Word Count: 4,400+ (total: 7,400+)
Beta: Lord, the amount of beautiful people who put up with me and beta-ed every single one my fics after all my revisions. A list: Michelle, Sam, Edith, Terra, and just recently, Paula! Thanks to all you lovely ladies.
Notes: Second part to everything - I hope this ends well and is liked. I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts!
When Strange Things Happen: Two
Three days passed in the same way.
"Stupid," he muttered, pacing back and forth in his office. "So bloody stupid."
And it really was. Draco shouldn't be thinking about this so much. Although he imagined having nothing to occupy his time at work meant there was little to distract him from pondering about her. He had never been a believer of the you don't know what you have until it's gone, but the mere fact he was thinking of Granger – and not in his normal, callous way – for hours on end, was worrying.
He hadn't realized, days ago, that it was going to be like this if she ever decided to stop talking to him. While he had known it would make his days at work a lot more boring, he hadn't thought it would ever grate on his nerves so much it would reduce him to murmuring to himself in his own office. Not only did his actions make him angrier, but they made him more curious about the mysterious reasons behind her hostile attitude – either way, he thought, he shouldn't be...God help him...worrying about her at all, if this even constituted as such.
When beginning the tentative friendship when as they'd begun working together in a sub-division for Extremely Dangerous Magical Objects – where they visited convicted Death Eater's houses and confiscated any magical objects that were clearly against post-war regulations – there had never been a chance for friendship between their ridiculous arguments and scathing glares. But then, he pondered curiously, he assumed she'd just become annoyed and begun to take his actions in stride, trying to make a good situation out of a bad one; this had indirectly shown him the Harry Potter side of one Hermione Granger, and as he paced his office, he knew he had begun to like this side too much...
Thus, worrying about her now.
Draco just wanted to know what was going on. What could have happened to make her act so different these past couple of days? She hadn't even stopped by his office like she normally did – usually to say a quick hello and to give him any news on their assignment.
Draco thought about shaking her and demanding reasons for why she was behaving like this. Once, he had even begun to walk to her office when he saw her a few days ago, but the expression on her face had stopped him so short he hadn't even thought about going back and asking her since.
It was pissing him off more than he'd ever believed it could – and simply because she wasn't speaking to him…
"She coming to the meeting?" Draco asked his secretary minutes later, motioning his head toward Granger's office. "The one at three?"
"Er…" Sheila hesitated, searching through a stack of notes. "She hasn't replied yet, actually. She should be there, Mr. Malfoy," she said, glancing back up to him with a warm smile on her face.
"Somehow," he replied, leaning on the higher part of her desk, "I doubt it. Notify me if she does respond."
She didn't.
He truly liked Granger as a friend. It was something he hadn't realized until a couple months earlier, though his more compassionate side hadn't exactly surfaced until recently in regards to their friendship – liking her as an acquaintance, as opposed to worrying about her wellbeing were completely different things in his mind.
Draco only used her as an outlet, in the beginning, but then something had altered one afternoon. He'd been in a particularly distraught mood for the better part of the morning, and had only thought to stop in at Granger's office after making his secretary cry twice in a row, having insulted her callously. He'd thought to take it out on his favourite Gryffindor, mainly because she always gave it back and it had always been a rather good method of draining his stamina and anger by angering her in return. More than anything, Hermione Granger's red face and heavy breathing made him laugh and diffused his bad mood faster than he could think of an another idea that could.
They'd argued and traded witty replies for seven minutes before she'd stopped suddenly in one of her tirades and blinked first in confusion, and then in realization. He heard his secretary crying in the background of his panting breath from yelling, and Granger's gaze had settled on her door when she'd paused before resting her eyes back on his taut shoulders, and then up to his smoldering eyes.
"You've got to be kidding," she'd muttered, stepping back.
"What?" he'd snapped.
