Disclaimer: All canon characters, plots and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. We make no profit from this story.

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Trigger Warning: Domestic violence/abuse


She Keeps Me Warm

Chapter Eight

"... How am I supposed to be happy when all

I ever wanted, it comes with a price …"

( Cat and Mouse - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus )


Hermione Granger woke feeling more refreshed than she had in months. Her heart to heart with Ginny the previous evening was exactly what she needed to loosen some of the knots that were forming in her all too chaotic social life.

The relief wasn't yet complete, though; she needed to tell Harry and Ron, and worse yet… her parents. She'd thought briefly of writing a letter, but she was very close with her family and thought it too impersonal; they deserved more than that. She hoped she could convince Professor Dumbledore to let her visit her parents the upcoming weekend.

Fifth, Sixth and Seventh year students were able to visit Hogsmeade on weekends starting the following week. It would be the perfect opportunity for her to pop over and speak with her mum and dad face to face.

After a quick shower to freshen her senses, she padded across the floor, scooting into her room as quickly as possible in case Draco decided to wake at the same time. Hermione had been trying to avoid him, even after their chat regarding her nature towards Pansy.

He'd been oddly kind, and though she knew for Pansy's sake he was making a great attempt at reining in his almighty temper, she couldn't help but be wary of his intentions. Draco Malfoy didn't do kind.

She dressed in worn jeans and a soft jumper and made her way down to the Great Hall for a spot of breakfast. She smiled brightly at the mess of ginger hair at the center of the table.

Ginny and Ron appeared to be bickering about something or another, per usual. Harry sat across the two, laughing along at whatever insult Gin had probably thrown her brother's way.

"Wotcher, 'Mione!" Ron garbled through a mouthful of eggs. She grimaced slightly, silently thanking Circe she wasn't attracted to that sort of male… prowess. She supposed it was a bit impressive, the way he could pack down food - if you were into garbage disposals, that is.

"Good morning, Ronald. Harry," she nodded her greetings, slipping into the spot beside Ginny on the worn wooden bench. She reached over and tugged a lock of the younger girl's hair, grinning widely as Ginny winked at her in return.

"You look positively radiant this morning, darling," Ginny announced in an overly-dramatic tone. "What ever has you so pleased?" she giggled, batting her lashes at the witch.

Hermione rolled her eyes, nudging the girl as if to say Shut your fat gob! but spoke instead, "It's a beautiful Saturday, and I'm alive. What better reason to be cheerful?" Her eyes had fallen on the table of snakes, and she spoke her words while watching Pansy carefully.

The noise level in the Great Hall increased greatly as the sound of flapping wings and hooting rang across the room. A large Eagle Owl landed gracefully in front of the girls, nipping at Ginny's finger in hello.

Hermione cocked a brow, staring at the girl expectantly. She watched as Ginny untied the parchment, rolling it out flat and scanning the small paper swiftly. A blush formed on her cheeks, and she carefully tucked the slip of paper into the pocket of her trousers before offering the owl a bit of bacon. Hooting it's thanks, it spread its giant wings before taking flight.

"Hey!" Ron bellowed, "Wasn't that Malfoy's bloody bird?" Harry nodded his agreement, both watching Ginny intently.

"No…" the girl mumbled, picking up her tea cup and taking a large swig. Hermione wasn't sure what this was about, but she knew Ronald, and he wouldn't so easily let it go.

"I'm almost certain it was, Gin… What was in the let—"

His words were cut short as Hermione huffed, "She said no, Ron. Let it go." He wasn't one to pick a fight with Hermione, especially so early in the morning. He grumbled a bit and reluctantly gave in.

Hermione shared a look with her best friend-one that spoke, We will talk about this later! Ginny shook her head, grinning stupidly at Hermione.

oOoOoOo

As breakfast hour came to a close, Pansy trailed along with the other Slytherins, falling behind in hopes of catching Hermione before she disappeared for the day. Daphne said something she didn't quite catch, so she waved her on, trying to catch sight of the curly haired Gryffindor.

