Read Me -
Disclamer: These characters (the lovely Hermione and the devilishly good
looking Draco) do not belong to me, but the ingenius J. K. Rowlings and
persistant Warner Brothers Company, only because WB will sue me (for the
love of the moon goddess Selene, the sue "innocent" children) for not
insisting this disclaimer is placed, informing everybody (who already knows
Harry Potter is a trademark of Warner Brothers), that HP certainly does.
Even though the real owner of this book series belongs to the true
sorceress of words J.K Rowlings. But all the other crappy stuff belongs to
me! Enjoy and don't sue.
Chapter Three- To Our Courtship
D.M. POV -
"Good bloody hell. Draco Malfoy, I am going to kill you." She's back. After five desired, but quiet hours, Granger was back from Hogsmeade and going to kill me.
"What's new?" There she appeared at my doorway, looking like a mangled kitten, that is about to eat me. "What did Elle do to you? You look like Goyle and Crabbe used you as toilet paper." Oh, witty.
With a look that could kill, Granger dragged her tired body on my favorite love seat. Must I remind you that it was MY favorite love seat. "Is that a way to treat a girl? I knew you were scum, but I thought you were scum with manners."
"Who said you were a girl?" Then a pillow bombarded me on the head. Ouch. Note to self: Never tease Granger when exhausted, might result in massive head injury or. . .
"Pillow Fight!" I yelled to a startled Granger. Pillows flew, laughter arose, and minutes passed, until we were both exhausted on the floor, back to back. When I turned, I saw the side of Granger I never seen before: a vulnerable, innocent girl named Hermione.
Looking incredibly seducing in a innocent sort of way, the mangled hair, lovely chestnut eyes looking childish, and a loving smile that I only recieved in my dreams, she was a picture of an angel. A very womanly figured cherub.
At the corner of her hair, lay a white swan feather, begging me to take it off. And so I did. "Make a wish." I told her, as I held the feather up to her nose, causing her nose to itch.
"What?" Hermione whispered, confused and with the look in her eyes, frightened. "Make. A. Wish." Closing her eyes, a few seconds passed, as she made her secret wish, probably about Potter. I hate Potter. I don't why I suddenly hate Potter so much all of a sudden. It's because he get's everything: the fame, the popularity, Hermione . . . Hermione?!?
Not the Gryffindor, proud, seducing, intelligent Hermione Granger, Golden Boy's girlfriend, but the Hermione now, the innocent one that seems to be always there to love you.
Humbug. All a bunch of Gryffindor hogwash.
In a husky, low tone, I asked her what was her wish. With a teasing smile, she shook her head slowly. "Nope, I can't tell you what my wish is. It might not come true."
"If you tell me, I can grant your wish for you. You can buy anything with money." She, then, gave a persistant sigh.
"It is one thing that being a rich, spoil brat as yourself never learned. Money can't buy courage, compassion, forgiveness, loyalty, love." At the word "love", the girl lingered a bit on the word, as she was drawn in a distant reverie.
Love. Who needs love when you could have anything you want with money?
"Without love, there would be no life. Without love, the world would be in a heartless war without any end. Don't you see, Draco? Everybody needs love to live a complete life."
How true she was. Hermione Granger always spoke the truth, even with something as unreal as love.
"The world is already in a heartless war without an end. Love isn't real, Granger. It is a lie, a fantasy of many men drove to insanity just because the never experience it. Don't get materialistic and speak such nonsense. It could destroy you." I stood up, and tried to make a break away from this conversation. But Hermione was too fast for the likes of me.
"You just say that because you never thought you could experience love. But you have, even with that icy wall around your heart."
What was she talking about? A Malfoy never experienced love, ever.
"What are babbling about, Granger? I have never cross the other side with those retarded losers and their girlfriends."
"Malfoy! Hello? Love is the thing between you and Elle. Love is the relationship you have with your mother. It doesn't have to be a sexual relationship! Love is the friendship between friends. I could die right now, and be a happy person because I lived a life filled with so much love. When will you understand?"
Leaving me with thoughts unknown, her footstep signaled her departure from my room. I could remember the rythmn, it was times like these I was more aware with my surroundings. Thump, clish. Thump, clish. Thump, clish.
It was my lullaby . . . funny, isn't it? Love is a very funny thing. Or was it delirium?
H.G. POV -
When I left the room, I come to notice my breath was an uneasy rythmn and I was close to breaking in a chain of tears. How did Malfoy drive me to such lengths in tears in mere seconds?
Or was it the ever urging temptation to comfort him like a teddy bear. Malfoy? A teddy bear? True, he had a softer side to the vicious Slytherin prince in our Hogwarts years. But a teddy bear?
Were we friends? Something about the pass weeks destroyed the bond of enemies created during the seven years of our youth, but are we friends?
Will I care for him as my friend? Love him as my heart says when my voice of reason say keep away from the fire or get burnt.
As I supported myself on a corner wall, my fingers barely caressing the fabric of the wallpaper, as if bewitched, my eyes bared wet tears. Then I felt someone brush the tear away. Facing him, I thought to myself if it was worth it.
Like a puff of smoke, he disapeared, realizing the thought was a pigment of my imagination.
Was it worth it to break the ice of a most deadly dragon?