She'd gone on to call out his ridiculous antics for having forced her to participate simply because he needed to release his obvious anger, and that it wasmore obviously not directed at her. Granger had shaken her head, laughed a little, and then looked up at him with a small smile on her face – to say he had been shocked by her behavior would be an understatement. He had honestly thought she was batshit crazy, and that only escalated when she'd told him, in her most dignified voice, that there were other ways to release such anger.
His eyes had widened considerably, but she only stared back in defiance until, finally, she caught the double meaning in her own words and a blush had risen on both her cheeks and the lower part of her neck as she had looked away in her embarrassment.
Draco had quickly let out a guffaw of laughter, his mood immediately changing from anger, to incredulousness, and then being able to chuckle at her expense. Granger had looked up with a glare, but that had left her expression rather quickly as she slowly, hesitantly, laughed a little at her actions.
Ever since then, things had changed. He'd continued to go to her to diffuse his anger, but she never took it personally like she had before and had humoured him by arguing back – which he appreciated more than she'd ever know.
Though it had been only ten days, it seemed three weeks had passed without her - annoying - voice and motherly tone. Ten whole days without ultimately irritating her and having to deal with the consequences. Of basically knowing a life with no Granger whatsoever.
Which, he was just now realizing, wasn't something he liked.
At all.
Granger opened her door on the third knock, and Draco was instantly shocked by the woman standing in front of him or, rather, the mess standing in front of him. Her eyes and nose were red, her hair was in a very peculiar up-do with several pieces falling out, and she was wearing some type of– Sweat pants, he suddenly remembered her once calling them. Normally, he'd push past her and enter her house once the door was open, but again, as it had so many times in the last few days, her expression stopped him.
"You okay?" he said, at a complete loss in the face of her pain, stepping forward only marginally.
She hesitated and bit her lip, then shook her head slowly, looking up at him with her jaw clenched, in what he assumed was a pose to keep from crying. "Draco…" she trailed off quietly, brokenly. "What are–"
He pressed the door open with one hand and reached around her shoulders with the other, pulling her in and closing the door with one swift motion. He grabbed her in for a hug once the door was shut, and he felt her body start to shake only a second after. Draco wasn't at all certain how to calm down a crying woman, but he knew at this moment, no matter how unnatural it seemed, he wasn't even remotely inclined to leave her. The reasons for that he didn't want to acknowledge at that moment – or perhaps ever.
She was soft and pliable in his arms, and he had a rather hard time forgetting that she was a female with a very womanly body pressed against him. Draco let out a breath from the thought, cradling her closer when she began to shake harder. "Granger," he whispered, slowly running a hand soothingly up her back. Well, he presumed it was soothing enough for her, since she moved closer and began to calm down, if only slightly.
"You've got to tell me what's up."
He grimaced a little, hearing his own words in the silence and wondering where in hell they had come from, and so naturally. Because he hated being nice to her. More accurately, he hated the idea of being nice to anyone on a regular basis. And despite his best efforts, sometimes it just came naturally with her, so he'd compensate by smoking in her face or insulting something close to her heart – but right now? There was no way in hell he could be so cruel. Granger was hurting. A lot. And he would much rather make it all better than make her cry more – a thought, obviously, he would never speak of aloud.Ever.
Draco felt the shake of her head more than he saw it, and he nodded to himself in understanding. He likely wouldn't have wanted to talk about it either had he been in her position. The war had made them all a little more closed off about even the most tedious things.
He pulled back slowly after a few silent minutes, but kept her close when she made no move to release her arms from around his waist. Draco held his breath when their eyes made contact, and he had a sudden urge to take more than just a couple steps away from her.
They were too close.
Way too close.
But it seemed to suit her just fine since she held on a little tighter when he exhaled moments later. "Was it Harry?" he asked quietly, bending over to watch her expression. "Ron?"
Shaking her head, Granger trailed her hand across his hip and leaned further into him – he had to breathe in again when he faltered and began to feel her body. Merlin, who knew she was so soft?
