Chapter 44
"I've changed my mind. Muggles are inferior to Wizards."
Hermione rolled over in the bed to face Draco in alarm.
"What are you–"
"Ewoks."
She sputtered as the righteous anger died on her lips, and burst out laughing.
"Muggles came up with Ewoks and Ewoks are ridiculous," Draco continued with a smile. "The first two Star Wars movies were brilliant. Why did they go and bollocks up the third with a bunch of sodding teddy bears? As if a primitive pre-historic tribe that hasn't even reached the iron age could defeat a battalion of Imperial Storm Troopers?"
He snorted in disgust.
"You know," she said with a raised eyebrow. "There's a group called the Society for the Extermination of the Ewoks. SEE. They have a president, a vice president, a treasurer and everything. It's fairly official."
He chuckled. "I'd like to get a membership. The world is better off without them. We should sic the Dark Lord on them and put his genocidal tendencies to good use."
"After you purchase a membership to SPEW."
Draco laughed.
Hermione was quiet.
He laughed even harder and then stopped.
"Oh. You're serious."
oooooooooooooooo
"Stop thinking." Draco mumbled into the back of her head. "I can't sleep."
Hermione turned around to face him. "How does me thinking disturb your sleep?"
He propped his head up in his hand and pulled her hair out of his mouth, blowing the remaining strands away from his lips. "The 'how' doesn't matter. The fact remains that it does." His voice was raspy from sleep – or the lack thereof – and he leaned down to kiss her nose. "What's bothering you?"
"I was thinking about that day at the National Gallery. And then I wondered how you figured out that I Obliviated my parents. Which started me thinking about my parents, and I wondered what they're doing. Where they are. If they're happy."
He jerked his head back. "You don't know where they are?"
Hermione shook her head.
"But then," Draco's voice was still husky and he coughed. "How will you find them when this is over?"
She brushed a curl away from her face. "I know their new names. It'll take some time but I'll find them. I'm more worried that I won't be able to reverse the charm." She bit her lip and felt her throat constrict. "I worry it was too drastic. Maybe I didn't need to go to such extremes." She started tearing up. "I just…" she sniffed, and Draco gently wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I just didn't know how to get them to leave quickly enough or how to even convince them. They don't know anything about this war. They never would have left me, and time was running out. I didn't know what else to do."
Draco left his hand atop her cheek and rubbed the area of her skin which had been wet from her tear.
"You did the right thing," His grey eyes focused intently on her, willing her to believe him. His hand was warm on her skin, comforting, but she felt his fingers flex. "It wasn't too much. This house was one of the first raid targets from that summer. You were right to get them out quickly, and you were right to help all the Muggle-borns go into hiding. Those that we caught, that didn't leave…" He shifted his gaze to the side, unable to meet her eyes. "were killed."
Draco had probably killed some of them.
"How did you know?" she asked, reaching up to clasp his fingers on the side of her face. Hermione loved how long they were, able to completely wrap around her hand. His fingers were thicker than hers, and more powerful, but elegant. "You figured out a while ago that I Obliviated them."
He leaned over her, lips brushing her forehead. "The pictures in the hallway."
"Oh." She started to tear up again. Remembering her image vanishing from the photographs one by one while her parents were at the office always made her cry.
Draco continued speaking against her forehead, moving his lips back and forth across her skin. "That was the first time I questioned what I was taught about blood status. I was completely stunned by what you had done to protect your family. And even more so that you hadn't run away with them." He squeezed her hand. "You should have. You still can."
"I can't," she whispered.
He lifted his head and stared down into her eyes. "You can, but you won't. And I wish more than anything that you would." His face was wrenched with such longing and pain. "But you staying to fight is one of the things I love about you."
Draco's eyes widened, slightly panicked and his body tensed.
"I–" he paused, seemingly unsure how to continue. He appeared somewhat alarmed that he let his feelings slip out.
Hermione heard his heart hammering nervously in his chest above hers. He eyed her as if he were afraid he'd scared her off with his unplanned confession.
