Disclaimer: All characters presented in the fic are the property of
J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion
Author's Note: Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.
Special Thanks: Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.
Chapter Four - Growing Bonds
The rest of the holidays went by fairly swiftly for the two Gryffindors, while, for Draco, they dragged on in slow motion as the inevitable neared. Now that Madam Pomfrey had seen him awake and interacting with Potter, he knew it was only a matter of time before he had to face the rest of the school.
Weasley had returned early upon hearing the news that the 'boy wonder' had, yet again, miraculously survived another encounter with Voldemort; the final encounter.
Surprisingly enough, Draco found that, despite the hesitation he felt towards the hospital wing opening to others besides him and the two Gryffindors, Weasley was welcome company. He had developed an unspoken sense of gratitude and admiration towards Granger. After all, she had been the first kind face he had seen after months of abuse. Potter and he had reached an unspoken truce as the young Gryffindor had, essentially, agreed to put the past behind them and take him for where he was today.
Weasley- well he was an altogether different story. Ronald Weasley was a textbook case of a one-track mind. Hermione and Harry had tried to subdue him the first time he entered the hospital wing, asking him to 'let sleeping dragons lie.' But, true to every suspicion Draco had ever had of the boy, he could not conceive of the thought that even Draco Malfoy was capable of change.
Honestly, Draco didn't blame him. He certainly didn't feel as if he'd gone through some great epiphany, unless you included the one about his bastard of a father. No, he still held on to the same ideals that he'd always clung to; the superiority of the old pureblood families and the maintaining of Wizarding tradition. Yes, he had accepted that Hermione Granger was an exceptional witch, one that he was now bound to through a wizard's debt. But one exception did not make a rule.
Despite his personal understanding for Weasley's unrelenting position, it would be less than Slytherin for Draco to pass up the opportunity to take advantage of the housemates' disagreement.
"Harry, Mione', you can't be serious. Look, I don't care what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named put him through. It's Malfoy; I don't doubt but that he deserved it."
Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry turned to face his best friend. "Come off it Ron," he said. "Voldemort is dead. Voldemort is not coming back; I nearly killed myself to ensure that the world was free from Voldemort for good this time," he finished, nearly yelling at the absurdity of someone still refusing to say the fallen wizard's name. "And you are right, this is Malfoy. Malfoy is still Slytherin, conniving, sneaky, and a git. What he went through changed none of that. But, he did see, first-hand the intricate web of deception that Voldemort cast in recruiting his followers."
"But Harry…" Ron started again, his voice nearly a whine.
"For Merlin's sake, Ron," Hermione said, unable to contain her frustration any longer. "Malfoy is a prat, that fact is well established. Harry, here, has a hero complex; your obsession with Quidditch borders on a mental disorder; and I, in the words of our dear Potions Master, am an insufferable know-it-all. We're not asking you to propose to Malfoy."
"If you did, I'm afraid I would have to decline," Draco drawled, unable to resist participating any longer. "I've never been one to go for the tall, thick, and clueless sort."
Harry and Hermione, having grown accustomed to Draco's sarcasm over the holidays, tried to stifle their laughs, but Ron was clearly less than amused.
"I don't know what you've done to… to…"
"I can understand your disappointment Weasley. Being passed over for Granger…"
Harry laughed aloud at that statement as Ron continued to redden, his fists clenched as if ready for a fight.
"Malfoy, that's quite enough," Hermione snapped, shooting him a look that showed that she was clearly not amused.
"You see 'Mione, he hasn't changed, even you can see that…"
"Oh, do shut up, Ron, can't you see he's just winding you up," she cut him off, rubbing the temples of her head. She would be glad when Harry returned to Gryffindor tower because trying to play referee between Ron and Draco would undoubtedly prove to be maddening.
The next few days were fairly uneventful, as Harry received permission from Madam Pomfrey to spend time outside of the hospital wing, so long as he promised to check back in every few hours so that she could continue to monitor his condition. Hermione offered no protest when the Matron requested that she continue to spend the majority of her time with Malfoy.
