The Passion of a Dragon
By: xKatx
Author's Notes: Wow! You guys like it a lot! lol I don't think I've ever gotten such a big response for one of my stories! :-D keep it coming!
Update on my NEW STORY: At this point, I have about 17 1/2 pages of notes for the story! I have to warn you though--it's definitely a lot more action and a lil less fluff, but don't worry--Hermione and Draco will get their chances to snog in the new one! tee hee hee Anyway, to prove to you guys how serious I am about this next fic, I plan on starting the first chapter as soon as I finish chapter 32--the final chapter--of this story. There's going to be a lot more stuff going on in the new one--we'll peek in every now and then and see what's happening with Harry and Ron and Ginny--the other main characters--and there's a lot of stuff to do with the Order of the Phoenix--and the damn Ministry of Magic pokes their nose in at Hogwarts in the new story! It's titled Substitute for Love--I'll give you guys a summary and a rough-release date ASAP! If you'd like to be a beta, please send me a separate email at xnegrl80xhotmail.com --I need to get to know you before we start on the new story! I would love to have a beta and maybe also a person I can bounce ideas off of or ask for ideas if I hit a dry spot in the storyline. Please email me if you're interested in that too!! ::muah::
Disclaimer: I don't own HP stuff—I'd be in the mountains right now if I did—I own everything you don't recognize.
Characters You Will Meet In This Chapter:
no new characters
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"All right, good," Hermione said after the Chasers completed another exercise that day, "You guys are really getting this!"
The girls beamed with pride as Hermione continued.
"All right, now stand side by side," she instructed.
Riva, Natalie, and Jade did as they were told without question.
Hermione waved her wand and magically tied their legs together.
"What?" Riva questioned, looking at their legs.
"Six legged race," Hermione said with a smile, "You have to use teamwork to move. You need to successfully walk from here to Harry," she said, pointing, "I'll time you from down there. Don't start until I whistle," Hermione said.
She turned and jogged over to where Harry was standing, watching the boys flying around.
Hermione looked at the Muggle stopwatch she'd brought before whistling shrilly.
Harry flinched, "Nice lungs, 'Mione, but I'd like my hearing for another forty or fifty years."
She made a face before bumping him with her shoulder teasingly. They watched as the three girls struggled to make their way across the Quidditch pitch.
Hermione continued watching with a smile and a sharp eye, but didn't notice Blaise coming down to the pitch. She'd been on good terms with Blaise since she and Draco had become an item, so she wasn't bothered when he came up beside her.
"Hermione, can I talk to you?" He questioned, his face serious and grave.
Harry's eyes darted to him, and he knew something was wrong. Hermione looked at Harry, who nodded, "Go ahead," he assured her.
She nodded, allowing Blaise to take her arm and lead her a ways away from Harry.
"Blaise, what is it?" She questioned, her eyes alert at his mournful demeanor.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, "Draco's leaving."
"Why?" She questioned, her eyes wide at hearing of her beau's impending departure.
Blaise put a hand on the back of his neck and raised unhappy eyes to hers, "Hermione, his dad is dead."
Hermione's eyes went wide and she felt the uncomfortable sting of tears creeping into her eyes, "You're kidding!"
Blaise shook his head, "He was attacked along with some of the people he'd brought with him. From what we've heard, it was some Egyptian thieves... they Avada Kedavra'ed him. Draco's got to go to the Manor to help his mother and attend the funeral."
Hermione's hand went to her mouth. She was speechless—she knew before Draco and his father hadn't been very close, but now...
"Wait here for me," she told him. He nodded as she walked back to Harry.
"What is it?" He asked, seeing the tears in Hermione's eyes.
"M-m..." she cleared her throat, trying desperately to speak.
"Hermione?" Harry asked, putting his hands on her shoulders to steady her, "Take a deep breath—what happened?"
She did as he instructed before spitting out, "Malfoy's dad is dead."
