Bloop

You're no good for me

But baby, I want you, I want

- Diet Mountain Dew, Lana Del Rey

Hermione recognized where she was as soon as her awareness kicked in. If the satin sheets weren't a dead giveaway, then the masculine, spicy scent that always seemed to cling to the room was. The balcony doors to her left were cracked open, allowing the noise of the slight drizzle outside to reach her ears with perfect clarity. She opened her eyes, watching the rain as memories of the previous night plagued her mind.

She turned her head away, pressing her face into the pillow, sobs threatening to wrack her frame. She had never seen a dead body before, and the haunting image of Crouch's blank face and lifeless eyes would stay with her forever. Why did Riddle make her watch? Did he want to make her more inclined to keep her mouth shut? Or was he trying to scare her? Did he get a kick out of frightening people? Her immediate answer to that was yes. Men like Riddle drew great pleasure from striking fear into people. Do you honestly think Draco is any different?

She shook her head, almost frantically so. Draco had to be different, she had to believe that he was, because if he and Riddle were one in the same, what did that say about her? She swallowed, pushing herself up as she stared at the pillow. She had grown attached to the blond man. She didn't know why, he didn't have very many redeeming qualities, but it had happened nonetheless. She sighed, turning over to sit up just as he entered the room.

A tray was in his hand, and he made his way over to her with a plate of food and glass of orange juice. Hermione pulled the sheet over her shoulders as he sat next to her, placing the platter in her lap.

"Morning…"

There was a brief pause before she replied.

"Morning," she murmured.

He looked down, gathering some eggs on a fork before lifting it towards her. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I know I had a rough night, but I'm perfectly capable of feeding-."

"Just let me spoil you. Please…," he interrupted.

Hermione stared at the frown marring his features before reluctantly closing her mouth over the utensil.

"How are you feeling?"

"Honestly? I don't know," she said, looking out of the balcony windows again.

She suddenly looked down, playing with the sheets.

"I watched my best friend put a bullet through someone's head like it was nothing…and I helped him do it."

Draco didn't reply, sensing that she wasn't finished.

"The night Riddle kidnapped me, I knew then that I had gotten myself into something I could never imagine. Of course, once I found out that the only reason he'd done so was because of you, I wanted to curse you. I wanted to hate you, I still want to hate you. I would love nothing more than to blame you for all of this..."

She stared at him, holding his gaze.

"…but the truth is, I'm to blame too. Some might say that you made me an offer that I couldn't refuse. We both know that's not true. I took the easy way out. I could have said no, it would have been hard on me and my parents, very hard, but I could've said no, nonetheless. I had a choice…and I chose."

Draco sighed.

"Do you regret saying yes?"

Hermione's response was immediate.

"Yes. Yes, I do. Right now, in this very moment, I wish that I had never met you, Draco," she whispered.

Draco was not visibly bothered by this.

"Fair enough," he said.

"Last night was the most traumatic night of my life. It's funny… Before I met you, the night Ron left me currently held that title. I can't even put into words how he made me feel, but that was nothing compared to the night Riddle was holding a gun to my face. Nothing in comparison to being in a room alone with a stranger, groping me, pulling a gun on me, and watching him beg for his life. Watching my best friend…," Hermione trailed off, looking away.

Hermione knew what she'd gotten herself into. She'd known that the night Riddle had taken her, but did she really know? Could she really have known what kind of trouble she was in? She thought that she did, but it was clear that after last night, she didn't know anything.

She was shaken out of her thoughts by a soft clinking noise, like metal tapping metal.

She looked up at Draco, meeting his gaze before dragging her eyes downwards to land on the trey in her lap. The silence was tense and uncomfortable as she straightened up, sharply inhaling.

Next to her plate, right in front of her orange juice, was a gun. It was small and silver, golden trimming framing the weapon. Hermione wasn't sure what this meant, at least, that was until she took note of the small initials engraved in the bottom left corner of the handle. Those were her initials, plain as day in gold.

"What is this?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"It's yours-."

"No. No," Hermione said, shaking her head, attempting to push it away from her.

"Hermione," he called after her as she stood, walking towards the windows.

"No, Draco. I can't-."

"You will. Take it," he said, walking towards her and pushing it into her hands.

"I-."

"Yes, you can. Take it, Hermione…"

Hermione did not meet his eyes, and he placed both of his hands on her head, lifting her face.

"Last night was nothing."

Hermione swallowed.

"It was nothing in comparison to what I've seen him do, in comparison to what we both know he's capable of," his harsh, yet truthful words did nothing to ease her mind.

He pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I'm going to get you out of there, and I'll make sure that your friends will be safe. I'm working on it, but it's going to take time. Time that I'd rather not give him," he murmured against her skin.

