A/N: Thank you for each and every review, follow and favourite. It gives me butterflies *
I initially planned for this story to be 24 chapters long…and yeah, that's not happening anymore. I'm busy with chapter 23, and I'm definitely not done yet. I'm now thinking maybe 26 or more chapters. We'll see…
I did say I'm not going to repeat the trigger warnings with every chapter, but I am asking you to go and have a quick scan through the list I posted with the first chapter before you start reading this one.
Songs to listen to:
Gavin DeGraw – Best I ever had (past and present, I guess…)
Sandro Cavazza & Georgia Ku – Love to lose (present)
Olly Murs – Dear darling (present)
Tove Lo – Habits (present)
Dean Lewis – Hurtless (past)
Colbie Caillat – Bubbly (past)
Goo Goo Dolls – Here is gone (past)
Yup…I had quite a bit of musical inspiration for this chapter. Give them a whirl and see…
xxx
Chapter 6:
"Courage is not having the strength to go on; it is going on when you don't have the strength."
-Theodore Roosevelt
September 2005:
"What baby?" Draco asked, clenching his teeth so hard it hurt.
With the bomb Granger just dropped, he felt his world tilt on its ear. What was she talking about? Surely, he would have known if she'd been pregnant, wouldn't he? He'd have noticed something. Bouts of nausea, fatigue or irritability. Tender breasts, even. But he remembered nothing. Couldn't even remember if she'd skipped her periods. Perhaps he'd been too busy to notice any of it.
"I had just found out I was pregnant a few days before you were due home from your business trip, and I was planning to surprise you with the news when your father told me about you and Astoria."
"What about Astoria and me? Why do you keep mentioning her?"
"Because you were having an affair with her!" Granger accused with a fierce scowl.
"But I didn't shag her." Draco gaped, nonplussed.
"Malfoy, listen," she gave him a pointed look. "It's fine. You don't have to lie or pretend for my sake. It's in the past and it doesn't matter anymore."
"But I didn't!" He growled in frustration. "I swear to you I never shagged Astoria. Just you. Only you. I was in love with you, Granger. You were my wife. I would never have done that to you."
"But-"
"Granger, I don't know why you'd believe my father, but Astoria is Pansy's girlfriend," he explained. "Well, fiancée now, but that's beside the point. The fact is, they've been together since before we started dating."
"I-" She gaped, mouth popping open in confusion. "What?"
"It doesn't matter. What I want to know is, where is our baby?"
"Draco…" she fixed him with a disconsolate look.
"Can I meet him or her? I know I don't get to make demands, but perhaps with time-"
"Draco!" She tried louder this time. "I lost our baby."
Draco's stomach dropped and a chill shuttled up his spine. He tipped his head to the side to scrutinize her and took a step toward her. "What do you mean you lost our baby?"
Granger looked away from him, her fingers fidgeting with the delicate chain of her ruby necklace while she contemplated her next words. "There was an incident...with Looksy."
"Looksy? Our house-elf?"
"Yes." She nodded and clamped her wobbling lips together in an effort not to cry, but a rebellious tear beaded on her lower lid and clung to her bottom lash for a second before dropping to her cheek. "She uhm..." Granger hesitated for a moment, wiping away the tear with the back of her hand. She shifted with discomfort, voice catching when she continued. "She pushed me down the stairs after my conversation with your father. After I'd told him I was pregnant. I had my suitcases with me, and I was ready to leave…"
When he didn't reply—couldn't reply—she continued. "I was mostly unscathed after the fall. A few bumps and bruises. At worst a cracked rib. Nothing serious. But when I got to the Leaky Cauldron and booked into a room and…" she choked on the words, swallowing convulsively.
He couldn't stop staring at her, nausea and guilt roiling in the pit of his stomach.
"There was just so much blood and I didn't know what to do to stop it." She sniffled and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, openly crying now.
"Did you go to St. Mungo's? Did they at least try to save the baby?"
"Draco," she whispered, eyes filled with pity...for him. "It was too early into the pregnancy. I was barely ten weeks along. There was nothing they could do."
He tried to speak, opening his mouth to offer her some sort of consolation, or even a fucking apology, but he couldn't get his tongue to cooperate. He willed himself to take a step closer; to pull her into his arms and soothe her, but his feet refused to do his bidding. He wanted to take this gut-wrenching pain away from her. Make her forget that it ever happened. He hadn't been there to protect her, and it was horrifying just thinking about her going through a miscarriage alone. Carrying around this pain for so many years, with no one to help share the load.
But...blaming Looksy? Something didn't add up.
"Looksy would never do something like that. She's been with our family since before I was born." He took a step back from Granger, suddenly overwhelmed by all of it. "Looksy adored you. She would never have done anything to harm you," he accused, hands shaking. "She would never have done that to us."
"I know what happened, Draco," she growled at him through clenched teeth, her eyes on fire. "I was fucking there! I noticed the blood. I had to get dressed in clean clothes. Wash away the blood on my hands, my knickers and my dress. I had to go to St Mungo's and hear the healer tell me the little life we created together was no longer there."
The fight left her in one heavy exhale, her fire dwindling with every tear that rolled down her cheeks, tracking salty streaks down to the curve of her jaw. She slowly took a step closer to him. "We were at the top of the stairs…." she whispered like it was too horrible to speak the truth out loud. And perhaps it was. "Looksy was walking me out, pretending to calm me down, and then she just turned towards me suddenly and pushed me. Hard. I was completely blindsided, and I swear to Merlin himself that I'll never forget the look in her eyes. So hollow. Looksy showed no emotion." Granger's next words were spoken with conviction, "But there was no mistaking her intentions."
"It still doesn't make sense!" He snapped, pushing his hands into his hair. He was at a loss for what to say. Looksy was a wonderful, innocent little thing. He'd never seen anything close to malice from the elf in all the years he's known her. And for her to do this to Granger—to them—it just wasn't possible.
"I don't…" He choked, shaking his head. He felt hollow with the revelation and forced down the bile that rose up in his throat. "I just...can't process this." He tugged hard on his hair, hoping the pain would ground him. He had no fucking clue what to believe. "I have to go."
"You're not fucking serious, Malfoy! How can you walk away right now? After everything I just told you."
"I'm sorry, Granger. I need some time," he said over his shoulder without affording her so much as a second glance as he walked away from her. He knew if he did, the look in her eyes would make him stay. He needed to get to the bottom of this, and there was only one way to do that…
xxx
Draco marched determinedly from the fireplace and into the parlour of Malfoy Manor, up the many stairs, past statues and portraits towards his parents' wing, all while trying to calm this overwhelming rage that was thrumming through his veins. He needed to remain composed if he were to confront his father. It wouldn't do to lose his temper in the heat of the moment. Lucius Malfoy was notorious for feeding off others' emotions and using them as ammunition for ruthless attacks.
His father may be on his deathbed, but it didn't mean he was any less of a bastard.
Just a few meters in front of his father's bedroom door, he paused, trying his best to steel himself for the conversation he was about to have.
He could still run away if he chose to, and as tempting as it was, he needed answers more than he needed to avoid confrontation. He needed to know how his father could take the life of his own grandchild without an ounce of remorse.
