A/N: I took a scene and a bit of dialogue from the Half Blood Prince, Chapter 24 so just in case, I don't own that. But when I started this fic I wanted to use it in congruence with the plot so hopefully you enjoy.
Also, I had to go back and edit the last chapter because, wow, I did not do a good job of that before I posted it so sorry for all the mistakes.
Chapter 22
A deep, aching thunder pounded into the recesses of Draco's head. He tried to groan, but his mouth and throat were so dry he wasn't able to summon it. He rolled over, trying to get some relief, but the ground was hard. He wasn't in a bed, that was for sure. Shit, where was he?
He opened his eyes, trying to focus on the world around him, but quickly closed them against the brightness. Daylight was streaming in windows in different colors and filling whatever room he was in. He groaned successfully this time and tried to push himself up. His palms pressed into the floor and it was… wet. He opened one eye and saw tiles. Water. A bathroom? Was he in a bathroom?
Slowly he was able to lift himself up and look around through squinted eyes. The prefect's bathroom… fuck how did he get in here? Last night… he didn't remember much of last night. Flashes and phrases began to come back to him as he struggled to sit up.
Throwing chairs… Blaise shouting at him… "What the fuck are you doing? Get it together, Draco!"
More pounding. He leaned against the wall.
"Why are you drinking?"
Granger. Granger had been there. Oh… shit.
He could remember her beside him. She kept talking, asking questions. She was always asking questions. The only time he could ever get her to shut up was when…
"Draco, stop-"
"Let me touch it."
"No. Let go of me."
Oh God…
He felt sick. What had he done last night? What had he done to Granger? He couldn't remember much else. He remembered being on top of her and hearing her whimper under him, not her normal pleading whimper, but a pained one. A terrible coldness sunk down into his bones. He had done terrible things before, but he never thought he would-
"I'm not going to leave you."
"You're going to hate me."
"It's… okay."
Thank fuck… the memories were hazy, but she was there, annoyed but okay. He hadn't… thank fuck. He didn't want to hurt her. Not like that.
He looked down at himself. His clothes were still damp. Someone had put him in a bath last night because the pool next to him was still full. The same someone had undone his shirt. He stared down at his chest and stomach, but it was still on, still covering his arm. He has been too drunk to do that himself, hadn't he? He swallowed something sour down and slowly slid his sleeve up.
He looked up into the daylight falling softly down on him, illuminating the Dark Mark on his white skin.
It had been covered and that part of his shirt moderately dry thankfully, but… how did he get here? On his own? Fuck… he didn't know.
He looked down at it again. Had anyone seen it? Had she seen it? Oh God…
Granger.
He had to find Granger.
Hermione was in a daze. Nothing really felt real the next morning as she made her way up to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry and Ron walked on either side of her, talking about… something. She didn't even know. She hadn't been paying attention. Her eyes felt dry and somewhere in her head something told her to blink, but she just kept staring ahead, unseeing.
Her stomach clenched as she glanced over to Draco's empty desk. She hadn't expected to see him this morning, but his absence almost made this seem too real. If he had bitten sitting in that chair, an arrogant and bored expression on his face, she could almost pretend that last night was a bad dream, but no matter how long she stared at the chair it stayed empty.
Somewhere, miles away, Snape was lecturing. Her hands stayed in her lap, open. Ron nudged her a few times when Snape walked slowly past their desk, but when she told her arms to reach in her bag and take out parchment, they just tingled a little and stayed where they were.
The rest of the day passed in much of the same fashion. Harry asked her if she was okay at lunch and she nodded. For one terrifying second she thought about checking the Prefect's bathroom and seeing if he was still there, but when her chest seized up and her throat closed, Hermione decided that wherever Draco was right now was the last place she wanted to be.
She broke off from Harry and Ron to head up the stairs and to Arithmancy. She had stewed over it all day and still had no idea what she was going to do. She knew she couldn't tell Harry. If he knew then he would go off the deep end and he had to focus on his studies and on his lessons with Dumbledore. He had to keep his focus.
He might hurt Draco or Draco might hurt him.
She thought about trying to go to McGonagall, but remembered when Harry had tried to explain his theory to her before. Hermione didn't have any proof other than her word and if Harry's word wasn't good enough before, she doubted hers would be now. But what if it was? What if she told McGonagall and they questioned Draco? Made him show them his arm? What would happen to him? Expelled? Arrested?
It should have been a clear-cut decision to go and notify the proper parties, but even though she knew what she should do, she could not make herself do it. She kept seeing the ugly, brutal mark on his arm in her mind but was having a hard time believing that Draco, the same person who made her giggle and smile and smirked at her with that handsome smug expression on his face, was a Death Eater. She had to whisper the thought, even to herself.
Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew that it was a possibility that one day far in the future Draco might take the mark. But he was so young… Why had… Voldemort wanted someone who was still in school to… Oh dear Godric…
The attacks. Katie and Ron. It was him. It was Draco. He had done those things. He had been willing, trying, to kill. She always knew he was a threat, always knew he was dangerous, but murder? The Draco she knew wasn't capable of killing anyone. She saw his hands, handing Katie the necklace, pouring poison into the mead… the same hands that she had- Oh God… she might be sick.
Then those hands were on her. The only warning she got was the faintest whiff of mint before his cool palm closed over her mouth as she opened it to scream, eyes wild. His other arm snaked around her middle, trapping one of her arms at her side while she pulled at his hand with the other.
"Stop fucking fighting me," He growled and she felt him heave her backwards. "You'll only make this worse."