The girl appeared at her side, offering a gentle smile. "How'd you sleep?" Hermione inquired.

"Well enough…" Pansy trailed off, wondering if she should bring up the previous night's events. She did want to know how it went with Ginny Weasley.

"Well… How did last night go?" she questioned quietly. "Did that friend of yours absolutely freak?" Hermione shook her head, laughing merrily at the image.

"Ginny wouldn't ever. I'm not sure what I was so afraid of. She's one of the most understanding people I know. Ron and Harry on the other hand, well… just wish me luck."

Pansy reached out to give the girl's fingers a squeeze when she tripped over something at her feet - or someone, rather.

Her eyes widened at the tiny elf, dressed in a thin, green cloth dress. "Pippa?" she sputtered. "What on Earth are you—"

"Sorry Miss, but…" the house elf squeaked, eyes darting back and forth nervously. "You must follow. Master Pyrs be at Hogwarts! He's needing you immediately!"

Pansy felt her stomach wrench as she tried to make sense of the words the house elf was saying to her. Her father was here; Pyrs Parkinson was at her school. Her head began to spin as she felt Hermione press a hand to the small of her back, causing her to instantly regain her stability.

Pansy shook her head. "What for then, elf? I haven't the time to waste!"

She felt the slightest pressure at the back of her thighs as Pippa did her best to push her closer to the Great Hall's exit. Giving the little elf a break from it's workout, she slowly walked forward - the fear and uneasiness of seeing her father quickly returning to her.

Pansy looked back at Hermione, mirroring the look of concern on her own face. She smiled at the beautiful Gryffindor, doing her best to put on a brave face before turning the corner out of the Great Hall.

Breathe, Pansy. Breathe.

She made her way with heavy steps to the third floor, standing in front of the large gargoyle statue with dread written all over her face. She was just about to start guessing passwords when suddenly the stone creature began to rotate out of the way, revealing a winding staircase leading to Professor Dumbledore's office.

Pansy ascended the steps slowly, Pippa hot on her heels, ensuring she didn't turn around and bolt. She released her grip from the wrought iron railing before stepping off the stairway and pushing open the large oak doors.

"Ah-hem…" Pansy cleared her throat as she approached a table where Dumbledore and her father sat. Unnoticed, she spoke up, "Good morning, Headmaster. Hello, Father." A lump grew in her stomach as Pyrs Parkinson stood to his feet.

He was tall and broad-shouldered. His hair, much like Pansy's, was long and jet black. It was braided and tied at the end with a leather cord. Pyrs glided toward her in one swift movement, draping his arm around her cooly.

"Albus, would it be alright if my daughter and I slipped away for a conversation? It's family matters. You understand?" he asked the Headmaster the question without really caring for an answer.

"Yes, of course!" Dumbledore responded, the usual twinkle missing from his eyes; the pair were already halfway down the stairwell.

Exiting the passageway and making their way down the hall, Pyrs extended his arm toward an empty classroom. Although it was Pansy's final year at Hogwarts, she had never been in this particular room before. It smelled oddly of Wolfsbane and Chamomile.

She moved deeper into the dimly lit room, keeping her back towards the entrance, not quite ready to meet his eyes. She knew he was placing a lock and silencing charm up, despite not hearing him utter the incantations.

"Pansy," his harsh tone ripped through the desolate classroom, echoing off the walls. She knew better than to ignore the man, and turned with great reluctance. He stepped forth, his handsome features contorted in disgust - a look you might reserve for something absolutely foul.

She held his gaze, chin raised - a stance that hid her terror. "Father," she spoke quietly. "I know why you're h—" her jaw clicked shut as he took five long strides across the floor, fire burning in his eyes.

Pansy shuffled backwards, feeling the cold stone press into her back through her thin silk dress. Her father brought his large hand up, swinging it sharply across her cheek.

She whimpered, hands flying up to cup the stinging skin. "Do not speak!" he hissed.