"I love you too, Draco," she whispered, cupping his cheek. She wasn't surprised by his admission, but a warmth bloomed in her chest all the same. "For some time now."
She wanted to tell him more, but before she could say anything else he lowered his lips to hers and covered her with his body. Wanting nothing more than to be filled by him, she opened her mouth and spread her legs, needing to feel him everywhere. His tongue slid inside her mouth and he settled himself between her thighs, the skin of his hips sliding against the skin of hers. He rested his elbows on either side of her head, enveloping her with his body and she slid her hands along his shoulders, his back and down to his arse to guide him inside. His head lifted slightly and he watched her face while he entered her with a shuddering moan, and then lowered his head again for a long, sensual, kiss.
ooooooooooooooooo
Thinking about you coming around my cock.
Hermione shoved the Galleon back in her pocket and shut the book she was reading on Portkey related Arithmancy. Combat training was done for the day. Draco usually contacted her in the evenings after most in the Order had dinner. The atmosphere was quiet and subdued in Westchester safe house.
"Neville." She poked her head in the kitchen where he sat, playing Exploding Snap with Alicia Spinnet and Fred Weasley. She was happy to see Neville coming out of his depression and a bit of that playful shine returning to his eyes after losing Hannah. "I'm heading out. I'll check in with you at breakfast."
Neville was the Westchester safe house leader and had to know where every Order member in his safe house was at all times. The extra responsibility also helped draw him out of his sadness, and he took it seriously. He nodded without comment and made an adjustment on his roster.
No one questioned Hermione when she left. Between her responsibilities with the senior Order leadership and her Horcrux missions with Harry and Ron, she had plenty of reasons for disappearing for hours or even days at a time. She doubted anyone even noticed, as they were all so busy with their budding romances.
Harry and Ginny sat with their legs intertwined on the couch in the den, doing their best not to snog each other to death in front of everyone. She felt a bittersweet pull on her heart watching them. They shared a knowing look as she made to exit the safe house.
"It's that bloke she's seeing," Harry spoke to Ginny, loud enough that she could hear.
Hermione whirled around.
"I'm not seeing–" Hermione began to protest but Ginny cut her off.
"You've been running off nearly every night lately." She opened her mouth to explain but Ginny cut her off. "And it's not super-secret Order business so don't even try that excuse."
Hermione looked to Harry for help but all she received was a smirk worthy of Draco. He raised an eyebrow and said, "You should see your face when you take that Galleon out."
She felt the blush spread from her neck up to her cheeks. Ginny's grin turned predatory.
Had she really been that obvious? Apparently so.
"Now the question is…" Ginny tapped her chin, peering into the air above Hermione's head as if deep in thought. "Which bloke is Hermione embarrassed enough about that she can't even tell her best friends she's shagging him, yet good enough in the sack to go to all this trouble to begin with?"
Hermione stammered, unsure as to how to answer. She had no idea anyone had noticed what she had been up to. But now that she thought about it, why wouldn't they connect the dots? What else would she be doing if she were gone most nights?
"Don't be embarrassed," Harry chided her with a chuckle. "We all deserve some fun."
"Right," Hermione grumbled, sinking into the couch next to him. "With the way you two are carrying on about me, there's certainly nothing to be embarrassed about."
"She's being considerate, Harry. She doesn't want to rub Ron's face in it," Ginny explained to him while staring directly at her. "Hermione's waiting until he finds someone of his own. Then she'll tell us which bloke shags her so well she practically creams her knickers every time she looks at that Galleon of hers."
Hermione dropped her head to her hands with a groan. They were terrible.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "He's got to be good. You didn't even finish the chapter in that book you were reading. I've never seen you throw a book to the side like that before." Harry turned to Ginny. "I bet she even stopped reading," he paused dramatically, "mid-sentence."
Ginny gasped as if that was the most scandalous news she had ever heard.
Well, the cover could work both ways. Draco could be slipping out for an affair, she could as well. At this point, there wasn't any line between a spy/handler relationship and a secret lovers' tryst anyway.
