Chapter 23
Draco kept the news of his impending homelessness to himself, and by all accounts Theo wasn't inclined to spread it around either. It had been three days since he and Theo had their altercation, and neither one of them had spoken to the other.
Draco wasn't annoyed with Theo any more, in fact he felt more sorry for him than anything. Theo was looking more exhausted and dishevelled than ever, ignoring the rest of the student body whilst he pored over textbooks in the dorm room.
Draco on the other hand was starting to feel quietly confident about his exams. He was sleeping well, staying alert in classes and feeling like he was retaining the information he was revising. All in all, he was feeling as prepared as he could be for the NEWT's.
He was studying with Granger and whoever else turned up in library in the evenings, watching her slowly getting more and more frazzled looking and snappy with the other students. Madam Pince didn't need to worry about policing the library when Hermione was in there; any unnecessary noise was swiftly dealt with and repeat offenders jinxed.
They still hadn't received their exam timetables, something which Hermione was grousing about, but Draco wasn't particularly fussed. He was slightly bewildered at why he was feeling so calm about the trials to come, after all the stakes had been raised for him rather than lessened by the arrival of his mother's letter, but he was dealing with the pressure better that he could have imagined.
"I don't see why they can't just tell us now!" Hermione's annoyed tones greeted him as he rounded the corner to their final Alchemy class. She was waiting there with Potter for Professor McGonagall to arrive, and was obviously in one of her increasingly frequent fussy/panicky moods.
"Tell us what Granger?" he asked as he got nearer to them. Potter looked up at him, seeming relieved that he could make his excuses to escape from Hermione's tirade with Draco's arrival.
"The order of the exams!" she cried, whirling to face him. Draco hadn't seen her look this manic since the OWL's and he was not on speaking terms with her at that point, so had never had to deal with it before.
"Granger." He said patiently, cutting a mocking look at Potter who was slowly reversing away from them. "It really doesn't matter what the order of the exams is. You are well prepared for them."
"I'm not though! I still have so much that I need to go over…" Granger's voice rose a couple of octaves, making Draco wonder if she was going to have a panic attack or something.
"Granger." He said again, stepping close and gripping her upper arms. "You are well prepared." He was going to keep telling her this like a mantra until she calmed down. By this time Potter had gotten several feet away, and with a mumbled "see you later", disappeared swiftly off round the corner; Coward!
He was holding Hermione's gaze, almost like he could will her into believing his words if he concentrated hard enough. There was an abrupt shift in mood between them, and he watched Hermione's pupils dilate as her breathing spiked. He started to lean in unable to deny the urge to press his lips to hers…
"Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger! My apologies for being late, a fourth year managed to partially transfigure themselves into a Walrus…" Professor McGonagall's strident voice severed the connection between them, allowing them both to shuffle away from each other a little looking sheepish.
"Not interrupting anything, am I?" McGonagall asked flippantly, knowing full well that she had been.
"That's good," she continued, taking their silence as assent. "Let's get to work!"
He and Hermione filed into the room behind her, taking their seats at the front desk without looking at each other. They listened as McGonagall summarised their past few weeks of classes, and talked about further reading they might like to do in preparation for their future roles. Draco barely noticed when his hand sought hers under the table, their fingers twining together like they had so many times before.
It wasn't until they had to get up to gather some equipment to make tincture of Comfrey, which was one of the ingredients of Skele-gro potion, that he realised what he had done, and how natural it had seemed to be touching her. He imagined that she must feel something similar, as she hadn't objected to his touch.
They fell into their usual instinctual way of working with one another, each complimenting the others work with little need to speak, making him more certain than ever that she would be a good partner for him in all ways, not just in class! He wondered if he should stick with the idea of them reviewing the situation after NEWT's or if he should tell her how he felt about her now?
Professor McGonagall chatted to them whilst they worked, giving them tips and hints to make their tincture more potent and stable as a mixture. Draco felt that this lesson was particularly useful to him and his aspirations to be a healer, grateful that McGonagall had singled him out for these classes despite his past.
