.~.

Let it Burn

Chapter Six

A step forward

.~.

~*- What a wonder one night can do-*~

The moment she said his name, he swore that all the air inside his lungs was knocked out of him and he had an out of body experience. For years he has been known as just Malfoy. Not that his surname had anything to do with the animosity that she held toward him. Up until Fourth year, it had been a friendly little greeting exchanged between them, like something two people at odds would say to acknowledge each other. It was almost friendly, but only in his delusional eyes. He had come accustomed to the smitten idea of her calling him something other than 'ferret' and 'Malfoy' with the biting tone of abhorrence.

Anything would have certainly done.

Never like this…

…'Thu-thump.'

Draco was in complete disbelief. With Hermione staring at him expectantly, he couldn't find the words to express what he was feeling. Who would have thought that the know-it-all would even whisper his name? He felt as if someone was having a go at him and that he was sure that they would undoubtedly come out and tear him down for even opening his heart to her. Hermione had to be part of it, too. She would love to get payback for all the years of hell he put her through. As he waited, he realized that the anxiety of her calmness was a manifestation of his own nervousness and not some plot to make an ass of him.

Gods, he hoped.

Hermione stared at him for a moment before looking away. She had drawn her arms around her knees once again and was rocking back and forth like a small child. She had an interesting look of contemplation on her face. Evidently, she was deep in thought. It was mesmerizing to watch as it was chilling to wait. If this was what she did whilst in concentration, he wanted no part in what she was preparing to say to him once she did finally collect her thoughts.

It reminded him of what he used to do. He wasn't as artful in the way of communication as she was and his social skills were reserved at best, but he used to draw himself in. For the longest time he dreaded talking to others, a phase that lasted only a few short years. Nevertheless, it had dawned on him as a constant reminder of what life was like before things changed and churned like an unsavory flip. For the worst, that was certain. Now, his social standing was impeccable; no one could hold a torch to him.

But, that wasn't why he cared to compare his old behaviors with the witch.

He had told her of a story, of a little sparrow who was afraid to fly. It was had been a children's book that his mother read to him when he was an infant and every year since starting Hogwarts, she has pulled him aside during the Holidays so they could relive that one moment that they shared only between them. It was special for them, and he hoped it would become special for Hermione and him as well. The sparrow in the book reminded him so much of Hermione that it became the nightmares of his wakefulness whenever he chose to think about it. It was strange that the very thing that he had sent to her on the night he saw her arguing with Weasley was something that he had been familiar with all these years. It only took a second's decision to conjure it and it was on its way.

In the book, the illustration had shown a little bird that had been born into a loving family. Befittingly, she had grown up to be quite the smart little creature; she had a great social network, attended to the things that she ought to watch over, and was driven to do greatness, but when it came time to embark on her own journey, she had become reluctant to leave the comfort of her home. It was not that she didn't want her; with all her heart she wanted to go out and explore but she couldn't bring herself to do so without firm settlement. The guidance of others had become somewhat of a driving force for her and without it, she had nothing. Another bird of a different family had watched her all her life and decided to help, much like he was reaching out to Hermione. They two became friends; he invested in her like a master would do an apprentice and the two eventually departed. It was a tragic ending if he ever saw one, but the message had been very clear.

Everyone is entitled to their own freedom.

Draco couldn't agree anymore.

Lost in his thoughts, he pulled himself together and focused back to the situation at hand. She had called him by his name, and he was determined to figure out where she stood. As open as the witch was, he wouldn't be surprised if there were some things that she kept only to herself.

He was stricken with a sudden urge to discover what she was hiding.

"W-what," he cleared his throat, trying to regain some dignity," what did you just say?"

She blinked at him and frowned. "I said your name. It is Draco, yes? Unless, you've been lying about that."

"Of course not." Again, he cleared his throat. His voice was cracking up like a boy transitioning into manhood. "Truth be told, I didn't think you knew…"

What a stupid thing to say.

Like she didn't know his name.

Between the pug named Pansy and his mates, he was sure she knew he was even if she was hit in the face with Bludger and tossed into hysteric delirium. She would be able to recognize him even through the haze of oblivion. He was just that much of a premonition for her not to forget.

"You did that too," she reminded something that he hadn't thought about in a long time. "You would introduce yourself with your surname first."

"It's customary to do so. It showed standing and deliverance."

"But you didn't do that with me." she said softly, staring at him. "You introduced yourself using your first name. We didn't meet on the train, remember? We met in Madame Malkin's. You were so… nervous. Like it was hard to speak to me without stuttering or finding the wrong word."

