A/N: Hi All! A special thank you to BeachGirl114, takingflight4, decadenceofmysoul, jacpin2002, and renowned-warrior for commenting on the last chapter! I really appreciate it!
Update: I no longer feel like a sad noodle so I have a regular size chapter for you guys this week.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
As always, enjoy!
Chapter 5:
November 1995— 6th year
Harry nudged Hermione for the 9th time that evening, nodding over to the Slytherin table. Hermione's eyes fell on Malfoy. He was picking at his food and seeming to ignore an animated story Blaise Zabini was telling.
Harry was convinced that Malfoy was up to something, and Hermione couldn't voice how much she disagreed even if she had all the time in the world. It was evident that he was distressed. His Seeker build becoming lithe and treated out as he lost weight. His hair had lost its sheen, and his eyes were hollow, dark circles surrounding them.
Hermione didn't want to admit that she felt a pang of pity for the boy.
His father was in Azkaban, and his mother was alone… Not to mention the war with Voldemort looming over everyone's head was already pressure enough.
Hermione sighed, looking back down at her plate, her appetite suddenly gone.
"There he goes," Harry muttered under his breath, announcing Malfoy walking out of the Great Hall, leaving his food uneaten.
"Just leave him alone, Harry," Hermione muttered.
"But 'Mione—" Harry began, but at the brunette witch's cold glare, he snapped his mouth shut, turning back down at his dinner.
With a huff, Hermione stood, "If you're so concerned, go to Dumbledore," Hermione said, swinging her book bag over her shoulder, stomping out of the Great Hall, the last thing she heard was Ron asking "what's up with her?" with his mouth full before she drowned it all out.
Hermione made her way through the halls, put out by the evening's events. She walked without caring where she as going, hoping to find an empty classroom where no one would find her to do some much-needed reading.
Unfortunately, every available room not filled with random furniture and dust had couples snogging.
Surely, this castle would have one classroom free.
Hermione went up a floor, huffing in frustration. Harry's obsession with Malfoy, Ron, was running around thinking that he was doing it secretly, and Dumbledore keeping a queer eye on everything that doesn't involve the war.
Hermione huffed again, checking every classroom once again for a useable one. Hermione turned the knob of the first door by the stairs but found it locked. She was about to walk away she heard a crash along with a string of curses.
Hermione quickly whipped out her wand and whispered Alohomora towards the lock. The door slowly cracked open, and Hermione pushed in, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the dark room. The room itself was stacked high with desks and chairs, cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and dust over every visible surface.
"Hello?" Hermione asked, her wand still drawn, "Is everything okay in here?"
There was movement on the other side of the room, and Hermione held her wand tighter. "I know there is someone in here, come out. Now."
Hermione waited for a beat, and she was about to shoot off a spell when she saw the top of someone's head rise from behind one of the stacks of desks.
"Lumos." Hermione said, and to her surprise, she came face to face with the tear stained face of Draco Malfoy. Hermione's grip on her wand faltered, "Malfoy… are—are you okay?"
Malfoy gave an attempt of a sneer, but it came out looking more like a grimace. "I'm fine, Granger," he said, his voice raw from crying.
Hermione gave a sad smile, she reached into her pocket with her free hand and pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with her initials, and held it out for the troubled blond. Malfoy stiffened and eyed her suspiciously before he saw the soft pink fabric in the brunette's hand. His shoulders slumped forward and took it from her. When their fingers brushed, Hermione almost jumped, his hands were so cold. Almost like ice.
"Thank you, Granger," he whispered, cleaning his tracks of tears, lightly sniffling as he did so.
Hermione took half a step back at Malfoy's words, expecting almost anything but a thank you.
"It's not a problem, Malfoy," Hermione replied, and when he tried to hand the handkerchief back, Hermione shook her head, "No. Keep it."
The wizard tucked the pink square away into his robes. He sank to the floor and leaned back, stains the leg of a desk. Hermione followed suit, dropping her bag beside her, shuddering at the reminder that the floors haven't been cleaned since Merlin walked the earth.
She was elated, however, when Malfoy didnt scoot away.