Steaming cold panic poured through her and Hermione bucked against him harder, trying to wriggle her way out of his arms, but Draco held tight with no intent to let her go. He kicked open a door to a storage closet and shoved his shoulder back into it to close it behind them. It was incredibly dark in here with only a sliver of light coming in from the crack around the door.
"Are you going to scream if I let go?" Draco's mouth was pressed into her ear.
Hermione struggled some more and cursed herself for not keeping her wand in her hand today instead of in her bag. There was a Death Eater in Hogwarts, why hadn't she armed herself? Because it was him. And everything was different with him.
"Granger, calm the fuck down."
She was still straining against him, but not actively fighting him. She was out of breath. His hand was pressed against her nose and while she was able to breathe, she wasn't getting as much air as she'd like and her exertions had worn her down.
She hated this. Hated feeling his hands on her and his arms around her. Hated that she didn't hate it. Hated that a small part of her found comfort in his arms still. He was a Death Eater and she cared about him. More than she should have. Much, much more.
"Can I let go of you or do I need to hold you down?"
She wished she knew the answer to that question.
Slowly she felt Draco's grip on her loosen and quickly she decided not to scream, but to yank herself away from him. She dove straight to her bag and reached for her wand, but Draco grabbed her wrist as soon as her hand closed over it and a jet of light shot forth, breaking a large glass jar on one of the shelves.
He slammed her hand back into the wall and she felt a jolt of pain run down her arm. Draco cocked his head to the side. "Hold you down it is then."
"Get off me." Hermione pushed him back. "Don't touch me!"
"Okay, okay." Draco let go of her and took a step back, dropping his hands to his sides. The glass crunched under his feet.
She gathered herself a little and pointed her wand at him, watching him to see when he would try and strike next, but… he didn't. He just stood there.
"What do you think you're doing?" She hissed, now a little worried that the sound of the glass breaking might have alerted someone.
"We need to talk." His voice was low and serious. Storm grey eyes focused on her, studying her in that annoying way so she couldn't read his face. But there was something slithering behind his silver eyes. She stared hard at it. He looked every inch the Slytherin Prince she had known him to be for six years, cold, hard, and cruel.
"Dumbledore is the one I need to talk to."
"And what are you going to tell him?" His eyes stormed like a hurricane.
Hermione took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak.
"You're not going to tell Dumbledore shit." He spat at her.
She raised her wand a little higher. "Yes I will. I'll-"
"If you were going to tell anyone you would have done it this morning. Or last night."
He wasn't wrong. She had known Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater for almost a day and hadn't told a soul. And as always, Draco had an uncanny ability to stay one step ahead of her.
"The only person you need to talk to is me."
"I don't want to hear-"
"We need to talk about last night." There was a hint of softness in his tone. Just enough to make Hermione hesitate and of course, he took advantage of that. "I can barely remember what happened. Just bits and pieces. The last thing I remember was-" He inhaled sharply. "Granger… I know I can get… rough, when I drink. Did I… I mean, are you alright?"
He was asking if she was okay. She had the power to destroy him and he was asking how she was doing. That was not normal Death Eater behavior.
"You didn't hurt me, if that's what you're asking."
He sighed in relief. "So you were able to stop me then?"
"No. You stopped you," She admitted.
His brows pulled together in confusion. "Oh. Good."
"And then you threw up all over yourself and I had to levitate you to the baths."
Wait… did he know?! Did he know she saw the mark or was all of this about him thinking that he forced himself on her? Godric, was she going to have to tell him she saw it?! He had just manhandled her and hauled her in a closet to 'make sure she was okay', what would he do if he found out she knew the truth about him?!
He was staring at her intently, watching her face for the slightest movement. Oh… That's what that darkness slithering behind his eyes was. He was making sure she knew. He wasn't going to say anything, not own up to it, until he knew, beyond a reasonable doubt, that she had seen his mark. She had covered it up when she left him last night, not wanting anyone to stumble upon it.
She wasn't sure why, but she had protected him.
He wasn't going to admit the truth and if he could get away with it, he'd lie to her again.
It was a game of cat and mouse. Well, he might call her kitten, but in true Gryffindor fashion, she was a lion. And he was no mouse either; Draco was a venomous viper.
And a Death Eater.
Anger burned in her, licking her insides with hot flames. She wanted to make him tell her the truth. He owed it to her. After everything, everything, she had given him... She had always been honest with him, never gave him any reason to doubt her- Oh… That's how she could do it.
"Draco, I was so worried about you," She took a step towards him and lowered her wand.
"You were?" He asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.
She nodded and lightly placed her hands on his chest, hoping he would think the shaking of her hands was just from residual nerves. "You scared me," She said in a soft voice and looked up at him, making her chocolate eyes big like she knew he loved.
The grey of his eyes turned to a misty rain color and he wrapped his arms around her back. She could feel his heart beating so fast under her hand and softened her expression. She needed him to believe her right now so she nodded and took a large breath, letting her chest brush against his.
"I thought you'd be mad at me," He said softly, testing her. Making sure it was safe.
"I'm not thrilled," She pouted her bottom lip out and watched as his eyes darted down to it. "But I'm glad you're okay."
Hermione didn't have much practice lying and even less using her sexuality as a tool, but she had been right. Draco was willing to believe her because she had never lied to him before. Draco trusted her.
"I am now," He murmured and bent his head down to kiss her.
She pulled back. She couldn't help it. The muscles in Draco's chest twitched at her withdrawal. How could she kiss him, knowing what she knew now? The same arm that bore the mark of the man who was trying to kill her best friend was wrapped around her right now. And worst of all, she didn't want him to remove it.
