Chapter 16
The house was eerily quiet. Sometimes she would hear a car in the street outside. She didn't know where Edna was, and she really didn't want to go upstairs. Hermione had seen dead people before, people who had died horribly, but this quiet, empty death was terrifying. Poor Delia, died with this poor substitute for a family. Hermione couldn't image anything worse. She adored both of the ladies, but it isn't family.
She refused to think of her family. If she did, she would start crying and wouldn't stop. Stuck in this awful prison she was in. It was all so unfair. She wondered if Delia had any family in the outside world, people who loved her and didn't even know she was dead. She doubted the Ministry would inform muggles of the death of mudbloods.
And if she were to die, her family would never be told. Who would come to her funeral? Maybe Neville and Luna, she thought with a smile. Just like her and Edna would be the only people who will come to Delia's funeral, a poor substitute for a family.
Hermione couldn't keep her morose thoughts at bay. And she couldn't keep her resentment and bitterness out either. Her defences were completely down and the unfairness of everything just bombarded her. Maybe she was better off crying.
She sat in the sitting room for a few hours longer, knowing she should be sorting out an undertaker. Someone who would have to be paid, not to mention the actual funeral costs, which meant she had to sell her jewellery to get some money and it all seemed too hard at the moment. So she did nothing. Maybe she could just barter the jewellery directly with the undertaker she thought with a sigh.
The fire flared to Hermione's half hearted astonishment. Draco stepped out, which wasn't really astonishing as she had ignored his message earlier, but it was still a surprise to her.
"I don't like it when..." He started coldly, "What's wrong?"
Hermione could only stare at him for a while, "Um." She started, "Delia died."
"One of the biddies?"
She nodded and looked out the window. She didn't want to deal with him right now. Maybe he would go away like his owl did.
He shrugged and went to pour himself a drink. "She was old."
Hermione could only grit her teeth. Why did he have to be here? Couldn't he see that she wasn't up to it right now?
"Have you informed the Ministry?" He asked.
"Yes." She answered tersely.
"I didn't kill her." He said.
Might as well have, Hermione thought bitterly before cursing herself because the tears were now coming on strong.
Draco stood across the room looking awkward as Hermione started to break down in big blubbery sobs.
"Have you organised anything?" He said quietly after a while.
Hermione shook her head. "I just can't...", she started but couldn't finish as a new set of tears assaulted her.
He put his drink down and stepped over to her.
"Hush." He said and pulled her up. He pulled her into him and proceeded to hug her.
Hermione felt stiff as he put his arms around her. She wanted more than anything to melt into him. Seek the comfort on offer.
"I will sort everything, ok?" He said. "You just pull yourself together. Have you got anything black?"
Hermione shook her head. It was just another seemingly impossible thing to organise. His scent was completely enveloping her now. She just wanted to melt into him, let him take care of things like he said. Let him take her burdens for a while. It would be so easy. But he was a Malfoy, they gave nothing and there was always a price to pay. But she couldn't be strong right now.
She had never let someone take over, trusted someone to take care of her, but she needed it more than anything right now. He was the wrong person for the job on pretty much every level. She had never met the right person, even Harry couldn't be trusted to not do something stupid. That was never the issue with Draco, he just couldn't be trusted, period. But right now she needed to let go. Whatever the price was she would pay it. Later.
For now she melted into the warmth of his body and let him hold her.
"How soon do you want the funeral?" He asked and she could hear the deep rumble of his voice through his chest as she leant her head on his shoulder.
"As soon as possible."
"Have you eaten anything?"
"I'm not hungry."
"I will send one of the elves over to prepare some lunch. You need to eat something."
Hermione wasn't hungry, but she didn't argue. She let him tell her what to do, even though the small voice in the back of her mind reminded her that this is a completely selfish person who would throw her to the wolves if it benefited him.
"Is there anyone you need to invite?" He asked, catching Hermione off guard. It took her a few seconds to process what he was saying.
"No, its just us." She said. She doubted any of Delia's old colleagues would show up like they would have if it was ten years earlier. Even if they were prepared to come, they didn't deserve it. This brought a fresh wave of tears, which was soaking through Draco's white shirt.