The two sat in awkward silence, Hermione watching Malfoy from the corner of her eye, and Malfoy watching anything else. Eventually, Hermione realized that she would have to be the one to speak first.
She sighed.
"Do— Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked.
"No," Malfoy said, effectively ending the conversation. "Why are you here, Granger?"
"I heard a crash," she replied, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, "I wanted to make sure no one was hurt."
Malfoy nodded, taking in a deep breath, one after another. He let his head fall back, and he closed his eyes, Hermione took the opportunity to look at the wizards face. Hermione knew that he was only 16, but Merlin, he looked like he had aged ten years over the last few months. His skin was shallow and pale, heavy bags hung under his eyes, and he was so gaunt that Hermione was worried that if he were to stand, he would collapse. She let her eyes travel down to his hands that laid flat on his thighs.
He did have beautiful hands. Long fingers that were slightly pink at the tips. Soft. His hands were made to pluck the strings of a harp, to dance along with the keys of a piano.
"I should get going," Hermione sighed, "and please eat something, you're very thin." Hermione said, gathering her bag and heading towards the door.
"Careful, Granger, one might say that you're worried," Malfoy said, to her back, something that Hermione couldn't decipher, coloring his voice.
"I am." was all Hermione said before he walked through the threshold, closing the door beings her tightly.
..:: ::..
July 1997— Present
"Draco," Hermione breathed.
She pulled the wizard into her room, shutting the door. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, her fingers weaving into his hair as she held him close. Draco's arms carefully wrapped around her waist, holding her delicately to his chest.
"Hermione," he whispered into the witch's hair, his arms growing tighter around her, "I've missed you."
Hermione pulled back and looked up to the man in front of her, her body vibrating with joy, "I've missed you, too." She gasped, her emotions threatening to drown her. "But you shouldn't be here."
Draco released her, bringing up his hands to cup her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "I want to be."
Hermione smiled up at the blond, her hands sliding from his hair, down his neck, to his chest. Slowly, and almost painfully, Draco pulled away, almost shrugging Hermione off. Hermione looked at the blond with concern, decided it was best to sit and wait until he was ready to open up. So that's what she did, she settled on the plush comforter of her four-poster bed and waited.
Draco pretended to be interested in the things on her vanity, but by the way his hand twitched, he had much bigger things on his mind.
"I'm sorry I soundly see you sooner… I didnt want you to get in trouble… I tried to come, but my mum wouldn't let me in."
Hermione nodded, "I heard you at the door." Hermione said, "I don't want you to do anything that puts you at risk. Riddle isn't too keen that his granddaughter is pregnant, so it's best if you keep it to yourself. And before you ask, no, I didn't know until last month."
His mouth pressed into a hard thin line, one that Hermione would expect to see on Snape. He nodded tensely
"I— er," Draco began, "I wanted to see how you are after Bellatrix."
Hermione swallowed thickly, "If you remember, it's not the first time I've been under her wand. And anyway, the potions your mum gave me made me as good as new."
Draco paled, and his eyes hardened, and Hermione was sure that if the vile of potion he was staring at, it would have died then and there.
He turned his head to Hermione, looking at her carefully.
"The Dark Lord tortured her, you know," Hermione's eyes widened, and Draco realized his mistake, "Bellatrix, not my mum. He found out she silenced you until she cursed you, so he did the same."
Hermione frowned, "I didn't want that, she might be a crazy bitch, but she didn't deserve that."
Draco shrugged as though it was a common occurrence like rain in the spring, "I would have done the same… worse even, if I'm ever given the chance."
Hermione's magic crackled around her, "You will not," she commanded, "you will let your aunt be. If Riddle could go from bat shit crazy to at least partially sane, so could she."
Draco hummed, "Whatever you say, but if she does it again, she'll get what coming."
Draco and Hermione stared at each other. A battle of wills Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to win. Oh, she wanted the witch dead, but not if it would cause Draco's death too.
"We need to talk," Draco said, turning to her completely, squaring his shoulders.
Hermione's brows knotted together, but she nodded none-the-less. There was something in his eyes; worry, anxiety, and, worst of all, heartbreak. He crossed his arms to hide his shaking hands, though Hermione could till see the tremors, and leaned against the vanity.
