Disclaimer time - ok . . .blah, blah no, I do not own Draco (much to my great dismay), Hermione or any other characters you may recognize, if I did the movies would get far more interesting, trust me. This chapter is part 3 in what started as an absurdly long chapter, now broken up into 3. I need to say thanks to, Heather, my amazing beta reader, who brings a sense of order to my overly excessive use of adverbials, an almost obsessive impulse to insert commas and the ever-irresistible run-on sentences, I'm so fond of, and without whom this story wouldn't be nearly as readable ;) . She deserves a special cookie for putting up with my constant questions on the last scene in this chapter, lol. And of course, any typos & grammatical errors are, as usual, my fault . . . sorry. Anyway, let's skip anymore of the AN & get back into the story . . .
Chapter 25 – Just Another Night at Hogwarts
A few minutes later after hastily throwing on their clothes, Infinity & Snape only slightly red-faced, opened the door, quickly shooing in the two teenagers into the room. Sitting down on a pair of chairs, Hermione kept her eyes glued to the floor, completely at a loss of words. Really, what could you say at a time like this? Draco, on the other hand, couldn't stop himself from snickering occasionally.
"Enough, Mr Malfoy." Snape ground out the words, still trying to maintain some semblance of authority.
He only smirked in reaction.
Listening to what he suspected was a highly abbreviated version of the nights earlier events, Snape stared at him for a long moment, taking into account his glassy and bloodshot eyes, before swearing violently under his breath. "The stupidity of youth never ceases to astound me," his words were crisply enunciated so that no one, especially Draco, would mistake his anger. "I know damn well that you are fully aware of the consequences of your actions and if you are deliberately trying to kill yourself, than I'd appreciate you doing it on your time."
Draco scoffed, "I wouldn't have guessed you to be such an alarmist. Considering everything else going on around here, the fact that I indulged a bit isn't a reason to hit the panic button."
"'Everything else'," the older man bit out," is exactly the problem, if you had been unfortunate enough to encounter your father or any one of his 'associates' in your present state, you'd be hard pressed to defend yourself in any way and that degree of irresponsibility is inexcusable."
Draco slumped lower in his chair. "Whatever. You know I can take care of myself, I know you're trying to show off for your bird and I don't appreciate being used to do it."
Resisting his impulse to ground his teeth at the all too characteristic behavior in the younger man, he forced himself to remember that despite the attitude Draco was still just an injured teenager. Snape gave Infinity a significant glance. "Hmmm, perhaps this would be a good time for Professor Owens to take Miss Granger to the Gryfindor Tower?"
"Don't be so paranoid, I said she wasn't involved. I made sure he didn't see her, so relax."
Snape turned to give him an examining stare, before he shook his head wearily and he sat back down on the bed. "Do I even want to know why she was there?"
Draco smirked, brushing a few tendrils of hair back and off his face, "look, it wasn't like I planned this out or anything. When Lucius showed up, I made sure she was safe and out of sight, before I dealt with him. What else do you want from my life?"
"Don't tempt me . . . " Snape retorted under his breath, before asking, "well, what was it this time?"
"Cructius, of course," was the immediate reply. In an off-handed and almost bored tone of voice, Draco added for Infinity's benefit, "it's one of my father's particularly favorite curses when he wants to remind of my place in this world." Both women felt a chill run up their spines at the casualness of his words. Infinity, knowing the short and long term effects of the Cructius curse from harsh personal experience was especially disturbed. Snape just sighed, wishing not for the first time that he was wrong, as he got up to retrieve the Sedo Versum potion that he had already prepared. Crossing the room, he handed it to Draco.
"Did he at least give you any information that I should pass on? "
"To the order? Nope, just the usual threats." Draco glanced at the bottle for a moment, absently reading the label before slipping it into his pocket. Standing up he shrugged his shoulders. "He did seem a bit on edge, so something is definitely up, but I've got nothing specific to report."
Hermione gave him a sharp look, but he just arched an eyebrow in response. He held out a hand to help her out of her seat, before turning back to Infinity and Snape, "have fun tonight," and smirked, leading Hermione out of the room.
