It was almost sickening how good life felt for Hermione right now.
She had accidentally fallen into a routine of becoming someone who was pretending as if there wasn't a war raging on outside of the farm boundary fences. There were people who made her laugh during the day, as well as someone who made her toes curl and keep the bed warm at night.
She'd fallen in love with reading again. She'd started learning how to cook new food. She'd even started to eat some of those foods with her housemates.
If someone told her that this was what peace felt like, she wouldn't question it..
"What's got you smiling like that?" Malfoy asked, tapping his knee against hers as they sat head to toe on the couch in the living room..
Hermione peered up from her book, to see his own closed shut on his lap, and his arms folded across his chest.
"Nothing," she said, trying to suppress her grin and failing.
"I thought that you and I don't lie to each other, Granger."
"I'm not lying, it's nothing of importance."
"Really? Because I've spent the better half of a decade watching you smile like that in class every time you've done well on a test. Spill."
He leant over and grabbed the book out of her hands, cautious to put a bookmark in before placing her feet in his lap. It was past midnight and the only light was the aid of two candles.
A silencing charm was also placed on the room, just in case.
"I was merely laughing at a joke that a character made in my story," she poorly lied.
Malfoy squeezed her foot through her sock, "Lie to me again and I'll have to force you to tell me the truth in ways that you may not enjoy. Try again."
"May not enjoy? Elaborate on those, please."
"You're stalling. One last chance, Granger."
Hermione pursed her lips and squinted her eyes. She mirrored his posture of folded arms. "Fine," she said. "I was thinking about how sweet it was for Dean to show Teddy how to sit on a broom, and fake fly him around the kitchen."
"See, I wish I could believe you, but I just can't."
"Well, it's the truth." There was a clear curve to her mouth that showed that she wasn't telling the truth, and they both knew it.
Malfoy took her feet off, got up from his seat, with his lips sucked in and shook his head. "Now, I told you there would be hell to pay if you lied to me again. Didn't I?"
"Yes, however," she pointed to him, "I have not lied to you. Therefore, you cannot punish me."
"You're only making this harder on yourself," he said, then ducked down and started tickling her at her sides. Hermione was proud of herself for putting that silencing charm over the room because the squeal that came out of her mouth—deafening.
"Stop!" She choked out through laughter, "I can't breathe! Stop it!"
He didn't hold back on making her nearly fall off the couch with how badly she was wriggling, trying to get out of his grip. She slapped his shoulders, kicked her feet, nothing was making him stop.
"Alright, fine! I'll tell you!"
"The truth?" He asked, softening his grip on her hips.
"The truth."
Malfoy let go of her torso and scooped her up only to sit back down on the couch with her on his lap. Hermione had to take a moment to catch her breath first. If she was going to lay her heart on the table, she needed to be ready for when he crushed her glass heart.
"I was thinking about," she played with the collar of his shirt, "if fate was on our side, how nice this would be once we're off this farm. When the war is over."
"This?"
"You and I."
By the way that he bent his head, Hermione knew that she'd said the wrong thing. There was too much of a pause in his response.
She waited for the wrecking ball to hit her.
"There won't be a you and I," he finally said. "Once Potter wins, this is over. I thought you knew that?"
His tone was harsh, and made her want to chew pins. No matter how many sentences she thought he was going to say, she never thought he'd make her feel dumb.
Her hands slowly dropped from his collar. She slipped off his legs to stand tall. He went to reach for her but she avoided his hand by stepping back.
She knew when she wasn't wanted.
"Hermione-"
"Please don't," she said sternly. "Please don't use my name now that you're feeling guilty."
He rubbed his chin with his knuckles, "I'm sorry. If I've misled you, I didn't have the intention to do so. I assumed you and I were on the same page here."
"Apparently not."
She could see that his hands were at the beginning stages of a tremor episode, but she didn't have the heart to care right now. Her own hands were shaking from how badly she wanted to drag him by the ear out to the front gates and toss him out of the wards.
"If I can explain-"
Before he could finish his sentence, she interrupted, "I need you to leave, Malfoy."
"I'm not leaving you like this. I can't leave you like this."
"If you don't leave, I am only going to say things to you out of a reaction. I won't be kind, and I don't blame you for not wanting to be with me once this is over, but I would rather not tarnish it right this second."
