AUTHOR'S NOTE:
In previous chapters, I have referenced the works of Taylor Swift. This chapter will feature one song in particular. It's happiness by Taylor Swift and will appear in italics. It will be seen in both Draco and Hermione's POV. I just thought that it suited the scenario so well and it felt criminal not to make the parallels specially since I've been drawing inspiration for titles from her songs.
Hope you enjoy:)
"It's a fake I swear! We didn't take anything else!" Hermione screamed.
"Liar!" Screeched Bellatrix.
A glint of metal blinded Hermione for a second, and then gruelling pain. She could feel the blade tearing every fibre of her skin as Bellatrix carved the word 'mudblood' into her. Hermione screamed and battled but Bellatrix was strong. She could feel her humid breath on her arm, her breathing fast and irregular from excitement. She took her time etching the word in, and every second was excruciating pain. When she was finally done, Hermione had two seconds of relief before Bellatrix's crooked wand was pointed at her. A blast of light came out and Hermione felt the loss of control with a jerk. Her body contorting, and convulsing. She tried to wrench her eyes open but it was pitch black. She couldn't see. The only thing she could feel was pain pricking every nerve in her body and her crawling skin as Bellatrix's laughter echoed in her ears.
"Stop! No no no!," Hermione woke with a start. Her muscles were clenched and cold sweat was beading on her clammy skin. She moved her head to the side, Malfoy was still asleep. He was twitching slightly, muttering words as his brows furrowed. Hermione wagered he was also having a nightmare. She took a deep breath and exhaled as she tried to even out her shallow breathing. Then, she brought her shaky hand to his face and felt his temperature. He was cold as ice. She gently shook his shoulders, causing him to wake.
"What? What? Is everything alright?" he shot up into a sitting position, his hands gripping the sheets. His face pale as milk, and his wild eyes were looking around frantically.
She grabbed him by the shoulders gently shushing him, "it's ok. Everything's fine. You were just having a bad dream and you're icy to the touch."
Hermione pulled him towards her, his chin resting in her shoulder as he took shallow breaths. Hermione rubbed his bare back as she tried to comfort him. His skin hasn't warmed and it felt as if she was hugging a cloud at a mountain peak. She brought him in closer, wrapping her arms as tightly as she could around him until she felt his heartbeat slow. They stayed like that for a few minutes before he pulled away. He cupped her face, his silver eyes were luminous in her dark room, "you're freezing too."
"I was having a nightmare. I woke up and saw you muttering something, you looked troubled. I felt your skin and decided to wake you. I figured, whatever it was, you probably didn't want to stay in it." She inched closer to him, needing each other for heat.
"It was a memory of him. He had been whipping me for what felt like hours. I remember him stopping and the relief of it made me burst into tears. That was until l he aimed his wand at my mother and cast the crucio curse until she lost consciousness from the pain. I was across the room unable to move from my open wounds, laying in a pool of my own spilt blood and tears while I was forced to watch her pain. I was begging for him to stop, please, not my mother. To add to it, wouldn't let me help her afterwards. He wouldn't let anyone help, she just lay there. Helpless, the both of us."
Hermione pulled him back down into the bed. His head was against her chest and she gently ran her hand up and down his back. Her heart had started to quicken after imagining the scene he had described. She had thought that the high ranking Death Eaters and their families had been free of this type of torture. It was naive of her to think so. Voldemort was an extremely cruel master and he had no sympathy for anyone, including his own followers.
"He had tortured us both before that. I never had faith in his cause, I didn't want to be a Death Eater. He threatened my mother and I if I did not submit, if I failed. I like to believe my father didn't know. He has always been absolutely devoted to my mother and he was never present for her torture. I don't think he would have continued on with his servitude had he known how hurt she was. But I'm angry, I'm so filled with fucking rage. How could he be so foolish and blind. He's weak for being brainwashed into this pure blood propaganda that was so thinly veiled as a means for Voldemort's ambition to be immortal. I'm so angry, Hermione. I'm so angry all the time and I a hard to keep it in."
She sucked in a breath. His revelation was a lot to take in, and she should be running from the scarlet coloured flags being raised right now. But he had just called her Hermione. And the way he said it sounded like reverence. So she sighed and gently ran her fingers through his hair, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry this happened to you, Draco. You're safe now."
He looked up at her, honey meeting silver. His face was still tainted with sadness. "What was your nightmare?"