"Ummm, good night," Hermione offered with a quick wave and an uncertain smile pasted on her face, before Draco slammed the door shut behind them.
Infinity's head fell foward, "well, ok that was awkward. Just out of curiosity, do people regularly barge into your room whenever they like? Is this something I should be concerned about?"
Snape turned and gave her a very dry look that spoke volumes. "I'll pick up a new lock tomorrow at Hogsmead."
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Back in Draco's room, Hermione collapsed on the bed. "Well, that was certainly . . . interesting." Draco smirked at her as he measured out a portion of the Sedo Versum potion, before he swallowed, making a slight grimace at the bitter taste. "I've got to say Draco, hanging out with you is never boring."
Stretching out on the bed next to her, he laughed. "Well, I try not to disappoint."
Leaning on her side, Hermione studied his face, glad to see him looking more relaxed and back to his normal shade of pale since the encounter with his father earlier in the day. "And now you have some explaining to do."
Draco turned his head to face her, sardonically arching an eyebrow with a faint smile gracing his lips. He could only imagine the sort of questions going though her all too intelligent mind and that only meant trouble for him. He was also aware that he really wasn't in any shape to create a series of fictional answers that would be believable enough to satisfy her, not to mention the fact that he was growing tired of the ever-growing web of deceit that was his life. On top of everything else, the Sedo Versum potion was rapidly turning what was left of his brain into mush. "Whatever do you mean?"
Hermione propped herself up upon one elbow, "don't play coy with me Draco, it doesn't suit you. I want to know about you, Snape and the order."
He sighed. "Ahhh, Hermione, I can always count on you to ask the big questions."
"Just as I can always rely on you to try and avoid answering them," she shot back.
He rolled onto his back. "Snape's in the order, but you already know that. Theoretically his specialty is deatheaters, working as a double agent, gathering intell on their movements, strengths and weaknesses, etc but his creditability has been shot to hell since our first year." At her look of surprise, Draco scoffed, "oh come on, Hermione, I would have expected you of all people to have figured that out by now. Opposing Quirrell, when he had Voldemort on the back of his head and saving Saint Potter during that bloody Quidditch match, didn't exactly endear him to the deatheaters, you know."
"So what does that have to do with you?" She was already half expecting the answer she received, but her words were still layered with a certain note of disbelief.
Draco shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes, refusing to meet hers. For a long moment, he debated where to go with this – tell her the truth and risk her derision and then what if she actually believed him or just lie off his ass, as was his natural inclination. Ehhh, what the fuck, why not? "Well, where do you think Snape gets his info from?"
Hermione braced herself up on her free arm, half lifting her body up above his prone figure to stare down at him. "You?!?! You're giving Snape and the order information on the deatheaters?" Try as she might, she was unable to keep her sudden shock out of her voice.
Opening one eye, Draco peered up at her wryly. "Hmmm, I'm not exactly sure if I should take that as an insult or a strange backwards compliment."
"Ummm, a compliment, definitely a compliment. I . . . I never would have guessed, Draco." She stammered out, struggling to assimilate this new information into her ever-expanding perception of him, because just when she thought she understood him, he exposed another shadowy piece of his soul.
Draco frowned slightly as he watched her expression begin to rapidly change and he damn well knew what that meant – she was thinking again and only Merlin knew what wild theories she was concocting at this moment. "Look, before you get any ideas, remember my loving father," his voice grew sharp with sarcasm, "lives for the power and intrigue his position affords him. Any sabotage and havoc I can create is it's own pleasure."
Hermione didn't even attempt to hide her delighted smile and seeing it Draco winced in dismay, fighting the impulse to smack himself in the head. The last thing he needs is to have her thinking he was some sort of good guy, this was almost as bad as having her convinced that he was a proven deatheater. Draco mentally cursed his wayward tongue. The worst part was, of course, that he knew better to get involved in this conversation when he was still so fucked up and patently unable to think straight. Sighing, he sat up, "look, it's getting really late now, Hermione, and I need to crash soon, so it might be a good time for you to sneak back to your room." He picked up a folder off his nightstand and held it out to her, "these are the notes I was telling you about earlier, I figure you can look them over and then let me know what you think, ok? Take the cloak, just in case, but you should be fine."
