Dramione Prompt #1: "Can you feel this?"
Hermione Granger tried to find the rhythm of the tiny pops and crackles coming from the fireplace as she was swayed from one foot to the other, long, slender arms holding her against a longer and leaner frame. She knew that the small sounds were sporadic and unpredictable and she found that she rather preferred it that way, it was perfectly them.
The flames of the fire warmed her from the outside, but it was the presence of the man wrapped around her that had her insides melting as if she were a wax-lit candle. He was all hard lines and sharp features, where as she was softer and rounded edges. Still, they found themselves drawn to one another, as if primordial bits of string tied them together long before this life or the one beforehand.
She wasn't sure how long they had been standing there, swaying in each other's arms, as time passed with the ascension of the moon in the pitch-black sky. She could feel the stress leave her body as she leaned into him, as if he could physically syphon the heaviness from her bones. She knew this was impossible, but she was grateful nonetheless, making her hum her contentment as they continued their silent dancing.
At first, the way their bodies had immediately recognized each other intimately when they had first started dating was unsettling and caused many episodes of awkwardness and shyness, but as they grew closer together, it was more than either of them had expected, it had become second nature to seek each other out and encase themselves in the other's presence.
It was if the bodies, their souls, had recognized each other from past lives that neither one of them remembered. Hermione was almost certain she would never forget the feeling of being wrapped in Draco Malfoy's arms, but there were just some things that even her practical and empirical mind couldn't explain and perhaps, for once, she didn't feel the need to. She was content to just let whatever this was unfold between them, taking each moment as it came to them and just being together.
Neither one of them had spoken since he had crossed the floor of the private library they had both been silently reading in for that evening, plucking the first edition Hogwarts: A History text from her grasp. She had opened her mouth to protest, but instantly stopped when she saw the quirk of a smile at the left corner of his lips. Her eyes had then fell down to the hand that was stretched out to her in a silent invitation. Her eyebrow hitching upwards in a silent question, she allowed him to pull her up to her feet as soon as she placed her small hand in his.
He hadn't wasted any time pulling her body flush against his own, his right arm snaking around her small waist and his left hand drawing her right one to his chest. It was an old magic, pure instinct, that had them moving and molding to one another until they perfectly fit like two pieces of a puzzle against each other. She had laid her head on the other side of his chest, opposite her hand and he had settled his chin atop the soft, untamed curls of her head.
Hermione felt her eyes flutter shut as the fingertips at her back drew small patterns into her back, teasing her skin through the thin fabric of her blouse as heat shot up her spine. A small purr escaped from between her lips as she instinctively pushed against and was reward by his subsequent pushback with his hips. She could feel the beginning of his arousal stir beneath his trousers and she felt her cheeks flare with warmth, chastising herself for acting like a shy school girl after nearly three years of dating, but if she was being honest, feeling like this, with Draco, was still so new to her. She never expected to feel the feelings they she did when she was with him.
At first, she had expected his teasing and hurtful taunts when faced with her uncharacteristic shyness and apprehension when it came to their intimacy, but she had quickly realized that that was what she expected of the old Draco and she would never be caught dead in his arms. This Draco was a new man, a better person and he only showed her kindness and gentleness. He never pressured her into anything she wasn't ready for and often just held her in his strong and patient arms.
Hermione also found that, since the war, Draco had changed in the fact that he no longer used his words to harm other. Instead, he was rather quiet and only spoke when he actually had something to say and never saying anything he didn't mean. She knew that there were a lot of things he wanted to say, but knew that the war had cost him a great deal and so she never pushed him. Besides, Hermione was of the mind that actions spoke louder than words unequivocally.
Deep down, Hermione was okay with the silence, it suited them. It allowed them to connect in other ways- through sight, touch, or smell. Words became meaningless when over used and so when they spoke to one another, they made sure it was from the heart.
Lifting her chin to look at the man who was changing her life and her heart, Hermione felt herself falling more and more for the stoic man wrapped around her even more than she though possible. She imagined what her thirteen-year-old self would say if she saw her now, admiring the sharp lines of his face and the way that his intense gray eyes never failed to make her shutter in anticipation whenever he looked her way. She imagined that her younger self would cast the largest Bat-Bogey Hex at her Draco before pulling her unceremoniously from the library prattling on about foul loathsome, evil little cockroaches.