Draco's heartbeat counted each footfall as he closed the distance with more determination than he possessed, his legs heavy and hands shaking as he tried to suppress his emotions. He could do this. He was no longer a child staring down the barrel of his father's threats and disapproval. He could face Lucius Malfoy man to man now.
He turned the doorknob, sucked a deep breath into his lungs and willed his heartbeat to slow down so he could remain composed and sharp-witted. And with a tilt of his head toward the ceiling, he begged the gods for some courage to get what he came here for. The truth.
Upon entering, Draco found the bedroom warm and quiet, only the crackling fire making a sound.
His father was still awake, reclining in bed with pillows stacked behind his back for support. His glasses were resting on the bridge of his nose, he had a book in his hand, and he looked tired; it had nothing to do with the late hour. He looked thinner and paler than usual, with sunken cheeks and eyes set deep in his face. Shadows lined his eyes, and a thin, bony hand lifted to turn a page, further proving that Lucius Malfoy was indeed dying.
Where Draco had once wondered if his father's declining health had been a ploy to drag him back to the Manor, it was now clear that his parents hadn't lied about it. The potions may have slowed down the progress of the poison, but his father's death was looming like a viper waiting to strike.
The fact that Draco had been here for a visit more than three months ago, highlighted the speed with which his father's health was declining, but as heartless as it sounded, Lucius Malfoy had a knack for defying the odds.
Draco walked closer to the bed; his footsteps muffled by the thick carpets on the floor. But he was smart enough to know his father was already aware of his presence, choosing for him to make the first move. Everything was a game with Lucius Malfoy. So, Draco cleared his throat in an about way of announcing his presence, playing along.
"Draco," Lucius smiled gleefully, feigned surprise on his face. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. "What a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting you."
Draco stared at his father for a moment without responding, trying to process how this man, now so fragile and pathetic, had been the cause of so much pain and destruction.
"It's rather late. Is everything all right?" His father asked with feigned concern.
What a lovely touch.
And somehow, Draco knew he was behind Looksy's uncharacteristic behaviour.
"Why did you do it, father?" Draco asked in a calm, unwavering voice when all he wanted to do was scream. Or break something.
Lucius frowned at Draco. "Do what?"
"Why did you interfere in my marriage? Why did you make Hermione leave?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, son." His father responded, but pursed his lips and looked away. It was a clear admission of guilt. Lucius Malfoy was losing his touch.
"The hell you don't!" Draco snapped, composure falling to pieces at his feet.
He grabbed the bedside table and, enraged, flipped it over without any effort at all. The water glass and bed lamp smashed loudly against the floor, water spraying the side of the bed and the edges of his trousers. He didn't give a fuck. "STOP LYING TO ME! JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU DID!"
"You have to understand, son," Lucius said calmly, hands lifted in a placating gesture. It pissed Draco off that his father could be so unaffected by what he did. "I just wanted what was best for you. I've only ever wanted that."
"TELL ME!" Draco bellowed, his body trembling with rage.
He was done with his father's bullshit. He'd had just about enough of the pathetic excuses and justifications.
"What in the world is going on in here?" Narcissa came bursting into the room in her nightgown, hair down and face washed clean, looking pale with concern.
Draco ignored his mother's presence, still pinning his father down with a murderous glare. He took a step closer to the man he'd once trusted. A man he thought he knew. And with a calm voice, belying his internal war, he asked, "Why did you tell Hermione I was fucking Astoria?"
"Draco, language!" His mother chastised with a gasp, a prim hand clutching at her proverbial pearls. As if she hadn't heard far worse in the presence of the company they used to keep during the war.
"Why did you not tell me Hermione was pregnant? And how did Looksy end up pushing her down the stairs?"
"I was not going to stand by and watch some gold-digging mudblood ruin your life, Draco!" His father's voice rose in anger for the first time. They were finally getting somewhere now. "We've kept the Malfoy bloodline pure for centuries and I was not willing to let you throw that away because you were thinking with your cock instead of your head; just because that girl was good enough in bed to keep you interested for longer than a night."
"I loved her, father!" Draco roared in outrage. "I fucking loved Hermione more than anything—anyone—in this world. It was not just about the sex and you know it! Otherwise, you wouldn't have tried your best to interfere in our marriage. You pretended to be accepting of my wife, while you were secretly planning to destroy us all along." Draco's chest heaved and his heart pounded painfully against his ribs. "And as if that weren't enough, you made sure she lost the baby. YOU TOOK MY CHILD FROM ME!"
"Lucius, no!" Narcissa gasped, clapping a hand to her mouth. She shook her head in disbelief. "Please tell me you didn't?"
"I did what I had to do for this family, Narcissa!" He snapped at her. "You of all people should know the cost of keeping the Malfoy bloodline untainted. The sacrifices necessary to do what is expected of us." To Draco, he said, "You and Miss Granger always knew it would end. You knew your marriage was doomed from the start. A pure-blood and a mudblood," his father shook his head and chuckled derisively. "I just upped the timeline. And a child would have complicated things."
"But an innocent baby?" His mother looked at his father with deep hurt. "Your own son's unborn child?"
"Draco could have had children with any suitable witch his heart desired. He's a handsome boy, Narcissa. He's smart and he's wealthy. He could have had his pick. Any pure-blood witch would have fallen all over herself for the opportunity to marry him and bear a Malfoy heir," Lucius stated with conviction. "He still could. He's certainly young enough to start over."
"You don't get it, do you father?" Draco heaved a sigh of defeat. "I didn't want anyone else. I only wanted Hermione."
"Don't be dramatic, son. Love is an illusion. It makes you weak. Besides, look at all the women you've taken to bed since the mudblood."
Draco growled at the word.
"She couldn't have meant much to you if that was how you chose to deal with your apparent heartbreak," Lucius smirked, knowing he'd hit a nerve. "You reverted right back to form after the divorce. It's who you are. And nobody is judging you for wanting to have your fun. You don't even have to give that up when you take a wife. That's the beauty of being a Malfoy. The world is your oyster."
His mother glared at his father.
Draco opened his mouth to retort, but stopped short, choking on his guilt. It was true. He certainly had been very uninhibited after the divorce. It was familiar territory for him. But where it had always been a streak of rebellion; an indulgence before he had to fill the role that would be expected of him after school, this time around it had been a way to numb himself to the pain of losing the love of his life.
"I will never forgive you for what you did to her. And to me." Draco said, voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm happy to say I'm done with you. I'm so fucking glad that I get to walk away from your toxic beliefs and your skewed perceptions. And I hope your last breath is agonizing. That you fucking burn in hell for what you did. I hope you choke on your bullshit propaganda and that it hurts like hell on the way down. Because you deserve to suffer for this."
"Please, don't say that, Draco," his mother implored, lip trembling with the threat of tears. "You can't truly wish your father ill will? What he did was inexcusable, yes. And I admit I played a big part in your failed marriage. Caused you so much unhappiness with my meddling. But don't leave like this. I'm begging you."