She laughed. "I never thought, I'd see the day when Draco Mafoy, bad boy extraordinaire, would kick a girl out of his room after hours."
"Yeah, yeah laugh it up, but considering that I'm in no shape for more interesting activities, it seems to be the smartest option." Bracing himself up on one arm, he leaned over her, dropping a light kiss on her unsuspecting lips.
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Walking back to her dorm, wearing Draco's invisibility cloak, her mind was awhirl with her thoughts, flitting from one memory to the next, seemingly unable to focus on just one as she felt a desperate need to try and understand this man who was increasingly becoming so central in her life. Reaching her door, she suddenly tumbled to her knees, the hood of the cloak falling to her shoulders and lightly touched her bruised temple, sharply inhaling at the pain. In the back of her mind, she registered the all too familiar outcry she heard behind her, as she instead settled herself, Indian style, on the stone floor. Reluctantly, she forced herself to look up at the now visible figure of Harry, who was currently rubbing his thigh. "I suppose that you, at the very least, have a good reason to be sitting outside my room at this hour, invisible, no less?" She made no effort to hide her irritation with him - it was late, she was tired and he was the last person she wanted to see at this moment.
"Me? What the hell are you doing out so late? And where did you get that cloak of invisibility from or do I even have to ask?" Harry stood up, looming over in a stance that he knew could be considered intimidating, especially combined with his tone of voice, but he couldn't stop the hateful words pouring from his mouth. "You were with him, weren't you?!?" He sounded bitter, he knew, but in his confused anger all he could see were visions of her with him and it was enough to drive him insane.
Sighing, Hermione ran her hand through her hand, "Harry, what do you want from me? Do you even know? What I do on my time has nothing to do with you, especially since you've made it more than clear that I'm irrelevant in your life. And now you think you can what - dictate who I spend my time with, when you wanted nothing to do with me in months? I'm sorry, but it doesn't work that way." She rose to her feet at a loss for what to say to him.
Harry saw her ready to leave and almost snapped, he didn't know how to stop her, only that it was suddenly vital to his existence that he did, because he didn't know what he would do if she left. "That's not true, Hermione, things have just been crazy and out of control, lately. You should know how important you are to me, how important you've always been."
She shook her head, "maybe I was, once, a long time ago, but face it, Harry, if you hadn't seen me with Draco, would you really be here, arguing with me? I mean come on, even before you and Ron took off without me on this last stupid mission, you've been ignoring me for months, only deigning to speak to me when you needed my help for something and up to now, I've allowed you to get away with it. You don't get to suddenly change your mind and be my best friend, now that you see me finally moving on."
He stared at her, almost unable to comprehend what she was saying, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew there were words, things he could say to persuade her listen to him, but they refused to surface. She was drifting out of reach, right in front of him, and he didn't know how to stop her – this couldn't be happening! Anger began to well up inside of him, it was irrational, he knew, but he was beginning not to care. He looked at her and for a long moment and all he could see was him, his hand unconsciously slid down into his pocket, wrapping tightly around his wand and he pulled it out in one smooth motion. Hermione's eyes widened as she watched his face twist into something ugly and unfamiliar and began backing away from him as he waved his wand. There had been many times in the past when she had been afraid for Harry, but this was the first time when she'd ever been afraid of him.
"Harry . . . " Hermione's voice was hesitant, as she mentally scrambled to try and figure out a way to smooth over this potential situation. She couldn't bring herself to believe that he would actually hurt her, but with the unpredictable way he was acting, she didn't want to take unnecessary risks either. "Put your wand down, please." Changing tactics, she tried to subtly take out her own wand, only to freeze as he shook his head menacingly, sighing she raised her hands peacefully and took a step towards him. "Harry, what are you doing? Are you really going to curse me?"