Her blood was boiling at this point. It was killing her to be this rational. She wanted to howl and toss something that would smash.
"You can go to my room," she added. Her room, not our room anymore. "Stay there."
"Will you join me?" He asked, with a glisten of something dim in his eye.
"I don't know."
From her view of the floor she could see his socks, and how they hesitated in leaving before walking to the door. Hermione had to physically restrain herself from either crying or pushing him, maybe both.
"This was never about-" he tried to explain but she couldn't bear to hear the sound of his voice right now.
"Whatever it's about, it can wait. Somehow, in a single breath you've made me feel like the most idiotic person in the world for falling for you. I won't be able to hear anything else you try to say logically."
"I'll give you as much time as you need. But please—come to bed tonight. I won't touch you, or try to talk to you. Just don't stay down here."
On the side that he couldn't see, Hermione felt a warm tear run down her cheek. She turned her back and didn't give him an answer.
When the room fell cold, she knew he'd left her alone.
That old familiar voice in the back of her head told her that she was the girl who loves everyone so hard, and yet everyone makes her feel so hard to love.
Hermione did not go to her bedroom that night. She fell asleep on the couch thinking about all the signs that she'd missed on how Malfoy felt about her. At some point when the candles blew themselves out, she came up with the conclusion that she must have been wearing rose coloured glasses.
Because she couldn't find a day that he gave her the impression he didn't want what she wanted.
When she woke, a blanket was wrapped around her and Andromeda was changing Teddy's nappy on the living room floor.
"Good morning darling," the elder witch said. "Did you fall asleep on the couch reading?"
On the floor sat two books next to the couch. "Yes, I must have," Hermione rasped, stretching her arms. "What time is it?"
"Nearly eight. Cho is making breakfast if you would like some."
"Oh, thank you. I'm not that hungry just yet."
"Suit yourself," she said, picking her grandson up and tugging on his pants. "Though you might want to ask her to save you a plate. Harry woke up this morning with a sweet tooth for pancakes."
As much as Hermione wanted to laugh at the statement, she'd sort of lost all emotion in her body. She has gone numb since Malfoy left the room last night.
There were too many questions on her mind, and she needed to seek the answers if only to remind herself that she was a woman who valued knowledge.
"Andromeda. Can I ask you something?"
"Anything, darling."
She faltered on the right words to say, but managed to spit out, "Why did Draco defect from being a Death Eater? Had he made that decision when he approached you?"
"You have asked me this before. Have you given Draco a chance to answer you himself?"
"I cannot talk to him right now," she bowed her head. "He and I do not see eye to eye on something and I don't know if I'll ever be able to ask him."
Andromeda did the button up on Teddy's pants and let him fall on his bum to crawl around the living room. She pressed on all the fingernails on her left hand, seemingly contemplating over whether or not she should share such a story. Hermione waited in hope that she would.
"From my knowledge," Andromeda began, "Draco decided to seek my assistance after he was tortured by You-Know-Who."
"When he didn't identify Harry?"
"Yes. He was very frail when he found me. He remembered where I lived from a time many years ago when his mother and I wished, and failed, to rekindle our relationship. He did not stay for long, most likely to avoid suspicion from his parents, but he clearly stated that he no longer wished to be a Death Eater."
"Did he tell you why?"
"As much as I want to say that it was simply because he was tortured, you and I both know that there was something else that happened that day that may have pushed him over the edge."
A phantom pain shot through Hermione's left forearm. She bit back on her molars, trying awfully hard not to run to conclusions.
"He stayed though," she said through clenched teeth. "Malfoy was still with the Death Eaters when the battle at Hogwarts happened."
"Physically, yes. Every other move he made prior to May was evidence of his defection. The funds from his inheritance being withdrawn for the Order was one of those."
"May I ask what he said to you when he came to see you?"
"This is really something he should be telling you not-"
"Please, Andromeda," Hermione begged. Her face probably spoke louder than her words. "I need to know your side. I need to see how you see him."
The way that Andromeda was pitying her right now, there was no denying that she could see the internal struggling going on inside her mind.
Maybe she even related to it a little.