"I'm sorry mother," he shook his head wearily, shoulders sagging, "But I'm done. With all of it. I don't want to be a part of father's sick games anymore."
xxx
Looksy squealed in delight when Draco found her down in the kitchen, busy preparing for tomorrow's meals.
"Master Draco!" She exclaimed with a large smile. "Looksy is so happy to sees her favourite young master. Looksy is bakes cookies that she is knowing the master will loves."
The elf scurried over to a large baking tray that had been set aside on the sparkling marble worktop to cool off, ears flapping with excitement as she went. She snapped her bony fingers and conjured a plate. "Looksy is knowing her master favours choc-chip cookies, she is. She makes them special, always hopings the young master Draco will comes to his home to visits the Master and Mistress of the Manor. And with Looksy, of course," The elf babbled excitedly while she piled freshly baked cookies onto the plate, oblivious to the reason for Draco's visit.
Only when she stopped in front of him with her offering did she notice his distressed expression and her brilliant smile faltered. "Master Draco isn't wantings his cookies?"
"Looksy," he tilted his head, fixing the elf with a calculating stare. "What happened that night with Hermione on the stairs when she was about to leave?"
The little house-elf gasped in shock, dropping the plate of cookies to shatter at their feet. Tears sprang to her large, orblike eyes and her ears drooped. In a matter of seconds, her gleeful expression transformed into horror.
Draco could see that the elf hadn't expected his question.
She hastily dropped to her knees to clean up the mess, stalling.
"Answer me, Looksy!" Draco commanded impatiently. He hated the way he was giving her an order, but he needed to know the truth. He'd had enough of secrets and lies from everyone close to him.
The elf popped up and onto her feet, bottom lip trembling. "Looksy is never forgiving herself for hurting the young master's wife." The elf started sobbing, shoulders shaking with the magnitude of her sorrow. Fat tears rolled down her wrinkled skin one after the other and dripped onto her apron.
Draco's blood froze. He had been so convinced that there must have been a mistake. That Granger had been confused and upset when she left the Manor, perhaps imagining things.
But it was true.
He turned away from Looksy, unable to stomach looking at the elf with her tears and remorse written so plainly across her face. He fisted his hands in his hair and squeezed his eyes shut to stop his own tears. "Why, Looksy? Why would you do that to her?"
"Please, sir," The elf moaned, grabbing his arm to turn him around. Her large eyes implored him to understand. To listen to her. "Looksy asks Master Lucius not to make Looksy do horrible things to the young mistress Malfoy or the baby growing inside of the mistress."
Looksy pulled a handkerchief from her small dress, blowing her large nose with alarming volume. "Master Lucius Crucio's Looksy over and over. He hits Looksy with the cane until Looksy feels dizzy in her head and her nose is bleeding because Looksy refuses to follow orders."
Draco swallowed convulsively, trying to keep himself from vomiting. How could his father be so fucking cruel? He knew Lucius Malfoy was a vindictive bastard with no conscience, but this was too far.
"I'm so sorry, Looksy. I didn't mean to insinuate that you did it on purpose. And I understand why you did it. I can't blame you for caving to my father's demands to avoid his punishments."
"But, sir, Looksy didn't caves." She shook her head emphatically. "Looksy keeps refusing Master Lucius until he Imperio's Looksy so she had to obeys. Looksy had to waits for the young mistress to leave. She hads been taking a long time to compose herself after talking to Master Lucius. And she had been sick in the toilet from upset. And when she finally comes out, Looksy helps her to the stairs and pushes her down, watching her the whole time as she falls." The elf sniffled juicily and wiped at her eyes. "And Looksy can't helps the young mistress when she gets hurt. Looksy hads to stand and watch."
xxx
"I need a drink!" Draco announced as he burst through the doors to Theo's rooms, feeling completely out of control of his emotions.
"Well, hello to you too. I'm doing well, thanks for asking," Theo said mockingly, looking up to scrutinize Draco from over the book he was reading. But his demeanour shifted the moment he laid eyes on Draco. "You look like shit, mate. What's happened?" Theo carefully marked his place with a bookmark and set the book face-down on the side table next to his armchair.
"I need a drink and I need to tell you something, or I might lose my mind."
With a wave of his hand, Theo summoned a glass for Draco and leaned toward the coffee table where the decanter and two half-full glasses of firewhisky sat on an ornate silver tray. He selected an empty crystal tumbler, poured a drink for Draco, and handed it over.
"You have company?"
Theo nodded, looking serious, maybe even a little guilty. "It's-" Theo started to explain, flushing when the door to his bedroom opened and none other than Potter walked out wearing an old Slytherin jersey of Theo's over a pair of denims.
"I hope you don't mind that I borrowed this?" Potter said, squinting at the green snake on the breast of the jersey as he fumbled with his glasses. "Because you tore my favourite button-down..." Potter looked up as he pushed his glasses onto the bridge of his nose, noticing Draco's presence for the first time. "To shreds..." He finished lamely, cheeks flushing pink. He awkwardly patted down his perpetually messy hair and tipped his chin in acknowledgement. "Malfoy. I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here." He looked over at Theo. "Should I go?"
"Draco?" Theo eyed him soberly, his unspoken question left hanging.
Draco sighed forlornly but shook his head. Perhaps it might help to have another ear listen to what he was about to say. Someone who knew Granger well and could offer an honest opinion. "No, Potter. You can stay."
"Is everything all right?" Boy-wonder asked gingerly, taking a seat beside Theo.
Draco wondered when these two had started shagging again. They'd been on and off so many times over the years that he couldn't seem to keep track anymore. Theo and Potter were both afraid of committing, which made no sense. Neither of them actively made the effort to date other people. "Did you know Granger was pregnant when we got divorced?"
"Hermione wasn't pregnant," Potter scoffed. "She would have told me. Or even Ginny."
An awkward silence fell over the three of them, and Draco contemplated how to tell them everything he'd learned this evening. He was still busy absorbing some of it, and he understood how Potter might feel defensive for finding out about secrets Granger had kept from him. As her best friend, Potter had always been privy to everything that was going on in Granger's life, but now it was clear that it wasn't the case anymore.
Draco picked up his drink, and downed it all in one go with a dignified gasp, relishing the burn of the firewhisky. He reached for the decanter, unstoppered it, and poured himself another generous measure. With a slight tremble to his hand, he tipped the glass to his lips and took a large mouthful, set down the glass and scrubbed his face in defeat. "She was pregnant and only my father and Looksy knew about it. Not even my mother knew."
"Looksy?" Potter asked, confused. "Who's that again?"
"Draco's house-elf," Theo murmured in explanation. "Or rather, one of the Malfoy house-elves."
"And Hermione didn't tell you?" Potter narrowed his eyes accusingly.
"Do you honestly think I would have let Granger leave if I knew?" He snapped, pinning Potter down with a reprimanding stare. "I'm not that heartless."
"Sorry," he sighed and scrubbed his face. "That was unfair of me."
Draco shrugged, over it already. It didn't matter what Potter's opinion of him was these days. It wouldn't fix what already happened. "You know my mother and father never approved of Granger," he continued.
