Chapter Eight

Sorry for the slight delay. Work has been crazy this week and I had very little time to write. Forgive me! Here is an interesting new addition with some new faces… Enjoy! As always JKR is the true owner!

The faint rosy light of pre-dawn flickered in through the curtain, casting a glow on the room below. It was cold outside. The winter air was frosting on the glass in patterns like icy white spider webs.

But inside the room, snuggled under the downy bed covers, Draco was toasty warm. He emerged from a deep sleep, his foggy mind cataloguing everything around him as he tensed and untended his muscles experimentally. The room was musky and filled with the scent of lavender and honey, and his cheek was resting on a pillow of soft hair. He shifted his hips forward and came into contact with the curves of another body next to his. Draco's lips stretched into a lazy grin as he blearily opened his eyes. Once the world came into focus he licked his cracked lips and observed the person next to him, a tight clenching of pleasure unfurling in his stomach and stretching down to his toes.

This was the third time Hermione had come to him during the night; the third time they had fallen asleep cradled in each other's arms. The third time he had woken from a horrific nightmare only to soothed effortlessly by her fingers tenderly stroking his hair and the feel of her slender neck against his cheek as he burrowed into her warmth.

A distant part of him – the proud, arrogant boy from his youth – was mortified that she had seen him like this. That she had witnessed him in such weak moments. But his pride was nothing compared to the sensation of being so closely intertwined with Hermione Granger. Embracing her in his arms rid him of any further nightmares. And yet it was exquisite torture. Even though he revelled in these nights, it always left him feeling strangely unsatisfied.

Until this morning…

Draco wriggled closer to the soft form next to his. His eyes roved over Hermione's face, relaxed and looking so very peaceful in sleep. Her lips were swollen and her hair caught up in a tangled mess beneath them.

This had never happened. Not like this.

He had never woken up with her before. The previous two nights he had woken to a slightly warm bed and an empty space. Sometime before dawn Hermione would slip silently from his room and he would wake alone. He wished she wouldn't. But maybe she was too embarrassed to face him the next morning, or maybe she feared running into one of her friends creeping from his room at a more reasonable hour. Either way, he had wished so fiercely for her to stay with him. And now it seemed his wish had come true. Hermione had probably just slipped into a very deep sleep, unable to rouse herself as usual. But he certainly planned to take advantage of every second.

Draco leaned his head closer to take a deep breath in through his nose, basking in the soft scent of her shampoo as he lifted a trembling hand to brush an errant curl off her forehead. He held very still, not daring to move a muscle, but she didn't even stir. Draco bit into his bottom lip and stifled the urge to groan at the truly warm feeling seeping into every inch of his body. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this warm. All his recent memories involved painfully cold, cracked skin and shivering limbs. And Hermione looked simply delectable in her current state. Her hair was a wild cascade of curls. Her long lashes rested gently on the tips of her cheeks and her chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Bloody hell, Draco cursed softly to himself with a dry smirk to match.

To be perfectly honest, he had begun to fear over the last few months that his body was slowly withering away into an icy state of numbness. He'd been living in a corpse-like daze for so long he'd forgotten what this felt like. But he was harder than he'd been in years. Draco swallowed and let the hand that had tucked away her curl linger for a moment, his fingertip tracing the curve of her cheek. It wasn't exactly uncommon for him to wake up excited and throbbing first thing in the morning. He was still a young man, after all. But lately, trapped in the demented hell that was Malfoy Manor, any of his normal, habitual physical responses had become almost distasteful to him. He had felt dirty and corrupted by the dark magic that was thick in the very air around him, feeling its evil like a bitter taste on his tongue. He'd nearly forgotten the simple pleasure of waking up aroused.

But he'd have to be an actual corpse not to be hard right now. Or at least a Hufflepuff. Waking up next to Hermione was sending his mind reeling with all sorts of fantasies he'd barely allowed himself to imagine for fear of getting carried away.

Draco grit his teeth and shifted forwards so that he could slip his legs around hers, entwining them together. He knew that he didn't have long to treasure this moment. Soon she would wake up and dart from the room with a blush staining her cheeks. But her skin was so creamy and soft, and he loved the little sighs she released in her sleep as she unconsciously snuggled closer. Another breathy whimper escaped her and Draco felt himself twitch against her hip.

Granger's going to be the death of me… he thought ruefully, brushing his nose across the ridge of her collarbone. But he would happily welcome death if it came in her arms.

Lifting a lethargic hand, still weary from sleep, Draco toyed with the sapphire pendant hanging down, dangling from its fragile gold chain and resting just above Hermione's sternum. He felt a spike of warmth shoot through him as he recalled many lonely nights huddled on the cold tiles of his bathroom at the manor. He remembered the way that this seemingly insignificant locket had given him so much courage and strength. Tilting his head closer he placed a soft, tender kiss on Hermione's neck, just below her jaw. Draco let his eyes drift shut then, embracing the heady feeling of sleep taking over his senses once more. He was in no rush to have her leave and he could relish a few more stolen moments here together.

