CHAPTER 13: Performance Anxiety
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The room was silent, except for Draco's raucous laughter. He cackled by her thigh for a good two minutes. She couldn't get a word in. Annoyed, she sat down and waited, cross-armed, for Draco to stop.
"Hermione, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Come on, then. Give us the story. I'm dying to see how you've managed to feel guilty about Pansy attacking the family. Seriously. Go on!" By the end, he had gone from laughter to angry shouting.
"Draco, don't mock me," she said softly. "I took a sleeping potion! I should have been keeping watch. It's why I didn't wake up right away when Pansy was nearby, why I couldn't feel her like I felt her back at Hogwarts. It's why you got hurt so badly, why I didn't hear you call for help..."
Everyone watched, enthused, as he reached up and caressed away the slow-flowing tears. Her voice had started to falter. To the adults who had never seen them interact at lunch or at school, this was a phenomenon. This was proof that Draco was a kind, lovesick boy beneath all the snarky remarks. If they had ever doubted the strength of their connection, it was strangely obvious now. Even Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Pansy were slightly shocked to see him drop his defenses so quickly and thoroughly. For a moment, they wondered what had happened in that hospital. What was happening even now before their eyes?
"You didn't hear me because I didn't call, Hermione. There wasn't time. I left you behind, even after all you tell me about letting you in, and I'm sorry. But it's not your fault and you don't have anything to confess," he explained sweetly, tilting her chin up towards him with his long index finger.
She was having trouble looking him in the eyes. She didn't want him to know all that she held secret. She didn't want him to know about his father or about Snape's true allegiances or Seneca… So she pulled away much too quickly. It looked wrong, like she hadn't accepted his apology. Everyone knew there was more to the story and Draco thought he knew what it was.
"There's more. I think it's my turn to confess," he said, standing. He took a deep breath and set down his napkin on the table. He didn't look anyone in the eye, not even Hermione, so his empty plate was suddenly very interesting. "I was unable to turn back as quickly as I once did after fighting off Pansy. Hermione experienced something similar at the manor all those months ago. I'm starting to worry that the more we change, the harder it's going to be to change back. I'm terrified that those Death Eaters we saw die at Hotel Gravita were not the Dark Lord's failed experiments but rather our eventual condition."
Hermione shut her eyes, covered her mouth with her hand, and started shivering. Draco sat back down and turned his attention to his hands in his lap. Ron made a whistling noise, pointing out the heaviness of his statement. He, Harry, and Ginny still had the disfigured faces of those men burned into their memories. It made Ginny choke on her own saliva and she found herself hiding her face in Harry's shoulder.
Narcissa uncrossed her arms and stood. "Dear God," said Moody, eyeing her expression carefully. "What else have you to confess? Do you dislike carrots? Were you a man once? I secretly remind you of your father? What could possibly follow that statement?"
She seemed peeved, more and more each second. "No, you moron! I was going to say – if you don't mind me speaking in my own bloody house – that I agree with Draco and that this is quite possibly the most horrendous engagement announcement ever. You are all awful, awful people. Did nobody care I was getting married? Honestly! Of all those confessions, ours was the only one that brought any sort of happiness into this house and you all simply disregard it. Do you simply prefer to feel like crap every day? Is it more satisfying?!"
Draco chuckled softly, hoarsely, lifting his eyes off his lap for the first time. "I cared, Mother," he said in the same eerily normal voice.
She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "Well?"
"Well what?" he asked, not liking her expectant tone.
"Do you approve, son?!" she screeched, slamming her hands on the table. Everyone watched, amused. Of all the confessions, even the peas, this seemed the most trivial and yet, Narcissa was taking it so seriously.
Draco looked at her for a moment, licking his lips as though readying himself to speak. Hermione rolled her eyes because she knew he was just stalling for suspense. He liked having the whole room's eyes on him, liked the attention and the power. He knew he could lighten the mood or kill it permanently with a single word.
He finally parted his lips and answered, "You don't need my approval, Mother. I would never stand in the way of your happiness, just as I know you'd never stand in the way of mine and Hermione's."
Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Pansy all snapped to look at Hermione accusingly. The whole room understood his secret message. He had asked Hermione to marry him, or he would. It was inevitable, they knew. Any sort of denial concerning the longevity of their relationship had been stricken from their minds long ago, but it was still a harsh reminder. It was very easy to think of Draco and Hermione together for years to come, fighting as they do now every for the right to be together. It was another to think of them publically declaring their love, having children, moving into a castle together far away. It was too hard to consider a life without Voldemort threatening them at every moment. It was too hard to consider a life past Hogwarts.
Narcissa gulped and nodded. "I understand. I don't think you'd let me, would you?"
He smirked. "Of course I wouldn't. And I'm very happy for you both, Mum."
Narcissa let out a laugh of relief and looked to Moody, who seemed to be smiling. They couldn't be totally sure. His face sometimes wrinkled in strange ways. He nodded once at Draco and gestured for Narcissa to sit back down.
"Alright then," said Moody with the same authority Lucius once had at the Manor. "If we're all done giving each other nightmares, I invite you all to sit and talk with us in the living room with some music. Otherwise, you are free to retire to your rooms with the promise that I and the other Aurors will investigate all of these concerns to the fullest extent. Tomorrow. Tonight, we sleep in peace. Christmas is near and I will not have worries in our house on Christmas."
Everyone agreed and went on their way. Draco and Hermione were the last to leave, somewhat unable to look at each other and too tired to stand on unsteady feet.
"Are we all right?" asked Draco softly, both staring at their plates as they disappeared before them and the table was cleared instantly.
Hermione nodded. "I think I need some music right now," she whispered, still avoiding his gaze. She stood with much trouble and a heavy heart and extended her hand out to him. "Are you coming?"
He smiled sadly and took her hand, following her to the living room where they cuddled up before the fireplace. Hermione didn't read. Draco didn't do homework or even speak. They just watched the fire dance in each other's arms and worried silently.
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They couldn't go out for security reasons so they mostly lingered in the living room or read up in their rooms. The Aurors were kind and let them roam around the house without issue. Hermione had promised to watch Draco and nobody doubted their intentions anymore. They weren't apart for longer than ten minutes the entire holiday but they barely talked anymore. To Ron and Pansy, who seemed to look upon them with curiosity – looking for role models for their relationship more than anything – it seemed odd how they could just look at each other and understand any silent command. When Draco was hungry, he looked to Hermione and she led him to the kitchen instantly, making him exactly what he'd desired. The others wondered if even they knew they were doing it but it had become most obvious come Christmas Eve.
Narcissa had asked Draco to move his broom out of the kitchen and he lingered to talk Pansy, Ron, and Harry so he hadn't seen Hermione dress upstairs. Though he was in the kitchen, he suddenly stopped in mid-conversation and turned towards the stairs. A minute later, Hermione walked down the stairs in a long red satin dress, her hair in shiny, brown waves. Her lips and cheeks were reddened and her eyes made-up, her feet clad in strappy sandals of the same color. Her skin looked glistening, not just pale, and her eyes lit up when she saw him standing at the doorway into the living room with his hands in his jacket pockets.
He wore a black dinner jacket over a pale blue t-shirt and dark blue jeans, which only made him look blonder but dashing as ever. He looked increasingly casual the longer he was with Hermione but she knew it was that he was foreseeing the worst. He really didn't care about uncomfortable appearances when he knew he might be spending the rest of his life in black and white stripes and ugly, rusting shackles.
"You look beautiful," he whispered from across the room, waiting for her to come to him. They hadn't really kissed since the confessional dinner, hadn't slept together in even longer because of his injuries, but when he saw her standing there with her hair shiny and her eyes lit with love, he crossed the room and crushed his lips to hers in front of a houseful of Aurors. His arm wrapped around her waist and he hungrily deepened the kiss like they hadn't seen each other in years, bending her back slightly with the force of his lust.