"Draco, I'm there for you. I'll love you as my friend. I will love you. No body deserves to be alone. Not you."
But he never heard. Maybe it wasn't meant to be known. However I'll continuing loving him.
As my friend, as my Slytherin prince.
***
"Rain, rain. Go away, come again some other day." As I sing this childhood relic of a song, I watch the rain drops fall mercilessly on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. On the windowpane, foggy and wet, lay countless smiley faces which I drawn just for the very heck of it.
I was bored! Extremely bored enough to act like that annoying, five year old Hermione Granger I was. Great Merlin, do something about the damn rain.
Then an childish idea happen to pass by in my empty pasture of the green Ireland, or other terms, my head. Grabbing my red, shiny boots and jacket of the same crimson color, my feet dragged me to the outside world of Atlantis found on the grassy lawns of Malfoy Manor.
Splash! Splash! Splash! Any one with a right mind wouldn't be out in the rain, stepping on every muddy puddle. But I didn't have a right mind, at all. Not when I'm bored.
It amazed me to every bit that I'm actually having fun, and started to giggle.
A fine melody of latin music, spicy and sensual, reminding me of the many times I've heard it in my grandmother's humble castle and the many times I danced with Harry Potter, the boy who lived to break my heart. Memories. The tears. Everything. I just wanted to forget.
It came from the west wing of the manor, where I believe Draco's eccentric mother dwells. So she loves this music. Even with the music that scars the past, I still love the heavy rythmn of the dance.
The dance called the tango.
Swaying my hips naturally, I started to dance the solo tango steps I learnt time and time again. In the rain, I imagined at the minute, that I was still in my grandmother's palace, wearing that lovely crimson dress I adored for so long, but never wore. Because I wasn't beautiful enough.
Not even for Harry.
Tears dared to escape my eyes, but were never seen in the mix of rain. It showed in my dancing however. Suddenly in the mists of everything, I felt a lean, muscular warmth pressed against me, and a breath against my cheek.
"Dancing in the rain. Isn't it bit cliche for even you?" Draco. Always that witty one, he is. "Who cares? Beats staying inside nice and warm. Plus it's just a little rain."
I turned around and faced him, his glorious, handsome face in it's usual half smile. My breath went rather rigid, the past days, Draco Malfoy always leaves me bothered and hot.
"Guess you are right. I see that you can dance, but no one beats the master of dance. I am the very best. Let's dance." Tango. His movenments, his steps, the closeness, the heat underneath our damp clothes. This man was a perfectionist in the art of tango and of course, seducing.
D.M. POV -
Damn. A little rain? Does a little rain make the little mist on her long eyelashes look so tempting and innocent. She doesn't know what she's doing to me.
How would I know that when I escaped the paper work of the ministry, my unusual rabbit would be dancing outside like a child? That I would be dancing with her as well?
How could I resist? This beautiful woman was the image of an angel in the rain, looking more gorgeous than all the other blondes, brunettes, and red heads I've seen in my life. Because?
The question appeared in my head like a bolt of lightning scar of Harry Potter's forehead. What a pun. Why did I think that Hermione Granger look extraordinarly lovely today? Even when her confidence in herself was lower than the possibility of me falling in love.
What a frustrating woman! She drives me insane with confusion, and this perfect feeling when Hermione fits safely in my arms. From the top of her chocolatey cascade of hair, the scent of lavender and vanilla fills my senses. I wouldn't mind staying here forever.
As I drew the dance to a flirtatious dip, I gazed into her eyes, those chocolate browns that could addict any man, I'm still wondering why she wasn't claim yet. Hermione Granger was a goddess beyong all goddesses. My gaze traveled south to the ever seducing, kissable lips. Red and full, perfect for kissing. Curious, my finger grazed over those sugary lips that drove me to near insanity and wonder if any other man tasted these gifts from the gods. Coming to the conclusion, I didn't want any other man except me to claim her mine.
She was mine! Closer I came, until our lips slightly touched, tasting not taking, wanting but not tempted to go any further than the gentlest of touch.
But the seduction was too much for me. When was I affected like this. A womanizer like me was never tempted by any other woman, the most beautiful tried but failed. However now, I just couldn't stop now. Not now, not when I was so close.
Like a hawk on his prey, I dove for the kill and it landed me my own doom. I forgot everything. Can a woman actually be gifted the power of taking stress away? A wonder to medical science. At first, only I was reacting to the kiss, tongue touching and everything. Then she, with the shyness of a schoolgirl, attempted to use her cute pink tongue of hers.
I groaned. Hermione Granger tasted wonderful, like chocolate and marshmellows. The perfect thing on a cold rainy night.
"Mmmm. I'm having to use all my self-control to not sweep you off your feet and bring you to my bedroom. And make endless love sessions to a gorgeous angel. Have any one told you that you are the most beautiful woman I've seen in my life?" She looked at me with her eyes, as I sensed a tint of rosy pinkness on her cheeks. An angel. She was my angel. But what was this feeling? Could it be lo- no, it can't. Must be lust.
Perfectly normal for something like lust to happen between a man and a woman. Perfectly normal. (So he says.)
H.G. POV -
How many times have I imagined for a man to utter those words to me? How many countless nights have I read that tall, dark, and handsome hero speak the same phrases to his fair maiden in the love stories borrowed from the library?
