Power of Dance
Chapter Eleven
Discovery
(A/N:: not mine)
My felt swept away. Her lips were swollen, stinging and slightly bruised. She welcomed the pain. She reached her hand up and stroked a pale cheek flushed with the heat between them.
His hand captured hers and held it tightly against his face, he could feel and almost inhuman heat radiating from her skin. He didn't care. He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers. Across her cheeks, forehead, eyelids before lowering his head and leaving a trail of light kisses in a line from ear to collarbone.
She shuddered under his lips; the line of fire he created on her neck threatened the fire of the phoenix burning inside of her. My reached her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, fingernails lightly stroking the back of his head.
They were lost to each other, in each other.
The closing of the club at three didn't break them; the crush of people streaming past them didn't separate them. They were lost in an influx of emotions and feelings, blind to everything but the other's eyes.
"Oi, you lot." A rough voice finally broke into their private communication. A bartender stood in front of them; arms crossed against his chest a protective and disapproving gleam in his eyes. "Clear off. The disco's closed." He ignored Drake focused on My, a paternal gleam in his black eyes. "Run of to your mum like a good lass." Drake looked down at My, a question burning in his eyes. Should he back off? The feeling of her entwining her fingers with his the only answer. After a shy smile to the bartender they slowly walked out of the club and back to the alleyway. Neither felt a desire to return to school, to reality and the problems therein. My turned and looked up at him. Ready to ask what happens next.
"Drake." Her mouth opened, pain refilled her eyes. She didn't continue. He understood with out words. Gently but passionately he grabbed her upper arms and pressed her against the cement wall of the alley. It reminded her of a random night in august. Drake's mouth met hers and the drunken man vanished from her memory. He kissed her with power and fear and love and reassurance. As her tongue caressed the inside of his mouth she felt warmer, safer, ready to face the world. He leaned in, his hips pressing hard against her stomach.
Reaching down he looped his hands underneath My's hips and lifted her up. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned against the wall, pulling his face closer to her intent on closing the distance between them.
The feel of his lips over hers, the warmth he radiated made her feel safe. The safest she had felt since the first dance they shared. Drake broke the kiss first, resting his forehead against hers.
"We need to return. The school is going to lock down soon."
Her voice was quiet. "I know we do."
She sighed as the she was lifted away from the cool hard stone of the building. She leaned forward and rested her head against Drake's chest, waiting to be lowered to the ground.
Drake could feel the heat from her burning into his chest. It worried him; no one should be able to live at such a temperature.
"My." His quiet whisper echoed in the dripping alley. "My, how long have you been--" He couldn't continue.
"This warm?" She sighed. "Since I met you at Pulse." The words struck him through the heart and unconsciously he tightened his arms around and under her hips. Shifting her body like it weighed nothing he maneuvered her so she was cradled in his arms bridal style. She returned her head to his chest and the heat he could feel burning through the micro fiber shirt he was wearing intensified the worry that coursed through his veins.
"I'll protect you My. Hermione." He pressed his lips to her head before he continued. "According to the histories, Beatrice, the muggle girl lived for six months filled with burning heat. It wasn't until her eyes turned fiery that her end--" Drake's voice trailed off the silence of the alley. "But she also didn't have any powers of her own. You were a witch to begin with; in fact you might be the most powerful witch that this world has seen in centuries. I bet that you could live with the phoenix indefinitely." She smiled against his chest.
"Thank you for your faith Drake."
He stood in front of the wall and whispered the incantation, they had never entered the portal at the same time before, but now her had her in his arms he was loathe to let her down even to travel back to Hogwarts.
"Drake is it safe to--" before she completed her thought he stepped through the portal and stepped out into the darkness of the Hogwarts hallway. Behind them the doorway collapsed with a crash that echoed down the dark hallway.
He slowly let her feet drop to the floor, and slipped his arms around her waist.
"I don't want you to go back to your tower." He whispered into her hair.
"I--" My cleared her throat, "I don't want to either, we have to talk." He pressed his face into her neck, right where shoulder met neck. She placed a warm hand on his head. "We really do need to talk."
"I know. I know we do. Tonight though. Tonight I just want to hold you." Tears filled her eyes, would he feel the same way after they talked?
"Come to my room." He lifted his head from her neck eyes wide; go into Gryffindor tower?
"Your roommates-- Its Gryffindor."
"I don't have any. Please Drake--Draco."
His heart melted. He couldn't refuse her anything. He simply nestled her tiny hand in his. Together they walked through the darkened halls, the gentle snores of the portraits was comforting in the silence of the sleeping castle. Drake felt the heat coming off of My's body spread from her to him through their entwined fingers. It traveled from his fingers up his arm and then down through his body.
She was his, and like Lucien he would do anything and everything in his power to keep her with him.
Up and up they walked before reaching the fat woman in a pink dress snoring loudly, head resting against the frame.
"Marmite." Drake's eyes widened at the sound of such an innocuous password. Were the Gryffindor's and by proxy the "Light" side already so far removed for the conflict that consumed the Syltherins? Obviously so.