The only problem now was thinking of a way to control his urges. Or maybe he didn't have to anymore, he whispered to himself. His fevered dreams certainly agreed with this thought as his cock pulsed longingly. Draco knew with a grim certainty that if Hermione continued to occupy his bed at night then it was only a matter of time before he would take her. Somewhere between sleeping and waking, it had become clear to him that if things continued this way he would have her soon enough, and judging by the tender smile on her lips as she squirmed and nestled closer to his chest, it wouldn't take much to make her his. After months and months of mindless, confused yearning, Draco finally knew exactly what he needed to survive. And it wasn't sanctuary or a flimsy little locket. It was Hermione Granger.

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The woman sitting in front of Hermione had a stubborn frown curling her lips. She had folded her arms in front of her chest and refused to move until she was given a satisfying answer to her demands.

Draco's not going to like this…

She was pretty certain that the blond Slytherin boy was still determined to remain closed off completely from the rest of the Order. He hadn't spoken a word to anyone else all week again, not even Minerva. But there was a tiny, very slim chance that he would speak to this woman. Hermione certainly thought it would do him a world of good. But he was notoriously obstinate when he set his mind to something.

The lady before her was in late forties, her black hair streaked with fine wisps of grey. It was pulled up into a stylish, no-nonsense bun. Her skin was pale like porcelain, and she wore practical robes in midnight blue. But it was her eyes that really stood out. They were hooded and dark, making her look painfully similar to her sister Bellatrix.

Hermione sighed as she considered the woman, pondering over how she should proceed, knowing she needed to be cautious.

"Andromeda, I know you have the best of intentions, but I'm just not sure whether he's ready."

"But he's fighting for our side now, isn't he?"

Hermione sighed, leaning forward to prop her elbows on her knees, her expression grim.

"In a way, yes. But he's still so…fragile."

Andromeda nodded in understanding, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Hermione, he saved Ted. He saved my husband's life."

"I know."

"I need to say thank you. I need to talk to him."

Hermione grimaced, wondering whether she could convince Draco to agree to speak with his aunt. Or at the very least just listen to her. If there was one thing she knew that he needed right now, it was family. He just might not be willing to accept that yet.

"I'll ask him. But if he refuses there's nothing I can do, Andromeda. I won't force him to step outside his comfort zone. Not when he's so unstable and still recovering from everything he's seen and done."

Andromeda nodded curtly, a pained frown on her face.

"I still can't believe it. When I heard that Draco Malfoy of all people was responsible for alerting the Order about Ted… I felt such relief."

"Relief?" Hermione asked curiously and Andromeda gave her a mournful little smile.

"I was thankful that another person in my sad, sorry family had the courage to finally do the right thing. I'd always heard that he was just as arrogant and petty as his father. And I thought for sure that Bellatrix would have got her claws into him. I was glad to be proven wrong."

"Well I can promise you this; Draco is nothing like them."

"What is he like?"

Hermione considered the question carefully. She was both surprised and pleased that Draco's aunt was showing an interest in him. The woman sitting before her was a serious, solemn sort of person but very kind. Her heart was definitely in the right place. But Hermione was still wary of saying too much, especially when her own relationship with Draco had become so complicated lately. Just remembering the feeling of waking up in his arms this morning had a pleasant tingle running up her spine at the same time as her heart skipped with fear.

"Draco is… well, he's deeply troubled, bitter, resentful and he can still be terribly selfish and a bit of a prat." Andromeda raised one elegant eyebrow quizzically in surprise. But Hermione just smiled and continued, "But he's also one of the strongest people I know. And he's overcome so much. He's smart and funny and he can also be so tender and caring."

Andromeda gave her a knowing smile and Hermione blushed, biting down into her bottom lip. A small voice in the back of her mind reminded her that he was also impossibly handsome. And that the intensity of his stare could make her melt into a useless puddle. Her brain was still replaying on repeat again and again the feeling of Draco's fingers stroking the skin of her cheek, teasing a strand of her hair. His lips cracked and dry but so tender pressed against the racing pulse in her neck. She knew that he had thought she was asleep this morning when he lay there watching her, holding her tighter to him. In truth she had thought for a while that maybe she actually was asleep and it was all a surreal dream. But her senses were too sharply attuned to his actions, and she had lain there patiently, every nerve ending on fire, wondering for the hundredth time whether she was going totally mad. Hermione blinked a couple of times and her blush darkened at Andromeda's curious stare.

"I would really like the opportunity to thank him and to meet him," the older woman murmured at last, "Please tell me you'll try to convince him."