"Draco…"
"I'm sorry, Sweetheart," He ran his nose along hers. "I'm sorry I scared you. Let me make it up to you." He pulled at the back of her shirt until it came untucked, grazing his fingers along the skin of her lower back.
Her heart splintered. She loved this. She wanted this. Wanted him. Draco. She wanted Draco. Even as a Death Eater, she still wanted him. Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, knowing what was about to happen. What she was going to do.
No. She wouldn't cry. Not for him.
Hermione closed her eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink and nodded. It was dark in the storage closet, but there was enough light so that when she opened her eyes she could see the relief, the happiness on his carved face. She slid her hands up and trailed her fingers over his jaw and then, his smile. Not a smirk, but a smile.
He was smiling at her. Because… he loved her. She knew it. Draco loved her. A Death Eater loved her. Hermione's throat began to close up, swelling with emotion.
He looked so happy, delighted. The grey tinge of his skin seemed to fade away, the weariness disappearing as his smile spread, and he looked more alive than he had in days. She swallowed against the lump in her throat, pushing down the awful blooming feeling that was now accompanied by heavy guilt.
Draco pulled the rest of her shirt from her skirt and ran his hands up her sides to rest on her ribcage. He kissed her. It was softer, sweeter than it normally was. As if he was thanking her. He nibbled on her lip and pressed her into his hips.
She was trying to trick him, or herself? Was she doing this to give into the part of her that still wanted him? Still cared? Or was this all just a ploy to force the truth into the light? She wasn't sure anymore. She was never sure with Draco. And that was the problem.
She had spent the day with a broken heart, unable to tell anyone or take comfort in anyone because no one could ever know what she had done with him. Especially now. It had been the hardest and loneliest day of her life and all she wanted to do was fall into his arms and let Draco take the hurt away like he did so well, but… she couldn't. Because he was the one who hurt her. And his arm bore a mark that meant she could never sink into them again.
Hermione made a small noise in the back of her throat and he took it for one of passion and deepened his kiss. She closed her eyes tightly. She couldn't love him. Because she couldn't trust him. She could never trust him. But… she had. With her body, with her mind, and with her heart. And he had selfishly taken all of them for himself knowing, knowing, what he was and what he was doing to her. All along.
She had stared at the mark long enough last night, why was she trying to see it again? Because she had to. She had to prove it to herself that it was real, this was real. More real than the warm blood pumping through her wounded heart. More real than the love she felt for him. She hated doing this to him, but he had lied to her, over and over.
"Take it off," She mumbled. "Take my shirt off." She had to make him believe.
Draco pulled at the top few buttons of her shirt and then pulled it over her head, grinning as he brushed back her messy curls. His silver eyes met hers and they shone. For her. She swallowed and started on his buttons.
Draco tensed again. Her fingers slipped, but she quickly started back, pretending that she didn't notice his hesitation.
"Granger," he said in a soft warning. He placed his hand over hers.
"Please," she pressed her lips back into his. "Please, Draco. I want to feel you."
He groaned and it sent another tremor through her, shaking her down to her bones. He had never wanted to take his shirt off before. It was so clear now. He had never wanted her to see the mark. The intimate experience she had loved so much had all just been orchestrated by him to hide his deceit.
He had told her he liked her in that darkness… she closed her eyes against the pain radiating through her so he wouldn't see it.
It had just been another lie. Just like this.
He took his hand off of hers. He let her undo his shirt. She reminded herself that if it weren't so dark in here he wouldn't be risking this right now. Hermione pushed it off of his shoulders until it hung around his elbows. Just a little farther and-
Draco pushed her back into the wall like he had before. His mouth turned hungrier, almost desperate as he pushed his chest against hers. He felt solid, strong, and cool. Without thinking, Hermione grabbed his sides and ran her hands over the skin there.
He did the same to her, grabbing her hips and spreading his hands over her skin. She ran her hands up his back, feeling the taunt muscles there and warmth pooled below her navel. She shouldn't be enjoying this. Not him. Not this.
His hands moved over her hips to her skirt, balling it into his fists. She had to stop getting distracted. She had to do this. She had to. But… she was going to give him one last chance.
Hermione moved her hands over his chest, fingers tracing the lines there and up to his face again until she was holding it in her hands. "Are you sure you're okay?"
He grinned down at her in the faint light. "Still a bit of a hangover, but other than that, I'm fine."
"You drank last night." She frowned, trying to think of what she would normally do in this circumstance. Draco straightened up a little. "Is there something wrong? You'd tell me if there was right? You'd tell me if... if you were in trouble."
One chance. One chance to come clean. If he told her then… then they could figure this out. Yes! Maybe they could go to Dumbledore together. Surely the Order could help him, protect him. Dumbledore trusted Snape after all… and Draco hadn't done anything. Yet.
"No, Sweetheart," He chuckled. "I'm not in any trouble. Everything is fine. Don't worry about me."
Lies. It was all lies. They slithered inside her, coiling around her heart and turning it cold.
He reached up and grabbed her breast with a wicked look in his eyes. "Take your bra off, I want to-"
Hermione jerked his sleeve down the rest of the way before he could stop her.
The closet was dark, but the mark was darker.
He froze. She could feel every muscle in his body contract against her. Oh no… Why had she done this here? In this random closet that no one knew she was in? When he had her half naked and pressed up against a wall.