"Draco was very sure on what he wanted that day, Hermione. There was a darkness to his eyes that I'd never seen in a man before, and it broke my heart that it was within my nephew at such a young age. He said that he hated You-Know-Who, and refused to be a part of the world he was trying to create any longer. It did not take much of his begging for me to see the honesty behind his pleas.
"We made a plan for him to gain the trust of the Order. Remus met with him twice, and swore not to share with anyone about the inheritance money, or that he was turning. The only people that knew were Nymphadora, Remus, my husband, and myself."
Hermione tried to imagine Malfoy begging. She wondered whether he was the type of man to get on his knees, or was he proud, and refused to lower himself in such ways?
"He told me that Dean was the one that found him during the battle," she said.
"Dean found him on Remus' orders that were given before he died. I am not too sure on the timeline of what happened during the battle, but Dean was sent to ensure Draco was fighting on our side."
"From what I have heard, he was. Pansy died trying to stop him."
"Yes, he told me that when I first arrived. Her death and the two boys that were his friends were very heavy on him. Still are, I assume."
Hermione nodded. She knew that he hated himself for making them chase Harry for his own wand. Perhaps he wanted it so that he could fight well on the Order's side.
"How was McGonagall informed on all of this?"
"Nymphadora told her when she arrived at Hogwarts. Before she left me with Teddy, she said that she could sense something bad was going to happen and that she needed to help Remus, and tell the Order of Draco's alliance as it might help."
A sinking feeling filled Hermione's stomach. "I'm sorry, Andromeda. Tonks was far braver, and more noble than any witch I've ever known. She, nor any of your family should have been taken from you so soon."
"Thank you, my darling." Mist filled the elder witch's eyes. "My daughter adored you, and everything you stood for. Now, I should not be telling you this, but I have said too much anyway. Before you and everyone else came, I was sent here to heal all of Draco's wounds. His Dark Mark was still intact then. When you all arrived, I snuck up to the attic the next day to see if he wanted to come down. He had burnt the Mark off."
"He shared that he'd used the stove, as he'd lost his magic."
"I did not know that." There was a lull before Andromeda shared something that made Hermione want to be sick. "When I tried to heal the burn, Draco refused. He said that as long as Granger was scarred from his cowardness, then he deserved to be scarred too."
That familiar acid bile was burning at the back of her throat. She didn't know whether she was supposed to feel hurt or honoured. In a mix between both, she was plain frustrated.
Malfoy hadn't defended her at the manor that day. He watched her suffer, handicapped by his own fear.
Both women were aware of Teddy's presence throughout their conversation, but didn't look at him until he started yelling "NiNi" over and over again. Hermione went over to pick him up and rock him on her hip as she tried to process the new information.
Deep down, she was hoping that Andromeda would tell her stories of how Malfoy never truly wanted to be part of the Order, but only hated being Death Eater. She wanted to turn him into a villain again, just so she had an excuse to blame him instead of herself for where they were right now.
Still on her knees by the changing blanket, Andromeda said, "Whatever it is that is going on between the two of you, you should know that he cares about you more than he has the ability to express, sweet girl."
"Believe it or not, that doesn't help the argument. If anything, what you have said has made it worse."
"Is that because you are choosing not to hear his side?"
Hermione frowned. Andromeda continued. "If you are anything like me, you need to have space when in an argument. Time to cool off. Whereas if Draco is anything like my husband was, he will bury himself in guilt unless you talk it out in the moment."
"I just don't want to say anything that will hurt his feelings."
"Which I understand, but my darling, do not torment him longer than necessary. Don't turn against him when he needs you. You will feel better once you've heard his side of whatever it is that you do not see eye to eye on. Listen to him, and truly listen."
Teddy buried himself in Hermione's neck. She stroked his hair and sat on the realisation that perhaps she never gave Malfoy a chance to explain himself. Even if it was a knife slice to the throat kind of explanation.
"He's chopping wood if you want to speak with him."
"We barely use the fireplace."
"He's chopping wood for other reasons, darling."
With a tight lipped admit of defeat, Hermione returned Teddy to his grandmother. "Thank you for putting the blanket on me this morning," she said on her way out. "I appreciate it."
"That wasn't me, I'm afraid. You can thank someone else for that."