She looked down at him, she knew he could feel her pain, "you know. The night at the manor."
She didn't want to say the Malfoy Manor. He felt burdened enough by his mother's pain. She didn't want to add to it by associating his name with her nightmare. Despite her effort, he still tensed in her touch.
He gripped her tighter. "I should have done something."
"It was never your fault. It was always Voldemort." She kissed the top of his head.
Hermione told him about her parents. How she had obliviated them and sent them to another country for their own safety. How it was the most gut wrenching and painful thing she had ever done. They don't even know her anymore, and she can't change their memories back. It was too late.
And that's how they spent the night. They told each other stories of the war, burying their trauma and anguish in whispered apologies and earnest touches. Words of comfort filled Hermione's ears as she filled Draco's with her own. Until words developed into deepened kisses and his touch found fervour. She opened up to him willingly. His tongue invited into every part of her. He had brought his lips to inch after inch of her skin until she felt no one had known her until this moment. Draco has seen her, felt her, and she didn't want him to stop. His tongue continued to languish in her own, as his fingers dipped into her folds. She let out a moan as he found the spot that sent shivers down her spine and made her limbs weaken. She moaned and screamed his name as she was sent over to the edge. His darkened eyes glinted at her release. She was out of breath but she returned the favour, taking him into her mouth as she watched his head tilt back in pleasure. She bobbed her head up and down Draco's length until saltiness filled her mouth. She swallowed every last drop, looking up at Draco whose eyes got impossibly dark as he watched. He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her with force before he lowered himself and slid into her. Hermione hissed at the initial contact. Draco stayed in place, kissing her gently until her pain had subsided. Then, he moved with vigor. He sucked on the sensitive spot underneath Hermione's jaw, leaving marks. Hermione didn't care. She wanted him to mark her. In this moment, she was his.
"Yours," she moaned.
"You're mine, Hermione Granger." He thrust unrelentingly into her, "you're mine."
Moans tumbled out of her throat as she was brought to the peak of another release. Her thighs shook around Draco as the pleasure exploded within her. Draco's thrust became hurried, his breathing more ragged until he groaned into his final thrust and laid on top of Hermione.
"Fuck," he whispered, "you're phenomenal ." He brought her closer, breathing her in. "You're so beautiful, Hermione."
She smiled against his chest and closed her eyes. It wasn't long before sleep had found her.
Hours later, the rays of sunlight filtered into Hermione's bedroom, causing her eyelids to flutter open. She groaned as she felt a welcome soreness in between her soreness. Suddenly, she became very aware of the heavy arm wrapped around her. She looked to her side to see his disheveled blonde hair framing his face, his skin looked less pale than usual, and a small smile was pasted on his lips as he snored lightly. He looked peaceful. Hermione smiled as she ran a finger along his jaw. She left a small peck on the bridge of his nose and snuggled up against him more. His hair smelled of peppermint, and his skin of bergamot. She breathed him in and sighed, his scent intoxicated her.
She stared at Malfoy some more, effectively carving his likeness into her memory for eternity. She had never seen him like this, he looked less like a Greek statue and more like someone had taken a look at him and used soft oil paint to memorialize him on canvas. She silently hoped that this wouldn't be the last time she'd wake up to him like this.
She watched as his lashes gently fluttered and his silver eyes peeked from under, his smile widening a tad as he mumbled a, g'mornin.
She had to fight the urge to wrap him in a hug so tight and gently kiss him. It seemed he didn't feel like fighting his own urge as he did just that. They continued to lay in bed for what seemed like only a few minutes, but she soon realized was way over an hour. Hermione proceeded to announce she was going to shower, and his unsurprising response was to join her. He took his time as he massaged apple scented shampoo into her hair and scalp, it was so relaxing that he had effectively gotten rid of whatever worries she had from her nightmare. He was surprisingly gentle when he wanted to be. He rubbed soapy bubbles all over her back, but in typical Draco Malfoy fashion, his hands lingered a few seconds down her arse and up on her chest. In those seconds, she felt something particularly hard poking at her back. To which Hermione smugly looked up at his unapologetic expression. They had continued the events of last night and christened Hermione's bathroom. It was safe to say, she will be plenty sore later on.
