TWENTY-THREE
Friday, 26 September 1944
Friday found them in the Room of Requirement again. Draco wasn't sure if he would ever get used to sitting in a replica of the Gryffindor Common room, but if Granger could stomach sleeping in the snake pit, he could tolerate a few hours in the lion's den. It was after dinner and they were just killing time before she had to go to the Astronomy Tower with Riddle.
He knew from experience that she was getting restless. He had seen first hand that she could sit in one spot with the same book for hours and only get up if the room was on fire. But now, her leg was bouncing and she couldn't find a comfortable position on her side of the couch to save her life.
He tried his best to ignore her, but it got to the point where she stood in front of the fireplace with her book and began to pace while she read. He snapped his book closed and set it on the coffee table, but she never noticed. "What's gotten into you?"
Her ability to tune people out when she was lost in thought was impressive.
And annoying.
"Granger?"
When she continued to pace, he muttered a few choice curses under his breath and got to his feet. He stood in her path and snatched the book from her hands. She tried to get it back and he cast a charm that kept it hovering far above them. She crossed her arms over her Gryffindor jumper and turned a sour look his way.
"Give it back," she demanded.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," she snapped.
He snorted. "And Potter's the King of France."
He glanced down to where her foot was tapping at the ground and then up at where her fingers were drumming against her forearms where they were folded. When his eyes landed on her face again, she rolled her eyes at him and took to resume pacing. Or tried to until he blocked her path again.
"Granger, you're driving me insane. Will you please talk to me? I thought that was part of our arrangement here? We can talk about anything; no judgement."
She shook her head slightly. "Trust me, Malfoy, you do not want to discuss this problem with me."
"If it helps you be less irritable, then yes. Yes I do." He shrugged and quirked his brow. "Try me."
A sly grin spread across her face and the flash in her eyes made him rethink his need to challenge her. "Alright, Malfoy. I'm irritable because I started my period the other day and normally, I have Muggle pain relievers to help me as the potions to help with the cramps makes me far too nauseous. Also, it's the first one I've had since we escaped Bill and Fleur's wedding last August due to the stress so it's like my body is making up for lost time." She took a deep breath and cocked her head as if to say I told you so.
She was right. He did not want to have this discussion with her. He reached up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. However, he had pushed her so he felt as though he should offer assistance as best as he could. Not that he was sure he would be able to offer much. The only witch he'd ever been with had been Pansy and she sure as hell hadn't discussed this topic with him. If anything, it was the one week a month he was able to have some free time to himself.
"Is… Is there something I can do to help?"
Her eyes went wide. Clearly she had not been expecting that sort of reaction from him. She shook her head after a moment. "Not unless you have chocolate stashed away for immediate consumption."
He smirked. "We could head down to the kitchens."
She shook her head. "I don't want to leave just yet."
"Then why don't you call for the House Elves? I'm sure they would bring you anything you ask. That is what they're here for."
He realized very quickly that was the wrong thing to say to her. He had never seen her angrier than she was the moment the last word left his mouth. He barely had enough time to brace himself before she shoved him with a surprising amount of strength.
"You privileged, arrogant little Pureblood prat!" she seethed, shoving him again and again with each word.
"What?" he snarled, trying his best to step out of her reach, but failing every time. "What the fuck, Granger?"
She stopped her assault when she realized he was cornered between her and the wall at his back. "Those poor creatures are forced into slavery! They should be doing this work for a fair wage. They shouldn't be forced to answer anyone's beck and call! They-"
"Granger!" he snapped, grabbing hold of her wrists as she geared to hit him again. He pulled her to him and straightened his spine, using his height to tower over her as he peered down into her eyes. "Stop hitting me."
"Let go, Malfoy," she demanded, trying to detach herself from him.
"You're absolutely daft if you think I'm letting you go until I can guarantee my nose won't be broken a third time."
"Malfoy-"
"I was just making a suggestion!" he snapped. "And, for your information, Wembley would have been happy to be summoned and assist you. Merlin, Granger. I know you have a penchant for lost causes, but-"
He stopped as the fight died out of her immediately. The murderous look in her eyes gave way to one of surprise and her fists had unfurled. "You…You know their names?"
He slowly let go of her wrists, but continued to watch her intently for any signs of returning anger. "He's one I recognize from our time. He was fond of Dobby."
He watched as a sadness crept into her eyes at the mention of his former House Elf and it confirmed his suspicion that his aunt's knife had hit its mark after all. She blinked rapidly to keep herself from crying and smiled softly at him. "I had almost forgotten he belonged to your family."
Draco gave her a stiff nod. "Just so you know, assuming things about me because of my Pureblood status is just as bad as me assuming things about yours. I happen to treat my Elves with respect. I know my father was horrible to them, but I-"
She cut him off by throwing her arms around his neck and wrenching his head down to hers. Her lips were hungry as they moved against his. After the initial shock wore off, he lifted his hands to her waist and held tight. Her fingers thread through his hair, tugging slightly. He groaned into her mouth as he pushed them forward.
When they reached the couch, he spun them and dropped onto the cushion, pulling her down into his lap in one fluid motion. Her jean clad legs landed on either side of his hips and he felt a fresh wave of arousal when she moaned into his mouth. He could feel her skin where her jumper had ridden up ever so slightly. In a bold decision, he pushed his hands up her side beneath the jumper.
She whimpered and scrambled off his lap, stumbling and landing on the coffee table behind her. She tugged her jumper down and held it tight enough to turn her knuckles white. He simply let his hands drop to the tops of his thighs, staring at her with caution.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked.