Apparently, Snape was becoming more insistent on seeing the boy and Madam Pomfrey honestly did not see any reason that a meeting should be delayed any further, now that Harry and Ron had both been able to spend extended periods of time in his company without issue.
Hermione agreed that she thought there would be little consequence in a meeting taking place, other than an understandable hesitancy to cope with reality outside the hospital wing, and promised to report back as soon as her suspicions were confirmed or denied.
Her conversation with Draco about speaking with his Head of House and returning to his quarters had been very brief. She was initially surprised to see that he had apparently thought about, and considered, the likelihood that his days in isolation were drawing to an end. When she asked him how he felt about it, his only response had been, "I don't see how my feelings are relevant. We both know that I can't remain here forever."
Snape had met with Malfoy to discuss his reentry into life within the school. When he met with Madam Pomfrey and Hermione later to discuss his observations, the two witches had been quite appalled to find that he had used his skills as a Legilimens to get a better idea of what Draco had suffered. He had refused to discuss the details with Hermione present, but had assured her that Draco's swift recovery, both physical and mental, was nothing short of miraculous.
With the start of the spring term, the Seventh Years found three students that had been missing for the majority of the first term rejoining them in classes. Draco, as Head Boy, returned to his dormitory, everyone involved thankful for that luxury which prevented him from having to either abandon his house or risk further retribution from those that still deemed him a traitor. It soon became evident that few Slytherins thought it mere coincidence that his return immediately followed the defeat of Voldemort and none considered that his absence was due to abduction by said villain.
Draco, as expected, passed all of the qualifying exams allowing him to complete the seventh year with his class with no trouble. Harry was permitted to defer taking the first round of exams as he had missed significantly less schoolwork.
After about the first week of the new term, all involved had fallen back into much the same routine as they had begun the school year with. Ron and Draco still faced off at every opportunity with Harry or Hermione pulling their friend back as Draco finished the confrontation, typically pointing out the Weasleys' poverty.
Both Gryffindors had tried to convince Ron that he was simply perpetuating the situation by responding to Draco, but of course, he would not listen. Even further complicating the matter was that, with the defeat of Voldemort, Harry had appeared to lighten up considerably, being much more prone to outbursts of laughter. Unfortunately, these outbursts did not exclude Draco's wittier digs against his best friend.
Hermione had left the Head Boy in their common room with his studies, fully intent on retiring to her room with her journal. She fully intended to take the frustrations she had regarding Malfoy and Ron out on paper with her quill, since talking to her friend obviously had little effect. As she sat on her bed and crossed her legs, carefully inking the quill before bringing it up to the journal, the thoughts that had moments ago seemed so urgent to put to paper left her head.
Deciding to employ a tactic that she had learned years ago in her Muggle education for creative writing, Hermione simply allowed her mind to wander and the quill to move. After no more than a few minutes, she put her quill down and cast a cleansing spell to remove the ink splatters that had gotten on the bed. As she read the words, Hermione was confronted with the feelings that had become more prevalent with each passing day since Malfoy had woken.
Why do I feel this bond between he and I? I can understand his comfort around me. I was his rescuer; that is a wizard's debt. It is ancient magic, unfailing and perfectly reasonable. But why do I, the one who he is indebted to, feel my own obligation; that of his protector. Even as I sit here and write this, I do so ignoring the compulsion that calls me to watch over him.
Hermione tore the pages out of the journal, setting them in the vessel that was reserved for her most intimate thoughts. Touching the tip of her wand to the torn pages and incanting 'Incendio', Hermione affirmed her determination to accept the truth as it rose with the smoke, while doubt and worry turned to ashes. As the last of the flames died out, Hermione added the ashes to her container before retrieving her Arithmancy book and supplies and returning to the common room.
True to her word, Hermione decided to trust her instincts, which had rarely failed her before, refusing to question the reason behind her sense of obligation towards Malfoy. Their evenings were spent generally in companionable silence, interrupted by the occasional debate regarding their coursework.
Hermione found that, now that she no longer bothered with the why's of their relationship, she rather enjoyed it. She had always enjoyed companionship during study but had grown weary of the invariable battles that would ensue when working with Ron and Harry.
