a control freak, and most of the time, a pain in the ass. But I also know that you try harder than anyone I know, to do the right thing." He said sincerely. "Besides that, you want me in your bed." She laughed slightly. "You want me to kiss you like I did last night." Hermione felt her smile drop slowly, his eyes were pierced in her and she felt suddenly catastrophic. "And the other day, and the other day. Because even though you hate me and I'm a prejudiced pureblood, you want me, because no one else makes you feel like I do. Am I right?" He always knew what buttons to push, what would make her blush, what would make her angrier or happy. He knows her more than enough.
"You think too highly of yourself, Malfoy." She answered back, after a few moments of silence trying to gather up her thoughts. "I think you are projecting your desires into me.I notice the way you look at me, at my body. Especially my legs. At the class, at the Great Hall. You simply cannot take your eyes out of me." Draco half-smiled. "Don't tell me you got tired of your pureblood girls. Do I excite you?" She closed the final gap between them, facing him, without turning back this time. They were too close to each other and too distant from everything else that was happening around them. All the doubt, the prejudice, the bloodier truth.
"You're something else, I can tell you that." Draco answered back, keeping his eyes on her lips. "Does that scare you? How may I feel about you?"
"Sometimes." She said. Most of the time, really. "Not now."
"You're not drunk this time. What is your excuse, Granger?".
"The same. What's yours?" She replied.
"Do you care?" He asked.
"I don't." She admitted. "I don't need to make sense of this."
"Good." He answered. "Now what?"
"Now we sleep." Hermione said almost like a whisper. She holds his shoulders and Draco felt an urge to hug her, just to hug her, until she was out of air. Hermione pressed a kiss on his cheek. She smelled like she always did: vanilla and something fresh. He grabbed her back and pressed her into his body, in a sort of hug. Draco Malfoy never hugged anyone, besides her mother, but he needs it deeply now. He inhaled her scent, her shampoo, and pressed his face to her neck, breathing harder. Hermione allowed him, almost crumbled into her, and gently touched his hair, with the other hand on his neck, pressing his flesh, reminding him she was there.
Draco pulled back and took one look at her. "Do you think this is the smart thing to do? Trust Dumbledore?" He asked, honestly this time. "I don't give a fuck it's the right thing to do…I'm asking you if you would do the same for your family. If you would put their faiths in someone's hand whom you don't trust. If you would risk, it all for their safety." Hermione could not look away from his pleading eyes. He looked like a child, pleading to her, begging her to tell him what to do. It broke her heart.
"I would, Draco." Hermione said, fighting the tears. The memory of her parents was always hanging in the air. "Besides, you have me. I would never put you in danger, nor your mother. I know I'm not that important, but I will guarantee your place in the Order."
He touched her face and Hermione closed her eyes slightly. This felt nice. "You are very important, Granger." He said. "What about Potter and Weasley?"
Hermione was avoiding thinking about that, but she knew the downfall was inevitable. "I will take care of that." Draco could not help but smile maliciously. "Don't be such a prat, Draco. They are my best friends."
"I just enjoy this version of the history." He continues touching her cheek. "The one where you choose me."
Hermione was out of words. She never put it that way. Her choosing him over her best friends. But somehow that thought suddenly did not seem that wrong or crazy like once did. Was she choosing him?
"That's enough talking for tonight." She got up but Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.
"You're right." He kissed her passionately and she welcomes it without second-guessing.