Tears burned in her eyes at his words. "You dare make a mockery of our family?"

Her tears sprang loose, flowing hot down her cheeks. "Father!" she pleaded, regretting the word as it left her lips. She felt frantic, desperate to make him understand.

Pansy tried to duck as his hand grasped her throat, yanking her up so her toes were merely skimming the stone floor. He slammed her back, and tiny stars burst in her eyes as her head cracked audibly against the wall.

"Father!" he mocked, his laughter cruel. "You are no daughter of mine." He released her neck, and she collapsed to the cold ground, curling in on herself and coughing as her breath rushed back to her now raw throat. Her sobs rang through the empty room, loud and full of despair.

She felt him lean down towards her shaking form. "Don't bother owling, or coming home at all, for that matter. Your filth is not welcome in my home." With those words, he stood, dusting off his robes and turning on the heel of his dragonhide shoes, leaving her a crumpled heap on the floor.

oOoOoOo

Hermione had been reluctant to let Pansy go. She had an awful feeling about that elf's call. Pansy had never mentioned much about her family, but they didn't seem the type to make house calls like this.

She shrugged, hoping for the best. She'd just have to approach Pansy about it later, if she was willing to indulge.

Hermione headed for the stairs, making her way towards the Gryffindor Tower. She needed to suck it up and get this confessional over with. She knew Ginny was the easy part, but Harry and Ron would need to be handled with more care. It was a gorgeous day out, and she hoped to convince the boys they just had to come out by the lake with her.

"Maleficus," she spoke to the Fat Lady, who smiled and let her portrait swing forth. Hermione scrambled through, quickly scanning the room and spotting Harry's mess of black hair on a nearby couch.

"Harry!" she called out in what she hoped was a cheerful tone. Smile in place, she approached the wizard, taking a seat on the arm of the sofa he was occupying. "What're you up to? Fancy a walk to the lake?" Her inner dialogue battled between please say yes and no no no.

"Sure, Hermione! I could go for a stretch before Quidditch practice later." Hermione did her best to look excited, although she was really hoping he'd be too busy for her.

"Great! Let's get Ron as well, he could probably use a stretch too!" She giggled awkwardly. "Now where is the sod?"

Hermione pulled out her wand and waved it at nothing in particular - "Accio Ronald Weasley!"

A shirtless Weasley toppled out of his room, an annoyed look plastered on his pale skin. "Alright which one of you arseholes summoned me?" He glanced over the common room, and stopped at the laughter coming from the sofas.

"Hermione!" Ron used the palms of his hands to cover his undeveloped chest. "Put some clothes on, Ronald! We're going for a walk." She watched as he made his way back to his room, grumbling profanities under his tongue.

He re-emerged, fully clothed and still glaring at her hotly. "Oi, 'Mione! What's so urgent that you couldn't just come find me?" he scowled in her direction. "You can't go around Accio-ing people, you know. It doesn't work! You just make me crash to the floor every bloody time," he growled.

She bit her lip, fighting off the laugher that was trying to burst from her mouth. Waving off his upset, she explained, "It's a lovely day. Harry and I are going down to the lake and we're requesting your company." Harry nodded in agreement before following her towards the portrait hole. Ron's shoulders slouched, defeated, and he made his way out the door behind his friends.

It became much harder to control her breathing once they'd found themselves outdoors. Her feet seemed to drag like weights, unwilling to cooperate. Harry snagged a twig from the ground, transfiguring it into a ball and began tossing it back and forth with Ron.

She sighed loudly, contemplating how to bring up the discussion. "Boys, I need to speak with you," she spoke as they continued to play, neither acknowledging her words. "Hello!" she bellowed, frustration growing by the minute.

As if invisible, the boys carried on without sparing her a glance. Hermione pulled her wand, waving it quickly and shouting incendio, exhaling shakily as the transfigured ball burst into a cloud of ash.