"Does anyone else know?" she asked sheepishly.
"Neville," Ginny answered motioning to the kitchen. "Obviously. He's the one recording your absences every night and returns the following morning."
"He's just too polite to say anything," Harry explained.
"Not like us," Ginny smiled at her, completely unashamed.
"Definitely not like us." Harry continued with another smirk.
"So who is he?" Ginny waggled her eyebrows at her. "We want to know who Mr. Wonder Cock is. Ron's been putting the moves on Susan lately and – against her better judgement – she's been reciprocating them. You could probably see him out in the open without Ron throwing a tantrum now."
"He wants to keep it a secret at the moment," Hermione explained.
That was the truth at least, and it took the pressure off of her by putting the desire for secrecy on someone else.
"We'll find out eventually," Harry explained confidently. "Process of elimination."
Hermione shot him a withering glance. "What, are you two keeping a record of–"
Ginny bent over and whipped out a rolled parchment from underneath the couch. She unrolled it to show Hermione a list of all the Order members with some names already crossed off.
Hermione's jaw dropped.
"You two have way too much time on your hands."
Ginny continued unabashed, ignoring Hermione's comment. "We already figured out it's not anyone in Westchester safe house," she explained, eyeing the list. "We considered cross-checking the rosters of Dorchester, Haverhill and Cambridge with the other safe house leaders but that would reveal the answer too quickly." She flicked her eyes up to Hermione, amused. "There's no fun in that."
"What if I'm not meeting him at another safe house?"
"Still easy," Ginny replied, undeterred. "The rosters would show who's disappearing at the same time as you. There are missions and raids but it wouldn't take long to find the pattern and match you up with Sir Mighty Penis."
Hermione glanced down the list on the parchment. "What if he's not an Order member in a safe house?"
Harry's brows furrowed. "Is he an Auror?"
Ginny turned to him in thought. "Maybe he's working undercover for us at the Ministry or elsewhere. Someone with more experience." She turned back to Hermione with a lascivious smile. "An older man. You don't fuck around, do you?"
"That's precisely what she's doing," Harry quipped.
Ginny grinned.
Hermione raised her eyebrows at them. "The plot thickens. Renders that little list of yours useless, doesn't it?"
Ginny pouted but Harry looked more determined. "You can't hide him forever, Hermione. We'll figure out who makes you treat books worse than Ron."
She gasped, offended. "I do not!"
Harry gave a pointed look to where her Portkey Arithmancy book lay on the floor. She thought she placed it on the side table.
Oops.
"You think you can outsmart me?" She stood up from the sofa, playing along with their game. "You just let me know you're trying to figure it out. That was your first mistake."
Harry and Ginny turned back to each other, whispering furiously as she strode out the door with a shit-eating grin.
ooooooooooooooooooo
Hermione opened her eyes. The room was black except for the starlight coming through the slats of the blinds. She was completely trapped in Draco's embrace and her legs were sticky with the remnants of their love making. Careful not to wake him, she slowly pulled her leg out from between his but his grip tightened and he pulled her closer against him.
"Stay," he murmured.
"I'll be right back. Just going to the loo."
He mumbled something she couldn't understand and loosened his death grip on her. She went to the bathroom and washed up.
Hermione walked back into the guest room and Draco's eyes glittered in the dim light, following her as she made her way back to the bed. She crawled inside under the covers and he drew her close to face him, intertwining their legs together.
"You don't sleep well?" she asked, peering into his eyes.
"Not at home, no. I do with you next to me."
She ran her hands through his hair, fingers pressing gently into his scalp. He closed his eyes while she traced patterns through the locks of his hair, humming in contentment.
"What's it like at home?"
Draco opened his eyes and gazed at her. "Terrifying."
Hermione ran her fingers up and down his arm and stilled when the texture of the skin changed so dramatically. It was the scarred, black skin of the Dark Mark. He watched her while she inspected it, but didn't say anything, and allowed her to continue to trace the lines and ridges of the cursed tattoo.