He pulled away, staring into her eyes.

"I'm not always going to be there. Blaise is not always going to be there, and neither will your BFF. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Hermione looked down at the object in her hand, turning it over in her fingers with a nod.

"You will keep this on you at all times."

She looked up in shock, eyebrows furrowed.

"Draco…I can't… There's school and…,"she trailed off as he gripped her shoulders.

There was something in his eyes that she did not recognize, that she couldn't name. Whatever it was, it forced her to really listen.

"Keep this on you at all times. I don't care where you are, you do not leave home without it."

She reluctantly nodded.

"You ever find yourself in a situation that's going left fast… If you think you're in danger, if something doesn't feel right… You shoot first, and ask questions later. Don't worry about anything else, I'll take care of it. You just worry about protecting yourself."

She nodded. The gun was small, small enough for her hands to handle, and small enough to hide.

"Nott taught you how to use it, right?"

She nodded.

"At least he's good for something. He always was a good shot," he said.

Hermione suddenly blinked, Draco's words and memories of the previous night striking something within her.

"Teddy said that he used to work for you…"

"…yes, he did."

Draco had been slow to answer, and Hermione suddenly grew nervous.

"What did he do?"

"The same thing he does for Riddle, I imagine…"

Hermione recalled the expectant tone Riddle had towards Theo, recalled how effortless it had been for him to take a life. A cold chill passed through Hermione, and she had the sudden urge to be sick.

"…and what is that?"

Draco exhaled, running his hands down her arms.

"You're a smart girl, Hermione. I think you know the answer to that."

Hermione stumbled back, her shoulders connecting with the wall, eyes troubled.

"He kills people? Like…that's his legitimate job description?"

"Hitman is the term you're looking for, but…," he trailed off as Hermione shook her head.

She was certain that she didn't want to hear anything else. She fought to wrap her head around this new piece of information, but the buzzing sound of her phone prevented her from doing so. Draco sighed, looking over his shoulder.

"It's been going off all morning…"

Hermione sprinted past him, picking it up as soon as it stopped. She noted three missed calls from a number she did not recognize, five from Harry, and eight from Ginny. Hermione's heart started to race, worried that something had happened, something Riddle related. That was until she remembered what day it was and that she, Harry, and Ginny had all agreed on brunch.

Hermione pressed her hand to her forehead with a sigh.

"I'm supposed to be meeting up with them. I completely forgot, and they're probably…losing their minds," she said in exasperation.

"You barely ate anything," Draco said, stepping up beside her.

"I know, and I'm sorry. Tell Timothy that I wasn't feeling well or something-."

"I gave Timothy the day off. I cooked it, actually," he quietly interrupted, avoiding her eyes.

Hermione blinked in surprised, a small smile gracing her lips.

"You? You can cook…?"

"I've been known to do it when the occasion calls for it…"

"Well…thank you. I'm sorry that I didn't eat it," she said.

Draco grabbed his jacket.

"Come on, I'll give you a lift."

"Hey, don't forget this…"

Hermione clutched the gun in her hand as he gave it to her before sliding it inside of her purse. Draco clutched the steering wheel as he looked over her shoulder, his gaze on something outside.

"Is that your friend?"

Hermione turned to see Ginny standing on the sidewalk, coat wrapped around her frame as she waited for Hermione.

"Yeah," Hermione said, reaching for the door handle.

His hand covered hers, forcing her to look at him.

"I'm hosting a game tonight… I would really like it if you would be there," he said, his intense gaze causing her face to heat up.

Hermione nodded.

"Yeah…yeah, I'll come by."

He smirked, pressing his lips against hers as he opened her door.

"Be careful," he murmured.

"Take your own advice," she whispered against his lips.

He sped off just as Hermione caught Ginny's eyes.

"Bloody hell! Where have you been? We were getting a bit scared," Ginny exclaimed.

"I overslept, and didn't hear my phone, and-."

"You were lounging around with a beautiful man," Ginny interrupted, coming to a stop in front of her friend.

Hermione paused, an awkward chuckle escaping.

"…what?"

Ginny rolled her eyes with a smile.

"That's the kind of car rich guys drive to show off just how much money they have. Look, I'm not judging. I don't care how douche-y he may or may not be. Just tell me that you're finally having sex again, and he's gorgeous."

Hermione couldn't keep a straight face for long.

"Fine. I'm having sex again, and he's gorgeous. Happy now?"

"Very. What's his name?" Ginny asked, looping her arm through Hermione's.

"That's…not important, right now."

"Have it your way. I'll find out soon enough. I'm just happy that someone is finally making you glow. You deserve it, and it's been long overdue," Ginny said, walking Hermione towards the café.

She suddenly stopped, pressing her lips together.