Harry walked in from the kitchen to see what was happening, saw them, and groaned. He turned right back around on his heel, his ears red like he'd just walked in on them having sex. That red dress didn't exactly leave much to the imagination and he'd just seen enough tongue to last him a decade. Moody cleared his throat twice and Draco pulled away, both utterly out of breath.
"My God," said Tonks, who had just arrived alongside Lupin in their usual attire. "It's like watching monkeys at the zoo."
"No no," said Fred and George at the same time. Fred continued, "Monkeys are too high up the food chain. They're more like those dogs going at it on the front porch."
"Maybe bunnies," added George, clinking his champagne glass with his twin's.
The Aurors laughed but Draco and Hermione didn't see anyone else. Their eyes were locked, golden with lust, for the first time since Hogwarts and they didn't care who was in the room. Hermione's parents had arrived that morning and were luckily upstairs. Moody had escorted them himself and they'd needed a few minutes to recuperate after the small flying lesson.
Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed throughout the house, calling them to dinner. Everyone scurried to the ridiculously long dinner table. Ron, who was used to his stuffy but warm little house, instantly said, "I wouldn't want to see someone pass the salt across this bloody thing."
The kids laughed and took their seats. This time, there were no confessions though Mr. Weasley kept making remarks about the lack of peas on his plate and how it was the best Christmas ever. Draco and Hermione looked at each other and snickered, sharing a silent, private joke. Ron shook his head and sighed. He leaned into Pansy and whispered, "In case you can read my mind and choose not to tell me, I apologize in advance for all those daydreams about the Bahamas, the hammocks, and you in a yellow polka-dot bikini."
Draco and Hermione snorted into their forks. Pansy laughed and replied just as softly, "I don't know about telepathy but we do have really super hearing so shhh."
Ron reddened a little. He wasn't used to being seen as a sex object. Ever.
After dessert, everyone moved to the couches by the fireplace and lounged about, stuffed. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were laughing it up with the Weasleys so they didn't notice nor mind Hermione sitting on Draco's lap on the floor by the coffee table. Ron and Harry were playing chess while Ginny and Pansy tried to have a conversation without threatening each other. Fred and George watched, chuckling at the awkwardness of it all.
Around 8:00 p.m., Hermione was the first to excuse herself and went up to the Christmas tree in the entrance to pick up a little green box. She sat back down beside Draco on the floor and hugged her satin-covered knees, placing the box in his palm shyly. He could wrap his fist around it, it was so small.
"What's this?" he asked, pulling at the bow. She shrugged like it was no big deal. Under the wrapping was a black velvet box. He opened it slowly. A lot of the laughter had died though not completely as the room watched their interaction.
Inside the box was a ring. A signet ring. He turned to her for an explanation. She smiled and answered, "I felt bad about taking yours. You don't realize it but you always reach for that finger, feeling about for the weight of it. But, since your father's crest comes with so much family baggage, I had one made with a snake wrapped around a griffin instead. I dunno. You don't have to wear it. I just wanted you to have a new crest for your new family."
He stared at her, the ring in his palm, with parted lips. She looked at her knees, feeling his eyes on her cheek and neck. She didn't want to look at him and feel what could spell disaster. But he didn't say anything. With a heavy sigh, he reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a simple gray envelope.
"Here," he said. She opened it with the same cautious speed he'd used. It was sealed in golden wax, no emblem. If he'd gotten her a check or something stupidly aristocratic, she'd have a heart attack. But no. It was just another picture of white peacocks running around the lawn of a gorgeous white palace with enormous yellow bushes, a drawbridge, four towers, and tall, thin pines at the entrance.
"Oh," she said, smiling. She brought his face to her lips and kissed his cheek. "It's lovely. I'll add it to my collection."
Fred and George looked outraged. "Are you serious?" asked Ron, who could see down at the gifts clearly. "She welcomes you to the family with a silver signet ring and you get her a single picture of some birds?"
Pansy covered her mouth to hide the chuckles. She snatched the picture from Hermione's hands and laughed. "Draco, you didn't!" she squealed. "That's so lovely!"