"It doesn't disgust you?" Draco asked. His eyes followed her fingers as they made trails on his inner forearm.
She stared up at him, perturbed. "Of course not. Why would it?"
He continued to observe while her fingers drew patterns on him. "Because of what it represents, and that I chose to take it."
Did he still think so lowly of himself? She wrapped her fingers around his arm, over the Dark Mark and squeezed. He shifted his gaze to her eyes. Hermione wanted him to understand.
"But that's not who you are. Even then. You didn't know what you were doing."
His brow furrowed slightly, conflicted by her answer. "But I do unforgivable things in his name. I know exactly what I'm doing now."
She set her mouth in a firm line. This war was so hard on him. Despite the upward battle and reduced resources of the Order, it was much easier from a psychological standpoint to fight Voldemort when you didn't have to hide your actions and motivations all the time. When you acted in accordance with your beliefs.
"If you had a choice, you wouldn't. You're doing all you can."
"Am I?" Draco sounded doubtful.
"You are," Hermione assured him, trying to put the conviction that she felt into her voice.
She continued to caress him. Receiving the Dark Mark must have hurt with the way the skin was mutilated like that. It wasn't just a scar or a tattoo; the texture was almost reptilian.
"What was it like? When it was done to you?"
He huffed a laugh. "It fucking hurt like hell. Like I was being burned from the inside out. We were at Aunt Bella's for the ceremony." Draco turned on his back and his arm slid out of her grasp. "It's somewhat of a blur, but I remember being on my knees, surrounded by all of them. Dolohov was leaning on my shoulders, keeping me in place while my father held my arm out. I remember screaming and at some point I passed out. That was," he stopped speaking, and swallowed. "That was the first time she…"
Hermione listened to him with mounting horror. She didn't understand how anyone could follow a madman that purposely hurt those who worked and fought for him. She couldn't comprehend how a father would allow his son to be branded in such a fashion. To be hurt like that.
"I woke up sometime later and Alecto was there. She was touching me." His Adam's apple bobbed as he struggled with the words to tell her. "I was scared and didn't know what to do."
Hermione pushed herself up on her elbow and leaned down to kiss his shoulder, and then his cheek, and then his forehead. Just to let him know that she was here. That she loved him. That she would give him whatever comfort and support that he needed. She wished she could have been there with that sixteen-year-old boy that didn't know any better, that didn't understand the consequences of his decisions, that only wanted to repair the damage done to his family name and more than anything, to impress his father.
But Draco wouldn't have wanted her comfort back then.
He looked up at her as she leaned over him. Her curls fell down around him, framing his face.
"You know who put a stop to it?"
Hermione shook her head wordlessly.
"Aunt Bella."
He saw her expression and nodded as if he couldn't believe it either.
"My parents were pleading with the Dark Lord. Aunt Bella walked in and just told her to get out, that I was underage. Maybe that's why she started to teach me Occlumency." He frowned. "She hasn't interfered since then. Maybe she thinks I want the attention."
Hermione rested her head in the crook of his neck and lay atop him, holding him in silence. No wonder Draco hadn't wanted to give them the plans to the Lestrange estate.
It was quiet. All she could hear in the dead of night was their breathing, and some crickets outside.
"You know it's not your fault, don't you?"
She heard his jaw click. His voice was low, resigned. "I got myself into this whole situation."
Hermione clutched his shoulders and pushed herself up to gaze down at him. Draco couldn't possibly think that about himself. She desperately wanted him to understand that it wasn't his fault. None of it was.
"You didn't know," she protested. "You couldn't have. And you were so young! And even now there are things you can't control! You didn't–"
"Hermione." He sounded agonized, and his voice was raw. "You don't have to do that." He wrapped his arm around her again and shifted her body so he could cradle her into his side. Draco pressed his lips into her hairline and spoke, "It's enough that you're here."
Her hand lay on his chest. She felt his heartbeat pounding slowly, methodically, against her palm.
"It's not your fault," she whispered.
Chapter end notes:
Next up: More mentoring for Draco and Hermione.