The woman opened one eye and she sleepily murmured, "welcome back dear," before falling back against the frame. Drake and My entered the tower fingers still entwined together.
Just as the portrait slammed shut the Fat Lady's eyes sprung open.
She had just admitted a Slytherin into Gryffindor Tower. She had to alert the Headmaster. Hoping no one was awake and wishing to leave she hiked up her skirt unconcerned at the pink from her bloomers and began to sprint through other portraits headed directly to the Headmaster's private quarters.
Drake lay in Hermione's bed in his boxer shorts with both arms wrapped around her. Her warmth warmed him. Together they lay, his front to her back, she was completely sheltered by his frame.
Her even breathing soothed him, lulled him into a safe place where he could relax. In her room, arms tight around her he would sleep well for the first time in years. Her gentle smell and heat a barrier against the nightmares that plagued him. With her he was safe.
That thought foremost in his mind he fell asleep.
"Oh Headmaster. I am so sorry. I was asleep I didn't think, I've never failed before. Please, Please--"
"Hush, hush good lady." Dumbledore soothed the distraught painting. In his brilliant mind Dumbledore considered his options. He could go to the tower and forcibly remove the boy, or he could let it be. At this point if Drake was what My wanted, he would give it to her. After all she gave him and the wizard world.
Their Freedom.
If sleep--
And that was all he was going to allow himself to admit. If sleeping in Drake's arms was going to offer her a modicum of peace, if it was what she wanted, what she needed, it was the very least that he could do.
Taking a bit of spare parchment, he grabbed a quill and scrawled a note to all the school's professors.
Please excuse Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy from ALL classes today. Any and all questions should be directed to myself.
Thank you for your assistance
Headmaster Dumbledore
The glaring yellow of the Weasly joke ink hurt his sleep filled eyes, and after distributing each missive to the various professors he retuned to him bed.
Drake woke to the sun in his eyes and a feeling of extreme relaxation that he had only ever been able to obtain chemically.
He reached a hand out and felt empty space, sheets still burning from where she had been sleeping.
His head shot up. Where had she gone?
Then he heard it.
"My are you coming to classes?" Weasly's voice filtered though from the other side of the phoenix painting. "Phoenix flight." To Drake's horror the painting faded away to reveal Ron standing there.
Blue eyes widened. Took in the sight of My in an oversized black tee-shirt and Drake in her bed, shirt casually tossed to the floor next to his pants. He inhaled, face flushed, eyes angry.
"What?" His breath came short, and Drake could feel the tension, anger and pure unadulterated power pouring off of Ron in waves.
"Ron please." Her voice was quiet and timid. "He and I need to talk." Ron's face turned from tomato red to a deathly pale. "I need him Ron." Drake scrambled from the bed and walked to her side, ready to defend her against the enraged teen.
The next voice to speak knocked any worry of Ron straight from Drake's mind.
"Ron, mate, is she coming?"
Harry.
My's eyes widened, a fearful expression on her face.
"Ah no, she's tired. I'll be there in a minute."
"Alright just hurry up."
Ron's eyes were serious and he locked his blue eyes to her brown ones.
"Now is not the time to tell Harry." The blue eyes then turned to pull gray eyes into their focus. "But we will talk about this. Talk about it after class. Both myself and Harry deserve the truth." He leaned forward and kissed My's cheek, before exiting the room, portrait reforming behind him.
My sank to the floor eyes wide. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit." She looked up at Drake. "He'll kill you Drake." A tear formed at the corner of her eye. "He'll kill you or I'll lose him. I can't loose either of you." The flames in the hearth shrank and slowed their merry dance, sharing her melancholy and fear. "I guess I may loose you any way though."
He stepped forward and pulled her to her feet, gripping her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye.
"My why? Why do you think that I'll leave you? Why do you always act like you don't deserve me? I am the son of an evil maniac, the dreadful evil prat that whished for your death. I hexed you and I tormented you. I am the one that doesn't deserve you." Draco's voice broke and he turned his back to her, refusing to allow her to see the tears in his eyes.
"Don't you get it?" My's voice was quiet; the usual pain was laced with anger and regret. "You taunted, tormented me. Yes. I forgive you. It gave me the strength I needed to survive being best friends with Harry and Ron. If you had touched my family, if you had ever hurt them, that's when I never would have ever forgiven you. My mother." An intelligent woman with clear, warm brown eyes and honey hair. "My father." A cheerful laugh, bald head, and love in his eyes. "If you had ever hurt them I would have destroyed you." The pain in her chest grew. Her beloved parents were dead. "And I, I want to love you, I want you to love me. But I know that I don't deserve you. Because I killed your father Draco. I set him on fire. Inside and out he burned. From his lips I heard pleading and prayer and the fire only got hotter. Just as his body began to crisp I heard him." Her voice grew louder, choked with tears, eyes burning with the remembered acrid odor of burning flesh. She flinched away from his gentle fingers. "Just as he died he called out for you. He cried 'My son' voice filled with such pain, such despair. It burned its self into my skin, into my brain. Into my soul. I carry them. The death cries of your father, of the other death eaters. They linger in my brain. I once vowed to destroy the people that killed my parents and I did." Her voice died, the tears falling down her cheeks sizzled as traveled down her face.