Potter snorted derisively, and Theo gave a sage nod of acknowledgement, but both refrained from interrupting.
"And you know about our divorce after barely ten months of marriage."
They nodded again.
"As it turns out, my father had been the one to make Granger leave."
"Yeah, I suspected as much." Potter acknowledged, pursing his lips.
"But what you don't know is that he'd somehow convinced her that I was fucking Astoria behind her back. That I wanted a way out of our marriage and that I wouldn't want a half-blood for a child."
"Fucking hell..." Theo exhaled harshly. "I don't know why I'm even surprised. We should have expected something like this. The fact that we didn't just proves how naïve we were."
"And the baby?" Potter asked, concerned. "What happened to the baby?"
Draco tipped back what was left of his drink, ready to pour another when Potter took the glass from him, set it next to theirs, and filled all three to the brim. He exchanged a brief look with Theo—a silent conversation—before turning his eyes to Draco once more. "I get the idea that we'll be needing this." He handed Draco his glass back.
With a nod of thanks, Draco took the crystal tumbler and swallowed another large mouthful of the firewhisky. He pulled out his silver cigarette case, plucked one out and lit the tip. After a long drag, he offered the case to Potter and Theo, both accepting one each.
"My father," Draco all but growled the word, "Placed an Imperius on Looksy and had her push Granger down the stairs at the Manor after he'd convinced her I wanted to move on. I think he was hoping Granger would lose the baby."
Potter set his glass down on the coffee table and stuffed one hand into his hair, the other holding onto the cigarette. His fingers curled into a fist, and he tugged at his hair with a despairing moan. His jaw tightened and it looked as if he were trying very hard to keep from falling apart.
"Goddamit!" Theo cursed, lips pulling into a derisive sneer. He wrapped an arm around Potter as a gesture of comfort. "Please tell me this is just some fucked-up joke…" He begged when he lifted his eyes to Draco, anger evaporating like mist in the sun.
Draco shook his head. "It worked. The bastard wanted to make sure I'd never be able to claim a child that was of less than pure blood. He fucking Crucio'ed Looksy and beat her to within an inch of her life when she refused to follow his orders. And even then, he had to resort to the Imperius, because Looksy wouldn't do it."
"And Hermione just kept this to herself all this time. The pain of losing a baby. She never even told us." Theo stated with guilt. "We should have been there for her."
"I suppose that's why she started seeing a therapist." Potter provided and took a drag of his cigarette. He exhaled a thick stream of smoke and continued, "I wasn't supposed to know about it. I saw the business card in her kitchen once, purely by accident, stuck to her fridge. But I didn't want to ask about it. Thought it might be personal. Maybe a way of dealing with the war and the divorce." He squeezed his eyes shut, defeated. "I was glad she was getting some help."
Potter took a sip of his firewhisky and finished his cigarette. "She was very depressed when I first tracked her down to Dulwich. She'd bought herself a very impressive house. I'm not sure where she got the money."
Draco gave Theo a suspicious look. They were both thinking the same thing. Lucius had to have paid Hermione a significant amount of money to get her out of the Manor.
"But the house was empty. She didn't have any furniture or appliances. No food, either. And she'd been sleeping on an inflatable mattress for Godric-knows how long, living out of her suitcases. Didn't bother to shower or dress in anything other than sweatpants and threadbare shirts. She just slept a lot. And even after I convinced her to pull herself together, pushed her to buy the things she needed to fill the house, she remained very reclusive. Didn't bother to visit much, and didn't go out of her way to invite us over either. Ginny and I usually dropped by unannounced. But eventually, she seemed to get a better handle on things. Buried herself in work to avoid reality, but at least she was getting up in the mornings, you know?"
"I think she was trying to avoid seeing Blaise when she visited Ginny. Or me when she visited Harry." Theo said. "Maybe she was even scared that you'd be with us?"
"I think it's clear she was struggling more than she let on to any of us," Potter said, looking very guilty.
"Don't beat yourself up over it, Potter. I was her husband and she couldn't even come to me with her problems."
"Maybe you're being a little hard on her, Draco," Theo suggested. "You now know that it was all due to your father's influence. At least that means it was never because she didn't love you. The two of you can start over now. Clean slate."
"Start over? With Granger," he chuckled darkly. "Give her the opportunity to walk out on me again? No thanks, mate. I'm not that stupid."
"But we just established why she walked out. It's not what you thought at all."
"Oh, it's exactly what I thought. Aside from not being ashamed of who I was, nothing has changed. She still didn't say it to my face. Didn't have faith in me. She didn't fucking trust me if she chose to believe I was screwing around. It's way too late to fix things now."
xxx
After the conversation with Theo and Potter, Draco ended up blind-drunk and passed out on Theo's couch. When he'd been unable to stay upright without vomiting, Theo had insisted he stay the night and placed a bucket beside the couch in case he needed it.
Sadly, this wasn't his first time sleeping on Theo's couch. He'd done so a lot after the divorce.
In the beginning, he'd lost himself in as much alcohol as he could get his hands on. Cried until he passed out. And after a few months, angry and done crying over Granger, he'd moved on from sobbing to raging about her while Theo patiently listened. Eventually, when he could finally stomach it, he'd reverted to form, taking random women to bed.
He'd scaled down on the alcohol, only drinking enough to get a buzz going, and hung out in pubs to pick up women who looked as different from Granger as possible. Tall with straight hair—preferably blonde. He'd even made sure none of these women had eyes close to the same colour as Granger's.
Draco had realized early on that when he drank too much, he seemed inclined to seek out Granger lookalikes to screw, just so it could fuck him up in the head even more. Being drunk off his arse also made it more difficult to maintain an erection long enough to stuff his cock into his chosen partner for the night. But most importantly still, he'd found that shagging strangers were numbing enough without the alcohol to make him do what he'd intended: forget about Granger.
Theo had introduced him to Salvia Divinorum, also known as Sage of the Diviners. It was a white and purple flower that he'd imported from a wizard in Mexico, and used as a recreational drug.
Theo had brewed tea from the flowers or used the dried-up leaves to roll joints for them to smoke. Either way, Draco was hooked from the first hit. Using Salvia had made him hallucinate so excessively that Granger never even crossed his mind when he was high.
But memories of her were never far away, always resurfacing as soon as his high dwindled. Or when he slipped out of a strange bed in the middle of the night and went home to his cold, empty bed.
At some point he'd given up spending time alone, chasing that blessed numbness from one bed to another. If he wasn't at work, he was in some random woman's bed, buried balls deep inside of her with no painful thoughts to haunt him. And if he wasn't in the mood to fuck, or if he couldn't find a willing witch, he went over to Theo for a hit of Salvia to make him forget.
Eventually, when he'd gotten more adept at dealing with the pain, he'd given up Salvia for good. He knew what would happen to his teaching career if word ever got out that he was using.
xxx
The next morning, Draco woke up with a pounding headache, severe cottonmouth and a raging hard-on. The latter wilted within a matter of seconds as his brain caught up to the state of his body.
He'd been having a dream about Granger in Slytherin green heels and...
"Hey," she spoke from beside him with a gentle, soothing voice as if he'd summoned her with his thoughts. She stroked a hand over his hair. "You're awake."