"Curse you? No, but you are going to listen to me and if you insist on making me force you to listen then I will. Dammit, Hermione, you owe me that much at the very fucking least." He jerked his wand back so that it was no longer pointing directly at her.
"Wait a minute, I owe you, since when? Are you out of your bloody mind? You lied to me, betrayed me, pretended you were dead, left me with that guilt and yet I somehow owe you?" Hermione couldn't believe he was serious and Harry winced, because when she put it that way, it did sound bad, but she just refused to let him explain, so it wasn't like she was entirely off the hook either. He opened his mouth to tell her that, but she cut him off. "I'm not going to stand here and argue this with you. So why don't you find your precious girlfriend and whine to her? Because I'm through here." Brushing past him, Harry grabbed her arm. Hermione clenched her fist and was ready to swing when she heard - .
"Hey, is there a problem here?" Hermione turned with a grateful smile to see Seamus with one arm propped against the far wall, the other relaxing in a loose grip at his side, slightly behind them, half leaning, half standing, somewhat slumped, but apparently ready to intercede if necessary.
"No problem here, Seamus. We're got some stuff to discuss, so just walk away." Harry ground out, his hand subtly tightening on her arm and she winced, fully aware that she would have a bruise later on tonight.
"Sorry, Harry, but I can't do that. I'm not going to pretend or demand to know what's going on, it's none of my business, but I can't just ignore this, either. Whatever you've got 'to discuss' it can wait until tomorrow." His voice was surprisingly steady, considering his intense reluctance to get involved. The last thing he needed was to get stuck in the crossfire between Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger and Harry bloody Potter, but at the same time he knew he would be able to sleep tonight if he didn't do something, besides if Draco found out he might never get to sleep again.
Harry gave him a hard stare, before looking back down at Hermione's face. "Don't think for a minute that this is over. One way or another you are going to listen to me," and he shook her arm for emphasis, before stalking off.
Rubbing her arm slightly, she turned to Seamus, "thanks, things were getting . . a little weird there."
"Weird," he paused on the word, almost like he was tasting the flavor of it, "yeah, well that's one way of putting it, I suppose. Anyway, I owed you – from earlier tonight, I mean, I was being an ass. Ummm, I've never really been one to give advice, Hermione, but I hope you know what you're doing with this, because I don't know about you, but from where I'm standing it looks like things could get very messy." He shrugged his shoulders, pushing himself off the wall as he waked past her, dropping his head. A couple of feet away, he stopped somewhat uncertainly, "just . . . l don't know, just be careful, I guess." His voice was hushed in the silence and he didn't bother turning around, but continued down the hall. Hermione watched him for a moment, before letting herself into her room and quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.
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Not everyone, however, was quite so lucky. Draco sat up resting against the wall, seemingly oblivious to the thick layers of dirt and grime on the floor, knees drawn up against his chest and his body folded inward, the thin worn tee shirt and jeans doing little to protect him from the bone chilling cold. His hair hung loosely around his face; his eyes closed, a study in concentration, as he tried desperately to fight the fear rising steadily within him. He knew this room all too well, and the fact that his wand was nowhere in sight and he was dressed in his usual muggle clothes he wore when he was only relatively safe at Hogwarts meant this 'session' was going to be especially bad. Then he heard the footsteps, exactingly precise like a metronome, a harbinger of what was to come, but the direction seemed to waver, then the voices started. It was always the same, this is how it always began.
"Stupid boy, doesn't know his place."
"He'll wind up dead, just like that dead sister of his, neither of them was ever worth anything, anyway."
"You're all alone now, boy, you're going to die all alone and you have no one to blame, but yourself."
Laughter rang out among the voices, the Malfoy mansion had more than it's share of vocal portraits, all willing and eager to have their chance to condemn him one last time. Draco's right hand, his empty wand hand, clenched reflectively, nails digging half moon cuts into the flesh of his palm, he never even felt the warm blood spill onto the floor next to him. Finally unable to resist, he snarled, "shut up! Shut up! Shut the FUCK UP!!!" The words were raw sounding and painfully harsh, as if they had ripped themselves bloody from his throat.