"What?"

Ginny gave Hermione a sheepish look before sighing.

"Ron's here too…"

Hermione looked towards the sky, exhaling.

"Joy."

"He overheard us talking yesterday and kind of just invited himself along. I think he just wants to see you," Ginny said.

"It's fine, Gin. He's your brother and Harry's best friend. I can't not interact with him, at all. It's unrealistic of me to think so."

"I'm sorry, nonetheless…"

"Just like old times, huh," Hermione sarcastically replied just before walking inside.

Harry embraced her as soon as she made it to their table.

"Glad to know you're alive. Ginny almost had us sending out a search party," Harry said, relief evident in his voice.

"You know how dramatic she gets, Harry. I was perfectly fine…"

Hermione nodded at Ron as she sat down.

"It turns out she was in good hands, Harry. I had no reason to worry," Ginny said with a smile, waving down a server.

"I wasn't worried. I just figured you were nursing a hangover," Ron said.

Hermione frowned, two pairs of eyes flitting between the two of them.

"What are you talking about?"

Ron laughed, but Hermione didn't know what was amusing.

"Were you that drunk? We ran into each other last night…"

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Of course, I remember, Ronald. I was just very confused because I wasn't drunk. Not in the slightest," she said.

"You looked pretty out of it to me," he responded.

"I was a lot of things last night, but under the influence of alcohol or drugs wasn't one of them."

Ginny decided to cut in at that moment, sensing the growing tension, no doubt.

"I didn't know you two ran into each other. Neither one of you mentioned that…"

"I was at Mamba with a friend," Hermione answered.

Ginny looked taken back.

"Mamba? I never thought I'd see the day where you'd actually step foot in a place like that…"

"Like I said, I was with a friend. It was my first time, and I don't really see myself going back," she lied.

"Good. I don't think I've heard one good thing about that club since it opened," Harry interjected.

"Eh, it's not so bad," Ron disagreed.

Hermione let the conversation flow around her, opting to ignore Ron's presence as much as possible. She didn't understand why he was trying to laugh and joke with her like they were old friends. Truth be told, the minute Ginny told her that Ron had come as well, she'd wanted to leave. However, that would have been cowardly. She wasn't going to let her personal feelings about Ron interfere with her friendships.

They ate, and it wasn't long before the topic drifted to Harry and Ginny's wedding. They'd been having some difficulties with a caterer and the location. Ginny informed Hermione that it was just some miscommunication issues, but Hermione could tell that it was a deeper issue that Ginny was genuinely worried about. They'd just begun to discuss the number of guests when Ginny had to excuse herself to take a call.

"200? Seriously, Harry? Do the two of you even know 200 people?"

"It's not that bad, Ron," Harry said.

"You're letting her turn this into a complete circus, mate. She's my sister. I can drop some not so subtle hints if you need me to," Ron offered.

"Come off it, Ronald. If Harry had a problem with it, he'd say so."

"I'm just saying. If it were my wedding-."

"…but it's not."

Before Ron had a chance to reply, Ginny came stumbling over, face horror stricken. Hermione reached out towards her friend.

"Ginny…"

"The idiot lady on the phone let someone else book our place for the same day. The same time!"

Harry stood, attempting to appease his fiancé.

"We only have a few months left. Now, we have to scramble to find another venue and…," she trailed off, visibly upset, eyes glassy.

"We'll figure something out, Gin."

Ginny snatched up her coat, grabbing her purse along with it.

"We have to sort this out. I'm sorry-."

"Ginny, it's fine. We understand," Hermione said.

As Harry said goodbye to Ron, Ginny threw her a sympathetic look, knowing that she was leaving Hermione alone with her brother. Hermione waved her off, understanding the severity of the situation. Hermione stood as soon as they left, reaching for her phone, Teddy's number on her fingertips.

"I can take you home, Mione…"

"It's fine, Ronald. You should go, I'll get a ride," she said.

"Hermione…come on. Just…let me drive you home. Please," he pleaded.

Hermione sighed, knowing just how stubborn and annoying he could be. She reluctantly grabbed her purse.

"Alright…"

Neither one of them said anything as they exited the café and made their way to his car. It was a nice silver car, modest, but nice. Hermione hoped that she wouldn't come to regret her decision. She hoped that he'd drive her home, she'd say thanks, and that would be the end of it.

As he made his way down the busy streets, the once comfortable silence in the car began to come alive with tension. It was obvious that Ron had something weighing on his mind, and Hermione guessed that her hopes would be crushed. It wasn't long before she was proven right as they came to a stop light, Ron's soft voice filling the vehicle.

"Is this how it's going to be?"

Hermione repressed the urge to sigh.

"What are you on about, Ronald?"