"Yup," he croaked, bewildered for a moment about where he was and what he'd done the previous evening. "What happened last night? Did we shag?" He pushed himself up and immediately regretted it when his stomach roiled ominously and his brain hammered against his skull in protest.
Granger chuckled when he cradled his head in his hands with a groan.
"No, we didn't." She answered. "Can you remember our conversation-"
"Yes," he cut her off, last night's events coming back to him in disjointed flashes. "I remember." He stood up from the couch and pressed a hand to the armrest to steady himself. He was in dire need of a hangover potion, water and a piss. In no particular order.
When he stumbled in his hurry to get away from her, apparently still very drunk, Granger grabbed his arm to steady him. "Can I get you anything?"
"Need to pee," he shrugged off her hand and continued to the toilet on legs the consistency of jelly. "You should go, Granger," he told her without looking back.
He stumbled gracelessly into the bathroom, keeping a hold on any available surface he could— walls, shower doors, the basin—and proceeded to empty his bladder with terrible aim.
When he'd finally managed to wipe the toilet seat clean by hand since he'd so brilliantly forgotten his wand, he washed his hands at the basin, startled by his appearance in the mirror: bloodshot eyes accentuated by puffy lids atop and dark circles below. His hair was dishevelled and there was a bit of vomit stuck in his hair.
Disgusting.
Without giving it a second thought, he slid into the shower and turned on the water. He jumped and cursed when he was hit full blast with a spray of freezing water, hastily adjusting the knobs with little success.
When he'd scrubbed himself clean, washed his hair twice and towelled off, he wrapped the towel around his hips and secured it tightly. He finally felt as if he'd gained back some semblance of equilibrium.
He found Granger waiting for him when he stepped out of the bathroom with naught but the towel around his hips. She blushed furiously when she noticed, stuttering out an apology whilst turning away in embarrassment.
"Come now, Granger," he rolled his eyes at her, failing to suppress a grin despite himself. "It's nothing you haven't seen before. In fact-"
"I know, okay!" She groaned, her back still to him. "You just surprised me, that's all. I wasn't expecting you to be able to even aim for the toilet, never mind manage to scrape together enough motor skills to take a shower."
"My aim wasn't great, I'll admit."
Granger puffed out a laugh and turned around to face him.
And like flipping a switch, the humour dropped away, leaving them raw and exposed in front of each other.
"You had your tattoo finished," she pointed lamely to his right arm where the tattoo of a Griffin was displayed. The one he'd gotten to represent her. He should have left it incomplete. It had no place on his body anymore.
"You should really go now, Granger," he said in response to her comment, crossing his arms over his bare chest. He was aiming for casual indifference when all he wanted to do was flee from those honey eyes. He wasn't up for the conversation he knew they were due to have; especially not while hungover.
"I thought we might talk about last night. About everything I said." She slowly walked over to the couch and took a seat, crossing one leg over the other.
His gaze snagged on her legs, travelling down the smooth tanned skin of her shapely calves, and paused to inspect her baby blue, crochet-patterned pumps with a pretty little bow on each shoe. She was wearing high heels again. Gods, why? Wasn't he suffering enough right now?
"I'm sorry for what I said and the way I said it. You didn't deserve to find out like that."
Draco chuckled mirthlessly and nodded his head. "You're right about that, Granger. I should not have found out like that."
"Draco," she protested lamely, her shoulders sagging in defeat.
"No. You know what? I should have found out as soon as my father tried to interfere."
"I was confused," she said in her own defence. "I was scared and unsure and I didn't know whom I could talk to."
"That's BULLSHIT, Hermione, and you know it! I should have been that person for you. I was your fucking husband and you chose not to talk to me. You didn't come to me when my father told you all of those lies!"
"I thought you wanted out!" She shouted back at him, jumping up from the couch. "I thought it was over. I thought you and Astoria-"
"You were supposed to have some fucking faith in me, Hermione! Trust. Respect. It meant coming to me with whatever was bothering you and asking me to my face if I was having an affair; if I wanted a divorce. Not running away without an explanation. Or even a proper fucking letter that contained more than one sentence. Is that how little you thought of me?"
"I-" Hermione tried, but he cut her off again, his anger and hurt pouring out boundlessly. "I fucking loved you! I loved you more than my own life and you threw it back in my face by running away like a goddamn coward. Gryffindor, my arse!"
"Hi. Hello." Theo said with a quick wave as he crept from his room towards the kitchen. "Don't let me interrupt what sounds like a well-overdue conversation. I was just getting some water for Harry and myself. The firewhisky did us in last night and we might just stay in bed all day to recover."
Granger and Draco were busy having a silent staredown: Draco with his arms crossed over his chest, and Granger with her jaw and fists clenched. She looked lethal for such a tiny thing, and for a moment, they ignored Theo's presence.
When his words sank in, Granger turned and with a dumbfounded gape, asked Theo, "You and Harry are back together again?"
"Well, obviously." He drawled. "I believe I just inferred as much." He shot Granger a mischievous grin and a wink.
"How do I not know that?" She pouted, looking indignant.
Gods, she was still as easily sidetracked as always. It made him furious that she could simply shift focus like that.
Theo and Potter were shagging again, yes. But their getting back together was nothing new. It was their thing. They broke up, bitched about it for a few months, and then jumped right back in. Big fucking surprise that they were at it again.
On the other hand, he found himself relieved that the argument had ceased because frankly, it was tiring, frustrating, and painful. He was too hungover for this fight right now.
He edged toward the kitchen, careful not to invoke her ire once more, and proceeded to get himself a glass. He filled it with water while Theo distracted her with the details of how he and Potter had gotten back together again, this time.
Draco gulped down the glass of water like he couldn't get enough, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smacked his lips once, and refilled the glass.
When an awkward silence fell between the three of them, Theo grabbed the two glasses he'd filled and grimaced. "Well, as much fun as it was catching up with you, Hermione, I'll just leave you two to get back to your...uhm... conversation." He headed back toward his bedroom, adding offhandedly from over his shoulder, "Just try not to break anything when you end up having make-up sex in my living room. The coffee table is a priceless antique, in case you cared."
Granger scoffed indignantly. "That was one time, Theo. And we didn't break your coffee table. It was a crack in the tabletop, and if you recall, we fixed it for you. Besides, we're not going to shag in your living room. Don't worry."
"We're not going to shag anywhere, actually. At all." Draco corrected, in case there was any uncertainty on the matter. "We're done here."
"No, Draco. We're certainly not done." Granger crossed her arms and squared her shoulders determinedly. "I still have a lot to say."
"I've said all I needed to say. And frankly, so have you. I've heard enough bullshit for one day."
"Fine," Granger said through gritted teeth, giving him a withering look. "But just so you know, I think you're being really fucking immature about this. The man I loved never would have reacted like this."
Her last comment struck him where it hurt, but it was true. Pre-divorce Draco would never have been this much of a dick to her.
"Too bad that Draco isn't here anymore. So, scamper off to your room and leave me be." Draco waved her off with a dismissive flick of his hand. "Go knit some socks or read a book."