Everyone looked confused. If anyone was going to be materialistic, it would be Pansy. "What? What do you mean?" said Ron.
She handed Hermione the photo and tapped on the back of it. An address in Denmark was written in gold ink. "We still don't understand," said Ginny.
"He didn't get a picture of the place. He got her the bloody mansion," explained Pansy.
Any still distant laughter died completely. Hermione snapped to look at Draco, who was smiling warily. He had no idea how she was going to react. He knew she hated extravagances. "You got me a palace?" she asked in amazement, her eyes huge. "You got me a fucking palace in Denmark? Are you insane?"
Narcissa smiled brightly on the other side of the room. "It used to be a summer home for us. He had me move all the peacocks from all our houses over. We cleared out all the nearby zoos and whatnot. It's not very big but he said you'd like it that way. It's there for you any time you'd like to visit, in your name."
Hermione's mouth fell open. She brought Draco into her, hugging him and burying her face in his neck. He chuckled and caressed her back over the satin dress. She was so smooth, so soft. Her spine felt like it was slowly catching fire under his hands. Ron took the picture from the floor and started passing it around as people ooh-ed and ah-ed.
Hermione moved back and announced to the room, "I think I'm pretty tired. I'm going to head up to bed now. Goodnight, everyone."
Harry, Fred, and George snickered. Draco watched her climb up the stairs, smirking. "Uh, yes," he said, yawning dramatically and standing. "I'm going to head up to bed too. 'Night!"
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Draco chuckled nervously and closed the door behind him because he knew what was going to happen. Everyone in the house knew what was going to happen. So, he lingered a little too long on the doorknob, his back to her, regretting ever coming upstairs but finding it almost impossible not to. She cleared her throat and pulled down the straps on her dress, letting it gather by her ankles. He turned around slowly, tugging at his shirt collar which now seemed to be choking him.
She gulped and stepped forward, shoulders back and head high. His eyes wandered down her body and he suddenly forgot how to breathe. She thought she was going to start shivering but she only felt heat rising up her arms and legs, reaching and reddening her cheeks. He let a slow moan escape the ball of dread gathering at his throat. He cursed lightly which only made her smile. Their eyes begged – hers for him to take the lead, his for the dress to go back up.
He wanted to, of course, but it was the knowledge that his mother was downstairs listening in, that this was going to be the last time if he gets sent to jail, the possibility of death and pain and… His hands froze at his collar. He sighed and stepped forward but she just stood and waited for him to take her.
"Hermione," he began, shaking his head, "we don't have to do this."
Suddenly, she felt truly naked for the first time. She put herself out there, practically begged for his body, and he denies her? Her mind was blank, frozen. He walked past her and set his watch and new signet ring down on the bedside table. She continued to face the door, completely taken aback.
"What?" she finally asked, spinning around. "Why the hell not? Draco, this might be the last time we have to—"
"I know!" he shouted. Of course he knew. "But we don't have to."
She looked down at her red heels. "Yea, I guess we don't," she replied softly, obviously hurt.
He shut his eyes tight and stopped pushing back his dinner jacket. "Look, 'Mione, it's not that I don't want you."
"Then what?" she snapped, bending down to pick up her dress. "Tell me then. What has suddenly changed that you can't touch me, that you don't want me?"
He bit the inside of his cheek, keeping himself quiet. He just looked at her, stared, useless.
"What changed, Draco?!" she shouted, her voice squeaking with wounded rage.
"I'm scared!" he shouted in reply. She took a step back. Her furrowed brow and wide eyes begged him to continue but he couldn't look at her. "I'm terrified of—of hurting you, ok?"
Her shoulders fell and the crease down her forehead was erased in a matter of moments. She rubbed at her eyes, never more tired, and tossed the dress onto the ledge of the large closed window on her left. "Why? You could never hurt me. You know that."
She said it but she didn't really believe it. There was a chance he could hurt her. There was a chance he could kill her. They always thought he couldn't hurt her if she was just as strong as he was, if she was another werewolf, but the incident at the Burrow made them question everything. What if he lost control the way Pansy often did?