Oh, God, he could do anything to her and Draco had already proven he was dangerous with his previous attacks. He… he could hurt her. He could kill her.
His eyes met hers, finally unable to hide his thoughts behind their silver shields. Horror, fear, and… shame.
Hermione shoved him away from her and Draco stumbled back, hitting a wooden crate full of something that made an angry buzzing noise. He jumped back from it and crashed into her again, bringing them both to the floor.
"Get off of me!" She screamed. "Get away from me!"
Draco's hands closed in on her again. "Granger-"
"You LIAR!" The tears had won her losing battle with them and filled her eyes, blurring with the darkness around her. He'd finally made her cry. "You're a Death Eater!"
"Shut up!" Draco shouted and she looked up to see his hand raised over her, dark mark bared on the arm poised above her.
This was it. He had done terrible things to other people, people she knew, people she cared about and now he was going to do them to her… Hermione flinched, readying for the strike.
"Granger, no!" Draco's weight left her. She opened her eyes. "I wasn't- I wouldn't-" His chest was heaving and he quickly pulled his shirt back over himself, hiding the mark away from her again. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Hermione pulled her shirt from underneath her and held over herself. "You already have."
"Granger-"
She pulled her legs up under her and shakily got to them. Only inches closer to the door than he was, she reached for the handle.
"Please! Just listen!"
"No!" Hermione shouted tearfully, grabbing her wand and bag too. She wasn't leaving anything behind. "I gave you a chance! I… I gave you…"
Everything.
"I…" Draco's voice wavered and failed. He pushed himself up to his knees in front of her. "Where are you going?"
"You lied to me. You're a liar." She shook her head, curls falling into her face. Her heart… her heart was shattering. She could barely see his face through her tears, but it was still too much.
"I- I'm sorry! I…" His voice cracked.
"Sorry I saw it. That's all." She said it to remind herself because the anguish brimming in Draco's eyes was eroding her resolve.
"Granger…" He inched closer, not able to move well on his knees.
She pulled her shirt back over her shoulders. "Harry was right about you," She said through the lump in her throat. "He knew. This whole year, but I didn't listen."
Draco's eyes widened, staring up at her.
"I'm so stupid." Tears fell down from her face and landed on Draco's cheek. "So stupid."
"Sweetheart-"
Her Gryffindor pride roared inside her. "Don't ever call me that again," she spat, voice full of emotion and opened the door, not caring that she was holding her bag up over her still open shirt. Not caring about anything but getting away from him.
Hermione took a few backwards steps out into the empty hall.
Draco reached for her, but fell forward onto his hands. She shook her head as he glanced up at her and her shaky legs broke into a run.
"Granger!" He called from behind her. She tripped on the broken pieces of her heart, but didn't stop. "HERMIONE!"
Draco panted and gasped on the floor. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.
Granger was gone.
She had seen the mark and she ran.
Dark scales slithered over him, twisting and constricting.
She'd left him. He lost her.
Oh God… it hurt.
It hurt worse than anything he had ever felt. He had thought the pain of taking the mark was bad but this... It was like a cold, burning poison, creeping slowly through his veins, making its way into every inch of him as the reality of this settled heavily over him.
Granger was gone. She wasn't his anymore. He'd lost her. She'd ran. She left him. Here. Alone.
He was cold. Colder than he'd ever been. His hands shook violently as he looked down at them. His whole arms convulsed, barely holding him up. His chest… fuck, his chest.
Somehow he had crawled back into the supply closet. He was still on the floor, still gasping.
How had it come to this? He hadn't been sure she knew and at first she had been so angry at him, but then… she had been worried about him and he thought… well… if she knew the truth she would have already told someone. Once he'd figured out she hadn't gone to Dumbledore he thought he was in the clear. That she was mad about him drinking and grabbing at her, but she'd forgiven him for shit like that before, she could do it again.
Fuck, he'd known all along that if she knew the truth she'd hate him. She'd never want him. And still… he had let himself concoct a scenario where she loved him enough to follow him or at least to…
Fuck. Draco covered his twisted face in his hands. At least love him enough for him to take her. Fuck… how did he get so fucked up? How did everything get so fucked up?
It had been fine a day ago. Fine until he went to work on the Vanishing Cabinet and had actually repaired it. Fixed it. Completed it. All those hours, days, weeks, months had added up and he had restored the Cabinet for human use. He stepped through it and looked around the empty shop with wide eyes.
Borgin had walked out of the back room and nearly fainted when he saw him. Draco quickly turned and dived back into the Cabinet, feeling the strange sucking sensation as he shifted from one place to another. He hadn't wanted anyone to see him. Because then they'd know it was done and he'd be expected to kill a man and… he didn't want to.
He wanted to stay here. With her.
He didn't want to run. Didn't want to serve his Lord.
But he wanted his father home and well and he wanted his mother safe and happy.
And her. He wanted her. To love him. Back.
To fucking love him back.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair that he the girl who was what he wanted in every single way was a fucking Mudblood.
Shit. No. She… she was…
Draco closed his eyes so tight it hurt. Good. He should hurt.
This love hurt. He hated this burning inside him, but dear God, he'd die without it. Without her.
He hadn't been able to stand it so he had taken a bottle off Theo and set about doing the only thing that he knew how to do in these situations. Fuck shit up.
He had to kill Dumbledore in order to save himself and his family. But if he killed Dumbledore Granger would hate him forever. But if he didn't, the Dark Lord would murder him and let his father rot away and probably something worse to his mother.
He wanted to tell her everything.
He never wanted her to find out about him.
