THIRTY-EIGHT
Saturday, 8 November 1944
Draco had not asked her to Madam Puddifoot's for the November Hogsmeade trip, but he knew they would be going there anyway. They had even planned to spend a good majority of the day there together. When she had expressed wanting some time with her friends, he reluctantly agreed to part ways towards the end of the day to grant her wish.
He knew it was selfish, to want all of her free time to be at his side, but he couldn't help it. All his life, Draco had been possessive by nature. He was never one to share and he never intended to start. Since the night in the Room of Requirement he felt that she belonged to him in a sense that they had become a part of each other.
He hadn't really known the full scale of his possessiveness until he saw Riddle with her on the dance floor on Halloween.
He trusted Hermione completely. If anyone in this world would ever betray him, it would never be her. He knew that with every fiber of his being. He knew that even if he had never gotten to know her this way, she would still never intentionally hurt him. It wasn't in her nature.
But it was in Riddle's.
Since the moment he had laid eyes on Hermione in the common room in September, Riddle hadn't been able to stop looking at her. The way he did made Draco's blood boil with rage. And as time had worn on, Riddle's gaze had only intensified. Every time he felt Riddle in the room, his eyes were on Hermione. However, lately, the looks had gone from fascination to downright predator. It was like watching a cat stalk a mouse, toying with it before it struck.
And no matter how many times or all the different ways he would ask her, she still claimed that there was nothing going on between them. That every time they met in the library without him, during class, or at the Astronomy Tower, they did nothing but keep discussion about their class assignments or the information he wanted from her about his future endeavors.
He believed her when she said it, but he didn't trust it. He didn't trust Riddle to do something and then make her forget that it happened. He kept looking for signs that something was wrong; that he had hurt her mentally or physically, but there was nothing. Which made him glad to a certain degree. No matter what, the last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt.
So when she had come in from her observation with Riddle the night before, looking a little out of sorts, he knew he was close to snapping. She continued to tell him nothing was wrong, putting on a show of just being tired and cold before slipping down the girls' corridor to her dorm, but he had felt her tremble in his arms.
He had every intention to slice Riddle to pieces with a combination of his wand and his bare hands that night, but his roommate never came back. Even when Draco woke the next morning, he was still alone in the dorm.
Draco showered and dressed faster than he had ever done before and moved to the common room to make sure he was there when Hermione emerged for the day. She had long since stopped using the book to inform him she was coming out of her dorm. The moment she emerged, he ran to her side, drawing her into his arms. She looked as fresh as the new day, but there was still a bit of an edge to her.
They ate breakfast together, walked to Hogsmeade together, and made way to the tea shop first. He ordered the same thing she had had the last time and even prepared it for her the way he remembered her doing so. She smiled when she brought the tea to her lips and hummed in approval after the first sip.
"You remembered," she said, licking her lips.
"You're not the only one with a good memory, you know," he teased.
"Ah, and here I was planning to get you a Remembrall for Christmas." Her eyes flashed as he scowled at her from across the table.
"I definitely have a better memory than Longbottom."
Her smile dissipated and he regretted the mention of her housemate. She waved her hand dismissively and drank more of her tea. At least she didn't break down. It didn't matter how much he cared for her, weeping witches would always make him flounder.
He leaned across the table and extended his hand to her, palm up, pleading with his eyes for her to take it. Her smile brightened again and she placed her palm along his. "Have you ever gone to the theatre?" he asked her.
She nodded excitedly, her eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. "My father loves it, but my mother doesn't. I've been going with him since I can remember. Plays, musicals, operas; you name it, I've seen it." She blushed and shook her head. "Well, anything Muggle anyway. I haven't been to any strictly magical theatre."
"Do you have a favorite?" he asked.
"Phantom of the Opera."
He frowned. "That's not Shakespeare is it?"
The way her laugh spilled past her lips immediately turned his frown upside down. "I take it you're not a fan."