Hermione nodded, an understanding smile on her lips.

"Of course! I can't make any promises, but I will try."

"Thank you."

She cocked her head to the side then and observed the other woman curiously.

"How did you know that Draco was worth all this? You clearly want to reach out to him. What made you think that he was better than just a cowardly snake trying to save his own skin?"

Her words were, of course, a direct quote from some disgruntled Order member who was reluctant to work alongside the infamous Malfoy heir. But Andromeda didn't even hesitate before she replied.

"You did."

"Me?"

She leaned forward and patted Hermione's hand gently.

"Of course, dear. Minerva seems to think that the boy is quite fond of you. That tells me everything."

"Why?"

"Because I remember what it was like to be a part of that family. I remember the hatred and the evil that pervaded my life before I left. And for Draco to be friendly with someone like you… a muggleborn… it speaks volumes for his character. To come from such a world and to grow close to a muggleborn flies in the face of every negative lesson that's been drilled into him. And I can certainly empathise with that."

Hermione gnawed nervously on her bottom lip, knowing that Andromeda was referring to her happy but controversial marriage to Ted Tonks and how she had been disowned and cast out, proudly choosing her own path in life. It caused a niggling unease to take root in Hermione's heart. Having her bizarre friendship with Draco compared to Andromeda's marriage was more than a little unsettling. As she said farewell to Andromeda shortly after, she contemplated the stairs up to Draco's room with a creeping anxiety. She wondered uneasily how she could face him again, knowing for certain now just how deeply she was falling…

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Draco glared warily at the new occupant of the room who had taken a seat on the transfigured couch. It had been three days since Hermione had first mentioned Andromeda Tonks to him. She's told him his aunt was grateful and just wanted to talk to him. At first he had been adamantly against the idea. Hermione seemed understanding but she was even more stubborn than he was, if that was possible. She was a typical, obvious Gryffindor, of course, and totally lacking in subtlety. He could hardly fail to notice how she suddenly increased the amount of stories and answers she gave him those few days that highlighted the importance of family.

And damnit, it had worked.

She might have been missing some finesse, but her strategy was effective. Not to mention that Granger seemed to get genuinely emotional when she spoke about her parents, making him wildly envious. He would have been lying if he'd said he didn't want that connection that she clearly shared with her closest relatives. Even though thousands of miles separated them, there were still such strong, unbreakable ties binding them together.

So Draco had finally agreed. Honestly he would probably agree to anything she suggested at this point. She was a little hellcat when she set her mind to something. He'd submitted to her persistent suggestions eventually, both because he was genuinely curious to meet his aunt, but also because it gave him a little thrill to see the delighted grin on her lips. He loved the way those lips crinkled at the corners into cheeky dimples.

Andromeda observed him quietly for a long time, but there was no malice or judgment in her eyes. She seemed sincere enough, even though her face itself had a rather stern appearance. But looks could be deceiving; it was clear that although she could have passed for Bellatrix's twin, that the two women were nothing alike. That was why he was willing to speak with her even though he had refused to talk to anyone but Hermione since he'd arrived. Because in those sunken, Black family eyes there was a glimmer of something that felt like acceptance.

"You look like your mother," she stated quietly after a long pause, and Draco found himself frowning in surprised confusion. He worked up the courage to reply.

"Most people say I look like Lucius," he commented, testing the waters to see where they stood. Andromeda nodded calmly.

"Yes, I can see that. But if you look beneath the superficial things, you are most definitely Narcissa's boy."

Draco wasn't sure how to answer her. He felt a lump welling up in his throat and he tried to swallow, thinking about his poor mother and how she would have felt about this. Swallowing he cleared his throat and stared at Andromeda intently.

"I would have assumed you hated my mother after…everything that happened between you two."

Andromeda actually frowned sadly and shook her head.

"Of course not. She's my sister. And despite the circumstances that led to our parting, she has never said an unkind word to me in my life. Please Draco…" she paused and curled her hands into cautious fists, a gesture he recognised as someone trying to mask their pain. Then she continued in a strangled voice, "Tell me how she's doing. Was she alright when you left her?"

The air froze in Draco's lungs and he almost choked on it. His eyes immediately dropped to the space of couch between them, unable to meet her eye as he felt his own sting with memories of his mother's lifeless body. One of the many horrific things that plagued his nightmares. His heart was racing as he struggled to take a few deep breaths. By the time he raised his gaze up to Andromeda again, his aunt was already looking distraught as if she had guessed the truth from his silent battle with himself.

"Oh Draco…" she whispered, and he finally cleared his throat to speak.

"She had a heart attack in the end I think. She was…um…I tried to help her. But it was all too much for her. She wasn't eating-"

Draco wasn't able to continue. This was a woman he had only just met. And although it was his mother's sister he was speaking to, she was still very much a stranger. Andromeda closed her eyes for a few moments as her face crumpled with grief. He watched her, realising that there was someone else in the world who shared his pain. And then, in a gesture so similar to Narcissa it actually hurt him to see it, Andromeda seemed to smooth out the creases of her anguish and appeared serene once more.