"Malfoy's are never nervous," this was a lie and it held true when his words crumbled like a horribly baked cake under the weight of it. She smiled. "I was only eleven and there must have been something in the air. Anyway, I can't believe you remember that. It happened such a long time ago."

Hermione laughed melodiously. It was soothing to hear her laughter. "You sound like we're adults! As if we're both in our late thirties and fondly looking back on our childhood with reserved tenderness. No wonder you have such a stern expression. You need to loosen up a little, enjoy life one day at a time."

He wanted to tell her that it was hard to enjoy life when life was being so fucking horrible to him. At that very moment, he felt his blood boil and not in the normal sense that something wasn't settling well with him. He was angry. Increasingly so, he became angrier at the thought of what he had to do for the Dark Lord and what he had to accomplish in the coming months in order to save his family. His father had done some shit worthy things in his days; even now, he questioned is support and his loyalty to a spirt of mass destruction. His ideals just didn't match his. It was odd how a couple hours with someone like Hermione could open up every single door and shine light on something that used to be so dank.

His arm burned, the coils of the fire searing his skin but he tended to ignore it. His mind was occupied with better things and she was sitting right beside him.

She was incredible.

As the fire of the hearth illuminated her face, it wasn't hard to figure out why he found her so remarkably brilliant.

Small sun-kissed freckles appeared in intricate patterns that expanded across her cheeks and nose. There was a slightly embarrassed hint of color that rose to her cheeks whenever her eyes darted around, obviously avoiding eye contact with him. Her hair, once a nest of unruly curls now cascaded down her shoulders and hit just below her breasts. When had it gotten so long? He had the sudden urge to reach out and play with the soft tresses and that was exactly what he did. His hand caught a single strand and twirled it around his finger. Mesmerized, he looked into her eyes. The simple brown orbs held a spark of amber. Golden flakes flickered and twinkled at him. It was then that he fell into a deeper trance. She gave and gave and got nothing in return. She needn't speak; her heart and soul spoke for her. All she had to do was listen.

"Maybe you're right, Granger." He said smirking. "Maybe I do need to loosen up, as you say."

She must have considered what she said thoughtfully because her cheeks were now glowing like the slightly touched hue of a rose. She looked so divine. Draco never saw anything more breathtaking. He wanted to capture it, but who would want to steal an angel from heaven?

"I-I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure you didn't." he continued to smirk. Teasing her had always been so fun.

Hermione's blush deepened and she looked away, too frightened to even look at him in fear he would twist her words.

Not that he did. He found what she did say humorous to say the least. Who knew the prudent witch thought such lustful thoughts?

To be fair, he hadn't really said anything to make her mad.

"You know," she finally said some time later, looking into his eyes as well," you never gave me any reason why I should believe you."

He looked at her.

"I don't believe a word you've said to me." There was hint of lying in her voice.

Was she teasing him now?

"Would you believe me if I said I've changed?" his hand fell from her hair and was now running lines down her cheek and neck. His eyes followed where his finger was guiding him.

"You've bullied me for years," she reminded him softly. "Called me names, derided me for no reason, poked fun of me in front of the entire school. I can't count how many times you've thrown my books on the floor or called me…" She let the last bit of her sentence trailed off. They both knew what he had called her. No need to bring it up now. "At first, I pitied you. Then, I realized there was something truly revolting in the way that you treated me. Of course, it had everything to do with your upbringing. To be instilled with such hatred at an early age would no doubt lead to negative attributes and a distorted view of the world. I don't blame it entirely on you. I just can't accept that someone could go from hating someone one day and…" she hesitated to find the right word. She had just found it when he moved closer to her and whispered it into her ear.

"Like."

"What?"

"I like you." He stared down at her. His move hand to where hers sat on the cold stone. They were mere inches from each other. "I like you, Gran-Hermione. I have for a while." He gulped, finding saying her words hard to swallow. Hell, if she was able to do it, then so could he. It would get some getting used to. "As hard as it sounds, it's the truth. At the beginning I couldn't stand you, and it wasn't for the reasons you stated. Sure, my parents had some influence on my prejudices. I didn't tease and deride you because you're a Muggleborn. I teased you because I didn't understand how someone so smart and beautiful could possibly outshine me."