His nose wrinkled in disgust for a moment as he began to rub his thumb on the back of her hand in slow circles. "No. Classic or not, I can't stand it. I like some of the stories, but there is such a thing as overdoing it with the language."
She smiled. "We can debate Shakespeare another time, but no, the Phantom of the Opera is not by him. Andrew Lloyd Webber."
"What's it about?" he asked. It could be about Filch on his most boring day, but he wouldn't care, so long as he got to hear the excitement in her voice as she talked about something she enjoyed. As it was, he continued to massage her hand with his, even moving his other hand across the table to really work his magic. He listened to her every word, his eyes never leaving her face.
"My favorite part is the main song. There's just something so hauntingly beautiful about it."
He motioned for her to give him her other hand and she obliged; whether she realized it or not was beyond him. "We should see it," he said. "When we get back and things settle."
She stiffened and brought her other hand to lay over his. "Draco…"
"I'm serious, Hermione."
She looked around nervously at the other inhabitants of the tea shop. "So am I. We don't know what it will be like when we get back. What if…" She cleared her throat. "What if he wins? Do you really think he's just going to let someone like me be with someone like you?"
"We can run away together."
Her hands tightened over his and her eyes misted over with tears. "If it comes to that, I'm not leaving anyone behind. I would never be able to live with myself if I abandoned them."
He knew that. He really did. It was one of the reasons he had let himself get so attached to her recently. When she cared about someone, she did everything in her nature to protect them. And she would continue to do so until the end. It was what would get her killed.
"If it came down to it, would you choose them or me?"
She yanked her hands from his and stared at him with glassy eyes and parted lips. He had regretted the question the moment he finished it. He regretted it even more when she shot to her feet and stormed out of the shop, tears streaking down her face. He muttered curses under his breath, dropped two Galleons on the table, and ran after her.
She hadn't gone far. He found her pacing between the tea shop and the building next to it. When she saw him, she stopped moving and wiped tears from her eyes. "Why would you even ask me something like that, Draco?"
"I don't know. It was a stupid question," he said, stopping only when he was able to gather her into his arms.
She pulled out of his grasp and wrapped her arms about herself. "Promise me. Right here, right now. No matter what happens," she said, her voice wavering. "Don't ever make me choose."
He felt cold dread wash over him at her words. He felt like he had been kicked in the gut; as if his breath had been stolen right out of his lungs and he was suffocating. He realized she would never choose him. He felt it like a knife to the throat.
He nodded and reached for her again despite the despair threatening to drown him where he stood. This time, she stayed in his arms and buried her head in his chest. He hated knowing that even though he would do whatever it took to keep her safe, if it ever came down to it, she would choose Potter and everyone else over him.
She would never truly love him.
"You have my word, Hermione," he promised.
He lost track of how much time they stayed wrapped up in one another between the two buildings, but when they separated, it was only so that they could part ways and she could join her friends. Having no desire to find his own housemates, least of all Riddle, Draco wandered aimlessly around Hogsmeade until she sought him out or they returned to the castle for dinner with everyone else.
The first place he had gone was in search of a drink. He had wandered around until he found a little pub down a path he had never come across before and drank until he couldn't feel the sting of losing to Potter. Again. With Firewhiskey singing in his veins, he stepped back out into the frigid November air and wandered the other shops he had never seen before.
After making a few impulse purchases, one of which was securely tucked away and charmed so nothing would happen to it, he wandered towards the main road again. The day was nearly gone; almost time to head back to the castle if the grumbling of his stomach was any indication of how long they had been in the little village.
There was no sign of Hermione and he wondered if she hadn't just abandoned her roommates and gone back to the castle already. Either way, that's where he was headed. He planned on going straight to the kitchens, eating something warm, and then retreating to his dorm where he would make himself sleep until Monday morning.
But all plans were derailed as Riddle emerged from the bookstore near the mouth of the main road. When Draco saw him, his fists clenched at his sides and his vision nearly blackened with rage. A rage that made his magic spark at his finger tips as Riddle turned a cold smile his way.