Malfoy's discipline was similar to hers, though it was rare to see him poring over his studies all evening. He tended to study and complete his assignments as would be expected of a diligent student, quick to point out when Hermione had exceeded the requirements for an essay, before pulling out a book to read.
It was on one of those evenings when Hermione was well into her third foot of parchment for an Arithmancy essay that only required two that Draco decided to break their accustomed silent companionship.
"In the name of Merlin, how is it that we've been working on the same essay, yet I've finished mine over an hour ago? Sitting here listening to your quill scratching against the parchment is becoming nearly as unbearable as potting mandrakes."
Hermione, her nerves already on edge as she contemplated the amount of material she would need to cover in the month left before the N.E.W.T.'s, slammed the quill down on the parchment, a bit of ink splattering onto her cheek.
"You know, Malfoy, not all of us were bequeathed enough Galleons to live off of for ten lifetimes. I'm so sorry if the fact that I intend to leave Hogwarts ready for whatever life has to throw at me is disturbing to you. Perhaps it is best if I retire to my rooms."
"Suit yourself, Granger," Draco drawled nonchalantly.
As Hermione exhaled loudly in exasperation and gathered her things, he picked his book back up and returned to the page he had been reading. Not until he heard the door to her room slam, echoed by what sounded like something heavy being tossed against the wall, did he let his head fall back in frustration.
He really hadn't meant to get her so riled up. He had honestly thought that the off-handed comment was perfectly allowable as both she and Potter had behaved very rationally, not expecting him to transform into something that went against the very fiber of his being. It wasn't as if that were the worst comment she had heard him make, yet this was the first time she'd snapped at him. Perhaps, whatever it was that was drawing the two of them together, was affecting her as much as it was him.
Snapping out of his thoughts as he heard her storm down the stairs, he watched her as she left; the feeling of emptiness he had been trying to ignore whenever they parted company came over him again. He settled back and tried to bury that feeling yet again but knew that it would not happen when he realized he had spent the past minute trying to read a single sentence.
Resigning himself to the fact that it was time for them to discuss, or at the very least acknowledge, the strange bond that they seemed to have formed over the past few months, Draco returned his book to his dormitory and left the Heads' quarters. Bypassing the library, Draco headed to the rear staircase located off of the main hall before making his way up the stairs.
Hermione had tried to continue the essay she had been writing upon returning to her room, but was unable to concentrate. Every time she began a task, she would feel that same draw, making her feel obligated to be with him, to comfort him. Despite the sarcasm and smirk that he had reclaimed, she knew that he was still haunted. Hermione had fled to the Astronomy Tower, not wanting to run into any other students or be easily found.
She opened the book that she had brought with her. Not the Arithmancy text needed to complete the essay that had become the point of their contention, no, she had brought her beloved journal; her emotional waste basket, the only tool that had proven effective of exhausting all of the emotional and mental anguish from her system so that she could function.
Absently running the fine feathers of the quill across her jaw, Hermione tried to mentally separate the strands of thought to isolate those that had her in such turmoil. Ever since he had rejoined the schools population, since he and Harry had formed their eerie, comfortable camaraderie, her entire sense of balance had been thrown.
Whenever she looked into those eyes that called to her from across the room, the Great Hall, even through the doors to her private quarters, she could see the humility that had surfaced in him. It was true that, despite his hurt and subsequent healing, he had managed to reclaim that air of confidence that deemed him worthy of Slytherin house, yet, he had been freed of the burden of the arrogance that had made him the bane of her existence for six years. Alone with her thoughts and journal, she could not deny that she now found his assuredness appealing, where it had once been appalling.
Hermione sighed as she hugged the journal close to her chest, jumping as a clap of thunder sounded in the distance. She found the oncoming storm comforting, as if the gods that controlled such things were joining her in her inner turmoil. She gazed up hazily as the storm clouds rolled in, her body straightening as a familiar chill and urgency come over her. Turning slowly, she was not shocked to see Draco standing at the apex of the stairwell.