"Bloody hell, woman!" Ron shouted, while Harry looked on curiously. She sank to the grass, the day wearing on her before it had barely even begun. Harry shuffled over, plopping down beside her and throwing an arm around her shoulders.

"What's got you so tense, Hermione?" his words were gentle, encouraging even.

She picked at the grass, counting the blades as she pulled them from the dirt.

One, two, three, four...

A hand waved before her face before knocking on her forehead. "Hello! Anyone in there?" Harry cocked a brow, confused by her odd display of behavior.

Man up, Hermione! she thought. She dropped the grass, eyes scanning both men before blurting out the words her mind seemed to be screaming the past week. "I'm gay!"

Her cheeks flushed at the sudden exclamation. Ron's face went white, shock written across his features while Harry's jaw fell slack. Their silence dragged on with nothing but the sound of crickets chirping and students milling about in the distance.

Suddenly Ron was chuckling wildly, clutching at his middle. "Good one, 'Mione! You actually had me going there for a minute," his laughter ceased as he realized she wasn't joining in.

"What, you're serious?" he spoke incredulously, his face slowly reddening. She and Harry stood, and she took a step closer to her ginger friend.

"I think I've always been, Ronald… It just took me some time to realize it," she spoke softly, trying to ease some of his budding tension.

"And what about me, eh?" his voice growing louder. "Thought you could just drag me along all the while?" His fists clenched at his sides.

She looked taken back, but tried to hide the pain behind a mask. "You know that's not true, Ronald! I'm not trying to hurt you, but I needed to be honest. You're my best friends… I could use your support in this!" she screeched.

He scoffed, "Support? How can I support you when I don't even know you!"

Harry stepped in, pushing against Ron's chest and backing him away from the tearful witch. "I'm still the same Hermione! Nothing has to change…" she pleaded, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

"It's okay," Harry offered kindly. Ron shoved him away, throwing one last scathing glare at the girl before storming towards the castle.

Harry sighed, looking defeated. "I'll talk with him… he'll come around. You know he loves you, Hermione." He shuffled his feet awkwardly for a moment before following after their fuming friend.

She watched them go, thinking that could have gone a lot better and hoping Pansy's luck was higher than hers.

oOoOoOo

The day proved uneventful, as he'd spent most of his time clowning around with his mates in the dungeons. Draco now leaned against the stairs leading up into the Quidditch stands. It was nearly ten o'clock, and he sat with eyes on high alert for any sign of the red headed witch.

He still wasn't quite positive of why he'd even asked her here. Ever since the night they'd bumped into one another - literally - he couldn't get her out of his mind. He'd never really paid much mind to other witches aside from Pansy, but she was completely off limits at this point. He still adored her, of course, but the infatuation he'd clung to for all those years was slowly melting away as he welcomed her true identity. It wasn't easy, but he was trying.

The Weasleys and Malfoys had never been on the best of terms, probably because of some old blood prejudice. The Weasleys were purebloods, naturally - even one of the Sacred Twenty Eight - but their views on the lesser bloods put off many of the old pureblood families. Blood traitors.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the bitter thought. He was not his father; he wasn't even sure he believed in that rubbish anymore. Tinkling laughter pulled him from his thoughts.

"Shaking your head to see if there's actually a brain in there, Malfoy?" Ginny Weasley's voice was a stark contrast to the quiet of the night.

Draco whipped around, trying to locate the source of the sound. He nearly tripped over his feet as he stumbled backwards, realizing Ginny was merely inches from his face. She freed the rest of her body from what appeared to be an invisibility cloak, whispering, "boo!"

"Shit!" Draco yelped. "Have you never heard of manners?" he grumbled on, but it was almost completely drowned out by Ginny's growing laughter. Despite himself, he chimed in, grinning at the infectious woman.

"You know, Malfoy… you almost look handsome when you let loose like that." Draco took on a haughty look, and she tacked on another, "almost" for added emphasis. He grinned at her cheekiness, finding her banter oddly amusing. Who knew the Weaslette could be funny?