She couldn't find out about the mark or the awful things he'd done. To the Muggle family. To other people. To other girls. How Pansy had told him about all the shit with her father and how he used that to get close to her, to get her to sleep with him. How when he cast her aside after she said she was falling for him, only to pick her back up when he got bored.
How he treated Blaise. Blaise, who had always been there for him and Draco never once said a kind word to him. Blaise who would heal his hand when he threw it into a wall, who brewed him potions when he drank too much, who gave up evenings to play fucking chess just to help him kick his habit. Blaise who he wouldn't even call his fucking friend.
His father had told him friends made you weak and loyalties got you hurt. He pushed everyone who showed him an ounce of kindness away and goddamn it, he loved the way that felt. Loved being able to hurt them and keep them coming back.
And he had done the same to her. And fuck, he thought maybe she liked it too. Maybe she… but just because she liked him to be rough with her didn't mean she wanted to get her heart broken and that is exactly what was going to happen when he killed Dumbledore and she either found out the truth or he kidnapped her.
Because he could spin it any way he wanted, but that's what it was. He was going to Avada the old man and then Imperius her to come with him. What choice did he have?
He was a piece of shit.
Utter shit.
He bored into her mind when she was at her most vulnerable and took advantage of her. He'd violated her personal thoughts and feelings so that he would know if she loved him because it would make him feel better and tried to trick her into saying it because once she said it…
Once she said it he could justify all the horrible things he was planning on doing because of it. He could abduct her, hold her prisoner, with the hope that one day that love would overcome all the rest.
That was the awful, fucked up truth of it.
That he was willing to do anything it took to keep her, even if it meant hurting her.
Draco had drunk almost the whole bottle and destroyed the room in a drunken rage to try and combat the sick feelings of guilt and remorse that were spawning from this god-awful love. He never expected her to show up. And he never expected her to… try and help.
She had to have seen it. He was a fool for thinking otherwise for even a second, but… this stupid, foolish love made a small bit of hope shine inside him that maybe, just maybe, she hadn't.
And today she made him think… think he had another chance. A chance to make things right with her. Be the man she thought he was, the man she wanted him to be.
But he wasn't.
He was a fucking Death Eater and she had left him for it.
Draco wandered down the halls, a few people passed him on their way to dinner, but no one spoke to him. He wasn't sure where he was going until his feet led him to Myrtle's bathroom and he walked in.
"Draco!" She smiled at him. "Oh…" her smile fell away. "What's wrong?"
His chest caved in. What was wrong? What was wrong?!
He was. He was so damn wrong.
Draco leaned over the sink and felt his eyes burn. She was gone. He wasn't going to get her back. She'd never let him near her again, not after today. That had been his last chance. She had asked him, one final time, and like the snake he was, he had lied. Again.
Because his whole life was a lie. If one Muggleborn rose above, could others? They were different, yes, because they came from a different world, but were they inherently bad because of it? She wasn't. And if she wasn't, maybe the others weren't. And if they weren't, then his father was wrong. And if his father was wrong, then the Dark Lord was wrong. And that meant he was wrong for having the mark branded into his skin and Granger had seen it and-
Draco's shoulders heaved and his chest tightened to the point where he could hardly breathe.
None of it mattered. If she ever loved him, she didn't now. So why not kill Dumbledore? Why not murder him like he was supposed to, like he was raised to, trained to, and then get the fuck out of here before he was caught?
Because he didn't want to. He didn't want any of it. He just wanted her. Her. Granger. Hermione.
He gripped the edges of the sink until his knuckles turned white, hanging his white blond head down. His tears hit the porcelain with small splashes.
"Don't," Myrtle hovered near him, speaking softly. "Tell me what's wrong… I can help you…"
"No one can help me," Draco heaved in a shaking breathing. In fact, his whole body was shaking, sobs racking through him. "I can't do it… I can't..."
He lifted his face up and saw a figure reflected in the mirror in front of him. He gulped down a breath and blinked the tears from his eyes.
Potter.
There was only one reason he'd be here. She fucking told him. She sent Potter after him. She betrayed him.
Draco saw black spots dance in his vision and something deep and dark rose up in him, poison dripping from its fangs as it struck out, hissing and spitting.
Potter who she loved. Potter who she had run to. Potter who had always beat him. Who was the better Seeker. Who was the star of Potions. Who was the fucking Chosen One. Who was the one she had chosen.
Potter who was the fucking reason he was a Death Eater in the first place.
Draco spun around, wand in his hand and aimed it at Potter's scared up fucking face.
Potter wanted to duel a Death Eater? Well he'd fucking give him one.
Draco opened his eyes and his Godfather's hooked nose was the first thing he saw.
Snape was sitting by his bed. His bed in the hospital wing. Draco sucked in a deep breath and tried to sit up a little, but immediately fell back as hot lashes of pain shot across his torso.
"You shouldn't move. The skin is new and tight. It will loosen with time, but if you try to stretch it, it can break open again."
Draco glowered at Snape. "What are you doing here?" he snarled. "Hoping to finish the job?"
Snape's dark eyes glittered. "Hardly. And as you know, it would be impossible for me to… finish the job, as you so crudely put it, without condemning myself to the same fate."
Draco laid back. "If you were a better fucking teacher, Potter might have done it for you and then you could have all the glory, just like you've always wanted."
He wanted to hurt someone. Anyone. Anything. Everything. The pain in him was too much. He had to get it out.
"I do not wish to have to report to the Dark Lord of your failure or your death. All I want is to see his orders carried out."