When Draco Malfoy told me that I was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, a rush of adrenaline flutter into the pit of my stomach, as I felt a touch of grace befall me. Being in his strong arms, possesively around my petite bodice, I had the urge to cry in happiness.
Then I remembered the betrayal I felt when another man spoke these words so well, however not as romantic as the way Draco makes it. It hurt. It hurt me terribly, and still I bared the scars of the pain.
The words that Draco Malfoy spoke that night after Pansy's slashing confession was made repeated again and again. "I care less if you had a thousand lovers in the past, but for the present, you are mine and no one else."
So he just lusted over me? To contain the emptiness and lust for a woman who he found attractive?!? I knew better than to believe a Malfoy, but suddenly the truth hurts. It was all a lie? I tried to fight the losing battle against my tears, but the waterworks was on a role today.
Why would I be crying? It's just Draco Malfoy! But he wasn't just Draco Malfoy any more, he was different. He was an incredible person, and it hurt to feel rejection. Being the "incredible" person he was, Draco made me forget the pain when Harry left me heartbroken. I owed him at least a "thank you."
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For making me forget the pain I felt when someone left me heartbroken for something better. It almost made me feel special, like I was really beautiful. I mean it's really kind of you to feel guilty enough so you can make me feel like I was wanted. Must be a special gift, making rejects feel needed."
I tried to stifle a laugh to make it sound like a joke, but it only made it seem I was choking on my sobs. And maybe I was.
D.M. POV -
Wrong thing to say, Hermione, wrong thing to say.
She thinks I kissed her because I felt pity and guilt towards her sorry little ass. Impossible. I truely think Hermione Granger is the most wonderful person I met in my life, even if I just lust for her (dumb one, isn't he?).
What angers me the most was that she made me feel guilty at myself. A Malfoy, guilty? But I wasn't my father's son, the man doesn't deserve to be called a father. Neither the less, I was still a Malfoy.
The tears were transparant as they mingled with the rain, but the pained expression in her eyes showed otherwise. Why was she hiding this from me, all the guilt, the pain? I thought we were friends. (People, remember the night when we found out Pansy Park-N-Slut was hurting her, they made a vow to become friends.)
However the anger seemed stronger than the compassion I felt, it nearly blinded me with rage.
"I don't need you to thank me, Granger. I don't need your thanks. You still don't get it, do you? You still haven't got over Potter, so you need to make me feel guilty. What I said was true, every word. But now I think that you really are a sorry reject with no self-confidence. You just want to soak in self-pity. Granger, you are pathetic. It pains me to see such a worthless person who knows nothing about what I think and what you really are. Pathetic, really."
Words. I thought words were just letters stringed together making sentences. But these "words" seemed cruel and undeserving to a person like Hermione. However the guilt and anger was intoxicating my sense to feel compassion, so that the only words I spoke, were ones that weren't true.
Did I care?
I cared like the world, but I just couldn't melt that barrier of ice surrounding my heart for a few laughs, the best kisses, and the first time I was geniunely happy in my life. (Oh, how dumb can our little Dracie get?) For the few times in my life, I cried with the rain as the rain and my tears seemed to fit.
A rainy day for tears.
As my feet carried me away, ignoring the goddess with a past that seem to destroy everything, on the mud-stained grounds of Malfoy Manor, the cowardice dragon turned his back on the very few chances on a lifetime of love with his fragile rabbit who can't seem to forget.
Denial.
***
D.M. POV -
Hours passed, after that unfortunate incident in the rain. My head was in a fuddle, and it seems I couldn't concentrate on anything. I put my papers down in defeat, and sighed. Damn that woman, she always infuriates me even when she's not around.
Hermione Granger, the only woman who could drive me to the near brink of insanity, was stamped in his thoughts ever since she stepped into the manor. In my sleep, during my work, while eating, even when I, how should we say it?, nead to go to the privey (the bathroom, you ninny!).
However I came to the one conclusion that erased all my negative thoughts away, that would cheer me when I think the world might end right there, but I would die a happy man. The angel in the rain made me feel loved.
"Draco! You ninny (can't have enough of the word!)! What did you do to her? I swear, I will kill you if anything happens to Auntie Hermie." What in Merlin's name is my annoying speak of a sister ranting about?
"Can you tell me, in a rational voice, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!" I seem rational, you think?
"Don't tell me you don't know. Hermione has been missing for the past hour, Draco!" The lithe body of the silver-haired girl dropped to the carpet, in sobs. In the palm of her hand, the one she covered her face, was tears. Tears.
"Draco. I'm afraid. I don't want to lose Hermione, ever." In some way, my other angel said in words hidden by sorrow and compassion, that she loved that person in ways I don't know, because I never dared to love anyone.
But did I love Hermione Granger? That should be left simply a mystery.
The thought of losing my chocolate brown-haired angel was painful. Something I could never handle. As if it was an instinct, my feet carried me as fast as it could, searching through the gardens of Malfoy Manor.
Somehow I knew Hermione was out here. Why? Why did I hurt her so much? The pain in my heart couldn't bare the emotions, and tears fell gently on the curves of my face.
"Hermione!"
"Hermione!"
"Hermione!"