"You know that's not true anymore, 'Mione. Every time we change, the monster gets stronger. I've changed more than any of us. I was one of the first lab rats. The wall is getting very thin and I just don't know if I can push it back," he explained as best he could. There was more, of course. There was the situation, the stress… but this was at the center of it all and it was something she understood too well because she too feared the monster brewing inside them.
She stopped right in front of him and lifted his chin so they'd be eye to eye. She smiled the way lovers do, with unconditional fearlessness. It was a façade, they both knew, but he wouldn't deny her sentiments. "Hey," she whispered, resting her forehead to his. "I love you. I trust you."
He gulped but didn't pull away. "We can't."
She smirked. "We shouldn't. Doesn't mean we can't," she answered quickly, seductively. She didn't want him to have any time to wonder and reconsider. Her hands caressed up his sleeves and, upon reaching his collar, pulled him in for a slow kiss. He barely responded so she bit lovingly at his bottom lip, pulling softly. She pushed the jacket back over his shoulders onto the floor and he allowed himself to kiss her back. The longer they kissed – it felt like a year in a minute – the more confident he felt to continue.
He grew impatient as her hands penetrated the rim of his blue t-shirt and caressed up his chest. "Oh God, what are you doing to me?" he moaned against her lips.
She snickered and he twirled them around, falling atop her on the bed to better give in to his desires. She lifted her arms up over her head as he kissed down her body towards her legs, removing her shoes as he kissed her thighs. She giggled and it only drove him further. He literally ripped off his trousers and climbed back atop her, settling himself between her hips.
He let out a low growl, deep within his chest, and his breathing sped up so much that Hermione couldn't tell whether it was lust or fear anymore. Then, the moan turned into a feral growl and he pulled back, leaving her there atop the tussled sheets with bruised lips. He raked his long fingers through his hair and paced by the foot of the bed.
With a deep, disappointed sigh, she propped herself up onto her elbows and watched him move. "Crap, crap, crap," he recited, trying to will the erection away. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm—"
"Stop!" she shouted and he paused in mid-step to turn to her. Was she angry with him, he pondered. She had never been angry with him over something like this but then again, nothing like this had ever happened before.
"Don't look at me like that," he begged.
"This is ridiculous, Draco!"
She sounded angry and it made Draco want to quiver up into a little ball and die. It was one thing to be angry at him for doing something ridiculous or dangerous. He did so often. It was another to be angry at his performance in bed. She might as well have punched him in the stomach and left him there naked on the floor. Hell, she might as well be Pansy and the thought made him want to vomit.
She sat up and patted the bed beside her. He stepped cautiously over and did as instructed. "Do you want this?" she asked, perfectly serious like this was the greatest decision of their lives. In truth, it only served to distract them from the dangers of the trial, of the real world outside that room, as it should be. The dangers were not allowed to penetrate the bedroom.
He gave a sad laugh. "Are you kidding?"
She stood up and put her hands on her waist. "Good. On your back then."
"What?" She rolled her eyes and pushed him back down. She walked over to her bags and rifled through, humming to herself. Draco smirked and watched her intently as she pulled out a pair of chains he knew too well. He chuckled as she wrapped them around his wrist onto the headboard. "I can't believe you're doing this."
She smiled deviously and straddled him, positioning herself so he slowly entered her. He arched his back and rested his head back, still unsure this was happening. That was, until she bent forward and started biting at his neck. The growl returned and before she could even raise her hips so she could go down on him again, his eyes turned bright gold and he bore his teeth.
She only laughed and whispered into his ear, "Do whatever you want, honey. Growl, moan, scream… You're mine for the rest of the night."
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Was it worth the wait? Thanks to Aleatoire for illustrating the original chain scene from LLDM, Ch. 4. Link's on my profile. Trial and NC-17 continuation coming soon! Yes, they do shift tonight… after.
Reviews are better than yellow polka-dot bikinis.