"Then do it yourself!" Draco shouted. Snape pulled back, obviously surprised at his outburst. The pain was searing over his chest again, but Draco grit and bore it. It was nothing compared to what was under his skin. "I don't want it anymore. I don't want any of it."
Snape's brows furrowed and hung heavily over his black eyes. "Draco, what are you saying?"
Draco fell back against his pillow and closed his eyes. The lump in his throat was back and the tightness in his chest had nothing to do with his new skin.
"Do you no longer wish to serve your Lord and Master?" Snape's voice was intriguing. Curious. As if he was almost… happy about this.
Draco swallowed hard, trying to dispel some of the emotions rising up in him again. No. He didn't. But he didn't have a choice. What was he supposed to do? Just let himself be killed and his father die? He wished someone would tell him. He felt so… lost.
"I want you to get the fuck away from me."
Snape shifted in his seat. "That's hardly a way to say thank you to the man who saved your life and your skin by hiding your mark!" he hissed through his teeth.
Draco looked down. He was wearing fresh clothes, not the torn, bloodstained ones he had been carried in with.
"Had a lot of practice with that, have you?" he sneered. "Playing pet to Dumbledore for sixteen years has bound to help you pick up some tricks."
"You insolent little shit." Snape stood up and Draco saw his dark wand in his hand.
Fucking do it. Curse me. Hurt me.
"At least I'm not a halfblood turncoat who's only trusted enough to be assigned as a glorified babysitter."
The stream of red light hit him across the face, burning into his skin like a slap. He would know, he'd received enough of them from his father over the years to become intimately familiar with the feeling.
Draco's head snapped to the side and he laid there, breathing heavily, unable to do anything but feel the sting on his cheek, the searing on his skin, and the cold emptiness in his chest.
Granger.
"Madame Pomfrey has strict instructions not to release you until I come to collect you. Don't bother trying to escape, the door will be locked and I have your wand. But, just for good measure," Snape smirked cruelly and flicked his wand again. Draco's hands snapped to his sides and he felt his entire body stiffen uncomfortably.
He couldn't speak. He couldn't move. It was as if he was made out of stone.
"This way you won't hurt yourself by flailing around. I don't want another Howler from your mother threatening to castrate me if another one of your hairs is out of place."
Draco was fuming, blood rushing, but unable to move even a pinky to do anything about it. This was humiliating. He was going to make Snape pay for this. Right after Dumbledore and Potter.
Snape sneered down at him. "I will see you tomorrow. I expect your attitude to improve by then." He glared down at Draco who was unable to answer, but knowing his Godfather was skilled at Legilimency, Draco conjured up an image of Snape crying out in pain and tried shoving it at him.
Snape glared darkly at him before reaching out and closing Draco's lids over his eyes. He heard him sweep from the hospital wing, the door thudding closed behind him, leaving Draco alone in the darkness.
Hours later he heard the door open. He was still frozen in his world of darkness and only hoped it wasn't Potter come to finish him off.
But that wasn't his style. Not the Golden Boy of Gryffindor.
Oh, how he hated him.
The footsteps were light. A girl's?
They stopped at his bed. Draco felt something run down his spine. He might not be able to see, but he could tell someone was looking at him.
His ears strained for any noise, anything at all to tell him what was going on. Then the bed squeaked. Someone had sat on the side of it.
Vanilla and cinnamon. He could smell vanilla and cinnamon.
Granger.
Granger was here.
Oh fuck Snape for jinxing him. She was here and he couldn't even speak to her! Couldn't open his eyes, couldn't even let her know he was awake in here!
She gave a small sniff and his anger left him as the cold pain seared in his heart again. Granger…
"Draco? Are you asleep?"
No. I'm very much awake, but some ASSHOLE jinxed me so you're just going to have to trust me on this one.
Trust, yeah right.
"Maybe it's better that you aren't."
He could practically picture her sitting here, picking at her hands like she did when she was nervous.
"Are you okay?" She asked in a small voice. "I hope you are. Harry didn't mean to… it was an accident. He didn't know what that spell did."
Believe me, when I get my hands on him, it won't be a fucking accident.
"He's sick over it. He never wanted to hurt you."
Draco felt uncomfortable listening to this. So… Potter wasn't trying to kill him? Then, did Granger not tell him?
"When he told me what happened I was terrified. I… Oh God, this is all so wrong, but I… I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you."
Oh, Sweetheart… I'm right here. Right fucking here.
She was silent for a long time. He heard a few more sniffs and something that might have been her wiping her eyes. Picturing Granger crying made him feel sick all over again.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why, Draco? Why would you do it?"
I had to. You don't understand. I didn't want to, but I had to. For my father and my mother. He'd have killed us all if I didn't and he still might if I don't follow his orders-
"I thought…" she breathed out. "I believed you. But it was all just lies, wasn't it?"
No! Fuck, Granger, no! I… I meant it. I mean it. I…
"I guess it's a good thing we never finished our conversation then. I guess it's good I never told you."
His heart was pounding in his chest so hard it hurt.
Tell me, oh for the love of Salazar, Hermione, please… tell me you love me.
"I don't know what to do. How do I stop this?"
Don't. Don't stop. Please… please don't stop. Give me a chance to explain before you-
"I should never have gotten involved with you. I knew who you were and still…" she sighed. "I'm just a silly little girl who slept with the first boy who called her pretty." Her voice was weak and shaking.
He hated hearing her like this and hated hearing about the pain he was causing her. Hate and anger he could take, but these sad sniffles and heartbroken admissions… he wished Potter had finished the job right now.