I repeated her name over and over again, but the garden was still as tranquil as the night's ocean. When I kept repeating her name, as my weak cry for help, my voice grew hoarse and quite husky.
In the first time in years, my memories journeyed back to the innocent and vulnerable boy of four, desperate for love, only to recieve more pain and scars given by my father. Once again, I became that desperate little boy, but I couldn't let go of the woman I care about the most.
Hermione Granger was special, she was the light of the dark tunnel, and without her I would be lost, never to feel the joy of happiness. I knew I didn't love her, but I cared for her deeply, more than any other person in the world.
I couldn't lose her. Without the smile, the gentle warmth she possess, the gift of loving, her scent, I would die.
Hours flew by, like the never-ending torchure of realizing that you lost that person you care for, it seemed as if all hope and faith was gone from the face of the earth. A blur in the distance caught my attention.
I ran, even if the chances of this being a flower patch, or a forlorn animal, but I couldn't live with the fact that she simply was gone. As the blur came clearer, a smile crept to my face.
Hermione.
As if a fallen angel from nirvana, the sight of her was mesmorising. The silky mane of hair spread like a rich carmel halo, and her lips was still ever promising to taste. I missed this. I missed her. And now I found her, I'm never letting her go.
When I reached her, the tiny hand that belonged to Hermione, was scalding hot. I felt the skin around her, every inch was a raging infernio. She was buring of fever. And the battle was not yet over.
I gathered her extremely light body into my arms, and gazed down upon her, giving her a light, sugary kiss on her lips.
"Just fight it, Hermione. I can't lose you."
"I will, Draco."
After that, she dropped into a state of unconsciousness, with the last of her undenyable charm, a smile. A smile for me. With that little inspiration, I grinned like a happy fool. A very happy fool.
Once we, meaning the unconscious Hermione and I, reached the majestic manor of mayhem, or what my chocolate-haired angel once stated one bright morning, I brought her to the quarantine room.
Elizabeth. The one word that could describe her expression as she watched in front of the door was fear.
"Elle. Quickly, get a sponge and a bowl full of ice cold water. Now!" At my persistant
Heading for my flame-feathered owl, Enigma, I owled the request for the best mediwizard in the entire continent of Europe. As I stared at the opaque complection of the only girl I cared for, and forgotten about the expenses, the regrets, the pain, and the barrier of ice surrounding the black hole I called my heart.
Why was I this heartless bastard (so true, but we love him anyway) who deeply hurt the one I care for? Why could I just love her?
Because I don't. Love her, that is. I care for her, as a person, a friend, and companion, heck even my bride, but it would be out of the friendship between us, and friendship was the most rare thing in the Malfoy bloodline.
But love was the rarest. Even if I did love her, Hermione Granger wouldn't love a beast like me? I'm too complicated, she doesn't want that (you wanna bet?).
Stroking her feathered brown locks, and grazing my finger over her ivory cheek, I knew that if I took her as my bride, I would be the happiest man on earth. And that, I wouldn't be alone again. Never again.
The mediwizard of the Irish Isles, Dr. Lillian Keyes, instantly apparated, to the suprise of Elizabeth and I. Keyes was a stout woman, much like Weasley's mother, except for the short raven-colored curls placed on her head.
"What is the problem here, child?" Being from the Irish Isles, she spoke with a fluent accent that rolled sweetly on the tongue. It was rather comforting, but I was no child.
Cutting a long story short, I said. "She was out in the rain. And this was how I found her." As she raised one eyebrow, Keyes gave me a curious look.
"Why was she out in the rain?" Why did she have to ask that?!?
"Look it's none of your business."
"It is my business. She is a patient of mine, and I demand to know what happened. Now if you would be so kind, please tell me the entire story, child." And I did the complete opposite of what I was planning to do, I told my story. And she listened.
"Now, would you please tend to her?" I, Draco Malfoy, was pleading with the most innocent and desperate of faces, and that demon spirit with scowl was never present to snob a person off. Impressing, very impressing.
"Yes, but I need to have a word with you after." Lillian, as I called her, treated the wounded rabbit that fell for the dragon's death trap, and backfired. I was left in the most painful death trap that created myself, having to watch her slip away from me. When tears threatened to fall once again, I blinked and blinked to stop the water flow.
Once Lillian was done, she approached me with a unexplainable expression. I grew scared and weary ever step she walked, every breath I took. The silence was death.
"What's wrong? Is Hermione fine?"
"Yes. Yes, child. Don't need to get your knickers in a twist. Just a mild fever. But I need to talk to you about you and the girl. It is completely obvious you have feeling for her."
"I care for her, if that's what you mean."
"No, something deeper than care. Now tell me, would you die for her? Do anything to keep her alive and happy? Would be lost without seeing her smile to you each day?"
All the answers to her questions was completely obvious. Certainly. I nodded, with caution and curiosity.
"Then don't lose the girl, Draco, dear. You care for her more than you think. I don't want to be the person who tell you what reality is in front of your face, but you need to open those blind eyes before the worst could happen. You could lose her, almost like today. And next time, you won't be as lucky. Please follow your heart, dear. Draco, you are a good man, better than most men I've met in my life. You deserve to live a happy life. Hermione and you deserve to live happy lives. Goodbye, child. Follow your heart, not the hard skull on your head." With a wink, she disapeered.