"Oh, you didn't really delude yourself into believing you could escape your fate, did you?"
"That'd be precious – if it wasn't so damned pathetic."
The voices grew louder, drowning out the ever-present steps. He closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands, oblivious of the bloody stains.
"Man, I hate to say it, but I'm glad I'm not you right now."
Draco's eyes flew open in confusion and he stared for a long moment at the figure casually standing next to him. "Seamus? What the hell are you doing here?"
"Hey, I figured I'd pop in to see how you were holding up, but if you don't want me here, I can always leave – " His voice trailed off as he started to fade away.
"Wait, no, I didn't mean it like that, I just meant . . ." Draco struggled, trying to find a reasonable explanation for his presence here of all the god-forsaken corners of hell. "I meant what are you doing here, in Malfoy fucking mansion, in this fucking room. Do you even have any idea what Lucius would do to you if he found you here?"
"Yeah, I was meaning to tell you that – you and I, we - well we've never really been what'd you call friends, but we've always been relatively cool, but your father – damn! Draco, he's a bastard." Seamus's image seemed to sharpen in the dim lighting, as he looked around the room. "This place is fucking filthy, you know."
Draco actually cracked a wry smirk, "tell me something I don't know, like maybe why you're here, for starters?"
Seamus look up with a genuine smile, "oh, sorry, I forgot that you've been in here for awhile." His smile faded pensively, "being dead can do that to you."
"Dead?" Despite himself, Draco went white - he knew that he didn't want to hear anymore.
"Yep, I never even saw it coming, Avada Kedavraed right in the back by one of our own." The Gryffindor shook his head and looking more careful, Draco realized that he could easily see right through him. A chill went ran down his spine, as in a distant corner of his mind, he wondered he could have possibly not noticed that in the first place. Was he really that far gone?
"I'm . . . I'm sorry, Seamus, " despite his fumbling words, they were heartfelt. What else did you say to the recently departed, what else could you say?
The ghost raised his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Don't worry about it, it's not why I came, I just wanted to say," he paused before bursting out with, "man, I wish you'd just told us. All this time, we hated you and you were on our side all along and none of us knew it. Meanwhile the person we thought we could trust was the traitor. It doesn't matter now 'cause we lost the war and everyone is dead, dying or about to die, but damn Draco – it didn't have to be this way!!!".
"Everyone?!?!" His voice was bordering on panicked, but he had to know. "Where's Hermione?!?" Draco demanded franticly. Seamus' eyes opened wide at the question and he started to respond, but not fast enough as he began to fade out of existence. "No," Draco breathed, staring around the room in a stunned state of disbelief. "Seamus . . Seamus, GODDAMNIT! Get back here! You can't do this to me, goddamnit, you can't lay something like that on me and not tell me if SHE'S safe! What about Hermione?!?! Goddamnit Seamus, what about Hermione?!?" His eyes hardened dangerously into silvers of cold steel, as his fist moved of it's own volition, slamming into the stonewall with an explosive fury where he had last seen the ghost. He welcomed the intense pain. His forehead fell on the coolness of the wall, one hand braced flat far above his head, the other still bleeding against the stone, his rage temporarily leashed back under his unstable control.
Staring down at the floor, he was oblivious to the blood pooling near his foot, his vision was too blinded with images of her. He wanted to deny his all-consuming terror, wanted desperately to believe that she was safe, but knew too well how stubborn she was, knew too well that she would never run from the cause. As much as he needed to believe otherwise, he knew with a devastating certainty that she must be dead and that knowledge broke something deep inside of him. Numbly he slumped to the ground, nerveless fingers falling beside him. Distantly he could hear the footsteps, again, drawing ever closer, but it now lacked the power to truly penetrate his consciousness.
"He's coming, you know. If you don't get up, he will kill you this time." The voice came from somewhere above him, but Draco didn't bother to look, he didn't have to. Instead, he picked up his hand, idly wondering how many bones he broke, as he gave the raw flesh a perfunctory glance over.