"You're not the only one who feels it," he offered slowly, as he crossed the room to sit down next to her, his hands folded awkwardly in his lap.
Draco had felt the bond that was growing between them since he first awoke in the hospital wing, something inside of him breaking at the sight of her in tears over Harry's bed.
He hadn't wanted to admit that he wanted her by his side but it was becoming harder and harder to deny. Even as he had lain silent, he had found that when he desired her gaze strongly enough to see the depths of emotion her eyes could offer, he could will her to look at him.
Hermione closed the book carefully, looking up into his eyes, not bothering to clear herself of the tears that had formed.
"What is it?"
Draco paused. He couldn't answer that question; not completely, not yet. He hadn't even eliminated all of the possibilities. Of course, he had his suspicions, his fears. They had surfaced while he was in captivity. Malfoy lore, told at family gatherings, came to mind as he tried to will himself the blessed escape into death. But he was so young. No one under the age of seventy had been affected in twenty generations. No, he couldn't answer that question yet. He would need more time. Having no verbal answer to her query, Draco took her hand in his. Looking into her eyes he raised her hand to his cheek, turning slightly to kiss the inside of her palm.
With that single act, Hermione felt the dam that she had so carefully constructed to ward off the emotions, give way to months of cracks and dents. Burying her head against his shoulder, Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist and decided that she would worry about what had drawn the two together tomorrow.
They sat that way, in the silence that had become comfortable for the two, for a long while. Unwilling to move lest they dislodge the blanket of content that had settled around them, they simply sat; the beats of their hearts regulating to the tempo of the rainfall outside; the rise and fall of their chests lulling them both towards slumber.
"Draco," Hermione spoke timidly, looking up into his face, unable to read his expression.
He winced at the sound of his name. It was an unreasonable request, but he felt as if he would be perfectly content to simply be near her like this, no words exchanged, just being. And so he didn't respond, save raising his hand to the back of her head to lay it back against his chest. 'Just a little while longer,' he thought, hoping whatever bond they held was strong enough to convey the desire.
Hermione sighed. Her legs and backside were aching. Deciding to give him a few more minutes, as it was clear that he did not wish to leave yet, she nestled her head against his chest, raising her hand to move the curls, which had slipped into her mouth.
Review Responses:
Katie: I hope that you've enjoyed the update and am glad to see that you are following the story. Hopefully you enjoy the end of this chapter, I wrote it initially for a challenge on the quietones yahoo group while writing earliar parts of this story and managed to work it in rather nicely. Look forward to hearing your feelings on the update!
Jenie: Wow, I'm so glad that you're enjoying the fic. You know fanfiction dot net gets a bad rep in some circles, but I must say the readers here seem to review more! One of the comments I've gotten in other fics was to try and be more descriptive. It's not exactly my nature, I tend to not notice a lot of things, even in real life, but I'm working on it. When writing about his parents' effects I was trying to do that, glad that it did not go unnoticed :)
SiriuslyPadfoot'sGal: Alas, I am sorry to inform you that my response will not be entirely positive. I do not take well to other's claiming my men, and Sirius is mine, SIRIUSLY :) hehehehe, j/k but I couldn't resist as I have definitely tried to claim him as my own. I'm really glad that you're enjoying the fic thus far. I had written most of what you've read so far before acquiring a beta and simply corrected inconsistencies and grammatical errors as I was under a tight deadline when writing it. But I do believe that from her input into my writing it improves throughout until the end. Here's your update, I hope you enjoy!
Runaway mental patient: Brilliant blush. adjusts glasses to read user name Oh wait, can I take that as a valid opinion from a mental patient? Hey, I'll take what I can get. I hope you enjoy!!!
TheManWhoLetTheBoyLive: giggles I'm going to take that as a positive response. Here's your update, thanks for commenting!
Artemis1860: I caught the plug and I will try and make my way over to check out your fic, it's posted here right? The change in Draco I'm hoping will be distinctive but not drastic or overnight. One of my biggest problems with this ship is the sudden 180's people have Draco doing, actually this ship and D/G. In anycase as I said, I am going to try and check out Happy Ending, although I have a SS/HG wreaking havoc with my brain right now!