"One thing you need to understand is that Pureblood valued themselves than anyone else. And to have you rise above me on every possible stand was a mockery to what I stood for, what my parents stood for and raised me to believe. I didn't do it on purpose. I was only trying to conceal what feelings I had for you. Little did I know that the feelings would evolve into something remarkable, even for me?" he breathed, his eyes burning.

He knew that his words struck her. He watched with newly found confidence as her eyes glossed over and widened. Gods, what the hell was going through her brilliant mind? He wanted to know. He wanted to link his mind with hers and peer into her mind and attempt to string together what she could possibly be thinking. The witch didn't make it easy. Her mannerisms were so carefully placed; he had spent a good amount of his early days reading and then in return trying to decipher them. He had gotten along fairly well; he even considered himself a Granger mind breaker. The highest honor, he was sure.

"Is that why you taunted me during our session? To get detention with me so you can tell me all this?"

"It sure as hell wasn't to sing like a bird and dance like a lunatic." he mused jokingly. "But, yes. Seeing that all my other attempts to get you to notice me had ended horribly, I decided to catch you in your natural habitat- in the midst of learning. Taunting you during our session was a part of my diabolical plan to get you in my clutches. And, it worked."

He grabbed for her. The witch squealed delightedly at his sudden brazenness. The pair danced around a little and exchanged a few sparks of laughter.

"If wizarding society could see us now. I think they would shit bricks." Draco nuzzled her neck playfully.

"I wouldn't know," she smiled. "I always thought the Pureblood, Half-blood stuff was a bunch of rubbage. I don't think I would be suited for such a zealous lifestyle, anyway. Why we can't all be accepting of each other is beyond me. One day, I suppose. But that day isn't now."

"You're not missing anything." He swept her hair out of the way and kissed her neck. "What would you say that I hope for the same?"

They broke apart. Hermione was flushed and Draco was equally unhinged. They took a moment to collect themselves. She sat down for a moment and he stood just beside her, looking down.

"I would say you're barking mad!" she laughed, sitting down and throwing herself back and landed fairly softly on the floor. "The most absurd thing I have ever heard!"

"It's true," he chuckled, leaning back and looking down at her. "Reckon we should take care of the last few boxes?"

She waved her hand dismissively," In a minute. I just want to lay here."

"On the cold, hard ground?"

"Good point." She sat up and sighed.

There was something on her mind.

"What are you thinking?" he asked despite himself.

Hermione looked at him. Her amber eyes were big and reflected a slight golden ambience that he had grown to adore. He then looked at her lips. They were trembling, as were her hands. She was really having quite a difficult time trying to put words into what she had just been told.

What was causing her to be so quiet and reclusive? Had he been wrong to tell her?

Would it have been better to keep it a secret?

No, he thought with quite the conviction he didn't know he possessed. It wasn't wrong because it was the truth. How could he be so selfish to keep it hidden from her? For the greater good or not, he wanted her to leave with something to look fondly back to. Even if he had to build their relationship on the foundation of lies and mistrust, he was sure that she would treasure whatever conspired between them.

"It's moments like this that make me wonder if any of this is real." Hermione didn't break but it might've if she didn't have such a sound control on it. "I can't get over the fact that you were so horrible to me and now we're talking as if nothing happened."

She fell silent once more and it killed Draco on the inside to see her so withdrawn. Biting her lip, he knew then that something was wrong.

"Hermione, please," he begged her. "You must tell me what you're thinking."

"I don't know what to say," she whispered. Her eyes darted about, not knowing where to look.

"Is this about what I said?" he asked. "If it is, what can I do to assuage you?"

"I don't think…"

"Say you believe me."

"Then I would be lying!" she cried. "You must understand that this is hard to accept. Minutes of vulnerability can't erase years of mistreatment. I-I need time to think this over."

Just as she said that, she began to move. Their detention was drawing to an end and they still had several things to transfer to the new classroom. After that, bed. They were both exhausted. Draco could tell just by looking at her that she wanted to go to bed and what kind of man would he be if he did not comply with her request?

He had to let her go.

Draco stood back in his place, his arms crossed out in front of him. The muscles in his arms and chest were quite delicious, and as Hermione moved to stand she took a discreet glance of his physique and gulped. Now was not the time to act upon her own desires and years of secret admiration. Despite being a Pureblood and being virtually untouchable, she secretly found him a bit, well, cute. She never admitted this to anyone. All her girlfriend would either kill her or tease her for liking him. She didn't think she could deal with that sort of humiliation. Draco didn't know why she would be embarrassed with having feelings for him. It was probably the same reason why he hadn't said anything about his feelings towards her to anyone but Theo and Blaise. They understood while others would read between the lines and tack things on where they didn't belong.