"I am very sorry for your loss, Draco."

He nodded glumly once in acknowledgement.

"Thank you."

"Your mother was a very tender-hearted person trapped in a very dark world. I will mourn her greatly."

"So will I."

An awkward pause descended again before his aunt spoke once more.

"Hermione has filled me in on some of the details of your surrender and your work with the Order. She seems to be a very passionate advocate for you."

He nodded, feeling a pleasant flutter in his chest at the mention of the fiery little lioness. As usual it was the one thing guaranteed to cheer him up.

"Granger's certainly a force to be reckoned with," he agreed with a slight smirk.

"I'm pleased she convinced you to see me today."

He smiled tightly and nodded.

"To be honest I wasn't sure at first… but she wore me down. She seems to think that it might be good for me to meet someone who's…"

Draco trailed off and a muscle twitched in his jaw. He stared sullenly at the wall for a few seconds before he felt Andromeda's warm hand touch his.

"Family?" she asked softly, her tone serious and he knew that she was being perfectly sincere. She might be the mirror image of Bellatrix, but her eyes were kind and welcoming.

"Something like that," he agreed with a nervous shrug of his shoulders. Andromeda gave his hand a quick squeeze then leaned back to give him back his space. He got the feeling she was treating him like one would a wild animal that was cornered and afraid.

"Draco," she began in a quiet, earnest voice, "One week ago you gave the Order information that helped them find my husband. You saved his life. I will never be able to thank you enough for that, but please know that you will always have a place in our family if you ever want it."

Draco was overcome by a feeling of something that resembled shame. After everything he had done and how he had acted throughout his youth, he felt suddenly unworthy of the forgiveness and affection offered to him by good people like Hermione and the woman sitting before him now. All his life he had never felt valued, always denigrated and taunted, told to be better, try harder. But he always failed. He was never good enough. To be treated with compassion instead of contempt was like a balm to his soul. It was what had made him cling to the memory of Hermione's kindness after that night in the hospital wing; the way she had put aside past hatred and had embraced him so tenderly. And now Andromeda was offering something that he had always boasted about but never really experienced. A family.

It was all too much. Draco couldn't quite meet her eye but he nodded stiffly and hoped that she got the message and saw through his hard demeanour. He wasn't sure whether he deserved it or not, but this was the second person to really reach out to him with no suspicion or doubt, just simple human affection. He silently vowed to himself that if he survived this war he would do everything in his power to build his own family and follow this new path that was stretching out before him. He wasn't sure exactly how to label the emotion coursing through him right now. But he thought it felt a bit like hope.

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Hermione winced as a floorboard creaked under her foot. It was now a week since she had started slipping into Draco's room each night to curl up in his arms. By some kind of unspoken agreement they had both decided that they slept far better wrapped up together than they did alone. Hermione revelled in these moments with him. In daylight Draco could be prickly, caustic and sometimes too sharp for his own good. But in the pitch black of midnight, there was something so tender about the way he touched her, the way he cradled her close to his chest and breathed her in as if he was worried she might vanish.

But there was still a pinprick of guilt that gnawed at her stomach in the early hours of the morning. A niggling fear about what people might think. So every morning she snuck away from his arms and stole out of his room as the sun was rising, to return to her bed.

Hermione glanced one last time at the figure lying sprawled out and boneless in the bed behind her. Draco looked so peaceful in sleep. His face was relaxed and almost boyish, and he was snoring softly into his pillow. It was endearing really. She smiled fondly as one leg twitched restlessly beneath the sheet, shaking her head at the bizarre thought that Draco Malfoy of all people actually looked cute. It was a word she thought she'd never use to describe him.

With a wry shake of her head she sidled out into the hallway, tugging her robe around her to ward off the chill and very carefully pulling the door shut.

Maybe I'll ask to take him outside, she thought vaguely, thinking about the ragged little courtyard out the back of the kitchen. At least the air would be fresh and the walls different.

Smiling a little wider at the fleeting idea, Hermione spun around in the direction of her bedroom. Suddenly she froze and her feet grinded to a stop on the coarse wooden floorboards. She had come face to face with a pair of accusing green eyes, glinting in stunned fury as they traced a path between her and the door to Malfoy's room. Hermione's lungs sucked in a painful gasp of air and she felt her blood rush in a shocked daze to her head. Only one word managed to come out of her mouth, her voice a mere terrified squeak.

"Harry!"

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Oh my gosh I'm sorry. I'm so mean. I am a horrible person to leave you with such a cliff hanger. But stay tuned for fireworks! Review and let me know what you think!