He knew how she loathed being accused of these things as if she wasn't an avid reader, or as if she hadn't knitted the most horrid hats and socks in fourth year when she'd been on a crusade to save house-elves from their supposed ignorance.
Granger snapped up her pink beaded bag from where it lay on the couch and marched past him with a clenched jaw and murder in her eyes.
At the door, she stopped and turned to him. "I was wrong thinking we might figure out a way back to each other now that all the secrets are out."
Draco barked out a bitter laugh at this. "Granger, you have no fucking idea how wrong you are. There's nothing left of who we were. There's nothing left to salvage because the people we were back then are long gone. You made sure of that when you showed me exactly how little you trusted me. You broke us the day you walked away from our marriage."
**FLASHBACK**
April 1999:
Draco had to admit that Granger was an excellent potions partner. Her notes were concise and accurate. And her brewing was a spellbinding thing to behold. In short, they were kicking arse with their team project. Even Slughorn couldn't find fault with their Elixir of pain—flawlessly brewed.
After bottling and labelling their shimmering green potion, they cleaned their workstation and sat back to watch as the others put the finishing touches on their potions.
Granger gave a near-imperceptible gasp when Draco sneaked a hand onto her exposed knee, restless with the need to touch her skin.
Her response made him shiver and he wondered what other kinds of sounds and reactions he could elicit from her.
Slowly he walked his fingers up under her skirt, over her thigh, and to her knickers, a blatant damp patch right over her cunt. For him.
"Well, well, well, Granger," he whispered so quietly that only she could hear and pointedly pressed his finger against the material right over her slit. "What have we here?"
Her cheeks flushed pink and she squirmed in her seat, looking mortified.
He fucking loved it.
"Are you telling me you're this aroused just from sitting next to me?"
"Don't flatter yourself," she rolled her eyes, but the bottom lip she was biting down on gave her away.
"Mmm..." He hummed and slipped a finger under the gusset of her knickers, swirling it through her soaked lips.
Her mouth popped open and she breathed the softest "Oh god," curling her fingers into fists on the table.
She didn't look at him.
Fighting a smirk, he slowly dipped a finger into her tight, wet heat. And sweet Circe, it was going to be exquisite when he finally got to fuck her.
Granger whined softly, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure.
"What a pleasant surprise..." He murmured, plunging deeper.
She subtly arched her hips into his hand to egg him on...and fuck! He was going to come in his pants if she didn't stop.
He could hear her breathing pick up, shallow and laboured as he started to slide his finger in and out of her while steadily increasing the pace. Her cunt made the most gorgeous slick sounds for him, and he had to bite his lip to keep from groaning.
Harder than steel, he knew he really needed to stop right now, before it was too late. He'd merely wanted to touch her briefly. He hadn't expected the minx to be so wet for him. Never thought she'd respond so eagerly to him while in class where anyone could catch them in the act.
This was all her fault...
But then Goldstein walked up to their table to talk to Granger, affording Draco an obvious sneer before blatantly ignoring him.
And now he had to make Granger come. He had to make her come right in front of Goldstein while the twat prattled on, oblivious to what was going on right under his nose.
Draco carefully pushed a second finger into Granger's spectacular cunt, watching as her face coloured even more. Her teeth dug deeply into her bottom lip and she shifted in an attempt to get him to stop.
But there was nothing in the world that could make him stop right now. And it was too late for her to turn shy now, when his fingers were already buried deep inside her.
He smirked diabolically, relishing how wet Granger was even as she tried to hold a conversation with Goldstein while trying to keep her composure from crumbling.
While attempting to remain as inconspicuous as possible, Draco pushed faster and harder into her heat, watching her reaction from the corner of his eye.
She was flushed and panting, fingers curling around the quill on her desk, while she pretended to listen to Goldstein with as much interest as she could feign.
He wondered if he'd be able to make her cry out when she came. Would that be inappropriate of him? And would he mind all that much if he got a week's detention for his transgression?
She shifted again, her unoccupied hand slipping under the desk to grab his hand to stop him just as her walls fluttered with a warning.
She was so close now. He could feel it. She just needed a little more from him, and being the gentleman that he was, he'd make sure she came well and proper. Even if it was the last thing he did. And he wanted her to come on his fingers right here, right now.
Exploiting a skill that had never let him down in the past, Draco curled his fingers deep inside of her, right up against that special spot at the front wall of her cunt, and dragged the pad of his thumb over her clit.
Her breath left her in a woosh and her body jolted in response. She snapped the quill in her hand and dropped the pieces carelessly onto the table.
Goldstein's eyes flicked down to the broken quill and a fleeting frown puckered his brows, but he continued to prattle on about N.E.W.T.s as Granger released her lip and clenched her jaw. She buried her face in her hands and a muffled groan tumbled from her lips before her walls fluttered again, just once, and then contracted suddenly and violently around his fingers. He could feel her body shudder and tense; could feel the slickness of her release on his hand, and then she subtly arched her hips, grinding over and over into his fingers as she chased her climax.
Holy shit!
She was fucking herself on his hand.
In front of Anthony Goldstein.
A surge of pride flooded him as reality dawned on him: He was making Hermione Granger come on his fingers...in class…and she wasn't stopping. In waves, the walls of her cunt contracted around his fingers, making him dizzy with lust.
He couldn't keep his eyes off her face, her cheeks stained pink and the muscles in her neck straining while she clung to her composure. Her cunt felt magnificent, and he shuddered just imagining the tight fit when he got to do this to her with his cock, instead of his fingers.
Just a couple of months ago, he would never have imagined he'd find her so fucking arousing, but he did. And it hurt so good.
"Are you sure you're all right, Hermione?" Goldstein asked, eyeing her with concern.
The dolt didn't have a clue what just happened. How was he this fucking oblivious?
Granger nodded vigorously, finally coming down from her climax. "I'm fine…" she croaked, studiously trying to avoid Draco's self-satisfied smirk. "Just stomach cramps."
"Do you want me to take you to the hospital wing?"
"No, no," she waved away his offer with what appeared to be annoyance. "That's quite all right."
"Are you sure? You look very flushed, you know? It'd be no trouble at all to take you."
"How about you sod off back to your table, Goldstein? Go bother someone else for a change," Draco sneered, unable to stand the prat encroaching on his victorious high for one moment longer.
"I wasn't speaking to you, Malfoy." Goldstein snapped, fixing Draco with a glare.
"Is it fun being this boring? You've managed to give Granger a stomach ache with your inane chatter."
Goldstein rolled his eyes at Draco before turning back to Granger with a touch of pink to his cheeks. "I'll talk to you later, Hermione."
"I'm sure she can't wait," Draco drawled and gave a fake yawn. He slipped his hand out of her knickers, idly wondering if he would be able to get away with licking her cum from his fingers without attracting attention? He looked around and saw some of the other students looking over at them. Probably not, then. It was such a shame. He was dying to know what Granger tasted like.
"You were very rude to him, Draco." Granger chastised when Goldstein finally walked off with a huff.
"Oh please," he rolled his eyes. It wasn't his problem Goldstein sported a semi every time he laid eyes on Granger. "He was asking for it."