Author's Note: Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.
Special Thanks: Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.
Chapter Four - Growing Bonds
The rest of the holidays went by fairly swiftly for the two Gryffindors, while, for Draco, they dragged on in slow motion as the inevitable neared. Now that Madam Pomfrey had seen him awake and interacting with Potter, he knew it was only a matter of time before he had to face the rest of the school.
Weasley had returned early upon hearing the news that the 'boy wonder' had, yet again, miraculously survived another encounter with Voldemort; the final encounter.
Surprisingly enough, Draco found that, despite the hesitation he felt towards the hospital wing opening to others besides him and the two Gryffindors, Weasley was welcome company. He had developed an unspoken sense of gratitude and admiration towards Granger. After all, she had been the first kind face he had seen after months of abuse. Potter and he had reached an unspoken truce as the young Gryffindor had, essentially, agreed to put the past behind them and take him for where he was today.
Weasley- well he was an altogether different story. Ronald Weasley was a textbook case of a one-track mind. Hermione and Harry had tried to subdue him the first time he entered the hospital wing, asking him to 'let sleeping dragons lie.' But, true to every suspicion Draco had ever had of the boy, he could not conceive of the thought that even Draco Malfoy was capable of change.
Honestly, Draco didn't blame him. He certainly didn't feel as if he'd gone through some great epiphany, unless you included the one about his bastard of a father. No, he still held on to the same ideals that he'd always clung to; the superiority of the old pureblood families and the maintaining of Wizarding tradition. Yes, he had accepted that Hermione Granger was an exceptional witch, one that he was now bound to through a wizard's debt. But one exception did not make a rule.
Despite his personal understanding for Weasley's unrelenting position, it would be less than Slytherin for Draco to pass up the opportunity to take advantage of the housemates' disagreement.
"Harry, Mione', you can't be serious. Look, I don't care what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named put him through. It's Malfoy; I don't doubt but that he deserved it."
Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry turned to face his best friend. "Come off it Ron," he said. "Voldemort is dead. Voldemort is not coming back; I nearly killed myself to ensure that the world was free from Voldemort for good this time," he finished, nearly yelling at the absurdity of someone still refusing to say the fallen wizard's name. "And you are right, this is Malfoy. Malfoy is still Slytherin, conniving, sneaky, and a git. What he went through changed none of that. But, he did see, first-hand the intricate web of deception that Voldemort cast in recruiting his followers."
"But Harry…" Ron started again, his voice nearly a whine.
"For Merlin's sake, Ron," Hermione said, unable to contain her frustration any longer. "Malfoy is a prat, that fact is well established. Harry, here, has a hero complex; your obsession with Quidditch borders on a mental disorder; and I, in the words of our dear Potions Master, am an insufferable know-it-all. We're not asking you to propose to Malfoy."
"If you did, I'm afraid I would have to decline," Draco drawled, unable to resist participating any longer. "I've never been one to go for the tall, thick, and clueless sort."
Harry and Hermione, having grown accustomed to Draco's sarcasm over the holidays, tried to stifle their laughs, but Ron was clearly less than amused.
"I don't know what you've done to… to…"
"I can understand your disappointment Weasley. Being passed over for Granger…"
Harry laughed aloud at that statement as Ron continued to redden, his fists clenched as if ready for a fight.
"Malfoy, that's quite enough," Hermione snapped, shooting him a look that showed that she was clearly not amused.
"You see 'Mione, he hasn't changed, even you can see that…"
"Oh, do shut up, Ron, can't you see he's just winding you up," she cut him off, rubbing the temples of her head. She would be glad when Harry returned to Gryffindor tower because trying to play referee between Ron and Draco would undoubtedly prove to be maddening.
The next few days were fairly uneventful, as Harry received permission from Madam Pomfrey to spend time outside of the hospital wing, so long as he promised to check back in every few hours so that she could continue to monitor his condition. Hermione offered no protest when the Matron requested that she continue to spend the majority of her time with Malfoy.