"God, I… I hate myself for this."
Either the jinx was spreading to his lungs or his body was rejecting oxygen. He couldn't breathe. He didn't want to. All he wanted to do was hear her say she didn't mean it and she still wanted to be with him and they'd make it work.
Granger, please don't… Don't hate yourself. Hate me. Love me, hate me, give it all to me. Just stay with me.
"Just do me one favor, okay?"
Anything, Sweetheart. If you give me another chance, I'll give you whatever you want.
"Don't tell anyone."
What?
"Blaise knows, but… no one else. And if you tell people, it will make this real and… I want to…" her voice was breaking. "I want to forget you."
His chest was breaking in half, caving in, crashing.
You can't forget me! Please, Granger! Fuck… no…
He felt her lips softly graze against his. They were wet and salty with tears. Her vanilla cinnamon scent swarmed over him and a single curl brushed against his face before he felt her pull back.
"I thought I loved you, Draco."
Shit, don't do this! Please!
"But I guess that was just another lie too."
No it's not! It's not because… because I...
"Goodbye."
Don't leave me… Hermione, I… I love you.
Fuck! He was finally able to say the words and he wasn't able to fucking say them.
The bed squeaked again and he raged against the magic holding him in place, but could do nothing but listen to her light footsteps as they turned softer and finally were gone.
He lay completely still in the cold hospital bed, breaking into a million pieces and not able to pick a single one back up. He just had to stay there, and feel it all.
She should have gone to someone. Told someone the truth, but just couldn't bring herself to do it. What if they asked how she knew? What would she tell them? What could she tell them? That she had been sleeping with him for months now? What would they think of her then? A Death Eater's whore…
All the things he had called her, all the things he had said about her, she now felt them all. Dirty. Filthy. He had called her Mudblood and she had only stopped him because it was wrong, not because she didn't like it. And a small part of her had soared when he started calling her Sweetheart. As if he cared about her. As if he loved her.
But he didn't. He never had. He had told her that from the start, that he hated her, loathed her, what he thought of people like her. And none of that had stopped her. Maybe she was a slut, willing to do anything for the feeling. Even Lavender had waited until she had been in a relationship to give it up, but no, Hermione had let a Death Eater take her virginity. Not even taken it, she had asked him to.
And then begged him to do it again and again.
Hermione wiped her eyes, red and puffy and swollen from days worth of crying sessions. She pushed the door of the bathroom stall open and walked over to the sink.
She was a mess. Red nose, wet lashes, and chapped lips. A wave of her wand hid the worst of it and Hermione ran her fingers through her messy hair, hoping that everyone would be too busy to notice the glamour she had put on herself before heading outside during a free period before dinner.
Hermione sat by the Lake, chewing on her lip and staring down out at the sun-lit water. She had come out here to get away from everyone for a moment. Sometimes it was good to be around people, it kept her from sinking too far down into her thoughts, but other times it seemed too much and she longed for the quiet solitude.
The afternoon sun was warm and a gentle breeze blew over her, brushing her curls back over her shoulders.
"Hermione? What are you doing all the way out here?"
She blinked herself out of her thoughts and looked up to see Ron standing next to her.
"Oh…" she stared up at him. "I was just…" she trailed off and looked back at the Lake. "Sitting."
"I see that," he laughed.
Hermione tried to smile, but… it didn't work. "Did you need me for something?"
Ron sat down next to her, placing his broom on the stony shore next to him. "No, I was just… walking around. We've got the match tomorrow and… well, I just wanted to try and clear my head."
She didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. Normally, she'd be able to think of something encouraging or comment on how all his practice was sure to pay off, but right now… all her energy was being taken up by merely trying to exist.
"What's going on, Hermione? You've barely said anything in two days. I… I know you're going to yell at me again for talking about it, but does this have anything to do with…" he raised his eyebrows a little in question.
Hermione bit her lip and picked at her hands. She nodded.
Ron let out a low breath and put his arm around her. It didn't feel like when Draco did it. Ron's arm hung low around her back, holding her shoulder in comfort. Draco had draped his around her neck, pulling her towards him like he owned her.
"It's over?" His voice was soft.
She nodded again, unable to say the words.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione." He squeezed her shoulder. "Do you… want to talk about it?" he asked awkwardly.
She shook her head and Ron seemed a little relieved by this.
A small bird flitted in front of them, chirping happily. Hermione watched it as it flapped its little wings and flew off into the Forest. She looked into the dark trees and closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about the Forest. Or him.
It seemed everything reminded her of him these days.
"Is there anything I can do?"
She shook her head and took a breath. "No. But this is nice."
And it was. It was nice to feel someone next to her. Nice to feel someone care for her. Nice to have a friend.
"Yeah it is, isn't it?" He smiled down at her, blue eyes as clear and bright as the summer sky above them. "I'm sorry I got upset with you the other night," Ron admitted. "You didn't deserve that."
Hermione looked up at him, eyes wide as she stared into his crystal blue ones.
"I know I overstepped my bounds. I just didn't… well… I didn't want you to get hurt."
Hermione's lip trembled.
"Oh Hermione," Ron said her name softly and brought up his other hand to cup her cheek. It was warm against her skin. Draco had always felt cool. Would she ever stop thinking about him?
Hermione felt the thin defense she had put in place start to fall. Her eyes brimmed with water and she felt the deep ache in her chest again.
Ron's mouth opened slightly and she could see her pain reflected in his face. She whimpered and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest and felt her tears slip from her eyes and onto his shirt. Ron sucked in a breath and then she felt his other arm softly wrap around her, holding her as she sniffled and shook.