"It wasn't… It wasn't them. Not even…close. I just– Now that…now that you're here, I don't want to be alone."
Draco hated her stutters, because Hermione Granger simply did not stutter. She was a strong female with a genuine personality, formed by the situations she'd endured too early in life – similar to his own. She wasn't supposed to be this broken down. Not after she had gone through the consequences of the war, the aftermath, and everything that followed.
Gently grabbing one of her hands made her look up at him in surprise. "You've got to tell me what's wrong, Granger." He was bloody curious, like he always was with everything. Seeing her like this was not helping in the least. Not when it was being dangled in front of him. He never did well in those scenarios anyway.
Her eyes halted Draco, however, and as he gazed into them, waiting for an answer, he asked himself why he'd never got this close to her before. Granger was…well, Granger, and he shouldn't be liking the intensity in her eyes, but seeing her in this state, seeing her desperate for someone to just be with her – Draco wanted to brush whatever pain there was away.
And then he wanted to kiss her.
Something he shouldn't want.
Her silence seemed profound in that moment, and when she did nothing to answer his question, the only thing he could think to do was lean forward, watch her reaction, lean forward again– Until he pressed his lips against hers.
Something he shouldn't be doing.
Then his mind went blank at the sensation…at one of her hands grabbing his shirt at the back…the other sliding up his torso…the warmth of her stepping closer.
His hand shot up to her hair, burying one in the mass of her bun while the other held her close at the hip. Her lips were soft and wet under his, and every time he pulled away just to return, she was responding with equal fervour. Granger was still crying, but her whimpers were muted between their short kisses.
Draco kissed her hesitantly, shock belatedly settling in beyond the feel of her against him. He'd thought of doing this several times in the past, of just grabbing her and shutting her up the only other way he could think of that didn't entail further yelling. He'd shake his head, insult again assuming they were in another one of their arguments, and completely forget about it moments later. And now?
Now she was letting it happen – likely too emotionally caught up to even register it was him and not someone morally perfect she deserved.
And for some unknown reason, he was allowing himself to do this as well. Without berating himself like he usually did whenever he had the urge. That probably came later. Which was all fine and well if he got to do this, though he was a little doubtful whether he should continue. It was Granger, after all, and she was still whimpering into his mouth as she prolonged her crying.
Granger traced her hands across his stomach, reaching up gently and slowly covering both sides of his face between her hands, simultaneously pulling him closer even as he bent down further. Like they weren't close enough already. Like– Like–
He groaned into her mouth when she bit his lower lip, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her slightly in the process. The death of him, surely, because he shouldn't be doing this with Hermione Granger. No one should be doing this with her, the Queen of Virgins. But he was, and he was liking it far too much, more than he even thought possible.
Not that he did that.
Ever. Not even when he sometimes wanted to feel her lips, her body in his hands. No. He never thought he'd enjoy it. Rather thought her skin would cut his own, her tongue would stab him instead, and he would hate it regardless if it even came close to feeling good. That's what he told himself, at least.
Because that was their relationship.
And he really shouldn't be into this as much as he was.
Granger murmured something against his mouth, and he didn't even wait to hear what it was before he kissed her again, biting her lower lip and loving when she shivered and moaned in his arms. Because he was able to get her to respond, a reaction that didn't resemble a red face and voices being several decibels louder than they should ever get. Normally about something tedious – and this certainly, above anything, was not.
It created a strange feeling in his stomach, though he wasn't too sure if it was because he was kissing Hermione Granger or the fact he knew he was and shouldn't be.
Draco had to pull away.
Because– He was going to be a gentleman for once. She was emotionally unstable, and despite that it was her and not another girl who appeared to need this, they were friends and he didn't want to jeopardize a relationship he appreciated simply because he couldn't keep his cock in his pants.
He had to. For once. Because he was going to be polite like he never had been before.
And, not that he realized it at that moment, because it was her.