Apparently, Snape was becoming more insistent on seeing the boy and Madam Pomfrey honestly did not see any reason that a meeting should be delayed any further, now that Harry and Ron had both been able to spend extended periods of time in his company without issue.
Hermione agreed that she thought there would be little consequence in a meeting taking place, other than an understandable hesitancy to cope with reality outside the hospital wing, and promised to report back as soon as her suspicions were confirmed or denied.
Her conversation with Draco about speaking with his Head of House and returning to his quarters had been very brief. She was initially surprised to see that he had apparently thought about, and considered, the likelihood that his days in isolation were drawing to an end. When she asked him how he felt about it, his only response had been, "I don't see how my feelings are relevant. We both know that I can't remain here forever."
Snape had met with Malfoy to discuss his reentry into life within the school. When he met with Madam Pomfrey and Hermione later to discuss his observations, the two witches had been quite appalled to find that he had used his skills as a Legilimens to get a better idea of what Draco had suffered. He had refused to discuss the details with Hermione present, but had assured her that Draco's swift recovery, both physical and mental, was nothing short of miraculous.
With the start of the spring term, the Seventh Years found three students that had been missing for the majority of the first term rejoining them in classes. Draco, as Head Boy, returned to his dormitory, everyone involved thankful for that luxury which prevented him from having to either abandon his house or risk further retribution from those that still deemed him a traitor. It soon became evident that few Slytherins thought it mere coincidence that his return immediately followed the defeat of Voldemort and none considered that his absence was due to abduction by said villain.
Draco, as expected, passed all of the qualifying exams allowing him to complete the seventh year with his class with no trouble. Harry was permitted to defer taking the first round of exams as he had missed significantly less schoolwork.
After about the first week of the new term, all involved had fallen back into much the same routine as they had begun the school year with. Ron and Draco still faced off at every opportunity with Harry or Hermione pulling their friend back as Draco finished the confrontation, typically pointing out the Weasleys' poverty.
Both Gryffindors had tried to convince Ron that he was simply perpetuating the situation by responding to Draco, but of course, he would not listen. Even further complicating the matter was that, with the defeat of Voldemort, Harry had appeared to lighten up considerably, being much more prone to outbursts of laughter. Unfortunately, these outbursts did not exclude Draco's wittier digs against his best friend.
Hermione had left the Head Boy in their common room with his studies, fully intent on retiring to her room with her journal. She fully intended to take the frustrations she had regarding Malfoy and Ron out on paper with her quill, since talking to her friend obviously had little effect. As she sat on her bed and crossed her legs, carefully inking the quill before bringing it up to the journal, the thoughts that had moments ago seemed so urgent to put to paper left her head.
Deciding to employ a tactic that she had learned years ago in her Muggle education for creative writing, Hermione simply allowed her mind to wander and the quill to move. After no more than a few minutes, she put her quill down and cast a cleansing spell to remove the ink splatters that had gotten on the bed. As she read the words, Hermione was confronted with the feelings that had become more prevalent with each passing day since Malfoy had woken.
Why do I feel this bond between he and I? I can understand his comfort around me. I was his rescuer; that is a wizard's debt. It is ancient magic, unfailing and perfectly reasonable. But why do I, the one who he is indebted to, feel my own obligation; that of his protector. Even as I sit here and write this, I do so ignoring the compulsion that calls me to watch over him.
Hermione tore the pages out of the journal, setting them in the vessel that was reserved for her most intimate thoughts. Touching the tip of her wand to the torn pages and incanting 'Incendio', Hermione affirmed her determination to accept the truth as it rose with the smoke, while doubt and worry turned to ashes. As the last of the flames died out, Hermione added the ashes to her container before retrieving her Arithmancy book and supplies and returning to the common room.
True to her word, Hermione decided to trust her instincts, which had rarely failed her before, refusing to question the reason behind her sense of obligation towards Malfoy. Their evenings were spent generally in companionable silence, interrupted by the occasional debate regarding their coursework.
Hermione found that, now that she no longer bothered with the why's of their relationship, she rather enjoyed it. She had always enjoyed companionship during study but had grown weary of the invariable battles that would ensue when working with Ron and Harry.