"Arrogant Slytherin," she accused with an exasperated shake of her head, but she smiled despite herself.
He winked at her and smirked. "You like it."
"So, what happened to me only being allowed to come around your cock the first time you give me an orgasm?"
"I couldn't seem to help myself." He grinned devilishly. "Here I was, minding my own business when those legs of yours called to me, begging to be touched. And then you happened to be soaked for me. It was practically my duty to help you get off." He realized something then. "Where are your stockings, by the way?"
"I snagged them on my way out of my room this morning, and I didn't have time to fix them or change into a new pair, so I went without them." She shrugged. But the twinkle in her eye told him she was lying.
"You're telling me it had nothing to do with tempting me into giving you what you want?"
"Do I look like the kind of girl who would do that?" She feigned affront.
"Yes," he chuckled. "That look in your eyes tells me everything I need to know. You, Hermione Granger, wanted this to happen. Didn't you? You had it all planned out."
"I had to do something since you so cruelly refuse to help me get rid of my…tension."
"And have you…" He lowered his voice seductively, "You know...taken matters into your own hands since the last time I had my fingers inside you?"
She fixed him with an unimpressed look. "No."
He cocked a brow, not quite sure if he believed her.
"I haven't!" She insisted. "You told me I wasn't allowed to."
"Good. Then I suppose you deserved a little reward for your compliance. Didn't you?"
"I'll be as compliant as you need me to be if that's how you reward me," she told him with a coquettish smile and bit her lip.
"I think we should wait. The fewer rewards you get, the better our first time together will be. I need you to be starved for release."
"You're kidding, right?" She huffed. "That's so unfair. I'll be dead by then, especially if I have to endure more of this…" She indicated to his forearms. "You with your rolled-up sleeves, showing off your sexy forearms. And let's not mention that tattoo."
Draco's stomach flipped with her admission. Hermione Granger of all people had a thing for him with rolled-up sleeves. It gave him this strange warm feeling in his chest for some reason, and he couldn't quite put a name to it. All he knew was that he wanted to bottle this feeling and keep it forever.
He was such a fucking sap.
xxx
A few days later, well past curfew, while most students were tucked into their beds, Draco knocked on Granger's door. He chuckled in surprise when she flew out in a blur of curls and jumped him so hard that he stumbled back a few steps with her clinging bodily to him.
There was that warm, gravity-defying feeling again...
Granger pulled him in for a searing embrace, lips pressed hard against his, and unable to help himself, he grabbed a hold of her thighs, digging his fingers deep into the flesh.
"Gods, babe," he broke their kiss, cataloguing the beautiful face that had been on his mind the entire day. "I've missed you." He let go of one of her thighs, tucked a stray curl behind her ear and cupped her cheek. "And I've missed your mouth just as much. You taste sinful." And then he pushed her up against the wall.
Draco kissed Granger like he had all the time in the world, dragging his tongue with lazy strokes against hers, aching to get even closer. He was drowning in her, and no matter what he did, he couldn't get enough of her. And fuck if she wasn't the best thing that's ever happened to him.
They continued their languid exploration for what felt like hours, but eventually, drunk off of her and breathless, he had to pull away before he fucked her right up against this wall where anyone could stumble upon them. "Let's go to the Astronomy tower," he suggested, dipping in for one last taste. "I want to take you stargazing."
With heavy lids and a lazy smile, Granger nodded her agreement. She straightened her clothes when he lowered her carefully to her feet, and then tucked her arm through his. "Lead the way."
It was quite cold when they finally made it up to the tower, but the sky was clear and millions of stars were winking at them like they were in on their secret.
Granger pulled a thick blanket from that ridiculous little beaded bag of hers and threw it over them, tucking herself tightly into his side.
Draco wrapped an arm around her, placed a kiss on the crown of her head, and rested his chin there. Gods, he loved her riotous hair, despite what he'd told her in the past. And in that moment, he was so content that he'd be willing to stay here with her forever. "Tell me about your parents, love," he whispered into her hair.
"Mmm, what do you want to know?" She murmured.
"How are they as parents? Are they loving and doting? Are they very strict with you?" He knew her parents weren't around. She'd briefly mentioned that they'd moved out of the country, but hadn't elaborated. "What happened to them?"
She burrowed herself deeper into him for more heat, and his stomach gave another flip. This strange new feeling he'd started to notice lately was something that only happened when he was with her or when he thought about her. And he liked it very much.
"They were…are," she corrected herself, "Fantastic parents. Supportive, loving, and intelligent," she said with reverence in her voice. "They are the reason I love books so much. We had tons of them at home, and over the years we shamelessly added to our already impressive collection." She sighed wistfully. "My mother once read me this book, The Secret Garden, by Frances Hodgson Burnett, and I remember how spellbound I'd been. I couldn't wait to hear more. So, one night when I was supposed to be sleeping, I opened the book and continued to read until dawn. My mother found me the next morning, asleep with the finished book in my hand. She didn't even scold me when I was too tired to get ready for school. She just told me books were a special kind of magic. I'll never forget it because those were some of the truest words she's ever spoken. And that's when I developed my love for books."
"And your father?" He prompted, painfully aware of how his childhood, and parents, differed from hers. "What is he like?"
"My father is incredibly funny and kind. Always has the best jokes." She puffed a laugh and shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, my mother appreciates a good joke as much as the next person, but she was terrible at telling them. Could never manage to finish the joke before ruining the punch line."
Draco hummed his acknowledgement.
"They're dentists. Did you know?"
He shook his head, unsure of what dentists were in the first place. He didn't know much about her parents, besides the fact that they were muggles.
"Or, at least I think they are. The last time I saw them in Perth, they were still practising dentistry."
"Why Australia?"
She shrugged. "I guess I thought it was far enough away from it all. Australia seemed like it might be less affected by the war."
"I still don't understand, love. How did they end up moving?"
"I...uhm," she hesitated, sniffling. And gods, now he'd made her sad by probing into personal matters. "I modified their memories before Harry, Ron, and I left to track down all the Horcruxes. I was afraid the Death Eaters might find my parents and torture them so they could get to me. And I would have done anything to protect them. I would have given up all our secrets to save them. And even then, I knew my parents would likely still be killed. So, I removed myself from their memories and sent them away."
"And you've not tried restoring their memories?"
"I have, yes, but the memory modification was performed with too much accuracy. I wasn't sure I'd survive the war, and I wanted to be certain that my parents would never be able to recall a single detail about me if they were ever found and interrogated. That they'd never have to experience the loss of their daughter if I didn't survive the war. And I guess that was the problem—the spell worked as well as I'd needed it to at the time, but I waited too long to reverse it. Even the best specialists said there was no hope."
"Fuck." He cursed under his breath, hating himself for this. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I hate that my actions caused you so much heartache."
"Doesn't help to blame yourself, Draco." She looked up at him with unshed tears welling in her eyes. "It would have had to happen, regardless of your choices. The other Death Eaters would still have posed a threat. At least my parents seemed happy when I last saw them."
"They didn't recognize you? Not even a little bit?"