Her wink indicated who it had been. Hermione walked outside and headed towards the stables, knowing now that she might not be the only one that Malfoy talks to in this house. She only wished she had family here, too.
Malfoy wasn't in a shirt, or a sweater, or even a vest when she saw him by the tree logs. As cold as it was outside, there was a sheen of sweat covering his torso. His hard, thick, not abs but well cut torso.
It looked so much more intimidating in the daylight.
He was throwing down the axe with a purpose, with a grunt of sorts coming out every time he split the wood. Hermione wondered if her father had ever used an axe before, and just how sharp the blade could get.
When Malfoy spotted her walking his way, he sagged ever so slightly, dropping the axe to the grass and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm.
"Hey," Hermione said, aware that she was still in her pyjamas.
"Hi," he replied. Puffed.
They stared at one another for a few seconds, trying to read what the other was thinking. Hermione was an open book for him, and he was a closed book hidden at the back of the shelf, with a padlock on it.
"I'm sorry for the way that I reacted last night," she apologised. "You wanted to talk and I was too humiliated to say anything rational. But, I would like to hear what you have to say now."
"For what it's worth, I did not see your response as an overreaction. I was actually worried about how calm you were."
"I wanted to punch you, Malfoy. Throw you across the wards and never see your face ever again."
She was hoping he would smirk at that, but he absorbed it and nodded as if he was equally angry with himself as she was.
He sat down on the chopping trunk with his legs spread and his shoulders hunched. Hermione took one step at a time reaching him, to stand in between his feet.
"If there is one thing I never want to make you feel, Granger, it's humiliation. I warned you of the reasons why I did not want to attach myself to you in the beginning, and yet you're openly optimistic as if they won't ever happen."
"Those reasons were a possibility, but none were a risk that I wasn't willing to take. Last night, you made it seem as if you didn't want to be with me outside of the war because you don't have feelings for me. I felt childish and idiotic for being so wound up by rejection that I couldn't bare to hear the sound of your voice."
His head snapped up, and his eyes were that dark shade that Andromeda might have been describing before. "Granger, I've turned myself into a blood traitor to be with you. That alone should tell you the length in which my feelings extend to. I'd do it over and over again, if I could."
"Then why don't you want to be with me when we win? Has the thrill expired for you?" She was getting snappy now.
"It's not my choice!" He barked. "If I had my way, I'd whisk you off to Australia tonight and keep us there forever. But there is a battle coming and once the dust settles, I will still be seen as a Death Eater. I will be convicted for crimes, and sent to Azkaban. You will be rewarded with medals and printed on every newspaper cover in Europe."
She was still trying to wrap her head around the Australia part, and whether or not he said that country because he wanted them to be with her parents.
"You are with the Order, Malfoy! You're Dark Mark is nothing but blistered skin! There is a whole household of people that will testify on your behalf should you go to court!"
"That's not enough! Even if I wasn't imprisoned, you and I will not be able to walk down Diagon Alley together without being spat on. My family has ruined this country! Can't you see that you and I, we start and end within this farm."
Hermione so desperately wanted to kiss him like they do in those romance films. She wanted to grab his face and snog him so hard he had no choice but to melt into her. She wanted to convince him that they'd be ok.
As he sat, hunched, she stepped in closer to run her hands through his sweaty hair. His face looked up to meet hers.
"Draco, if you are chained behind bars, I will spend the rest of my life trying to get you out."
His first name rolled off her tongue so much better than his last.
"Hermione, you believe that you're going to die in this war. I don't even know why we are arguing about this."
Her first name always rolled off his tongue so much better than her last.
"You are the only thing," she said, still stroking his hair. "The only thing that is allowing me to fight for my own life. If I die, I die, but if I don't, I want to be with you when this is done."
"I can't give you a lifetime of white picket fences, and dinner dates every Thursday night."
"I don't care."
"You will care, Hermione. I'm saving you from being trapped."
"What if I want to be trapped? What if being trapped with you isn't such a horrible thing?"
He let out a frustrated sigh. Her hands fell to his shoulders and glided down the sweat to hit biceps. "Why are you so certain that I will walk away from you?" She asked.
"Because we're getting our happy ending too soon into the book."