Malfoy's discipline was similar to hers, though it was rare to see him poring over his studies all evening. He tended to study and complete his assignments as would be expected of a diligent student, quick to point out when Hermione had exceeded the requirements for an essay, before pulling out a book to read.
It was on one of those evenings when Hermione was well into her third foot of parchment for an Arithmancy essay that only required two that Draco decided to break their accustomed silent companionship.
"In the name of Merlin, how is it that we've been working on the same essay, yet I've finished mine over an hour ago? Sitting here listening to your quill scratching against the parchment is becoming nearly as unbearable as potting mandrakes."
Hermione, her nerves already on edge as she contemplated the amount of material she would need to cover in the month left before the N.E.W.T.'s, slammed the quill down on the parchment, a bit of ink splattering onto her cheek.
"You know, Malfoy, not all of us were bequeathed enough Galleons to live off of for ten lifetimes. I'm so sorry if the fact that I intend to leave Hogwarts ready for whatever life has to throw at me is disturbing to you. Perhaps it is best if I retire to my rooms."
"Suit yourself, Granger," Draco drawled nonchalantly.
As Hermione exhaled loudly in exasperation and gathered her things, he picked his book back up and returned to the page he had been reading. Not until he heard the door to her room slam, echoed by what sounded like something heavy being tossed against the wall, did he let his head fall back in frustration.
He really hadn't meant to get her so riled up. He had honestly thought that the off-handed comment was perfectly allowable as both she and Potter had behaved very rationally, not expecting him to transform into something that went against the very fiber of his being. It wasn't as if that were the worst comment she had heard him make, yet this was the first time she'd snapped at him. Perhaps, whatever it was that was drawing the two of them together, was affecting her as much as it was him.
Snapping out of his thoughts as he heard her storm down the stairs, he watched her as she left; the feeling of emptiness he had been trying to ignore whenever they parted company came over him again. He settled back and tried to bury that feeling yet again but knew that it would not happen when he realized he had spent the past minute trying to read a single sentence.
Resigning himself to the fact that it was time for them to discuss, or at the very least acknowledge, the strange bond that they seemed to have formed over the past few months, Draco returned his book to his dormitory and left the Heads' quarters. Bypassing the library, Draco headed to the rear staircase located off of the main hall before making his way up the stairs.
Hermione had tried to continue the essay she had been writing upon returning to her room, but was unable to concentrate. Every time she began a task, she would feel that same draw, making her feel obligated to be with him, to comfort him. Despite the sarcasm and smirk that he had reclaimed, she knew that he was still haunted. Hermione had fled to the Astronomy Tower, not wanting to run into any other students or be easily found.
She opened the book that she had brought with her. Not the Arithmancy text needed to complete the essay that had become the point of their contention, no, she had brought her beloved journal; her emotional waste basket, the only tool that had proven effective of exhausting all of the emotional and mental anguish from her system so that she could function.
Absently running the fine feathers of the quill across her jaw, Hermione tried to mentally separate the strands of thought to isolate those that had her in such turmoil. Ever since he had rejoined the schools population, since he and Harry had formed their eerie, comfortable camaraderie, her entire sense of balance had been thrown.
Whenever she looked into those eyes that called to her from across the room, the Great Hall, even through the doors to her private quarters, she could see the humility that had surfaced in him. It was true that, despite his hurt and subsequent healing, he had managed to reclaim that air of confidence that deemed him worthy of Slytherin house, yet, he had been freed of the burden of the arrogance that had made him the bane of her existence for six years. Alone with her thoughts and journal, she could not deny that she now found his assuredness appealing, where it had once been appalling.
Hermione sighed as she hugged the journal close to her chest, jumping as a clap of thunder sounded in the distance. She found the oncoming storm comforting, as if the gods that controlled such things were joining her in her inner turmoil. She gazed up hazily as the storm clouds rolled in, her body straightening as a familiar chill and urgency come over her. Turning slowly, she was not shocked to see Draco standing at the apex of the stairwell.
"You're not the only one who feels it," he offered slowly, as he crossed the room to sit down next to her, his hands folded awkwardly in his lap.