"Did you bring your broom?" he looked around, noting that she was, in fact, empty handed. She balked, smacking her hand against her forehead. "No… you didn't tell me to!" she scoffed.

"I assumed it wasn't necessary, that you'd put two and two together," he sighed, mounting his Nimbus 2001 and patting the broom expectantly. "Well, climb on then. I won't bite," he winked as her freckled cheeks flushed a deep red.

He floated idly, feet skimming the grass as he watched the fleeting emotions cross the witch's face. Finally, she stepped closer, and he held out a hand to help her swing a leg over.

Draco's breath hitched slightly as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. He felt her breath tickle his ear as she leaned in close to whisper, "Why did you ask me here, Malfoy?" He stiffened, unsure of himself more than ever.

Why did you ask her here? his mind echoed her words. Unable to come up with a response that didn't make him sound like a complete imbecile, he kicked off, swiftly maneuvering them into the cool September sky.

Ginny laughed gleefully, her hair whipping wildly as she spread her arms out wide and let the wind pull through her fingers. "I just love it up here!" she shouted loudly. Her laughter was infectious, and soon Draco was chuckling right along with her. There weren't a lot of witches at Hogwarts who enjoyed flying, but Ginny Weasley grew up with a slew of brothers and took to the air like the best of them.

After looping the pitch a few times, he slowed the broom to a leisurely pace. He felt her rest her chin against his shoulder before she brought up her earlier inquiry.

"I'm serious, Malfoy. Why am I here?" she questioned quietly, a hint of insecurity bleeding through her words.

"I don't really know," he answered honestly. "I suppose I was just curious."

"About?..."

He shrugged, guiding them to a soft landing on the grass. They both hopped off, and Draco busied himself by making sure his broom was leaning perfectly straight against the side of the stands. His back was to Ginny, but he knew her eyes were following his every move.

"I just…" He fumbled over his words, not sure where exactly this was going. "I guess I just suppose, why not. We've got a lot in common… I mean… We both like Quidditch?" he finished lamely.

She snorted, eyeing him incredulously. "Really, Malfoy? Is that the best you've got?" she sputtered, laughter spilling from her lips. He kicked a pebble from a dry patch in the Earth, put off by her demeanor. He grunted, ready to sprint back to the castle as he was clearly making a huge mockery of himself.

"Hey," she quieted. "I'm just having a go! There's no law that says a Weasley and a Malfoy can't be mates," she smiled.

"Mates?" he spoke aloud, as if tasting the word. He'd never really had any female friends, unless you counted Pansy, which he absolutely did not. Pansy was… Well, Pansy was.

He turned, facing the witch who seemed hell bent on making his thoughts spin. "Mates, friends - whatever you want to call it," she spoke. "You're a bit of a smartass, Malfoy, and I like that. There's not many people that can keep up with my cheeky banter," Ginny winked, tossing her hair.

Draco smirked in response. "Noted."

Briefly looking up towards the castle, he pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. "It's late. We should head back before you get in trouble."

She rolled her eyes, rooting in a tiny satchel hanging across her body. He watched on, slightly confused how she could lose something in a bag so small. She yanked quickly, and the invisibility cloak she'd entered with appeared in hand. She held it out, dangling the cloak from her fingertips. "'Mione's doing," she offered in explanation to his curious stare . "It's a modified extension charm. Comes in extra handy!"

She started walking towards the hill leading back to Hogwarts, glancing over her shoulder to check that he was coming. "Well?" she laughed, continuing her trek up the incline.

Draco grabbed his broom, mounting it and creeping up behind her. As soon as he was in reaching distance, he grabbed her arm, yanking her right up on the broom in front of him.

Ginny squealed loudly, clearly not expecting the sneak attack. "Malfoy! Bloody prat," she growled, followed by a fit of giggles. He wrapped one arm around her waist, making sure she didn't take a tumble as she was currently riding side saddle. To his surprise, he felt her rest her hand right on top of his.