Hermione had tried to fit Draco into one of Ron's old shirt that he had left behind. He vehemently refused and took so much offence not only for having her ex's shirt pawned off to him, but having a Weasley hand me down. Hermione had given up and let him wander around half naked in his transfigured pyjamas. Besides, she liked to admire his abs and his muscular arms, and his face. Everything about him, really.
Afterwards, the pair had found their way into her kitchen. She made them coffee and he cooked up some eggs and toast. She found herself surprised that he had any basic cooking skills and wondered what else he was able to make. This train of thought led her to wonder what other things she didn't know about Draco Malfoy. A man who has been surprising her to no end since that rainy day at the cafe. She decided to compose a list. As Hermione does.
- reads in a muggle/wizard coffee shop
- knows how to cook (so far, eggs and toast)
- is an artist
- has surprisingly good self control at times
- smells like peppermint
- jealous
- looks cute sleeping
- extremely good at ...
Her list writing was interrupted by Draco snatching up the piece of parchment and loudly reading the list out to her, as if she hadn't just wrote it.
"Extremely good at what Granger," he wagged his eyebrows at her, to which he earned a smack on the arm.
"At being a prat," she retorts
"I wouldn't think that's surprising at all," he laughs.
She softens at the sound, she rarely heard him laugh, "true, so I guess you'll never know since you snatched up my parchment before I was done."
"Extremely good at snogging?" He left a light kiss on her lips, he then moved on to leaving kisses on her neck, "at finding your weak spots?"
He grabbed her hand and twirled her around the kitchen, "dancing?" He pressed Hermione's back against his chest, his arms wrapped around her as his fingers snaked down to her thighs, "at making you feel things no one's ever made you feel before?"
She could feel his smirk forming despite not seeing his face for herself. She wrenched herself free from his grip.
"At having the sexual inhibitions of a hot blooded 15 year old!" She huffed.
"I don't think I'm the only one feeling that way right now. What do you say we christen your kitchen table?" Draco joked. She was 99% sure he was only half kidding.
Hermione merely blushed and ignored him. She took her plate to the table and began nibbling on her toast. It was sour bread that Molly had baked and sent over, knowing it was her favourite. She watched as he nodded approvingly after taking a bite out of it.
"I like this," she pointed out.
"The bread? It's quite good,"
"Yes, but I meant this. Us. In my kitchen, I feel at peace." She smiled as she looked at him. What a strange development it was, Draco Malfoy was almost a complete stranger to her about three weeks ago, and now he was drinking coffee and eating toast in her kitchen after they had just spent the night together, actually sleeping. Well, and not sleeping together.
"Hmm," he smiled. They are quietly for the rest of their breakfast. Hermione was enjoying it, taking it as a sign of how comfortable they are with each other.
Draco was enjoying her company but his mind was racing. Externally, he was the epitome of composure and relaxation. Internally, he was freaking out. Here he was in Hermione Granger's kitchen, all but domesticated. He had slept next to her without having sex, at first. He snuggled next to her and didn't find it appalling. Draco Malfoy had not snuggled anyone ever in his life! He even got in the shower with her and washed her hair. He used her products and now he too smelled like apples and honey. Not that he minded, but all of this made Draco squirmy. Yes, he was the one who wanted to see Granger but he was feeling unsure. His train of thought expanded into all sorts of scenarios and he suddenly felt the air thin. His breathing became ragged, and his heart was pumping harder. The walls felt like they were closing in on him and everything was making him feel claustrophobic. He dropped his mug with a thud and gripped the edge of the table. His knuckles turned white from the force and his breathing would not calm. He was having trouble understanding why his brain is freaking out right now. He reminded himself one more time that he wanted this. This was strange but it was nice. He just wasn't used to it.
"Draco?" Hermione had finished her breakfast and took to reading the paper. She was peering at him from the coffee table. "Are you alright?"
"Of course, why would you think otherwise?"
"You're being awfully quiet, and you've just spilt some coffee," she had gotten up now and was behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist. "I'm a pensive man."
"And apparently clumsy," she chuckled.
He tensed which caused Hermione to unwrap herself. She grabbed Draco's arm and moved him to face her.
"Did I do something?" Her amber eyes had widened with worry.
"No, Granger. Drop it." His voice pointed, and raised.
"I most certainly will not be dropping it! Something is wrong and you're not telling me," she had balled her fists up and was staring at him in her typical Gryffindor determination.