He pondered her ability to be so open. Even as her secret admirer, he had been quite surprised to discover that the witch was just filled with juicy secret and treasures. She was quite literally, to put it into words, an open book. No wonder why she read so much. She wanted to be less obvious and a harder read. That way no one would be able to discover what lied within her pages. If anything, he knew. He knew more about the witch than he ever thought possibly and if it weren't for those sparrows, he wouldn't be where he was right now.

Hermione was a gentle creature. One who shared and wore her soul and heart on her sleeves. Her friendliness and giving nature was one of the reasons why he became so drawn to her.

His hand came to caress her cheek. This gesture seemed to intimate and he was risking more than just getting close to her than he cared to admit. As his eyes searched hers, he began to tremble. Maybe it had been a mistake to do this, but he was still willing to find out if it had been.

"Everything you've done can't be erased."

"It sure as hell can't be forgotten," he snarled. He pulled away quickly, marching over to the abandoned storage room where the last remaining boxes say waiting for him. He needed to clear his mind. He didn't know whether or not he should throw something against the wall or get the bloody detention over with. One thing was for sure, he should have waited to tell his secrets to the witch. He knew that she wouldn't listen, much less care. "We better finish up our job so we can get out of here. It's late and I know you want to go. The sooner we get it up there, the sooner I can-"

"No."

Draco stopped what he was doing, turned and looked at the daring little witch. If It hadn't been a serious conversation, he would have said hell to convictions and thrown the witch against the wall and had his wicked little way with her.

He raised a chiseled eyebrow and said," What?"

"I-I said no." she told him sternly.

"No to finishing our detention and going to bed?"

She nodded.

"Who knew you would be one for a restless night?" he grossed. "Unfortunately, I'm not. I plan on getting some sleep tonight. Gods know I could use it."

This wasn't exactly the way he planned for her to find out that his lack of energy and interest steamed from an inadequate amount of sleep. Gods knew that the depletion of magic and energy could be stimulated by a good night of sleep. He was only making excuses now. The Dark Lord was a formidable presence and watched him wherever he went. The only reason he was able to remain undetected for the most part was because he was skilled at shielding his mind. If he knew… fuck, there would be more than just his ass on the line.

The Muggleborn walked from where she stood and stopped in front of him. Looking him over, he knew that she was searching ever available space of his body and face for his mistreatment and abuse. Her eyes combed over every inch of him. He knew that she was taking in the hollowness of his cheeks, and the sunken depth of his eyes and unusual paleness of his skin. Fuck, if he didn't know any better he would say that he was being tormented by demented thoughts every night in the pursuit of something darker. He would not tell her that, of course.

"You look so tired."

He looked down at her, keeping an eye on her hands as they assessed the thinness of his cheeks and jaw. He remained silent.

"What is causing you to lose so much sleep?"

Draco gulped, which went unnoticed to the witch. He couldn't say even if he could.

Instead, he grabbed her wrist and entwined his fingers with hers. "That I cannot say, Hermione. So much is at stake if I even breathe a word of it."

He left it at that before attracting her attention to something else. His goal was to make her trust him, to allow her to open up to her in a way that he will be able to take advantage of what he mind could offer. He didn't want to manipulate her, but it was the only way he could serve the Dark Lord and possible save his family.

I'm so sorry, his eyes seemed to say. Again, the witch was obvious to the underlying condition of their meeting. It would remain like that until he had the nerve to come clean to her. Hopefully, it would only be for this discretion and nothing more. He knew he didn't have the heart to apologize if anything else were to happen to her. If it was any consultation to her, it was eating him up on the inside. He just couldn't tell her.

He felt the witch's hands on him and he looked down. "What are you doing?"

She seemed to pull herself from deep thought. Her head shook just slightly, causing some of her curls to tickle her open neck. He watched with regal determination as she removed her small hands from his chest, looking highly embarrassed.

"I wanted to make sure."

"That I was still breathing?" he raised an eyebrow. "I can assure you that I am, Granger. Now, let's go. We still have those boxes to take care of."

"Forget the boxes, Draco." Hermione said demandingly. "I want to talk to you."

Draco was just about to move when she had confessed her wish.

Why did she have to be so caring? Why couldn't she have just ignored whatever the hell she found and tossed it aside instead of paying attention to it?

"There is nothing to talk about," he told her.