"Alright. You go make a cup of tea." He said. "I will go arrange everything, then I will be back."
Hermione didn't make a move.
"I am sure the other biddy is parched." He said. "You should see to her."
She knew he was motivating her to move. She nodded and stepped away.
Draco left immediately and Hermione went to the kitchen to put the kettle on.
He was back an hour later.
"The funeral is on this afternoon." He said and Hermione was shocked at the speed.
"You said you wanted it as soon as possible." He said when he noticed her reaction. She nodded.
"There are men coming now to prepare her." He said and made himself a tea. Hermione would never have guessed that he knew how to prepare his own tea, but apparently he did. "Then we will transfigure one of you dresses into something a bit more appropriate.
It would be the first time in a while since she'd wear an appropriate dress, she smiled bitterly to herself.
The funeral went without a hitch. It was raining, but somehow Draco was prepared with two umbrellas for her and Edna.
It really was sweet that he stayed, she thought. He could have just left her to it.
In fact he stayed after too. He had dinner with them. Dinner the elves had prepared. Hermione was famished because try as she might, she couldn't get much down at lunch.
It was nice to have him there, rather the idea of him was nice. The idea of someone you can lean on, depend on. Is this what it was like to have a husband? Her brain was well muddled by now, cried out completely.
Shortly after dark, he took her upstairs and to bed. It was really nice to feel cared for. She expected him to leave now but he stayed and laid on his back while Hermione cuddled into him.
She half slept but seemed to wake every hour or so. He was still there. So warm.
She was having horrible dreams. Not violent, just desolate, empty and dark. And his warmth was like a beacon.
She could feel dawn coming like a change in the air. Along with a strong desire to escape the horrible place her head was in. Her hands felt frozen and his skin was so warm. She burrowed it under his shirt against his skin. It was so smooth and warm. She wanted to kiss him. She leant in and felt his breath of her lips. She leant in further and kissed his chastely. She could feel it the instance he woke.
He took control of the kiss and deepened it, pulling her in closer to the warmth she craved. After a while, he rolled over on top of her, deepening the kiss even more.
Her body finally responded with some heat of its own and it felt glorious. His leg was between hers and the friction was igniting a fire as she felt his entire body along hers.
She needed more skin. All of it exactly. And proceeded to grapple with the tear stained shirt that was in her way. It didn't take long and he helped get rid of whatever it was she was wearing.
He explored her neck while her hands roamed his back and hips. She needed more. She wrapped her legs around his hips telling her intent. To her annoyance he held off for a while. She knew he was ready, she could feel it. She also knew that the small movements of her hips were making it hard for him to slow things down.
With a growl, he relented and slid inside her. The sensation was just as strong as if she had potion help. It vibrated throughout her body with every movement. He was still trying to slow things down and she groaned in frustration. He distracted her with a deep kiss that both distracted and added something.
When it broke, he was so completely focused on her, she almost felt mesmerised. She was locked into his eyes as he started to move inside her. And he wouldn't let her go as the sensations were overwhelming her. He was right there as her reality exploded and she dipped into the fabric of existence. That timeless place where everything made sense and where she knew everyone and everything was connected and as it should be.
She had been there many times, but she had never been there while locked into someone else's existence. Never known that uncertain connectedness extended to actual people. To know that this person belonged to the same fabric of existence that she did and to feel that sameness of them in no uncertain terms.
The connection broke as Hermione tried to get air back into her lungs. He was panting on top of her. Again a separate and discreet person.
That had been intimacy on a level she had not know existed and she would never have guessed he would be the person she would feel it with. It was all so wrong and it left her very, very disconcerted. She was pretty sure she had just paid the price.
Intimacy was the price. It was what he was after and he had used her vulnerable state to get it. Actually she had let him lead her the entire way. She felt used and more than a little confused.
Why would he even want that? This was dangerous ground. He was toying with her, she was sure. She felt sick to her stomach.
He got up and dressed as the sun was starting to encroach.
"You will be alright?" He asked and she nodded. "I better go."
Hermione nodded again. Wishing he was already gone.