"If I ask, you're going to tell me she's dead, aren't you?" His voice when he finally forced himself to speak was cool and detached. Unless you listened carefully, you'd never catch the faint trace of grief and desolation running through his words.
"Draco, we don't have time for this – " the voice urged him to his feet.
"Answer the fucking QUESTION, Snape!" His fiercely held control slipped and his voice was deathly low, as he unconsciously drew his fingers into a fist tight enough to reopen the half healed damage he'd already inflicted upon it. "Is she or isn't she dead?!?"
Looking down at the younger man, Snape's bruised face twisted into a mask of sorrow. "I wish I didn't have to be the one to tell you, but if you're asking, then I have to say, yes, she is dead." The words were hushed, but that did nothing to lessen their impact, perhaps that made them even worse. It was as if by saying them, he had sucked whatever life left inside the room away. For one long moment the former professor thought that the boy's heart had suddenly stopped, he froze so very still. The room grew increasingly dark and dangerously oppressive, the walls seeming to be closing inward.
Draco nodded his head in acknowledgement and said nothing, there was nothing left to say. Starring at the ground, he realized that Snape was still talking, although he didn't fully understand why he bothered when it was more than obvious that there was no longer a point. He didn't have a wand, even if he wanted to, there was nothing he could do. So in the grand scheme of things, whether or not his father successfully managed to kill him this time seemed almost irrelevant. When he eventually looked up, he noticed Snape was gone and the walls were closing in and shrugged his shoulders carelessly. It took much effort to give a damn one way or another, he forgotten that lesson once before and had been punished beyond belief for it. And meanwhile, the steps grew louder and ominously closer . . .
"ding dong, the witch is dead
ding dong, the bitch is dead
just another one you couldn't save"
Great, now they were singing. . . and badly at that. "You could at least be a little more creative, you know, you dead bastards." He yelled out bitterly. The small room grew smaller, not that he particularly cared, dying of suffocation was probably a better way to go, anyway, but he could definitely have gone without the bloody Greek chorus from Hades. Absently, he checked his pockets for a pack of smokes, only to break out into an impressive cursing streak when he realized that he had cigarettes, but no implement of fire – the height of futility.
Feeling a sight breeze, he noticed that a fairy substantial portion of the floor had suddenly vanished, leaving only a narrow L – shaped strip, which he was sitting on, if he stretched out his legs they would easily dangle down into the abyss. Leaning down slightly, the darkness stretched out for what seemed like forever and for all he knew, maybe it did. This was the lower basement level, but with his family history and that of this house, very little would surprise him. He was, however, started by the voice that came from the darkness.
"Give up Draco, once again, you failed, it seems to be your lot in life." The voice seemed to sigh, before taking on a more familiar and resigned tone. "Ahhh, Mr Malfoy, here we find ourselves again. It's ok, my boy, it's ok to just let go, sometimes. You made a valiant effort, I applaud you, I truly do, but alas it seems greatness is not fated for all of us. You're lost to us now, such a pity, when you really could have gone so far." He froze, the disappointment in that voice, cut him deep, reopening wounds not even given a chance to heal yet. Dumbledore, the person who convinced him years ago that he could make a difference - that he actually had a choice in how he chose to live his life. The first person to give him hope had finally lost faith in too. Staring deeper into the darkness, he noticed from a distance that seemed incredible far away, a spark of light . . . as he focused on it, the vague shape began to take on a familiar shape .
Draco gasped as he watched Hogwarts, the safest place in the wizarding world, burning to the ground and with it, he realized burned away any last chance of Hermione's survival, because if she had been anywhere, it would have been there. What is it they say about being careful when staring into the abyss, because it might stare back? He watched the flames lick higher and he imagined that he could feel the heat of the fire, he could certainly smell the acidic smoke. . . For the first time since he woke up to find himself back in his cell, he realized that he finally had an option, he had a way out. Standing up, his back pressed against the wall, he could hear the steps coming louder and faster than ever before, if he was going to do it, he had to do it now.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped out, only to be held back by a hand, he couldn't shake. "Let go, damn you, let me go!"