"Was the career fair enlightening?" she asked, whilst their tincture slowly simmered in the crucible before them. "Do you both have an idea of what direction that you are wanting to go in?"
"I think I will be applying to the ministry." Said Hermione immediately. "There is a vacancy in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, which I'm very interested in."
"Very good!" said McGonagall stoutly. "I think that they would benefit from someone as passionate and hard working as you, Miss Granger!"
Hermione seemed to swell with pride at being the subject of Professor McGonagall's rare praise!
"What about you, Mr Malfoy?" she asked, turning to him.
"I'm going to apply to St Mungo's to become a healer." It was the first time he had stated this as his definite intention. Of course he would still apply to Gringotts anyway, but the job he really wanted was to be a Healer.
McGonagall looked surprised at this pronouncement. "I didn't realise that you had those sorts of aspirations, Draco." She told him, her tone softening a little.
"I didn't." he replied honestly. "I never even considered it before, but now it's the only thing I can think of that I want to do."
"I'm pleased to hear it. It would be a pity to let the talent and hard work that you have shown yourself to be capable of this year go to waste."
Now it was Draco's turn to flush and swell with pride! McGonagall didn't say anything she didn't mean, and she certainly did not try and build ego's, so she must actually believe that he would be a good healer, or at least had the potential to be! Deciding to take advantage of McGonagall's seemingly good mood, he asked;
"Professor, would you write my reference? I need to have a character reference for my application and I can't think of anyone else who would be as fair and honest in her assessment of me than you." He realised that this sounded very reminiscent of the way he used to try and curry favour with those who he thought would advance him, but he genuinely meant what he was saying.
"You don't need to try and flatter me Mr Malfoy, I would be happy to write you a reference." Now it was her turn to blush a little, even though her tone was as severe as usual.
Draco was feeling more optimistic than he had in weeks as he left the Alchemy lesson; his prospects were looking up! Hermione was chatting animatedly about their tincture and the other things that they could use this method on. Impulsively, he reached over and took her hand, wanting to be connected to her even if it was for the brief walk back to her common room.
"Come this way," she said, tugging him into one of the secret passageways that led away from Gryffindor tower. Bemused, he followed, glad to go wherever she was taking him.
He was both surprised and elated when she directed them to the seventh floor corridor; did she mean what he thought she did? Without saying a word, she led them past the wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy three times, causing the room of requirement to appear.
"What are we doing here, Granger?" he asked, hesitating in front of the door.
"Just for tonight, Draco. I need to relax…" She said it softly, like she was afraid that he might reject her. As if!
"It's not going to open and be that god-awful club you took me to is it?" he asked, recalling where they had ended up the last time she said she wanted to go somewhere to relax!
"No!" she laughed, her nervousness gone. "Come on!"
They stumbled through the door into their little studio flat, the Love Dungeon as Theo had so charmingly called it, still chuckling. Once the door swung shut behind them the atmosphere quickly changed; Draco's heart started to pound, the very air between them seeming to crackle with electricity.
"Granger," he said trying to exercise some self-control. "Are you sure…"
"Draco, take me to bed." She demanded, stopping his pitiful attempt to resist. He would never tire of hearing her say those words.
"Well, when you put it that way… How can I refuse?" he drawled, reaching for her.
Draco took his time undressing her, making sure to appreciate each bit of skin he uncovered, determined to savour this unexpected gift that Hermione was giving him. Less than a month ago he would have wagered that she would never allow him to touch her again, so there was no way he was going to rush this tonight.
The feel of her skin against his and her breathy little sighs were driving him crazy, he was already achingly hard and ready to sink inside her, but still kept the pace of his ministrations slow.
When they were finally both undressed and in the bed, kissing, touching, stroking, Draco murmured "Impervia concepta" and sheathed himself inside her in one long slow stroke.