"Granger…" he murmured, pulling away slightly and shaking his head as he searched her eyes. For something. Anything. "We shouldn't–"
"Please," she whispered, tightening her hold around his neck as she leant forward. "Just– tonight. Please."
She wanted more. Just like he - apparently - did.
Draco didn't know what to say. Mostly because, if this was any other girl, he wouldn't give a shite about her bloody emotions and how she would feel in the morning. Wouldn't care at all. But this was Granger, with her wide eyes staring up at him. Pleading for him. Save for Pansy Parkinson, she was the only other girl he somewhat cared about – though, he supposed, it hadn't really surfaced until she'd shown herself as…as this.
"Tell me what's wrong first."
She inhaled, blinking rapidly before shaking her head. "It's just…something that…that happened a couple weeks ago. And I really just want…"
He frowned a little, running a hand up her back. "I know, but…" he whispered slowly, speaking into her neck. Granger held onto him, arching her body into his as he pressed a kiss beneath her ear. Draco sure as hell wasn't giving up on the chance of her standing willing before him, no matter that they wouldn't proceed until he knew the full reason. No matter that, after his first touch, all he wanted was more.
"Oh, fuck it," Draco muttered a moment later, holding her more firmly.
He closed his lips around hers, pressing a hand to the small of her back to bring her body even closer. This time he had no hesitation, plunging past her lips and tasting her thoroughly, tangling his tongue with hers as they began stumbling backwards.
No matter that she hadn't told him anything.
A week had passed and nothing changed. Granger– Hermione hadn't returned to work, though she had told him so before he'd left that next morning. She'd said she usually took a couple weeks off when it became too much for her to handle, and since their last assignment had been rectified, she saw no reason to go back just yet.
He'd agreed entirely.
Because he'd slept with her, and that surely meant she was pushed to her limits, perhaps even beyond. She'd been quite vocal about his apparent love for females, and for her to simply let them slide for one night? It definitely signaled something wrong in her life.
Draco had yet to figure out what was wrong with her.
Work had been especially boring in the days following. More so since Draco knew for fact that there was something wrong with Granger, and having to deal with her absence when he couldn't return, lest she'd changed her mind about their friendship, had been trying. He'd have to return at some point, to at least make certain she was okay. He told himself it was because she wasn't holding up her half of their workload.
Draco had already started a cigarette by the time she answered the door, and he blew the smoke out into the foyer of her home as he passed her. He wasn't quite sure how to act around her now that it had happened, so he decided that acting as if nothing had was best. Like usual.
And she did the same.
"People are suspecting you've died," he greeted, settling himself onto her sofa.
"No doubt," she replied with a sigh, following him. "I imagine you didn't come here just to tell me this?"
"How observant of you," he said, blowing out a rather nice set of rings. "Now tell me what's got you so upset."
"Well, since you asked so nicely…"
"I mean it, Granger. I deserve to know."
Which blatantly brought up what they had done last week. There was a flash in Granger's eyes, though she shifted away moments later.
"That was–"
"Not something we'll talk about." Because even now, Draco could still remember her writhing beneath him – every sound she made when he touched something sensitive. The softness of her thighs, the pertness of her nipples, the length of her neck… Everything. And he needed to forget, and talking about it obviously wasn't something that would help. "But there's a reason. There has to be."
"And what if I don't want to talk about it?" she asked finally, her voice returning to that broken tenor she'd recently picked up.
"Then you'll have to deal with it. You dragged me into this when–"
"When I what? Made you come to my house?"
"When you pleaded with me!"
"That does not count! You have no idea why I was in such a state to not back away from comfort."
"And that is exactly why I'm asking you what's wrong! For Merlin's sake, you were acting nothing like your normal self. Like the lights were on, but no one was home–"
"Oh, do not compare to me to a song!"
And silence. He looked at her quizzically, paused in his argument by her exclamation seconds before. "What?"