He zoomed quickly to the front entrance, landing them quietly. Ginny wrapped half the cloak around her frame before holding her arm out, nudging him to get under. He stared at her warily for all of three seconds before her glare scared him into doing as she said. Bossy little thing… he thought somewhat proudly.

"To the Gryffindor tower," he whispered. "I want to make sure you get back okay. If Filch catches me, I'll just tell the old bat I'm doing rounds." Ginny stifled her laughter, moving carefully up the stairs.

After what felt like an eternity, they emerged before the Fat Lady, who was snoring loudly with a gold goblet dripping wine dangling from her fingertips.

Ginny broke the silence. "It was fun. Tonight, I mean. We should go out more often," she slapped a hand over her mouth, flushing a bright red. "What I mean to say is, as friends… We should fly… Or something."

Draco chuckled at her embarrassment, knowing full well he was just as flustered as the witch. He took her hand, kissing it softly before pulling the cloak off them both.

Ginny, still blushing, cleared her throat loudly and tapped on the painting. The Fat Lady sat straight with a start, eyes darting around as she woke abruptly from her slumber.

"Maleficus", she whispered, the portrait hole swinging to with a loudly grumbling Fat Lady on the other side. "Goodbye," she smiled, throwing a soft wave in Draco's direction before stepping through and letting the door swing shut.

He stared at the door a moment longer before stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets and heading for the Head's dorm.

Ginny Weasley… a friend, he thought, smiling warmly at the idea.

oOoOoOo

Hermione sat in front of the fireplace, staring at the portrait hole and growing more worried by the minute. After an eternity, it swung forth, and a sappy looking Draco Malfoy stepped through. He froze at the sight of her, raising a questioning brow.

"Yes?..." he trailed off. She sprang to her feet, barreling towards him.

"Have you seen Pansy? She wasn't at lunch or dinner. You know last time this happened it didn't end well!" she cried, forehead wrinkled in frustration.

Draco put a hand on her shoulder, in what he thought must be a soothing manner. "I'm sure she's alright. I heard about the Library situation; I'm sure the Greengrass brat learned her lesson," he chuckled.

"No, Malfoy. Her father… he was here. And I haven't seen her since."

He paled, his features even more chalk white than usual. "Mr. P-Parkinson was... here?" he stuttered, nothing like his usual immaculate tone.

Hermione's concerns were deepened at his display. She nodded solemnly, "I've already checked the dungeons, the courtyard, the lake… " she paused, distraught. "She's not there!"

Draco moved towards the warmth of the fire, sinking into the cushions of a nearby sofa. "We need a bloody map! She could be anywhere in the damn castle."

Hermione's pacing stopped, and she gaped at Malfoy as if he said something of the utmost importance. "That's it!" she screamed, dashing out of the sitting area into her bedroom.

She returned a few moments later, holding a dingy roll of parchment and beaming with joy.

Draco eyed it suspiciously. "What's that?..."

Unfolding the paper, she pulled her wand and tapped it to the blank page, muttering, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good!"

Draco's eyes widened as a large map with what looked to be tiny feet and names appeared. "The Marauder's Map! Harry let me borrow it for the term. I nearly forgot it was buried in my trunk." She scanned the enchanted parchment, beginning at the top and working her way down, Draco quickly following her lead.

"I don't bloody see her!" he bellowed in frustration. "Do you think he took her off the grounds?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think so…" Her mind wandered as her eyes continued to move over the map. She jumped suddenly, nearly toppling the wizard over in the process.

"Merlin, Malfoy! How could I be so forgetful?" she grabbed his hand, yanking him off the couch and towards the door. For once, he didn't protest, which she was grateful for.

They sprinted out the hole and headed for the stairs, the seventh floor corridor in mind. Of course Pansy would know where to go if she didn't want to be found.

Room of Requirement, she thought, Brilliant!

oOoOoOo


A/N:

Maleficus is Latin for magic.

Pyrs pronounced "Pierce" and yes, I'm angry with him too!