"Granger," Draco tutted disapprovingly from above her, "Do you know how emasculating it is for a woman to start giggling when a bloke is trying to romance her?"
Hermione winced, unaware that she had laughed out loud when her imagination had gotten the better of her. "Sorry," she said shyly as she turned her head up to look at him, those steel, gray eyes looking down at him with slight amusement in them.
She smiled back at him before lifting herself onto the tip of her toes, placing a small kiss at the corner of his mouth, disappearing quickly before he could capture her mouth with his.
"Tease," he muttered and she could hear the smirk in his voice as he settled his cheek against the crown of her head as they continued swaying back and forth. She felt incredibly small when they were this close together, but she never felt intimidated or afraid. Instead, she found herself feeling stronger, almost invincible, knowing that he would do anything for her. She knew the same of herself. She would do anything for him. It was freeing and a bit grounding all at the same time. Perhaps it was lo-
Hermione stopped, the word cutting off in her over active brain, a million other thoughts swirling around her head in its wake. Did she really feel this way about him? Was she old enough to know the difference between infatuation and…that other thing? How could she know for certain?
Hermione's brow creased into a frown as she thought hard about the feelings she felt burning themselves into her very bones like a brand. A part of her knew this was it, he was it and that any other possibility was laughable, at best. However, another side of her, a slightly louder part was cautioning her not to allow the unpredictable nature of feelings to rule over her good judgment, but Hermione was tired of being the practical one, the smart one. She just wanted be a girl in lo- well, that other thing.
Mentally nodding once to herself, Hermione burrowed into Draco's chest, tilting her nose until it found her favorite spot to inhale his familiar scent. It was a mixture of expensive cologne with an underlying saltiness of male sweat, it was undeniably him. It stirred something deep within her to know that she could identify him with scent alone, something primal awakening in her whenever she took in a deep breath when she was so close to him. She had felt him do the same thing to her and wondered what he smelled when his nose was buried in her neck.
She felt a purr of contentment wash over her when his familiar scent surrounded her and she was rewarded when he pulled her infinitely closer. Logically, Hermione knew that the laws of physics stated that two objects could not occupy the same space at any given time, but she knew that she would be content to spend every day of her life trying to defy the very laws of matter with him if he would have her.
Shifting in his arms, Hermione linked her hands around his neck and stared up at him as looked back at her, his own hands falling to grip her waist. She felt a flutter in her stomach as he imperceptively dug his thumbs into her skin beneath her navel and it was enough to make her want to throw him down right then and there. He was all hard lines and sharp features whereas she was softer and had more rounded features, but she supposed there was a beautiful symmetry in being completely opposite of the person you cherished most in this uncertain and unpredictable world.
She wanted him here and now, tomorrow and the day after that and so on and so forth. She wanted to face the sun with him every day and watch the moon rise far above their heads at the closing of the night. She wanted to laugh with him, crying with him, fight with him. She wanted to grow old with him and never leave his side until she was ripped away on her last breath as he held her like this in his arms.
She knew this man was scarred and broken, beaten and bruised just as she was after having fought a war they were too young to fight in, but she felt the flames burning between them, making them stronger, forging them into better versions of themselves. And she wanted to explore what that meant with him by her side.
Her eyes fell from his and down to his lips, their softness calling to her as her own lips tingled in anticipation. She licked her lips as her right hand pushed his head gently down to her own before her lips took his. He let her lead, telling him things that she was too nervous to share just yet between them and he seemed to understand, telling her what he could in the way he pulled her closer, sliding his tongue along her lower lip.
She opened up to him and lost herself in the moment as they explored each other's mouths, exchanging the same air as if they were the same organism. They finally separated when she dropped herself back down on her heels, hungry for breath as her swollen lips pounded with the rush of blood beneath her skin. She looked up at him and watched him study her, his own lips puffy under her assault and something akin to pride swelled in her chest, giving her an extra dose of the familiar Gryffindor courage, she was famous for all her life.