"The song! I thought…perhaps you were comparing me to…a song." Granger's voice slowly died out by the end, her tone sounding more and more uncomfortable as she spoke.
"A song," he echoed, sighing. "A bloody song." Because that was what had stopped him from getting closer to the truth. Something, dare Draco admit it, he was somewhat worried about. What if she was raped? Perhaps even worse? "That doesn't explain to me what the hell is going on with you, Granger."
"And I still stand by my previous statement; I do not want to talk about it!" Standing up, clearly fed up with his persistence, she whirled toward him. "If this was all you came for, I suggest you leave. You won't be getting any information from me."
"I beg to differ, actually," Draco said, choosing to tower over her. For argument's sake.
"Oh, really! You think you can just argue with me until I give up? You even believe in that arrogant head of yours that I will?"
"I think," Draco drawled, stepping forward, "that you'll tell me because I deserve to know. Like I said."
"You deserve nothing, Draco, least of all something like this. Like I said, get out!"
"No!" he yelled, finally angry enough to unleash his fury. "I ruined a completely good friendship because you decided to let this happen. Now I have to act like nothing happened just so I can still be the stupid git to you – and not be the fucker who took advantage of you when you were crying! The least I deserve is to know just why, don't you think?"
"Don't even!" she exclaimed, gaining a couple feet between them by stepping back. "Don't even try and manipulate me like you always do to get information. This is something serious, Draco. Not to sate your curiosity and-"
"Oh, don't you 'serious' me!"
"And don't try and convince me! I'm done, Draco. I just– I can't take this anymore. Harry and Ron leave me alone when this happens. No one else notices. Why is it you who has to pester me about it?"
Draco let out a harsh breath, unable to think of a response. His shoulders sagged from all the breath he'd lugged in during their argument, and he pulled a hand through his hair in irritation. "I don't know, Granger. I just… I don't know."
His indecision and the clearly hopeless tone he'd taken on spurred something within her, and he watched as Granger plopped down on the sofa in front of him, sighing and looking to her clasped hands. "My parents are dead, Draco," she whispered. "Every year, my remaining family holds a…a gathering of sorts," she said, slowly, unsurely, like she wasn't sure whether she really wanted to let the one person she'd never confide in know her secret. "Which was three weeks ago… It should get easier every year, I know it should, but it doesn't. My entire family is always there. It– reminds me too much of…everything. The war. All of it, and it just– kills me."
He blinked four times, gazing at the girl in front of him. Draco glanced to the mantle, the door, and then back to the brunette. Draco had to– do something.Anything.
A moment later, she was cradled in his arms, crying into his shoulder as he held her once more. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "So sorry."
And he really was – no person deserved such a fate. Certainly not someone as genuinely caring as she was. And he had the devil to pay if he ever said that to her, or aloud at all. Stupid, soft heart over a crying girl, he berated himself.
He shouldn't have had sex with her in such an emotional state, he shouldn't have visited her today, but now that she was in his arms again, he realized he had missed her much more than he'd originally thought.
Much more.
And perhaps enough to not completely forget what had happened between them.
Especially not now, clasped as she was against him. Again.
And certainly not when, a few minutes later, he could faintly feel her hands pulling him closer, pulling his head closer, and he had to stop himself from searching for her mouth by pressing his lips against her neck instead. That neck…
Granger let out a breath from the gesture, apparently liking it as her hands tensed around his shoulders. "If you want to leave now, Draco, since…since it's breaking up our friendship– then you should…"
"And what if I don't want to?" Draco whispered too fast, unable to hold back his immediate answer, one he knew he should have thought about thoroughly first. He pulled her tighter against him, because not even he could resist at that moment.
So she kissed him.
He thanked all deities above them, wondering how he'd gone so long without having her right here, touching him. So many times the tension had been obvious, and they had mutually – and silently – agreed to ignore it just like they did with every other aspect of their relationship. But now…
Now he didn't think he would ever stop.
Simply because he couldn't.