"Draco," he greeted. "A strange sight without Miss Granger by your side."
His wand was in his hand and pointed at Riddle by the time he had finished his sentence. "I never want to hear her name come out of your mouth again."
Slowly, Riddle's smile faded away. The look that remained was menacing. His dark grey eyes were nearly black and Draco found himself being sucked into an inky whirlpool of chaos. For a moment, his left forearm stung, but he ignored it. "How else should I address her then, Draco? Would you rather I start calling her Hermione? I never was one for nicknames, but-"
Hearing him say her real name had Draco firing the first curse. The red streak of light narrowly missing Riddle's ear as he ducked in the nick of time. "Do not speak her name. You have no right to it."
"And you do?"
"She. Is. Mine." Another curse left his wand and Draco let out an irritated grunt as Riddle dodged it with ease. He still hadn't even so much as drawn his wand or lifted a hand to use magic to defend himself.
"Is she?"
Those two words wrapped around him, swirling inside his mind until he nearly broke. The pain in his forearm bloomed with enough pain to take him to his knees, forcing him to take ragged, uneven breaths. He hadn't felt agony like this since the day he had taken the damn mark. From the look on Riddle's face, Draco knew that he was aware of his hold on his dormmate. He wondered how long Riddle had known.
Just as the pain in his forearm began to subside, a searing pain in his head took over. He cradled his head in his hands as image after image of Hermione and Riddle in various acts of intimacy flashed before his mind's eye. Everything was quick and each image burned as if it would be a permanent fixture at the forefront of his mind.
There was Riddle and Hermione in a dark corridor; his hand lost beneath the waistband of her skirt, her lips parted in pleasure.
Hermione pressed against a bookshelf with Riddle's hand up her jumper.
Hermione on the Astronomy Tower wrapped up around Riddle with her hands on his chest and his up her skirt.
"Are you sure, Draco? She does not act like yours when her and I are alone together."
He tasted blood as he pitched forward, gasping for air on hands and knees at Riddle's feet when the images disappeared and he retreated from his mind. The Dark Lord loved to torture people with images of vicious attacks. Constantly conjuring scenarios just to fuck with people or scare them into submission.
This time, he refused to back down.
He lunged at Riddle like a Muggle, catching him off guard as he brought them both to the ground with limbs flying about in a flurry. They crashed into the main part of the ally and he could hear the gasps and cries of people beginning to notice them. It wasn't long before they scrambled away from each other and turned to magic. Their spells sizzled and snapped through the air, some of them landing on their target, others landing Merlin knew where.
People were yelling at them to stop, but Draco kept pushing. He didn't care if Riddle had already done something to himself that ensured he couldn't be truly killed in this time. He wouldn't get away with leading Draco to believe he had defiled Hermione in that manner. Whether it was true and he had removed those memories from her or if he was just getting a rise from him, it didn't matter. He needed to be stopped.
In the span of a heartbeat, there was a flash of navy and a scream that rent the air in a way that made him ache to his bones as he felt himself being knocked out of the way. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as he crashed into someone and they pushed him back again. He looked towards Riddle again, wand at the ready, spell at the tip of his tongue, but Riddle was no longer taking part in the duel. Instead, he was staring at the body on the ground; horror plain as day on his face.
Draco's felt his own panic wash over him as realization struck. His wand fell out of his hand, clashing on the ground as he rushed forward and sank to his knees. He gathered Hermione into his arms and stared down at her through vision blurred with tears as his trembling hands roamed her to check for injuries.
She wasn't breathing.
Her skin was ashen and cold as ice.
He distantly heard someone cry out for help and wondered if it was himself that was doing it.
There was a flurry of movement as adults from the shops and some of the professors entered the scene. Some of which were Dumbledore and Madam Perth. As they took Hermione from him to rush her back to the castle, Draco went with, unable to recall if Riddle was still present in the crowd.