"I don't understand."
"We have both read enough stories to know that when characters get their happy ending before the final chapters, there is going to be a tragedy that will tear them apart. These past few weeks have been bliss for me, Hermione. I know that something bad is coming, I'm merely waiting for the next chapter to begin."
She wanted to deny it, but she couldn't help but see his point. This wasn't a fairytale. This was real life. This was war.
Her head bent so their foreheads met. His was still damp, but she didn't mind. He held onto the back of her thighs.
"I don't want this to end yet," she confessed.
"We have some time."
"It could be days or weeks, Draco. You're holding me to ransom making me see a deadline."
"Then let's not fight for days or weeks. I don't want to be thinking about how I made you upset when I'm locked in a cement block for the remainder of my days. I want to think about the good things."
She moved to sit on his thigh, and snaked her arm around his neck. His leg was so wide that Hermione did not worry about whether she was too heavy for him.
"Tell me what the good things are for you."
He hummed, "The way you bite your lip when you can't choose what biscuit you want, even though you'll always pick ginger. Or how when you smile, like you're trying to hide it, all the pain in my chest goes away."
Bloody hell.
Hermione rested her cheek on his shoulder, the same way that Teddy did to her minutes ago. "How long do you think it would take for us to run away to Australia?"
"I could buy us muggle plane tickets by this afternoon. Convincing you to leave everyone behind, now that would take a lifetime."
She laughed softly, "You don't seem like a beach person anyway."
"Believe it or not, I can tan, but I choose not to."
"Tan or burn?"
He pinched her side and she yelped. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" He was smirking now, she could hear it.
Hermione pushed herself up to look him in the eye. "Did you wait for me to come to bed last night?"
"I had a feeling you wouldn't, but I waited anyway. The room was too empty for me to fall asleep."
"Draco, you're not just saying all of this as a bandage fix, right? You're not pretending to want me forever only to really want me for a moment?"
He prickled at the accusation, "No." He kissed her neck, his favourite part under her ear. "If all of this ends, and you don't die, and I don't get sent to Azkaban, I will never be able to let you go. I told you this."
"But you won't actually be with me."
"Not publicly. You will go off and marry some smart-ass Healer. He'll hold your hand at all of the charity balls you organise, and take you to Italy every summer to his family's vineyard. And I'll be the man you have a secret affair with. I'll snog you in the ballroom cupboards, and donate to every cause you found. I'd be your mistress, Hermione, just to have a small taste of you."
"Mistress, eh?"
"It sounds more fun than lover."
She ran her thumb over his lips, and dragged the bottom one down. He eyed her hungrily.
"Whatever you are willing to give me. I'll take it," she whispered.
In her prethithial vision, Hermione could see faces looking through the kitchen window out at them. She turned to face them, but they ducked out of view. It looked like Cho and Andromeda, possibly Dean, too.
"We have an audience," Draco stated. "Should we give them something entertaining to look at?"
"I think this is entertaining enough. Anymore and I may need your help to pull Cho off my ear."
"Now we can't have that, now can we?"
She kissed his cheek, "Not at all."
They stood. Draco held her hand when he pecked her forehead, then stayed behind to finish up with the wood while Hermione returned to the house.
Inside, Cho, Andromeda and as it turns out, Dean, were sitting at the table, pretending to eat breakfast.
"Good morning," Hermione said, nodding her head and grabbing a single pancake when sitting at the table.
"Morning," they all said in unison.
"Everything alright out there?" Cho asked.
"Everything is fine."
"Nothing you want to share with us?" Dean added in.
"Nothing that, I assume, you don't already know."
Andromeda was looking at her from across the table. Silenting communicating to her. Hermione gave her a tiny nod to indicate everything was resolved.
"Hermione, since when-" Dean started but stopped when Cho stomped on his foot under the table. He groaned, "Geez! What did you do that for?"
"Leave it."
"But-"
"Leave it," Cho repeated.
Hermione snickered into her pancake. She would have given him a truthful answer to whatever he was going to ask, but she liked being protected by a female friend. It was a strange and welcoming change.
Harry came in not long after, dragging himself quite well with his crutches. Teddy was chasing him with a vicious crawl.