"This! Us! Is this how it's going to be from now on? You barely spoke to me at all back there, and now it's like I'm not here, at all."

"I fail to see where your confusion stems from. What exactly did you expect? Did you really think that we could ever be friends? What could I possibly have to say to you? Are we going to talk about what we've both been up to for the past two years? The weather? Classes? Enlighten me, please…"

Ron didn't respond right away, and he pressed the gas as the light turned green.

"I know I did a terrible thing-."

"I'm glad you know," she interrupted.

"I regret what I did every morning that I wake up. It was cowardly…it was shitty. I want to make it up to you…"

"You can't, Ronald. Okay? Let's just get that off of the table, right now, because there is no possible way that you could ever make this right. The best thing you can do is to leave me alone," she replied.

"I still care about you, so much. I never got over you, Hermione."

Hermione sighed, looking out of the window.

"I'm sorry to hear that," was her only response.

"Why are you being like this? I know that I don't even deserve talking to you, but… You've always been a bit cynical, a bit cheeky, but never…"

She turned to look at him then.

"Never what? Cold? A bitch? That's kind of what happens when the love of your life tells you that he cheated on you three times with the same girl, and then runs off with said girl in the middle of the night, leaving you to wonder what happened, picking up the pieces of your life and not even knowing where to start."

They'd reached her house now, and Hermione hopped out of the car with no hesitation. As she made her way to her door, her movements were halted. She spun around to face him with a huff.

A frown marred his features as his eyes sought out her own.

"I was the love of your life?"

Hermione let out a humorless laugh, completely floored that he didn't know this, despite how obvious she'd made it in the past.

"I'm only going to say this once, because I really don't want to have this conversation ever again… I looked at you like you hung the moon, Ronald.

I loved you for as long as I could remember. I never cared about what Ginny or anyone else had to say. They told me that I could do better, and that I was too good for you, but I didn't care. I didn't want better, Ron. I just wanted you. I was just happy to be with you. I would have given you everything, but that wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough… I never would have done to you what you did to me."

Ron looked away.

"I'm not going to lie. It's nice to know that you regret what you did, that its eating you up inside, and you can't forget about me. However, you broke me. I was the worst possible version of myself when you left, and I would love nothing more than to forget about you. You've done enough to me, Ronald. The least you could do is let me have that…"

She walked away from him, leaving him to stand on her sidewalk.

"Betting on two sixes again? Pushing your luck, eh Malfoy?"

"Luck is believing you're lucky, Pucey, so I'll take my chances," Draco hissed.

He turned towards her, the dice clasped in his fist as he held it out towards her. A playful smirk graced his lips as his eyes met hers.

"Wish me luck?"

She fought back a smile, having done this the past seven rolls. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to the exposed palm of his hand.

"Good luck," she murmured.

His eyes never left hers as he shook his hand, tossing the dice onto the table. A grin spread across his face as he heard Pucey curse.

"Unbelievable," the dark haired man scoffed.

Draco finally turned away from her, reaching out to collect his money.

"Better luck next time, mate," Draco said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

They both stood, two other men taking their places as Draco reached out to help her stand. She'd had more to drink than she thought. His lips were on hers as soon as she was on her feet, his fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer. Draco didn't seem to mind the room full of partygoers, many eyes drifting to the two of them.

"Draco…people are watching," she gasped into his mouth.

"Let them," he hissed.

She pulled away with a chuckle.

"Have you no decency?"

He wrapped his arm around her waist, leading her out of the room.

"This is my building. I own it, meaning I can do whatever the fuck I want. If I wanted to make love to you on that table, I could, and there wouldn't be a damn thing they could do about it," he said as he led them into the long, familiar hallway.

She looked at him with wide eyes.

"I'm joking…"

She shoved his chest.

"No, you weren't, you pervert!"

"Wanting to have sex with my lover makes me a pervert?"

Hermione's back connected with the wall as she fisted her hands into his shirt.
"Lover… Is that what I am, now?"

Draco leaned one of his hands on the wall beside her head, leaning in.

"Well, unless someone else is leaving marks in between those pretty thighs of yours…"

"Shut up," Hermione said, face heating up.

He brushed his nose against hers, bringing her bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Do you deny it?" he asked against her lips.

"Maybe," she said, pressing her lips against his.

The loud noise of rowdy people faded into the background as he wrapped his arms around her. Her feet were lifted from the ground as he spun her around. He pulled his lips away, trailing them along her jaw.

"…but you are. My lover, mon chaton…"

He looked down at her, the intense gaze in his bright eyes causing her to swallow. He brought his hand up, brushing her hair away from her face as he raked his eyes over her, unsure of where to settle them, taking her in.

"…you're my lucky charm, and I am a firm believer in luck."

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