Harry's eyebrows shot up, "Are you sure?"
She nodded, "Blaise told me," she gripped Harry's forearms, "Harry, I have to go to Draco—I have to...—"
Harry rubbed her upper arms, "Yes, yes, go ahead. I'll take care of the girls."
Hermione smiled weakly, "Thank you—thank you, Harry!"
He pulled her into a hug, "Go to him, 'Mione."
She smiled, and nodded, leaving Harry's arms and moving back to Blaise, who walked with her back up to the castle.
"Where is he, Blaise?" She asked as they entered the Entrance Hall.
"I left to get you while he was with Dumbledore," Blaise said, "I'm guessing he's back in the Heads Dorm."
She nodded, "All right."
"I'm going to go see Snape and inform him," Blaise said, bidding goodbye and heading toward the dungeons.
Hermione pulled off her leather jacket and straightened her black turtleneck sweater. She draped the jacket over her arm, the material flapping against her jeaned thigh.
The only noise resonating through the corridor was the sound of her Nikes hitting the ground with each step.
She ran a hand through her wavy brown hair as she faced Elvira's portrait.
"How is he, Miss Elvira?"
Elvira looked at her mournfully, "Not very good, my dear."
Hermione nodded sadly, "Infinigus," she said, and the portrait swung open.
"Good luck, Miss Hermione," Elvira said.
"Thank you, Miss Elvira."
Hermione entered the common room and saw it deserted. She, however, saw movement behind his door.
She dropped her jacket on the couch and made her way to the door.
She opened quietly and saw him putting clothes into his trunk. His expression was unreadable; his mouth was set in a line and his eyes focused on his bureau and then his trunk.
"Dray?" She said, announcing her presence.
He looked up only for a moment before continuing to pack, "I suppose Blaise ran and got you," he spat bitterly.
His tone of voice shocked her.
"He told me what happened, yes," she admitted, shutting the door behind her.
Draco furiously continued to pack, "Everyone thinks I can't handle this on my own—bloody Dumbledore, offering to accompany me—"
"He's only worrying about you—"
"—I DON'T NEED SOME OLD MAN'S PITY!" Draco yelled, stopping and staring at her, "AND I SURE AS HELL DON'T NEED YOURS!"
Hermione's eyes flared slightly, "I came up here because I was concerned—I wanted to be here for you—"
"I don't need you to tell me everything's going to be okay," he spat.
Hermione's anger began to grow, "Let me help you," she said, not moving—instead, waiting for his reply. He, however, slammed the empty bureau drawer shut.
"I DON'T NEED ANY HELP, GRANGER!" He snarled, referring to her by her surname.
Her eyes shined with tears, but they did not fall, "Draco, I know you're upset—"
"Stop acting as if you understand me," he said coldly, shoving more items into his trunk.
She felt anger burn in her chest, "That's how you deal," she said plainly, " Isn't it? Pushing people who care about you away."
"I SAID STOP ACTING LIKE YOU UNDERSTAND ME!"
"I'M NOT ACTING LIKE I UNDERSTAND YOU!"
"SURE, JUST LIKE YOU'RE NOT PITYING ME, RIGHT?"
"THAT'S RIGHT! I DON'T PITY YOU, I CARE!"
"I DON'T NEED A FILTHY MUDBLOOD TO CARE ABOUT ME!"
Her eyes went wide at his final statement, the tears that threatened to fall doing just that.
"You son of a bitch!" She cried, attempting to hit him, but he caught her wrists, "I heard about what happened and I couldn't even speak because I couldn't bear to think of you in such pain! In that moment I wanted it to be my father who died, just so you wouldn't have to deal with that heartache! I was willing to do that for YOU! YOU ARROGANT POMPOUS PRAT!" She continued to try and hit him, "AND ALL YOU CAN DO IS REGRESS BACK TO YOUR USUAL TERMS OF ADDRESSING ME, WHEN ALL I'VE DONE FOR THE PAST FOUR MONTHS IS LOVE YOU!"