They moaned in unison, Draco feeling a mix of ecstasy and relief; he had missed this so much! Not just the sex, obviously he had missed that, but the connection to her that came with physical intimacy. That feeling of being known and trusted by somebody else, by Hermione, that meant so much.
When they had both culminated in a rush of breathless, spine-tingling pleasure, Draco rested his cheek against hers, leaning in to whisper "I've missed you" into her ear. Instead of those heartfelt words though, he said something else. Something equally true but almost entirely intentional;
"I love you."
He felt Hermione tense a little beneath him, and realised that he had made a mistake.
"What did you say?" she asked him, rolling a little to get him off of her.
"I said I missed you." He said quickly, rolling to his elbow so he could face her. Maybe he could brazen this out.
"No you didn't." she said, also turning to her side to face him. "You said that you loved me. Why would you say that!?"
Crap! She had heard him properly. Oh well, he had said it now, he may as well run with it!
"Because it's true. I'm in love with you Granger. I can't stop thinking about you, I want to talk to you and be with you all the time."
"But you said that we needed to split up and concentrate on our NEWT'S!" she seemed somewhat bewildered, and Draco wondered how someone so clever could be so dim about how other people saw her.
"Yes, and we should be concentrating on our NEWT's, but here we are. I don't want to stay away from you Granger." He was on a roll now. "I love you Granger, and I want you to marry me once all this is over."
"What? Have you been hit with a confundus charm?! You can't marry me!" Hermione sat up, pulling the sheet with her.
"Nope. I'm not confunded, I want to marry you Granger." He was feeling a little delirious; unburdening himself was a relief, even as he knew it was the wrong time and place for this confession.
"I'm far too young to be even thinking about getting married!" she squawked. "Who gets married at 19 nowadays? Rednecks and uber-religious types!"
And pure blood families, he thought, but didn't add. His ill thought out declaration was not going down well.
"Then I will wait until you are old enough to think about it. What age is suitable? 21? 25?" he realised that he needed to temper his emotional outburst with something more rational if he didn't want her to dismiss his feelings entirely as an impulse of the moment.
"I don't know; when it feels right!" she sounded exasperated, like he was being purposely difficult.
"It feels right to me." He said quietly. "I know I don't have anything to offer to you except myself, but that will change, Granger. I will work every day until I can provide you with a home and support our family."
"Oh Draco!" she sounded disappointed in him, which stung a little. "It's not about what you can offer me! Why are you doing this now? I know everything is changing and it's scary, but you don't have to…"
"I didn't plan to tell you anything tonight!" he bit back, angered and hurt by her easy dismissal of his feelings. "I was going to take you back to your common room and leave you to it. You decided that you wanted this tonight, and it just slipped out!"
"What do you mean that it just slipped out…" her tone was more measured now.
"Come on Granger, it's obvious! I have been in love with you ever since I first kissed you on Christmas Eve! The only reason that I haven't told you before is because I was worried about this sort of reaction; I knew that you wouldn't believe me!"
"It's not that I don't believe you Draco, it's just been so quick…." Hermione was sounding terribly reasonable, which was more hurtful to Draco than if she had responded with anger.
"It's ok Granger, I think we have established that I have just made a fool of myself." He failed to keep the bitterness from his voice. He slid from the bed and started to gather his clothes, desperate to get some distance from the soul-crushing disappointment of her rejection. How could he have been so stupid and impulsive?! He should have stuck to the plan!
Hermione watched as he quickly dressed, seeming on the verge of saying something a couple of times but remaining silent.
"Sorry Hermione," he said when he was ready to leave, determined to salvage some dignity. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."
Without waiting for a reply, he left the room of requirement, quickly ducking into the secret passageway nearby to avoid meeting anyone who could see how distressed he was. Shrouded in darkness behind the tapestry covering the entrance of the passage, he leant against the wall, allowing his head to drop back against the cold stone. He had ruined everything.