Draco had felt the bond that was growing between them since he first awoke in the hospital wing, something inside of him breaking at the sight of her in tears over Harry's bed.
He hadn't wanted to admit that he wanted her by his side but it was becoming harder and harder to deny. Even as he had lain silent, he had found that when he desired her gaze strongly enough to see the depths of emotion her eyes could offer, he could will her to look at him.
Hermione closed the book carefully, looking up into his eyes, not bothering to clear herself of the tears that had formed.
"What is it?"
Draco paused. He couldn't answer that question; not completely, not yet. He hadn't even eliminated all of the possibilities. Of course, he had his suspicions, his fears. They had surfaced while he was in captivity. Malfoy lore, told at family gatherings, came to mind as he tried to will himself the blessed escape into death. But he was so young. No one under the age of seventy had been affected in twenty generations. No, he couldn't answer that question yet. He would need more time. Having no verbal answer to her query, Draco took her hand in his. Looking into her eyes he raised her hand to his cheek, turning slightly to kiss the inside of her palm.
With that single act, Hermione felt the dam that she had so carefully constructed to ward off the emotions, give way to months of cracks and dents. Burying her head against his shoulder, Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist and decided that she would worry about what had drawn the two together tomorrow.
They sat that way, in the silence that had become comfortable for the two, for a long while. Unwilling to move lest they dislodge the blanket of content that had settled around them, they simply sat; the beats of their hearts regulating to the tempo of the rainfall outside; the rise and fall of their chests lulling them both towards slumber.
"Draco," Hermione spoke timidly, looking up into his face, unable to read his expression.
He winced at the sound of his name. It was an unreasonable request, but he felt as if he would be perfectly content to simply be near her like this, no words exchanged, just being. And so he didn't respond, save raising his hand to the back of her head to lay it back against his chest. 'Just a little while longer,' he thought, hoping whatever bond they held was strong enough to convey the desire.
Hermione sighed. Her legs and backside were aching. Deciding to give him a few more minutes, as it was clear that he did not wish to leave yet, she nestled her head against his chest, raising her hand to move the curls, which had slipped into her mouth.
Review Responses:
Katie: I hope that you've enjoyed the update and am glad to see that you are following the story. Hopefully you enjoy the end of this chapter, I wrote it initially for a challenge on the quietones yahoo group while writing earliar parts of this story and managed to work it in rather nicely. Look forward to hearing your feelings on the update!
Jenie: Wow, I'm so glad that you're enjoying the fic. You know fanfiction dot net gets a bad rep in some circles, but I must say the readers here seem to review more! One of the comments I've gotten in other fics was to try and be more descriptive. It's not exactly my nature, I tend to not notice a lot of things, even in real life, but I'm working on it. When writing about his parents' effects I was trying to do that, glad that it did not go unnoticed :)
SiriuslyPadfoot'sGal: Alas, I am sorry to inform you that my response will not be entirely positive. I do not take well to other's claiming my men, and Sirius is mine, SIRIUSLY :) hehehehe, j/k but I couldn't resist as I have definitely tried to claim him as my own. I'm really glad that you're enjoying the fic thus far. I had written most of what you've read so far before acquiring a beta and simply corrected inconsistencies and grammatical errors as I was under a tight deadline when writing it. But I do believe that from her input into my writing it improves throughout until the end. Here's your update, I hope you enjoy!
Runaway mental patient: Brilliant blush. adjusts glasses to read user name Oh wait, can I take that as a valid opinion from a mental patient? Hey, I'll take what I can get. I hope you enjoy!!!
TheManWhoLetTheBoyLive: giggles I'm going to take that as a positive response. Here's your update, thanks for commenting!
Artemis1860: I caught the plug and I will try and make my way over to check out your fic, it's posted here right? The change in Draco I'm hoping will be distinctive but not drastic or overnight. One of my biggest problems with this ship is the sudden 180's people have Draco doing, actually this ship and D/G. In anycase as I said, I am going to try and check out Happy Ending, although I have a SS/HG wreaking havoc with my brain right now!