Staring in bewilderment, the wise words of a wise woman repeated in my head. Did I deserve to live a happy life? What reality was in front of my face? But with all these questions, I came to one fact.
I don't want to lose Hermione.
Chapter Three- To Our Courtship
D.M. POV -
"Good bloody hell. Draco Malfoy, I am going to kill you." She's back. After five desired, but quiet hours, Granger was back from Hogsmeade and going to kill me.
"What's new?" There she appeared at my doorway, looking like a mangled kitten, that is about to eat me. "What did Elle do to you? You look like Goyle and Crabbe used you as toilet paper." Oh, witty.
With a look that could kill, Granger dragged her tired body on my favorite love seat. Must I remind you that it was MY favorite love seat. "Is that a way to treat a girl? I knew you were scum, but I thought you were scum with manners."
"Who said you were a girl?" Then a pillow bombarded me on the head. Ouch. Note to self: Never tease Granger when exhausted, might result in massive head injury or. . .
"Pillow Fight!" I yelled to a startled Granger. Pillows flew, laughter arose, and minutes passed, until we were both exhausted on the floor, back to back. When I turned, I saw the side of Granger I never seen before: a vulnerable, innocent girl named Hermione.
Looking incredibly seducing in a innocent sort of way, the mangled hair, lovely chestnut eyes looking childish, and a loving smile that I only recieved in my dreams, she was a picture of an angel. A very womanly figured cherub.
At the corner of her hair, lay a white swan feather, begging me to take it off. And so I did. "Make a wish." I told her, as I held the feather up to her nose, causing her nose to itch.
"What?" Hermione whispered, confused and with the look in her eyes, frightened. "Make. A. Wish." Closing her eyes, a few seconds passed, as she made her secret wish, probably about Potter. I hate Potter. I don't why I suddenly hate Potter so much all of a sudden. It's because he get's everything: the fame, the popularity, Hermione . . . Hermione?!?
Not the Gryffindor, proud, seducing, intelligent Hermione Granger, Golden Boy's girlfriend, but the Hermione now, the innocent one that seems to be always there to love you.
Humbug. All a bunch of Gryffindor hogwash.
In a husky, low tone, I asked her what was her wish. With a teasing smile, she shook her head slowly. "Nope, I can't tell you what my wish is. It might not come true."
"If you tell me, I can grant your wish for you. You can buy anything with money." She, then, gave a persistant sigh.
"It is one thing that being a rich, spoil brat as yourself never learned. Money can't buy courage, compassion, forgiveness, loyalty, love." At the word "love", the girl lingered a bit on the word, as she was drawn in a distant reverie.
Love. Who needs love when you could have anything you want with money?
"Without love, there would be no life. Without love, the world would be in a heartless war without any end. Don't you see, Draco? Everybody needs love to live a complete life."
How true she was. Hermione Granger always spoke the truth, even with something as unreal as love.
"The world is already in a heartless war without an end. Love isn't real, Granger. It is a lie, a fantasy of many men drove to insanity just because the never experience it. Don't get materialistic and speak such nonsense. It could destroy you." I stood up, and tried to make a break away from this conversation. But Hermione was too fast for the likes of me.
"You just say that because you never thought you could experience love. But you have, even with that icy wall around your heart."
What was she talking about? A Malfoy never experienced love, ever.
"What are babbling about, Granger? I have never cross the other side with those retarded losers and their girlfriends."
"Malfoy! Hello? Love is the thing between you and Elle. Love is the relationship you have with your mother. It doesn't have to be a sexual relationship! Love is the friendship between friends. I could die right now, and be a happy person because I lived a life filled with so much love. When will you understand?"
Leaving me with thoughts unknown, her footstep signaled her departure from my room. I could remember the rythmn, it was times like these I was more aware with my surroundings. Thump, clish. Thump, clish. Thump, clish.
It was my lullaby . . . funny, isn't it? Love is a very funny thing. Or was it delirium?
H.G. POV -
When I left the room, I come to notice my breath was an uneasy rythmn and I was close to breaking in a chain of tears. How did Malfoy drive me to such lengths in tears in mere seconds?
Or was it the ever urging temptation to comfort him like a teddy bear. Malfoy? A teddy bear? True, he had a softer side to the vicious Slytherin prince in our Hogwarts years. But a teddy bear?
Were we friends? Something about the pass weeks destroyed the bond of enemies created during the seven years of our youth, but are we friends?
Will I care for him as my friend? Love him as my heart says when my voice of reason say keep away from the fire or get burnt.
As I supported myself on a corner wall, my fingers barely caressing the fabric of the wallpaper, as if bewitched, my eyes bared wet tears. Then I felt someone brush the tear away. Facing him, I thought to myself if it was worth it.
Like a puff of smoke, he disapeared, realizing the thought was a pigment of my imagination.
Was it worth it to break the ice of a most deadly dragon?
"Draco, I'm there for you. I'll love you as my friend. I will love you. No body deserves to be alone. Not you."
But he never heard. Maybe it wasn't meant to be known. However I'll continuing loving him.
As my friend, as my Slytherin prince.