"I need to know," Draco whispered, "are you and Weasly… is it—" he paused, staking in a shutting breath, his eyes growing moist, "I need to know."
The way his voice cracked at the end made Hermione's stomach twist.
"Draco." Hermione said softly, "It's yours."
All the tension left the wizard's shoulders; his eyes lit up for a moment before they darkened. He walked overtop the bed, dropping himself onto it. The blond buried his head in his hands.
"I'm so sorry," Draco said, "I didn't mean for this to happen. Oh, god, I'm sorry."
Hermione wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to the bed, his head towards the pillows. He fought her for a fleeting moment, but the persisted. Hermione removed his loafers and pulled his legs onto the bed.
This wasn't the first time she had done this, no, and it wouldn't be the last.
"Close your eyes, Draco," Hermione said, brushing his golden locks from his forehead. She laid behind him, wrapping her arm around Draco, her Draco.
Draco turned and wrapped his arms around Hermione, holding her tightly. She played her head on his chest like she did all those months ago before his task was complete. Draco sighed, burying his face in her hair. Hermione snuggled into his chest, a happy hum escaping her, the steady beating of her heart grounding her, ensuring her that this was real.
"What are we going to do?" Draco mumbled into Hermione's hair.
"I don't know," Hermione said, "but for now, we need to focus on the war… everything else could wait… we'll figure it out."
Draco remained silent, but Hermione pressed on.
"We'll be okay."
Hermione burrowed as close as she could to the blond, savoring every moment of contact she could. But the moment was short-lived, cut off by a hiss from Draco. He gripped his left forearm, his nails digging into the sleeve of his Oxford shirt.
"I'm being summoned," Draco said, "I have to go."
He got up in a hurry, still clutching his forearm as the pain got stronger. "I'll try and see you soon."
He pecked her on the lips like it was something that they did every day like this would keep happening.
"Be safe," she whispered, watching as Draco disappeared into the hallway, struggling to put on his shoes as he walked.
Hermione's eyes were glued to the door. From the corner of her eye, she could see Nagini slither out from under the vanity, sticking her tongue out to taste the air.
"You can't tell him," Hermione said, "you can't."
Nagini gave a nod before sliding up Hermione's bed, laying her large head on Hermione's leg. Hermione fell back, letting herself relax against the bed.
"You know Nagini," Hermione started, "this isn't how I thought things would turn out. I just want everyone safe."
Nagini didn't reply, not that Hermione was expecting her too. It was just nice to have someone— something— to talk to. Hermione closed her eyes and went on to take about an ancient tome that she had been looking for, one that would help her in her mission, but she had so far failed to locate it. On occasion, she would open her eyes, Nagini looked to be listening.
Eventually, there was a soft knock on the door, followed by squeaky whispers.
"Miss," one of the voices said, "we is here to get yous."
Hermione sat up, and when she finally opened the door, two elves were standing in the hallway, looking up at her with large eyes.
Hermione gave a kind smile, "Lead the way."
One of the elves beamed up at her while the other hurried their face into the pillowcase dress of the other with a blush crawling to it's cheeks.
The beaming elf bowed, pointing into the hall, stiffening slightly at the sight of the giant snake. The four of them moved through the manor, and Hermione was sure that they were taking her to Riddle's office.
"What are your names?" Hermione asked.
"I is Mossy," the beaming elf said, "and this is Rosey."
Hermione smiled, "Well, it's nice to meet you two. Thank you for escorting me."
The elves nodded, and the rest of the journey was made in silence. They stopped at the large wooden door Hermione was now familiar with. Hermione gave a grateful nod towards the elves before they popped off.
"Ready, Nagini?" Hermione asked.
Nagini hissed.
Hermione laughs, "I'm going to take that as a yes."
Hermione knocked on the door and stepped back.
"Come in," came Riddle's voice.
Hermione turned the knob and moved into the dark office. She quickly noticed that she and Riddle were not alone, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Snape, and several other high ranking Death Eaters spread around the room.
Riddle was t his desk, power radiating off of him, "we are willing to hear you out."
Hermione raised her eyebrow and looked down at Nagini.
This was going to be a pain.