"A few weeks before our eighth year started, I showed up at their practice for an appointment. I wanted to see if they'd recognize me if they saw me face to face. But there hadn't even been a flicker of recognition in their eyes. To them, I had just been another patient. Not their daughter."
"I'm so, so fucking sorry." He said again. "For all of it. For the Death Eaters' and my part in it. For being so cruel to you. For watching you scream and convulse on our drawing-room floor and doing nothing to stop it. For never saying thank you after you testified at my trial. For every single evil thing that ever came out of my mouth."
"Stop apologizing." She insisted, tipping her head to look up at him. "I've forgiven you a long time ago."
"I don't deserve your forgiveness."
"That's not your choice to make, Draco. And you do deserve it. I am honestly so amazed by the person you are when all the bullshit bravado and the walls you hide behind are stripped away. You're no longer the cruel boy who sneered, strutted about with arrogance and spouted blood purity wherever he went."
"And you're not the annoying know-it-all that I thought you were. I can't believe how funny and passionate and sexy you are. You're so fucking beautiful inside and out. How did I never see you?"
"You don't think I'm a know-it-all anymore?" She lifted a brow in challenge.
"Well, okay," he conceded. "You're still a know-it-all."
She snorted. "And you're still a cocky prat."
"But I'm your cocky prat." Gods, he wanted to be hers forever if only that were possible.
Their teasing brought some much-needed levity back into their conversation and they spent the rest of their night discussing less gloomy topics, like their favourite books and authors, their plans for a career, and even his love of Quidditch. The latter led to them discussing her fear of flying—on brooms, in particular. He was surprised to find out she'd flown out of Gringotts on the back of a Ukrainian Ironbelly during the Horcrux hunt with Potter and Weasley. And like her fear of the spider during their detention with Slughorn, he found her fear of flying a broom ironic.
They spent a long time snogging after their conversation, lazy and indulgent like earlier. The shift in their connection was unmistakable lately. They were more comfortable with each other, more secure, and as good as it felt, he didn't know how it could end in anything but pain.
They were slowly losing sight of the fact that this thing between them was only meant to be temporary, and even while he knew he needed to pull away right now, he did the exact opposite.
The intensity of their kisses, the heat in his belly when they pushed their bodies as close as possible while remaining clothed, ratcheted up to an unbearable level tonight. He didn't know how much more of this he could take before his resolve crumbled and he gave her what she begged for every time they were alone together. He loved snogging Granger; enjoyed dragging his lips over her skin; enjoyed sucking on her nipples and touching her breasts. He wanted to combust every time she moaned for him, arched into him and trembled when she was close to the edge. He'd never experienced this level of intimacy without the act of sex.
The number of times in a single day he thought about what it would feel like when he pushed inside of her for the first time was becoming ridiculous. He was struggling to focus in class, during mealtimes, and alone in his bed. He was constantly daydreaming of sex. Having sex with her. Since their brief kiss in the supply cupboard of the potions classroom, he hadn't so much as touched another witch. Didn't react to a single coy smirk, a flutter of lashes or even the brazen propositions. He wanted Granger, and no other witch would do. But it's been the longest he's gone without sex since he'd lost his virginity. And he was pretty sure he was going to develop calluses on his wand hand if they didn't have sex soon.
But contrastingly, he was scared shitless of actually going through with it. Not because his parents could find out—which was a big concern—but because he knew shagging Granger would irrevocably change things for him. His feelings for her were teetering on the edge of...something stupid. And they'd already established what a bad idea that would be.
Draco felt like he was on a tiny boat, hurtling towards the edge of a waterfall and he couldn't do anything to stop the inevitable disaster from happening.
On the other hand, he felt like there was still a small possibility of backing out if they haven't shagged yet. Like he could stop himself from falling over the edge...if he wanted to. But did he truly want things to end when it's felt so good up until now?
He knew exactly to which side things were leaning for him. For Granger, too, if he had to be honest. And yet, he knew it would be a disaster no matter what they chose to do. It was going to hurt in the end.
"Do you have any idea what's going on between Ginny and Blaise?" Granger asked a while later, her head resting on his chest while he played with her hair. "She's been very secretive lately. And Blaise seems to be going out of his way to flirt with her."
Draco barked a laugh despite himself, his mood lifting. "Those two are shagging like rabbits. And, frankly, it's nauseating. He keeps bragging about it."
"They are?"
"Mmhmm," he hummed a confirmation, "I actually walked in on them the other day."
"Oh, gods!" Granger chuckled, scrunching her nose.
"I certainly learned my lesson and I will be knocking next time."
"I'm making a mental note as we speak," she grinned, tipping her head up to look at him. "Do you know if things are serious between them? As I said, Ginny's been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about her love life lately."
"With Blaise, it's difficult to say." Draco shrugged. "He's usually the type to shag and move on. So, for him to keep shagging Weasley for close to two months is quite unusual for him."
"Almost two months?"
"Yes. I think it was right around the time you almost got crushed by that Devil's snare in Herbology. When we were still trying to avoid each other."
"You mean when you were trying to avoid me." She corrected.
"Semantics," Draco waved away her comment. "Anyway, I think Weasley's got a strong enough personality to keep up with Blaise. She doesn't take shit from him and he just loves that."
"Right..." Granger nodded contemplatively. "I think she and I are due a conversation. She can't expect me to dish out details when she keeps mum about her sex life."
"Well, no, but to be fair, we don't have a sex life to talk about, so..."
"And who's fault is that?"
"You know I'm trying not to rush things, love." He flushed. "And you know it's not because I don't want you. Gods, I want you. If you only knew how many times a day I think about shagging you. But it scares the shit out of me."
"I know, love…" She offered him a sympathetic smile.
"I'm so close to doing something stupid. And having sex with you on top of that would only make it so much worse. How do you expect me to walk away from you after that? When we know my parents won't allow us to be together."
"You know, Draco." She smiled sadly, sitting up. She gently pushed his hair out of his eyes. "We've had fun these last few weeks with these amazing secret dates whenever we got the chance. I loved snogging you, touching you and getting to know you. But we'll never be more than a secret if your parents' approval means that much to you. And this thing will only ever be temporary like you said. I know we've talked about this before, but what if, when the time comes, we only hurt ourselves even more because we perpetuated something that was always doomed to fail? Simply because we chose to ignore the reality of it. Because we were too foolish to stop while things were still good. I don't want the memories of us to be tainted by your parents' ire or either of our broken hearts. The lashing out that will be sure to follow."
Gods, that was exactly it. It was all true and as painful as it was, she was right. This had to stop. Right now. Continuing with their relationship would be unfair to both of them. It would be devastating to walk away once they fell in love.
Draco sat up too, and pulled Granger close to his side, kissing her temple. "I guess this is it, then?"
She pulled away to look up at him, eyes sad.
There was a roaring in his ears and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest. They had to do this now as she said. Before things turned ugly. He just wished there was a way that he could keep her forever.
"This is it," she agreed and leaned in for one last kiss. "Will you walk me back to my room?"
"Of course, I will, love."
A/N: You knew this was coming…
*hides behind the couch*
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