"Yes, there is."

"What is there to talk about?" he snarled. She gasped and backed away from him, frightened by what he might do if she was close to him. Never has it pained to see any girl suffer from the hands of his insanity. He regretted using such a harsh tone. He was just not used to being cared and looked after.

With a softer voice, he said," There are some things that I can't discuss with you."

"I understand," she seemed to whimper softly. "Can I at least ask why, though?"

He shook his head," No, you can't. "Then he paused. "The boy you knew then, Hermione," he began, allowing his eyes to settle on hers as she stared at him. It took a great deal of control not to breakdown, but he held himself together the best he could. "He doesn't exist now, I assure you. It's been years since I've held any real resentment toward you. Whether it was truly ill-willed, or feigned it on my part, I had no choice but to act upon the lesser evil. If you knew what they could have done to me… done to you if I showed any hint of emotion toward you…I'm not asking you to accept me. I'm asking you to be open-minded."

Hermione didn't move. Having been startled by his words, she stood there.

The Slytherin held his breath.

Slowly, she looked up again. Her eyes were glistening.

"I don't think I can, Draco. I want to, but there has to be more than just words. They just don't mean anything right now coming from you."

Shit, she knew just where to strike.

Instead of voicing or showing his hurt, he remained quiet.

"If all that you said is true," she said softly, her voice quivering just a bit," then why didn't you stop until just a moment ago?"

"What do you mean?"

"You called me a Mudblood just the other day and if you like someone, you should at least… at least try to be civil with them. We're not first years. I believe we can act like adults when it comes to manners such as this. It's entirely hard to accept something that I know in my heart can't be true." She shook her head to ease whatever she was feeling and then looked at him. "My mind says one thing and my heart says another."

"I know we're not first years anymore. That's why I… that's why I tried to get you alone. Sure, it wasn't the best of plans but what do you expect? There was no way you would've met me anywhere in public and stepping into your domain was off limits. I had no other choice but to get you into trouble."

"You certainly are attracted to trouble, Draco." she murmured, her eyes widening, astonished. "I can't believe that was the only way you could've gotten me to talk to you. Did all your other trials fail?"

"Most of them," he gritted his teeth, reminding himself not to get angry again. "That's beside the point. I… I'm sorry that it had to happen the way it did. If there was any other way I would have done it. I just needed you willing and the fact that you're listening to me know is absolutely amazing."

He caressed her cheek and smiled.

"What is your heart saying now, Hermione?"

Her hand came to rest on his. "It's telling me I'm being selfish for hiding what I'm feeling," she whispered, her voice a passing current. "That I shouldn't care what my mind thinks because everyone deserves a chance."

"And, your mind?" He was dying to know what that mind of hers was thinking. It would tell him what her heart could not.

The witch caught his gaze and said," That I should consider what my heart feels."

"Then listen," he hissed, reaching toward her and pulling her close. "Listen to what it's saying. I can't promise that I will never hurt you again. I damn well might and would be lying if I said I won't. Shit happens and we both need to learn to accept that. But, I know I can improve. It's not easy to be in a situation like this. It's new for me as well."

His lips hovered over hers, waiting.

"What about the name calling?" her bottom lip trembled a little. He eyed it with passionate longing. "Can you promise me never to say that degrading word again?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Hermione looked at him and he realized then that for the first time in his life that his words had done what they were meant to do.

Her eyes shined with the acceptance of his promise and it was up to him to deliver.

They spent the rest of the night conversing and when it finally was time to retire, Draco made a stand to ensure that Hermione felt comfortable with what transpired between them. Night drew to a slow end and by the time he walked her to the tower, he had made his decision. He sealed it with a kiss. It was deliberately chaste; he didn't want to frighten her with overwhelming her with the downpour of his desire and emotion. She poured everything that she could into it. He knew that she was trying and by the time they pulled away from each other, they were both panting, their eyes half-lidded and filled with raw lust.

He navigated the corridors for quite some time until he was drawn back to the blasted place to which had started it all.

Professor Snape stood with his arm folded over his chest, his eyes glittering maliciously as he watched his Godson walk toward him. He had fulfilled his end of the bargain, as did he. Now, it was time to discuss the next step in what he believe was a little charade between him and the Gryffindor.

"You know what must be done." he drawled slowly. "See to it that you accomplish it in the coming weeks."

With that he vanished, leaving Draco to his muse.

He believed that the Sparrow had finally been set free and that the Serpent finally found someone he could rely on.