"Quit being stubborn. I'm getting some air," he moved to walk towards the door but Hermione grabbed his hand and laced it with hers.
"Not until you tell me what's bothering you," her chin was jutted out, her feet planted on the floor.
"Fine! You want to know what's wrong Granger? This, right now. This is too much for me. I feel caged, I can't even breathe. I don't want to do this," he hissed.
showed you all my hiding spots
i was dancing when the music stopped
As soon as the words were out he would have given anything to take them back. He didn't mean them, she was just annoying him right now and it's his default defence to sabotage any good thing in his life. He wanted her. He needed to hold her so badly, it hurt. The look in her eyes sent a painful pang stabbing through his chest. Her eyes had widened and glossed over. Her previously laced fingers dropped Draco's hand and were now clutching her shirt. She looked almost as if she was trying to hug herself. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and tell her how sorry he was.
"We were only having breakfast," she said dejectedly. There was a long pause and he watched as the emotions built up inside of her and rattled their way out.
"You pursued me, Malfoy. Not the other way around! I didn't ask for you to be in my life. You snaked your way in and waited for me to drop my guard only to throw it all in my face. You know what, I don't need this. You can see yourself out and do me a favour, don't come back!"
He gently grabbed her hand, "Hermione, stop."
She shrugged it off, "this is so typical of you, Malfoy. You wouldn't know what a vulnerable human emotion feels like if it bit you in the face. We were simply spending time together, building a connection. What else could I expect from someone who was raised by Death Eater parents."
when did all our lessons start
to look like weapons pointed at our deepest hurt?
That was uncalled for. His rage bubbled up inside of him and spilled out. He slammed his hands on the counter behind him, pinning her in front of him. He hissed, "you don't know shit about what went down with my parents, Granger. You have no business talking about them. Besides, at the very least, I actually have parents. You've got two obliviated nameless fucks in Australia who are strangers to you. You're worse than fucking Potter. His parents at least knew that they loved him, and they died knowing that. Your parents will wither and die without ever remembering you, without a second of thought for you. And it is. All. Your. Fault."
Tears had started to form at the corners of her eyes and were now fighting to tumble down her beautiful face. Fuck. He did this.
no, I didn't mean that
sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury
Her lips trembled as she mouthed, "Get out."
So he did. He walked out of Granger's house, and after that explosion, probably her life. His chest felt extremely heavy and he couldn't shake the feeling off.
oh, leave it all behind
Hermione slid down her kitchen counter sobbing quietly. She had let Malfoy in. She had felt safe and found comfort with him and he tore it all apart in a matter of minutes. She stayed there sobbing for eight songs to play out in her head before she told herself to pull it together. It wasn't her fault, she said. He's unstable and emotionally unavailable. Draco Malfoy had probably never had a meaningful relationship in his life. As much as she didn't like to think of all the women he bedded, that's probably the extent of intimacy he's experienced. And she felt bad for him.
"It's not your fault," she repeated. "It's not your fault."
She retreated to her bedroom, pulled out her muggle device and played her muggle songs. She stared at her bed. It was a mess. It was evidence and a reminder that Draco had been here. They had spent the night here, their bodies tangled together, whispers of all but love ghosted on her ceilings. She could almost still hear his words. You're beautiful. She climbed in her bed and found her blanket scrunched up at the foot of her bed and both her pillows were indented by having been slept on. She laid down on her side and caught a whiff of him still lingering in her sheets. She choked back a sob and yanked the blanket up to cover her.
but now my eyes leak acid rain
on the pillows where you used to lay your head
It shouldn't feel this serious. It shouldn't feel this hurtful. Hermione had spent hardly any time with him but she felt connected to him. Yes, they had an undeniable spark and chemistry, but it felt deeper than that. Malfoy's touch felt right. It never felt awkward like Ron's. Malfoy's hands would find their way into hers and it felt like they were meant to be there, like the universe had carved them from the same stone, fingers interlaced before separating them. They had fit together. And now he tore them away.
in our history, across our great divide
there is glorious sunrise
dabbled with the flickers of light
Hermione spotted Malfoy's discarded shirt on the door and her own green dress lay in a heap next to it. She closed her eyes. Thinking back to the day at the coffee shop, and the night they met at the gallery. Pearly tears fell from her already tear-stained face.
from the dress i wore at midnight, leave it all behind
oh, leave it all behind