She shook her head. "N-no." She shot to her feet and had scurried around the couch to retrieve her Slytherin jumper before ducking into the bathroom with a slam to the door.
He waited for what felt like eternity for her to emerge and when she did, she only came around to grab for her bag before turning towards the door. He grabbed her wrist and stood up to face her. "Granger-"
"I'm going to see if Madam Perth has anything else that I can try and then I'll head straight to the Astronomy Tower. I'll see you tomorrow, Malfoy," she said, tugging her wrist from him.
He sighed and relinquished his hold. Realistically he hadn't hurt her; he knew that. He had only gone with the flow and realized that she, clearly, still had reservations about him. He tried not to think about it too much and decided it best to just give her space for now. If there was one thing he had learned about her in their near month of being stuck together, it was that she would talk to him eventually. He just had to wait for her to come around.
Hermione felt bad about lying to Malfoy about why she was leaving. She had no intention of going to the infirmary. Instead, she sought out the place she had escaped to the night she saw Ron kiss Lavender for the first time. Only this time, she didn't conjure any birds to keep her company.
She had sat on the bottom step and sagged against the wall for support and tilted her head back against the stone. She closed her eyes and sighed. One hand stole up jumper to caress the intricate web of scars that stemmed from her diaphragm and fanned out to her ribs beneath her breasts and up between them until it neared her heart.
No one aside from the healers at St. Mungo's and Harry had seen them. The former only because they had tended to her until she woke from her field trip to the Department of Mysteries and the latter when he accidentally walked in on her in the single bathroom of the tent. It had been almost two years since she'd been hit by that unknown curse and not only did it still hurt on occasion, but she hated the way they looked.
She wasn't sure what had been the driving force in stopping Malfoy; the fear that she was actually ready to be intimate with someone or the fear of letting anyone see the scars. Either way, she felt bad for running out on him like she had.
When it was time to meet Riddle, she shoved those thoughts away and prepared herself as much as humanly possible. She took her time getting to the corridor where the entrance to the Astronomy Tower was and was surprised to see that she was there first.
She didn't have to wait long. Riddle arrived shortly after she began unpacking her bag. He had looked mildly irritated when he walked into the tower, but a smile curved his lips when he saw her there. "When you were not ready in the common room, I thought you had stood me up again," he said, taking a seat beside her to unpack as well.
Hermione nodded. "You were wrong," she stated. "Obviously."
He inclined his head. "It would seem that is the case when it comes to many things involving you."
Hermione said nothing as she pretzeled her legs, balanced her notes on her right knee, and tucked some of her curls behind her ear. "According to our charts, the next New Moon should be this coming Tuesday. The…thirtieth," she said after a quick scan of her handmade calendar.
"Might I suggest we move our observation night to Tuesday?"
"Instead of that Friday?" she asked, keeping her eyes on her notes instead of looking at him.
"Yes. We can talk to Professor Daedalus on Tuesday after class. I am almost certain he would have no problem with it."
She nodded. "Would you be opposed to meeting earlier as well? Midnight's fine for Friday's, but I'd prefer to be in bed well before then when I have classes the next morning."
"Nine?" he suggested.
"Perfect," she said and jotted the switch in her notes. After a moment, she tapped the edge of her parchment with her quill. "When was the last New Moon again?"
"The First of September. You would have seen it had you and Mister Malory had not tried to Apparate into the castle," he said, tilting his head at her.
She went still as a statue at his words and felt her breath hitch. "Oh," she mumbled, making a few extra notes. She made a mental note to talk to Malfoy about that. It was a long shot, but maybe the incident was connected to their way home. Either way, she would make sure they were in the Room of Requirement either before or after meeting Riddle on Tuesday night.
She charmed her parchment to follow her as well as her quill and ink pot as she got to her feet and made her way to the telescope. After a quick cleaning charm, she began her normal routine of charting for the evening. As it had been nearly a month of doing this, it wasn't hard to find all the points she was responsible for noting and when she had finished her notes, she stepped away for Riddle to take his turn.
She gasped from his nearness when she turned around, the hold on her magic slipping, sending her items to the ground. Riddle's magic caught them before they landed and sent them back to where she had sat before.
"When were you gifted that locket, Miss Granger?"
She swallowed hard and tried her best to remain calm. She knew showing him fear was bound to bring forth the violence in him. From their last encounter, he had responded better when she was truthful up front. "A few months ago," she said, her voice less shaky than she had thought it would come out.
The corners of his mouth fell as he gave her a stern look of disappointment. "I had hoped that you would be more honest with me," he said. "You forget that I have been in your mind. That I have seen things about you. I have also seen the nature of some of your reading material. Time travel is not something Hogwarts offers in its curriculum."
He took a step forward and she took one back, stopping only when the railing of the balcony pressed against her lower back. She gulped back fear as he continued to approach.
"You might as well tell me the full truth, Miss Granger. You and I both know you are not a transfer from Durmstrang. Neither is Mister Malory. I am also aware that those are not your real names." He stopped when she could feel the heat of his body through their clothes. His breath fanned her face when he spoke next. "I will ask you one more time, Miss Granger. When were you gifted that locket?"
"June," she whispered, her body trembling.
"Of what year?"
"Nineteen-ninety-seven."
He had admitted to knowing her secret, but when she confirmed it, he paled. He took a few steps back from her, his fingers carding through his dark hair. His chest was heaving with shallow breaths as the reality of her admission sank in. She braced herself, ready for some sort of outburst; an invasion of her mind for more details or to be struck with his magic.
But it never came.
Instead, he turned and left her alone in the tower.