She paused in her attempt to harm him when his grip grew stronger, his large, powerful hands holding her wrists.
His eyes glared into hers, "What did you just say?" He asked, his voice becoming emotionless for a moment.
Her tearstreaked face looked to the ground for a moment before looking back into the face she adored, "I said I love you, Draco."
For a moment, his expression was unreadable. She loved him. She loved HIM! Draco Trysten Malfoy, the man that could never be loved by anyone! She couldn't love him.
"You love me?" He questioned.
She paused before nodding, feeling all of her energy drain into the floor.
He let go of her wrists, turning angrily to face his window. She loved him... someone besides his mother loved him. It was hard for him to comprehend, but he knew he loved Hermione too. He loved her, and yet he'd just hurt her with his words of anger and hate. All she wanted to do was be there for him through this, and he was pushing her away. He loved her—the concept was very new to him. But it was a welcomed sort of new. He felt his anger towards her melt away, and his pain and heartache come to the surface.
He knew she was still behind him, probably staring at the floor, her arms crossed in front of her.
He turned around and found that she was standing just as he'd guessed. Had it been a different time and place, this would have brought a smile or at least a smirk to his face.
She looked up as he moved back over to her. There was a moment in which neither could decide what to do. They stood about five inches apart, and the uncertainty was thick between them. Should they apologize? Should she leave? Neither of the two knew what they should do.
In one moment, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself into his embrace. His arms wrapped around her slim waist protectively, holding her firmly against him. She lay her head on his shoulder, gripping him in a way that made him think of someone protecting something they valued more than their own life. At that moment, he felt an immense wave of...something wash through him, and he felt at that moment that he could trust her. She was holding him as if she never wanted to let go.
She pulled back, looking into his eyes, "I'm sorry," she apologized, her hands on his face, "Draco, I'm so sorry," she said, new tears forming in her eyes.
"Why are you apologizing?" He asked her, his deep baritone voice resonating in her ears, "I should be the one to apologize."
"Draco, I understand—"
"No," he said, his hands rubbing her forearms, "No... Hermione, I'm sorry—I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
She let her thumb caress his cheek, "I know—I know how you deal with things like this. But it's just me you can trust me. You don't have to pretend. I know what happened, and you have to mourn, Dray."
He looked at her and nodded, letting his walls break a little bit, "Can you do something for me?" He questioned.
She looked into his eyes, "Anything," she replied.
He took a deep breath, putting his forehead against hers, her hands falling to his biceps, "Will you...will you say it to me?"
"Say what?" She asked, a puzzled look on her face.
"Tell me that...my dad.." he trailed off, closing his eyes for a moment.
She put her arms back around his neck, holding him close to her, forming a protective shield around him, keeping him from the world. She was protecting him as he caved, showing her the true person inside—not the façade he showed everyone else.
She kept her forehead against his, both of them wanting to be as close as possible, "Draco," she said, her voice quiet and soft, her warm breath hitting his cheek, "Your dad is gone."
Now, Hermione wasn't quite sure if it was relief she saw on his face, or grief, but she knew his features pulled together, and it looked like he was fighting off tears.
"Draco, listen to me," she said, putting her hands on his face and pulling his gaze to meet hers, "You don't have to be tough, Draco. If you need to cry, let it out—everyone cries. It's only me; you don't have to hide from me," she said, tears evident in her voice, "I don't want you to hide from me."
His shoulders shook, and she knew he was sobbing. She pulled him into a hug, his head laying on his shoulder. She felt like the most important person in the world. She was sure no one short of Narcissa Black Malfoy had seen this man cry; but now she was.
His arms were tight around her waist as he mourned; he mourned for the loss of his idol—the one man he'd always looked up to. He was being thrust into the world of adulthood—he needed to look up to himself now. Sure, when his father and he had been under the influence of Voldemort, Draco hadn't had much respect for his father, but once the old, original Lucius Malfoy had returned, Draco began to feel the parental guidance and love come from his father that he hadn't felt since Voldemort took control of their family. They had become a family again, and now his father was gone.