"That thing is a machine," he said. "He can crawl faster than I can walk. Which isn't much, I know, but we're not far off him making his way up the stairs."
Harry opened the fridge and took out his Skele-Gro, tipping it down his throat at ease. Hermione thought back to the day after the Quidditch match when he struggled to keep the disgusting liquid in his mouth.
He must be determined.
Mindlessly staring out the window, Harry said, "I reckon once the snows completely melted we can start training up again."
"I'd say we're a week away from that happening," said Dean.
"Then you'd better start practising."
Harry stole the last remaining pancake off of Cho's plate, ignoring her cry of disapproval, and left the kitchen with a giggling Teddy not far behind.
"He's in a good mood," Hermione commented.
"The twins have been inviting him to the granny flat. They've rubbed off on him a bit," Dean explained.
"That's nice of them. Surprised they didn't try sooner, honestly."
"They did. He didn't accept the invite until he started using the crutches."
"Hmm."
Hermione really wasn't paying attention these days. She'd been wrapped up in her own pity party for the first few months on the farm, and now she was unable to escape the trap that was Draco Malfoy. It was a dangerous game she had entered.
McGonagall came for lunch that day. She gave letters to Harry, from Ginny, the twins, from their mother, and Dean from Seamus. Shockingly, Ophelia received only three letters from her parents this time rather than her usual five.
Harry read his while on the porch swing in the afternoon with Hermione. Two lukewarm cups of tea sitting between them.
"Ginny says that she and Seamus reckon Slughorn is sneaking off in the night."
"Really?" Hermione frowned. "What for?"
"Probably for a pub feed. They said that they tried questioning him about it when he came back one night with a gash on his head but it ended in a row. They guess that he's gotten into a fight with someone while getting a drink."
"That's not very good. He's their guardian. What if something happens while he's out?"
"Do you blame him? He's stuck with a bunch of teenagers. Probably looking for a conversation where someone actually laughs at his jokes."
"True. Doesn't make it right, though."
Harry tucked the letter into his shirt pocket. In the front paddock, Ophelia ran past. Her hair swished in a ponytail and her legs were elegantly long. Hermione hated how much energy she had, and how effortless she looked jogging like that.
"She's a show off," Harry nudged her arm. "She's not even actually running. She's jogging for show."
"For me or for you?"
"For him," he pointed over to the side paddock, where Draco was holding Teddy's on his shoulders as they walked through the thick grass.
She noticed now that Ophelia would look up every now and then to see if Draco was looking at her. Hermione also waited to see if he would look, too.
"Heard that you two had a heart to heart by the stables today. Anything I need to know about?"
"Gossip truly does travel fast around here."
"And I wonder who we can blame for that."
At the same time they both said, "Cho."
"But seriously," said Harry. "Should I be worried? My legs don't work, but I can throw a mean slap. Or a hex."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "We fought over whether or not we would still continue to be—a thing when this is over. He said that the world wouldn't accept him and that when the war ends, so will we."
"He's not wrong. We are the only people that know that he is alive, let alone a traitor against You-Know-Who. It's going to take a while for people to be okay with him coming into society as an innocent person."
"I know that. I know it but I didn't want to admit defeat so easily. This war has literally torn him, Harry. His face is scarred from his betrayal against his family, and I refuse to walk away. Someone needs to stand by his side."
"And if that's you, what will you do if they drag you down with him?"
Hermione took a sip from her tea. "Drown. Or become a muggle again."
"Really? You wouldn't stay and fight it out?"
"Of course, I will fight it out. But I won't be able to do it alone. I'll need you."
Harry put his hand on his heart and faked a gasp. "Me? Hermione Granger needs my help? Oh, how the tables have turned."
"I know." She scrunched up her face. "Feels wrong."
"Shut up," he lightly punched her arm. "I'll help you with Malfoy, if only because I think Teddy will need him."
"He will."
"But if he fucks up, I promise you that I will do whatever it takes to see him punished for hurting you, or Teddy."
"Somehow, I don't think that will be necessary." She held his hand, "Thank you, Harry."
"Yeah, yeah."
Later that night when Hermione was in her towel after dinner, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror poking all the places that she'd put on weight. Her stomach had a pouch, her arse was no longer firm, her arms had lost their muscle.