***
"Rain, rain. Go away, come again some other day." As I sing this childhood relic of a song, I watch the rain drops fall mercilessly on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. On the windowpane, foggy and wet, lay countless smiley faces which I drawn just for the very heck of it.
I was bored! Extremely bored enough to act like that annoying, five year old Hermione Granger I was. Great Merlin, do something about the damn rain.
Then an childish idea happen to pass by in my empty pasture of the green Ireland, or other terms, my head. Grabbing my red, shiny boots and jacket of the same crimson color, my feet dragged me to the outside world of Atlantis found on the grassy lawns of Malfoy Manor.
Splash! Splash! Splash! Any one with a right mind wouldn't be out in the rain, stepping on every muddy puddle. But I didn't have a right mind, at all. Not when I'm bored.
It amazed me to every bit that I'm actually having fun, and started to giggle.
A fine melody of latin music, spicy and sensual, reminding me of the many times I've heard it in my grandmother's humble castle and the many times I danced with Harry Potter, the boy who lived to break my heart. Memories. The tears. Everything. I just wanted to forget.
It came from the west wing of the manor, where I believe Draco's eccentric mother dwells. So she loves this music. Even with the music that scars the past, I still love the heavy rythmn of the dance.
The dance called the tango.
Swaying my hips naturally, I started to dance the solo tango steps I learnt time and time again. In the rain, I imagined at the minute, that I was still in my grandmother's palace, wearing that lovely crimson dress I adored for so long, but never wore. Because I wasn't beautiful enough.
Not even for Harry.
Tears dared to escape my eyes, but were never seen in the mix of rain. It showed in my dancing however. Suddenly in the mists of everything, I felt a lean, muscular warmth pressed against me, and a breath against my cheek.
"Dancing in the rain. Isn't it bit cliche for even you?" Draco. Always that witty one, he is. "Who cares? Beats staying inside nice and warm. Plus it's just a little rain."
I turned around and faced him, his glorious, handsome face in it's usual half smile. My breath went rather rigid, the past days, Draco Malfoy always leaves me bothered and hot.
"Guess you are right. I see that you can dance, but no one beats the master of dance. I am the very best. Let's dance." Tango. His movenments, his steps, the closeness, the heat underneath our damp clothes. This man was a perfectionist in the art of tango and of course, seducing.
D.M. POV -
Damn. A little rain? Does a little rain make the little mist on her long eyelashes look so tempting and innocent. She doesn't know what she's doing to me.
How would I know that when I escaped the paper work of the ministry, my unusual rabbit would be dancing outside like a child? That I would be dancing with her as well?
How could I resist? This beautiful woman was the image of an angel in the rain, looking more gorgeous than all the other blondes, brunettes, and red heads I've seen in my life. Because?
The question appeared in my head like a bolt of lightning scar of Harry Potter's forehead. What a pun. Why did I think that Hermione Granger look extraordinarly lovely today? Even when her confidence in herself was lower than the possibility of me falling in love.
What a frustrating woman! She drives me insane with confusion, and this perfect feeling when Hermione fits safely in my arms. From the top of her chocolatey cascade of hair, the scent of lavender and vanilla fills my senses. I wouldn't mind staying here forever.
As I drew the dance to a flirtatious dip, I gazed into her eyes, those chocolate browns that could addict any man, I'm still wondering why she wasn't claim yet. Hermione Granger was a goddess beyong all goddesses. My gaze traveled south to the ever seducing, kissable lips. Red and full, perfect for kissing. Curious, my finger grazed over those sugary lips that drove me to near insanity and wonder if any other man tasted these gifts from the gods. Coming to the conclusion, I didn't want any other man except me to claim her mine.
She was mine! Closer I came, until our lips slightly touched, tasting not taking, wanting but not tempted to go any further than the gentlest of touch.
But the seduction was too much for me. When was I affected like this. A womanizer like me was never tempted by any other woman, the most beautiful tried but failed. However now, I just couldn't stop now. Not now, not when I was so close.
Like a hawk on his prey, I dove for the kill and it landed me my own doom. I forgot everything. Can a woman actually be gifted the power of taking stress away? A wonder to medical science. At first, only I was reacting to the kiss, tongue touching and everything. Then she, with the shyness of a schoolgirl, attempted to use her cute pink tongue of hers.
I groaned. Hermione Granger tasted wonderful, like chocolate and marshmellows. The perfect thing on a cold rainy night.
"Mmmm. I'm having to use all my self-control to not sweep you off your feet and bring you to my bedroom. And make endless love sessions to a gorgeous angel. Have any one told you that you are the most beautiful woman I've seen in my life?" She looked at me with her eyes, as I sensed a tint of rosy pinkness on her cheeks. An angel. She was my angel. But what was this feeling? Could it be lo- no, it can't. Must be lust.
Perfectly normal for something like lust to happen between a man and a woman. Perfectly normal. (So he says.)
H.G. POV -
How many times have I imagined for a man to utter those words to me? How many countless nights have I read that tall, dark, and handsome hero speak the same phrases to his fair maiden in the love stories borrowed from the library?
When Draco Malfoy told me that I was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, a rush of adrenaline flutter into the pit of my stomach, as I felt a touch of grace befall me. Being in his strong arms, possesively around my petite bodice, I had the urge to cry in happiness.