He felt her hand rubbing his back, showing with every little touch that she was there for him; not judging, not poking fun—she was still there, still holding him as he broke down. It was very un-Malfoy like for him to do this; to cave and let her see him cry. But he trusted her, and he knew she would actually think less of him if he didn't stop pretending that it didn't bother him.
They stood there for some time, Hermione holding the man she loved so tightly she didn't think she could hold him any tighter. She tried with every touch and every embrace to show him she was there for him to hold on to as he fell.
It took another couple of minutes, but he eventually lifted his head off of her shoulder and looked at her. His skin was still pearly, but his eyes were a little red, offsetting the gray.
Her eyes widened, and he looked at her strangely.
"I'm sorry," she said, putting her hands on his biceps.
"What is it?" He asked, looking slightly offended.
She gave him a smile, "Nothing," she assured him, " It's just... you have to be the most handsome man I've ever seen," she said softly, blushing a little at her sappiness.
His face relaxed into a small smile as he pulled her into his arms, "Thank you," he whispered in her ear.
She smiled, pulling her face around to press a gentle kiss to his lips, "You're welcome," she replied against his lips.
His hands pulled her close up to him, his tongue requesting entrance into her mouth, which she readily complied to. They continued to kiss, their bodies saying words that they couldn't. He didn't want to pull away, but he knew he had to—both of them needed oxygen.
He pulled away, looking at her for a long time before she spoke, "Let me prove to you that I love you," she whispered.
He smiled, agreeing with a simple kiss.
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Hermione awoke a while later, laying in nothing but her undershirt, her head resting on his beautifully sculpted chest, her brown sugar and honey colored hair sprawled around her face. She silently thought of the events of that night, and how much she hoped he would make it through the funeral.
She looked up to find him watching her intently, his gray eyes never moving from hers.
"How long have you been up?" She asked, scooting up so her head lay on his shoulder, his chin resting on her head.
"I don't know," he said, fingering the curly locks of her hair.
She lay there, looking onto his god-like, masculine face, taking in every minute detail. She knew if this ended after they left Hogwarts, she'd hold him in a special place in her heart until the day she died.
He continued to watch her, still amazed at her beauty. She was his goddess; his beauty; his lover; his.. friend.
"I love you," he said quietly, his baritone voice sending shivers down her spine.
She smiled contentedly at him, "I love you too," she replied, pressing a kiss to his lips.
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"I'll see you when you get back," she told him, holding him tightly in a hug as he stood outside the school, preparing to climb into an enchanted carriage.
He hugged her back, pressing a kiss to her lips, "I know," he said.
She pulled back before remembering something.
"I have something I want you to have," she said, reaching into her sweatshirt pocket.
He turned back from handing his bags to the coachman, "What is it?" He questioned, looking into her eyes.
She opened her palm and showed him a silver chain with engravings on the links.
"What does it say?" He questioned.
She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck, clasping the necklace together, "In French, it says 'To the beloved and blessed.' My grandmother gave it to me; it's been in our family for years. It's tradition to pass it on to the person you love. My mother gave it to me before first year," she paused, looking back into his eyes, "I want you to have it."
He smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips, "I love you, 'Mione."
She nodded, "I love you too, Dray."
He pulled her into one last hug, holding her tightly, "You can do this," she whispered encouragingly.
He smiled again before giving her one last look and climbing into the carriage.
Hermione watched until the carriage was no longer visible before turning back to the castle stairs.
Draco sat in the carriage, unconsciously fiddling with the buttons on the cuffs of his Oxford shirt. He had a bad feeling; and the feelings were unnatural, despite the fact that he was off to his father's funeral. He had a feeling something was going to happen; he just wasn't sure what.