"No, Draco I won't let go. I will never let go, remember I promised you that you weren't alone anymore," a gentle voice whispered in his ear. Stunned, he felt his muscles go weak as he turned around to see cinnamon eyes and a cloud of brunette hair. Hermione - her fingers coiled deep in his shirt, hanging on to him, dragging him back from the edge.
"Hermione," he whispered, his arms wrapping around her tightly of their own accord, leaning into the wall behind her, he held her to him, not quite able to believe, but unwilling to step away. Burying his face into her hair, he breathed in deep the scent that was Hermione, "is this real?"
"As real as you want it to be," was her answer as she ran her hand through his hair, seeking to give whatever comfort she could. And for one impossibly long moment, he allowed himself to simply revel in the feel that was Hermione, before her words fully sunk into his mind.
He pulled back with a painfully wistful smile on his lips, "this is the dream then." His fingertips delicately traced out the curve of her mouth, "I understand now, I wish like hell I didn't, but I understand. I'm sorry, Hermione, I'm so damn sorry." Pressing his forehead against hers, he fiercely hugged her, in the back of his mind, he heard the step suddenly stop just outside and looking over her shoulder, he saw the door that he couldn't believe he missed beforehand. "I've got to go now, love – I'll see you soon." And he gently put her aside and began waking along the edge.
"No, I won't let go, I promised you," she insisted, tugging on the edge of his shirt.
He winced, as he forced himself to pull his shirt loose. "Hermione, this isn't real. You're dead and I'm about to die, this is how it has to be."
"Nope, you're wrong and I won't let go. You need me to hold on to you." She stubbornly refused to release him, instead she firmly slid her fingers between his and held on.
If he hadn't felt like his heart was about to break, he might have laughed, because he could totally see her reacting this way. "Hermione, you have to let go, I want you to let go."
She eyed him suspiciously," are you sure?" Biting her lip, she continued to hesitate, "I don't want to let go." Her fingers curled deeper into his shirt and he could feel them digging into his flesh. "I can hold you," she offered, "I can keep you safe."
Looking down into her serious cinnamon eyes, he wanted nothing more than for her to hold him forever, but the creaking of the door caught his attention and he knew who was waiting that way. Forcing himself to step away from, he brushed a light kiss over her forehead. "It's the way it has to be."
"Is it? Is it really?" Her voice was painfully silent in the emptiness. "Draco, do you believe in fairy tales?"
Draco closed his eyes and shook his head. "Fairy tales, Hermione? Fairy tales?"
He stood still for a moment, impossibly torn between facing the opening the door, and all that it entailed, and her open arms, the only place he really wanted to be and spun around in frustration.
She was gone and so he turned back to face the opening door, and his father.
Waking up, with a jolt, he instantly jerked upright, ignoring the protests of his sore ribs, into the darkness of his room, gasping for air. "It was all a dream, just a fucking dream," he murmured to himself as his heart slowed to a more normal rate. Running a hand through his sweat dampened hair, he blindly reached out to find a crumbled pack of cigarettes and nearly ripped it apart, before lighting one up. Inhaling, he took a deep drag, trying to get rid of the overwhelmingly sour taste of fear out of his mouth. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he smoked the cigarette down to the filter, before he lit another one automatically. His elbows propped up on his bare knees, his head hung low and the only audible sound heard was the hiss of the burning cigarettes and the occasional click of the lighter, as he chain smoked the night away.
TBC
Ok . . . as usual, if you've left me your email, then I've added you to my mailing list for this story, so you get a happy little email each & every time I update, if you didn't get one, well obviously I don't have your email or I missed it somehow. If you review this chapter & leave your email in the review or I can get it off your profile, I will gladly add you. Don't forget reviews are like candy & I'm nothing if not a sugar addict. I debated whether to end the chapter without the last paragraph, but figured that it was too evil of a cliffhanger, lol. So please, read, enjoy & if you didn't hate this chapter then please review ;)