Then I remembered the betrayal I felt when another man spoke these words so well, however not as romantic as the way Draco makes it. It hurt. It hurt me terribly, and still I bared the scars of the pain.
The words that Draco Malfoy spoke that night after Pansy's slashing confession was made repeated again and again. "I care less if you had a thousand lovers in the past, but for the present, you are mine and no one else."
So he just lusted over me? To contain the emptiness and lust for a woman who he found attractive?!? I knew better than to believe a Malfoy, but suddenly the truth hurts. It was all a lie? I tried to fight the losing battle against my tears, but the waterworks was on a role today.
Why would I be crying? It's just Draco Malfoy! But he wasn't just Draco Malfoy any more, he was different. He was an incredible person, and it hurt to feel rejection. Being the "incredible" person he was, Draco made me forget the pain when Harry left me heartbroken. I owed him at least a "thank you."
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For making me forget the pain I felt when someone left me heartbroken for something better. It almost made me feel special, like I was really beautiful. I mean it's really kind of you to feel guilty enough so you can make me feel like I was wanted. Must be a special gift, making rejects feel needed."
I tried to stifle a laugh to make it sound like a joke, but it only made it seem I was choking on my sobs. And maybe I was.
D.M. POV -
Wrong thing to say, Hermione, wrong thing to say.
She thinks I kissed her because I felt pity and guilt towards her sorry little ass. Impossible. I truely think Hermione Granger is the most wonderful person I met in my life, even if I just lust for her (dumb one, isn't he?).
What angers me the most was that she made me feel guilty at myself. A Malfoy, guilty? But I wasn't my father's son, the man doesn't deserve to be called a father. Neither the less, I was still a Malfoy.
The tears were transparant as they mingled with the rain, but the pained expression in her eyes showed otherwise. Why was she hiding this from me, all the guilt, the pain? I thought we were friends. (People, remember the night when we found out Pansy Park-N-Slut was hurting her, they made a vow to become friends.)
However the anger seemed stronger than the compassion I felt, it nearly blinded me with rage.
"I don't need you to thank me, Granger. I don't need your thanks. You still don't get it, do you? You still haven't got over Potter, so you need to make me feel guilty. What I said was true, every word. But now I think that you really are a sorry reject with no self-confidence. You just want to soak in self-pity. Granger, you are pathetic. It pains me to see such a worthless person who knows nothing about what I think and what you really are. Pathetic, really."
Words. I thought words were just letters stringed together making sentences. But these "words" seemed cruel and undeserving to a person like Hermione. However the guilt and anger was intoxicating my sense to feel compassion, so that the only words I spoke, were ones that weren't true.
Did I care?
I cared like the world, but I just couldn't melt that barrier of ice surrounding my heart for a few laughs, the best kisses, and the first time I was geniunely happy in my life. (Oh, how dumb can our little Dracie get?) For the few times in my life, I cried with the rain as the rain and my tears seemed to fit.
A rainy day for tears.
As my feet carried me away, ignoring the goddess with a past that seem to destroy everything, on the mud-stained grounds of Malfoy Manor, the cowardice dragon turned his back on the very few chances on a lifetime of love with his fragile rabbit who can't seem to forget.
Denial.
***
D.M. POV -
Hours passed, after that unfortunate incident in the rain. My head was in a fuddle, and it seems I couldn't concentrate on anything. I put my papers down in defeat, and sighed. Damn that woman, she always infuriates me even when she's not around.
Hermione Granger, the only woman who could drive me to the near brink of insanity, was stamped in his thoughts ever since she stepped into the manor. In my sleep, during my work, while eating, even when I, how should we say it?, nead to go to the privey (the bathroom, you ninny!).
However I came to the one conclusion that erased all my negative thoughts away, that would cheer me when I think the world might end right there, but I would die a happy man. The angel in the rain made me feel loved.
"Draco! You ninny (can't have enough of the word!)! What did you do to her? I swear, I will kill you if anything happens to Auntie Hermie." What in Merlin's name is my annoying speak of a sister ranting about?
"Can you tell me, in a rational voice, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!" I seem rational, you think?
"Don't tell me you don't know. Hermione has been missing for the past hour, Draco!" The lithe body of the silver-haired girl dropped to the carpet, in sobs. In the palm of her hand, the one she covered her face, was tears. Tears.
"Draco. I'm afraid. I don't want to lose Hermione, ever." In some way, my other angel said in words hidden by sorrow and compassion, that she loved that person in ways I don't know, because I never dared to love anyone.
But did I love Hermione Granger? That should be left simply a mystery.
The thought of losing my chocolate brown-haired angel was painful. Something I could never handle. As if it was an instinct, my feet carried me as fast as it could, searching through the gardens of Malfoy Manor.
Somehow I knew Hermione was out here. Why? Why did I hurt her so much? The pain in my heart couldn't bare the emotions, and tears fell gently on the curves of my face.
"Hermione!"
"Hermione!"
"Hermione!"
I repeated her name over and over again, but the garden was still as tranquil as the night's ocean. When I kept repeating her name, as my weak cry for help, my voice grew hoarse and quite husky.
In the first time in years, my memories journeyed back to the innocent and vulnerable boy of four, desperate for love, only to recieve more pain and scars given by my father. Once again, I became that desperate little boy, but I couldn't let go of the woman I care about the most.