She thought back to Ophelia running, and pondered on whether or not her belly was flabby too. Her chest was a lot smaller than Hermiones, so she could only assume that the rest of her body was just as solid.
Her school stockings definitely wouldn't have ripped from the width of her thighs either.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked from the closed toilet, brushing his teeth. They'd just finished having a shower. An innocent one, unfortunately.
"Thinking about Ophelia," Hermione said in a daze, still poking her arms.
There was a bit of toothpaste foam coming out of his mouth when he looked at her through the reflection, confused. "Should I ask why?"
"I might join her on her runs. That might be a better solution to all of the binge eating I've been doing this past year."
"You want to replace one addiction with another?"
"A healthier one, yes."
He stood to spit out the paste and rinse his mouth out. "Poking yourself like that does not tell me that you're thinking about it being a healthy substitute. You know your body was going to change after school, no matter what you ate, right?"
"You can only say that because you doubled in size by dragging tyres across the attic floor."
"Would you prefer it if I still looked like a fourteen year old knob head?"
She chuckled. "No. I like you just fine the way that you are."
"Then stop thinking about Ophelia," he said, bending to kiss her neck. "She only runs for the show, not for her health."
"Harry said the same thing."
"As much as it pains me to say it, that's because Potter has his head screwed on. Any bloke can see she's trying to get someone's attention."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him through the mirror. "Someone?"
"Anyone. She's lonely."
His hands scaled her shoulders, then brushed them down her arms. His mouth sought her collarbone and she leant into his chest, closing her eyes. She had missed this last night.
"Every inch of you is perfect, Hermione," he whispered into her skin. "So perfect."
He undid the tie on her towel and let it fall to the ground. Her body was bare, staring back at her in the half length mirror. If it weren't for the way he wrapped his arms to her front, she would have grabbed the towel off the floor and run away.
"Let me show you," Draco said. He made eye contact with her in the reflection and let his hands wander up to her breasts. Massaging them.
"Are you s-"
"Let me," he kissed her neck, "show you."
Draco was only wearing a towel around his waist, so when he let it fall loose and pressed himself against her back, she could feel the heat of his body. How hard it was, too.
He didn't let her turn to face him, rather kept her in place in front of the mirror. He bent her over the low sink and ran his cock up and down her arse cheeks. Hermione was too scared to look at herself so she looked at him instead.
His tongue swept from the bottom of her spine, all the way to the top. By that move alone, she was drenched.
"I want to see every part of you," he breathed into her hair. "I want you to see how good you are."
She swallowed, terrified. Not of him, but of herself.
He tugged the ends of her curls to lift her head up from looking in the sink. He reached in front of her stomach to rub her clit until the worry in her expression turned into pleasure.
Hermione had no idea whether people were downstairs or not. She tried her best not to be loud, but his length was in between her legs and his fingers worked wonders on her stress. Without even noticing, she started to grind on him.
"Don't close your eyes," Draco instructed. "Look in the mirror."
She obeyed and he said, "That's my girl. Now do you want me to make you wait for me, or do you want me now?"
"Now," she begged. "I want you now. Please."
He kissed her face from behind, awfully close to her lips. "Only because you asked so nicely, baby."
When he slipped himself into her, Hermione gasped like it was the first time all over again. She held onto the edges of the sink and focused on looking at him. He rolled his eyes at the back of his head while he sunk into her, and then returned to her gaze.
"Fucking hell," he hissed. "Let me take a photo of this and stare at it until I die."
Hermione smiled, and took the first move in thrusting them for him. Draco soon took over, pushing into her with a possessive grip on her hips. She couldn't help but moan at how perfect he fit inside her.
She watched her own face in the mirror, seeing it flush with every rock. It felt like she was looking at a different person. Someone who she didn't resent.
He fastened the pace and used both hands to hold her breasts, then let them go to see them bounce with his thrusts. He kissed her neck without breaking eye contact.
In an odd way, Hermione felt beautiful. The way he held her, and looked at her, made her realise what other people were saying when they said it was obvious he wanted her.
There was a build of heat rushing through her. It eccelated when Draco pulled her off the sink and held her up against his chest. Arms wrapped around her like rope.