"How can I let you love me? I killed your father. If you had been responsible for my parents I would never be able to go near you, to look at you. "Her voice trailed off. Her heart ached. This was it. This was where he leaves in a righteous cloud and she is left alone.
Drake felt a load lift from his shoulders. He had a glimpse into her awareness. He understood. Now he had to make her understand.
"Hermione, you loved your parents. I am sure that they loved you too. I can se it in your eyes, in your interaction with people. I understand your reason for thinking I should hate you but there is something that changes the situation." He took her hand and guided her to sit on the floor with him. As he continued his voice was detached, already separating himself from his emotions. "I didn't love my father. Not after he killed my mother." My gasped. "He pushed her down a flight of stone stairs when I was fifteen. She was already fragile from the other times 'accidents' occurred around our manor." He took a deep breath and tried to organize his thoughts. "From the day I was born I emulated, idolized my father and his ideals. He was perfect. When I came to Hogwarts things began to change. I was never good enough, smart enough, strong enough. That was when the beatings began. At first it was a slap of a fist in the back of the head. It made me work harder, make more people miserable so that he would be proud of me. It never did though, the situation just got worse. Finally the truth about my father came out right after fifth year. He pushed my mother down the stairs and told me she slipped." The image of an icy princess marred by the trail of blood from her eyes and nose and the odd angle of her neck filled the private room. "That was the night he blamed me for Potter--Harry. That was the night he took me to the dungeon." My reached out and smoothed away the glittering tears with her thumb, gently moving the hurt.
"You don't have to tell me. I don't need to know anymore." He looked at her, eyelashes soaked in tears.
"But I need to tell. I know I need to tell you, to tell someone. The moment I knew I didn't love him was the instant I saw my mum. The instant I knew he didn't love me was the instant that he lashed me with a burning whip and didn't stop. Would a man that loved his son have done this?" Drake turned his bare back to her. Angry red scars covered every inch of his back. The pale unscarred parts looked out of place against the raised scar tissue.
My ran a finger, her hand down his back and watched him shiver underneath her touch.
"Oh Drake. Draco." She pulled off the tee shirt and pulled his scarred back to her bare chest. "I can feel your heartbeat."
"I can feel yours." He was quiet and wondering. She still wanted him. My felt their hearts beat together in a beat so like and unlike the beat of the clubs. She was astonished he was here with her, letting her love him despite their past.
The beating of their hearts overpowered her, attracted her, and consumed her.
"Dance with me Drake?" HE felt the beat surrounding them, wrapping them in a sensuality that make the fire and the candles flare.
He stood and pulled her with him. He placed his lips on hers, on her neck collarbone between her breasts. Her skin burned and lit the fire inside of him to greater heights. Their hips moved together, bodies joined in a dance as old as time, as they lost themselves in each other and the dance they danced.
The sound of students entering the common room broke through their absorbation. They lay entwined on the floor, limbs tangled, she lay cradled against his chest as her fingers played over his back a deep feeling of contentment and lethargy draped over her. "I don't want to move." Her words were whispered into the base of his neck.
"You don't have to." As he spoke he tightened his grip and entwined his fingers together as they rested low on the small of her back.
A faint, "Dean, tell what grade you got on McGonagall's essay?" My sat up and looked down in Drake's eyes.
"That was Harry." She began to panic. Images of Harry storming in throwing curses flooded her mind. "I--, I--, Oh god Drake."
"Shhhhhh…" He placed a hand on her cheek. "I can sneak away. Weasly and Potter never have to find out about us. I will stay quiet if you ask me to." The words hurt him to say. The only thing that hurt him more was the possibility that she would agree to his pledge to step aside.
"No Drake. You're mine. I need you, need us. I just need to tell him, tell them." She closed her eyes and inhaled. "Alone." Drake rose and pressed his lips to her forehead and again to her lips.
"I know. But know that all you have to do is say the word and I'll be there, no matter where I am or what I am doing I will hear you and I'll come for you."
"Thank you Drake."
TBC--
A/N:: Sorry to cut it there I had more written but as 'fixedinsanity' has said on repeated occasions a month is far to long to go in between updates. Oh and thanks to 'EntertheMatrix' for review 300.
At least you should know that I already have at least five pages of Chapter 12 Revelations written. In it you can look forward to the in depth conversation between the trio, a Harry/Draco confrontation and more information on My's anchor. I hope you are still interested in reading it.
Now for the serious part. I am seriously considering the idea of trying to publish my writing, right now, this is as close as I have come. Please if you are reading this review and let me know in all honesty your opinion on the story premise, characterization and overall style, above all if you think I could become a professional writer. I am really unsure if this is a move I should and would love the feedback from objective readers.
Thank You
Cat