Hermione Granger was special, she was the light of the dark tunnel, and without her I would be lost, never to feel the joy of happiness. I knew I didn't love her, but I cared for her deeply, more than any other person in the world.
I couldn't lose her. Without the smile, the gentle warmth she possess, the gift of loving, her scent, I would die.
Hours flew by, like the never-ending torchure of realizing that you lost that person you care for, it seemed as if all hope and faith was gone from the face of the earth. A blur in the distance caught my attention.
I ran, even if the chances of this being a flower patch, or a forlorn animal, but I couldn't live with the fact that she simply was gone. As the blur came clearer, a smile crept to my face.
Hermione.
As if a fallen angel from nirvana, the sight of her was mesmorising. The silky mane of hair spread like a rich carmel halo, and her lips was still ever promising to taste. I missed this. I missed her. And now I found her, I'm never letting her go.
When I reached her, the tiny hand that belonged to Hermione, was scalding hot. I felt the skin around her, every inch was a raging infernio. She was buring of fever. And the battle was not yet over.
I gathered her extremely light body into my arms, and gazed down upon her, giving her a light, sugary kiss on her lips.
"Just fight it, Hermione. I can't lose you."
"I will, Draco."
After that, she dropped into a state of unconsciousness, with the last of her undenyable charm, a smile. A smile for me. With that little inspiration, I grinned like a happy fool. A very happy fool.
Once we, meaning the unconscious Hermione and I, reached the majestic manor of mayhem, or what my chocolate-haired angel once stated one bright morning, I brought her to the quarantine room.
Elizabeth. The one word that could describe her expression as she watched in front of the door was fear.
"Elle. Quickly, get a sponge and a bowl full of ice cold water. Now!" At my persistant
Heading for my flame-feathered owl, Enigma, I owled the request for the best mediwizard in the entire continent of Europe. As I stared at the opaque complection of the only girl I cared for, and forgotten about the expenses, the regrets, the pain, and the barrier of ice surrounding the black hole I called my heart.
Why was I this heartless bastard (so true, but we love him anyway) who deeply hurt the one I care for? Why could I just love her?
Because I don't. Love her, that is. I care for her, as a person, a friend, and companion, heck even my bride, but it would be out of the friendship between us, and friendship was the most rare thing in the Malfoy bloodline.
But love was the rarest. Even if I did love her, Hermione Granger wouldn't love a beast like me? I'm too complicated, she doesn't want that (you wanna bet?).
Stroking her feathered brown locks, and grazing my finger over her ivory cheek, I knew that if I took her as my bride, I would be the happiest man on earth. And that, I wouldn't be alone again. Never again.
The mediwizard of the Irish Isles, Dr. Lillian Keyes, instantly apparated, to the suprise of Elizabeth and I. Keyes was a stout woman, much like Weasley's mother, except for the short raven-colored curls placed on her head.
"What is the problem here, child?" Being from the Irish Isles, she spoke with a fluent accent that rolled sweetly on the tongue. It was rather comforting, but I was no child.
Cutting a long story short, I said. "She was out in the rain. And this was how I found her." As she raised one eyebrow, Keyes gave me a curious look.
"Why was she out in the rain?" Why did she have to ask that?!?
"Look it's none of your business."
"It is my business. She is a patient of mine, and I demand to know what happened. Now if you would be so kind, please tell me the entire story, child." And I did the complete opposite of what I was planning to do, I told my story. And she listened.
"Now, would you please tend to her?" I, Draco Malfoy, was pleading with the most innocent and desperate of faces, and that demon spirit with scowl was never present to snob a person off. Impressing, very impressing.
"Yes, but I need to have a word with you after." Lillian, as I called her, treated the wounded rabbit that fell for the dragon's death trap, and backfired. I was left in the most painful death trap that created myself, having to watch her slip away from me. When tears threatened to fall once again, I blinked and blinked to stop the water flow.
Once Lillian was done, she approached me with a unexplainable expression. I grew scared and weary ever step she walked, every breath I took. The silence was death.
"What's wrong? Is Hermione fine?"
"Yes. Yes, child. Don't need to get your knickers in a twist. Just a mild fever. But I need to talk to you about you and the girl. It is completely obvious you have feeling for her."
"I care for her, if that's what you mean."
"No, something deeper than care. Now tell me, would you die for her? Do anything to keep her alive and happy? Would be lost without seeing her smile to you each day?"
All the answers to her questions was completely obvious. Certainly. I nodded, with caution and curiosity.
"Then don't lose the girl, Draco, dear. You care for her more than you think. I don't want to be the person who tell you what reality is in front of your face, but you need to open those blind eyes before the worst could happen. You could lose her, almost like today. And next time, you won't be as lucky. Please follow your heart, dear. Draco, you are a good man, better than most men I've met in my life. You deserve to live a happy life. Hermione and you deserve to live happy lives. Goodbye, child. Follow your heart, not the hard skull on your head." With a wink, she disapeered.
Staring in bewilderment, the wise words of a wise woman repeated in my head. Did I deserve to live a happy life? What reality was in front of my face? But with all these questions, I came to one fact.
I don't want to lose Hermione.