She looked up and his mouth was right there, resting on the corner of her mouth. He was pounding her in a way that made her legs shake. Slowly, then fast, then slow again.
"Fuck, I lo-" he started, then groaned. "I love the way you feel. You're so tight, baby. So perfect for me."
Everything inside her was bursting. She was hiccuping her breaths. "Are you gonna think about this when you're locked in a cell?" She joked through his hip snaps.
"Every single night," he grinned. Hermione wanted to snog that grin off his face.
"What about when we're at the charity events? Will you touch me like this then?"
"Until you forget your own smart-arse husband's name."
He went so deep into her then that she almost choked. She lifted her leg and he grabbed it to go at a different angle.
Her fingers yanked at the roots of his hair. They both cursed.
"God, Draco," she quietly cried. "Yes! Yes! Don't stop."
"Stop talking or I'll come."
Hermione dropped her leg out of her hand and positioned herself back onto the sink. She looked him in the eye and said, "I want you to come, Draco. Come for me."
He slowed his movements to bring himself off the edge, but Hermione start fucking him instead. She pushed herself back onto him, over and over again. Faster and faster.
In the mirror she could see he was admiring her body, watching her take control of them. One hand came back to her hips but he didn't take over, the other toyed with her nipple. She sobbed.
Her entire skin was on fire. Every part that he touched, her knees nearly gave out as a reaction.
He swept the hair away from her neck and sucked on her from behind. He let her fuck her. He let her do whatever she wanted to do to him.
"You're so fucking beautiful," Draco rasped into her ear. "Do you see it? Do you see what I see?"
Hermione nodded, "Yes."
And with that, he pinched both of her nipples and thrust into her so fast she could barely see. She had no control over the sounds coming out of her mouth.
Draco came first, and the look on his face when he did is what led her to finish not long after.
Her legs quivered and he had to hold her up. The orgasm took forever to come down. Even when he pulled himself out of her, she swore she might have finished all over again.
They stood in front of the mirror, sweating and puffed, ruining the shower they just took.
"Oh my God," said Hermione. "That was-"
"Better than anything you will ever get with your healer husband."
"I won't know. I don't want to sleep with a healer. I don't want that with anybody else."
Draco's face twitched into a limp form of a smile. He turned her around and cupped her jaw into his hands. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. You'll want something like that when I'm in prison."
"I'll get a job as a night guard."
"You are impossible."
She wrapped her arms around his waist, and kissed his peck. "Impossibly hard to get rid of. You know I've got the determination. I'll do what it takes to sneak into that cell. Might even risk casting a few unforgivables, in hopes that we'll be locked up together."
"Romance, at its finest."
"Come on," she tugged him back into the shower. "I'm sticky, and I need your help to wash it off."
"Was it always this steamy?" Draco asked, hopping into the tub base behind her. "Or was that us?"
Totally out of character, Hermione lightly smacked his bum. "You're a smart wizard. You can figure it out."
She should have known better than to do that. Before she could protest, she was spinning around again, and tickled down onto her knees. Draco switched the tap on and drenched them both in freezing cold water.
"Draco! Stop!" She laughed.
"Sorry, I can't hear you, the water's too loud. What did you say? Did you say keep going?"
The play fought until someone banged on the door telling them to hurry up. It sounded like Cho with the rich thickness of an accent.
They confirmed it was her when they came out in their towels, red cheeked, avoiding her crossed arms and judgemental brow raise.
"You have a wand," Cho said as they walked down the hall. "I don't want to have to use mine for you guys again."
"Sorry," Hermione mumbled, looking back. Cho gave a secretive smile and then went back to her annoyed expression.
Closing the door behind them, Draco didn't bother putting clothes back on when he slipped into the bed sheets. He turned down her side open for her, and she did the same, sliding in next to him naked.
They talked as the night went on. The same way you did as a child with your friends at slumber parties, whispering and quietly laughing until eventually the silences between topics turned into sleep. Draco fell first, his body parallel to hers.
Hermione grew drowsy watching him sleep. She remembered him saying that this was their happy ending, and that it had come too soon for it to be everlasting.
When her eyes finally closed, she hoped that it would be her to die in their supposed tragedy, and not him.
Because she didn't know if she would ever be able to live without him now.