It only took a minute or two for her to regain her composure, but Ron just sat there and held her, slightly rubbing his hand over her back to calm her.
She was so glad he was here. So glad she wasn't alone anymore. She had said goodbye to Draco and… no. Malfoy. He was Malfoy. Her heart contracted painfully.
Hermione pulled back and wiped her eyes, but Ron's shirt had caught most of her tears. She looked down at the two wet spots on it.
"I- I'm sorry, I just-"
"Don't." Ron held her hand. "Hermione, you know that I…" he breathed out. "But that doesn't stop me from being your friend. No matter how I feel, I will always be here for you."
The bruised lump that had been her heart gave a beat. But would he? If he knew… would he hate her?
"Thank you, Ron." It was all she could manage. Hermione slowly pulled her hand out of his and looked back over the Lake before picking up a small grey stone and turning it over in her palm.
"Do you want me to curse him for you?" He joked, trying to make her smile. "I'll do it."
"You don't even know who he is," she murmured.
Ron eyed her carefully then dropped his eyes. "Doesn't matter. He hurt you."
She squeezed the little grey stone in her hand. She took a deep breath. "Just… just stay here with me."
Ron watched her finger the stone.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Avada Kedavra!" Draco pointed his wand at a small bird in a tree but it chipped and flitted away as the green stream of light fell short.
He was going to kill Dumbledore. He was going to do it. He was going to make himself do it.
She wanted Weasley? Fine.
No. Not fine.
"Avada Kedavra!" He missed this time as he aimed at a beetle, closer to him. The shiny black bug scurried away under a log.
Not fucking fine. She loved him. That wasn't something she just got to throw away because she didn't feel like it anymore.
He had tried to do what she asked and stay out of her way. She needed time and… he could give her that. At least a little bit of it. Lull her into a false sense of security and then… strike.
It could be like it was before. They could be happy. He could make her happy. He could make her happy. All she had to do was just fucking come back. Come back to him. He missed her. He missed her so fucking much. Like a limb. Like an organ. And he couldn't stand the awful cracking inside him that just wouldn't fucking stop.
Two days was long enough without her. He knew she had a free period and she normally spent it in the Library so he had walked down every single aisle looking for her. When he had exhausted his search, he followed the path she had taken him on the night he walked her back to her common room. Nothing.
Where was she? Yeah, he was giving her space, but not that fucking much. He had kept to the shadows, but he had watched her. Watched her walk from class to class, head down and shoulders slumped. It made him hurt. Everywhere.
After he finally came to the conclusion that she wasn't in any of the common places of the castle and watched the corridor to the Gryffindor common room for half an hour just in case she walked out, he decided to check the grounds. He made his way down to that oaf Hagrid's shack, knowing she sometimes visited him, but no luck.
Goddamn it, if Potter hadn't had beat him at the beginning of the year and gotten the Felix Felicis, he would have downed the whole vial to try and find her and get her back. He was contemplating what he was going to say when he finally found her, "I love you, come back to me," when he stopped walking.
There. On the far shore of the Lake was Granger. With Weasley.
He didn't like how close they were sitting. He really didn't like it when he put his arm around her and he thought he was going to lose his fucking mind when she threw herself on him.
And he had to sit there, and watch his girl, take comfort in the arms of another man.
Because of him.
Because of what he'd done.
Well, they hadn't seen anything yet.
He wanted to curse Weasley into bloody chunks, but it was himself he was really angry with. He had her, he had her at the point where maybe, maybe, they could have had a future, but he had fucked it all up. It was all his fault.
She wanted to forget, but she couldn't forget him that quick. Even if she tried to distract herself with the likes of Weasley. She couldn't just turn this off because if there was a way to stop these feelings he would have done it long ago and spared himself this scorching, burning love.
"Avada Kedavra!" The green light twisted unnaturally and hit a small furry creature that had been unfortunate enough to stick its head out of its burrow just as Draco was passing by.
Pain, anger, rage, and hurt stormed inside him. She wanted to forget? No. He'd remind her. Remind her who he was. How he felt. How much she loved him.
He… he could fix this. He had fixed the Cabinet and he could fix this too. Fix her. He was cunning. He was resourceful. He was ambitious. If he couldn't get rid of this pain, this love, then she couldn't get rid of him.
He stepped over the long furry rodent, stalking along the edge of the Forest. The killing curse took initiative, intention. He had to mean it, to want it. And there was nothing more that he wanted than her. And if this was the way to do it, then he would.
Draco turned and headed back up to the castle. He wasn't there yet, but he was getting close.
A/N: Literally sat here and wrote this right after I posted the last chapter and as all your lovely reviews were coming in and edited it while I re-read them all over and over. Dear readers, you blew me away. Speechless. And that's saying a lot.
I stay true to my word and give you extra chapters when you give me so many amazing reviews. I'll do call outs and answer questions after the next chapter so if you have them, ask away. I have two questions for you though:
1) Do you prefer the smutty scenes from Hermione or Draco's perspective?
2) I have a playlist that is inspired by this fic, would you want me to ever share any song recs?
Lastly, if all goes according to plan, there are going to be three more chapters of Daylight. I am going to do my best to get them all out on time, but I want to make sure they flow seamlessly together and I'm travelling for my birthday (first time in years I won't be celebrating at Harry Potter world fuck you COVID), but do not despair! I do have a sequel planned for all of you lovely, dear readers.
xx, Ik.