"Draco?" she whispered, her voice coming out lower from the arousal she felt after that kiss and nervously clearing her throat as her cheeks heated up with embarrassment one again. She saw him smirk in pride at how he had caused her to react to his kisses and she felt herself smile back.
"Draco," she tried again, happier with how she sounded the second time. "I- um, I want to tell you something."
He continued to stare at her, but she saw the softness deepen a little more, giving her the confidence to continue. She cupped his cheek in her hand, her thumb brushing over the slight pink tinge from the heat of their passion evident on his face.
"I just want you to know," she said, making sure that her eyes emphasized her next words, "that I love you."
Hermione felt Draco's body lock up against her own and his eyes grew a faraway look within them. She didn't know what to expect from him, and her first reaction was to curl away and apologize for being so brazen, but she held her ground, holding his cheek in her palm.
Finally, after what amounted to be a century of waiting, Hermione felt as Draco begin to relax against her once more, his eyes coming back to her own, only this time, she found it a little difficult to read, which was a little unsettling.
She saw from the corner of her eye, his hand reach up to cover her own along his cheek. "I know," he murmured into her hand keeping it there so he could turn his head to press a kiss into her palm. She felt her chest tighten at the intimacy of the act and she smiled up at him, feeling the familiar sting of tears begin to prickle at the back of her eyes.
He stared at her for a moment, his eyes looking back and forth between her own and she imagined that his thoughts were racing just as fast if not faster with what he wanted to say next.
"Hermione," he finally said, "I-
"Don't," she interrupted, sliding the tips of her fingers over his mouth to quiet him. "You don't have to say anything back to me, Draco. I just wanted to let you know how I felt."
Draco stared at her, as if contemplating something that she couldn't see, but she wouldn't ask him about it. She had fully expected for him to accept her words quietly with nothing in return. She knew the man she loved and would never dream of forcing him to say out loud anything before he was ready to share it with her on his own. For once, Hermione Granger didn't need an answer. She was content in knowing that she had finally found happiness and could see a life worth living. She could finally see a future that was worth fighting for.
She gave him a reassuring smile before she dropped her fingers from his moist lips, letting them rest again on his chest, laying her head beside them and watched as she traced invisible patterns in the black breast pocket of his dress shirt. The room was silent again, but she didn't mind because she found that she didn't need empty noises clogging up the space around them. She could tell that another piece of her heart had been filled that night and that was enough for her. As long as she could be here with him, like this, for always, she could be happy, truly happy.
Hermione nearly jumped when the ghostly touch of large fingers grazed against her forearm, not stopping until the clasped around her right hand, pressing it gently further into his skin.
"Can you feel this?" Draco whispered into her untamed curls, using his index finger to emphasize the rhythmic beating of his heart beneath her palm. "Can you feel the way my heart beats only when you are near and no one else?"
It was Hermione's turn to freeze as his words poured over her like water, filling every pore and every crack, sealing every broken piece inside of her and making her nearly buckle under the weight of it all.
"Yes." She could only mutter the one word, not trusting herself to say much else as her own heart pounded in her chest. She knew the lines that were drawn in his statement, the promises unsaid, the expectations acknowledged. There was no going back, for either of them, but she didn't find an ounce of regret anywhere in her body or in the reflection of his eyes.
"We both know that the war cost me a great deal, Hermione," Draco spoke above her, bringing her chin up so he could look into her eyes, searching for something. She looked back at him, trying to give to him whatever he was looking for with just her eyes. "I am afraid that one day, the way will take you away from me," he added. "I don't want to lose you."
"The war is over, Draco," Hermione reminded him, brushing his barely trembling lips with the briefest touch of her lips. "I am your's for as long as you'll have me," she added. "I'm not going anywhere."
She saw his posture relax a little bit more with her admission, his eyes soaking her in and drawing her to him. She lifted herself up on her tippy toes and kissed him fully on the lips, falling into the slow rhythm of their earlier one, only this one was slightly different because it was different. That could both feel it, the promise, that sealed itself between them.
"Good," Draco replied when they finally released each other, slow pants for air the only noise between them. "I don't plan on ever letting you go."
Hermione smiled and felt herself lifted off the floor as her lips met his once more.