{ Chapter Fifteen }
Several hours later Draco and Hermione had been escorted to a small office on the second level of the hospital. Theo had brought Draco a pair of blue jeans and a long sleeved black pullover. He hadn't been able to find any clothes for Hermione at the house, so she was wearing one of Draco's old Slytherin quidditch t-shirts and a pair of black sweat pants that were way to big on her. She looked like a little kid swimming in the over-large clothes.
The two of them sat side by side in front of a large wooden desk and waited as the witch in front of them finished writing on her parchment and finally looked up at them. She was an older witch. She had black hair streaked with gray running down her back. Her face was kind, though, and she smiled at each of them.
"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. I've heard many things about you. Before we get started, may I offer my congratulations on your nuptials? Yours will be a story for the ages, I am sure."
Hermione raised her eyebrow at the woman in surprise. What kind of story would they make? A fairy tale? A drama? A romance? A horror story? At this point it could be any of the above and then some.
"Thank you, Healer Brunswick." Draco wasn't sure whether or not to laugh at the woman. That seemed a bit rude, so he smiled politely instead. "I'm sure Theo has filled you in on why we're here?"
She regarded him for a moment before responding. It was obvious to her that he wanted to keep the discussion off of their relationship and on to more important matters. Like why his wife had blown up part of his house and nearly killed himself and one other man.
Matilda had reviewed all known information on Hermione prior to their appointment. She knew that Hermione was a very bright, very powerful young woman that had fought alongside Harry Potter in the war and was instrumental in the downfall of You-Know-Who.
She was also a woman that had experienced much tragedy in her young life. There were unconfirmed rumors that she had been captured and tortured during the war. She had seen many deaths and escaped death many times. Her parents had been murdered. She had married only months later to one of her best friends. Two and a half years later she was found beaten nearly to death. Three months after that she disappeared off the face of the earth. Until a week ago, when Draco Malfoy had filed to become her sponsor and brought to light the cruel circumstances she had been living under for five years.
Matilda had expected to meet a young woman that was beaten by life. Sad, depressed, introverted and shy. Instead, she found herself looking at a woman that was tired maybe, a little anxious certainly, and very much annoyed.
"I wish someone would fill me in on why we're here." Hermione muttered under her breath as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her new husband.
"Mrs. Malfoy, there was an explosion at your home a few days ago. We're here to figure out what caused that explosion. Your husband has agreed to show us his memory of the event so that we can determine who is liable for the damage."
"I didn't try to kill Harry and Draco. I'm pretty sure I've already been clear on that." She turned her glare first to Theo, then to Matilda.
Matilda wasn't ready for it. For the dark brown eyes that penetrated her mind and made a cold chill shiver it's way down her back. There was power behind those eyes. Even more power than her research had led her to believe.
"Let's see then, shall we? Mr. Malfoy?" She motioned towards the pensieve on her desk. Draco eyed it carefully for a moment before pointing his wand at his temple and producing a thin silver strand of memory that he maneuvered carefully into the stone bowl. He took Hermione's hand and pulled her gently into the memory. Healer Brunswick and Theo followed close behind them.
Hermione found herself standing in Draco's study, listening to Harry listing off all the reasons why it was obvious there had been a secret affair going on between her and Draco at Hogwarts. She watched herself enter the room and the conversation, yelling at Harry for sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. As she watched the memory, she noticed a change in the air pressure. A slight hum filled the room. She could tell that the rest of them noticed it as well. Theo and the Healer were looking for the source of the hum. Draco was merely looking at her.
When the vase exploded in his memory and the memory of herself didn't even flinch, she knew exactly what had happened. She knew she had lost control of her magic. She could feel it building in the air around them. The explosion still shocked her and she found herself ducking her head and screaming at the shock and intensity of the explosion.
The memory faded to black as Draco had lost consciousness.
When the four of them had regained their footing and their bearings, Hermione shot Draco another death glare before smacking his arm.
"You moron! Why didn't you protect yourself better? Put up a shield? Stupify me? Anything? You didn't even try to stop me! Or to warn me, or…or…or anything!"
The room was silent as Matilda and Theo watched the couple in the middle of the room. Hermione was torn between being horrified that she had lost control so thoroughly, and being angry with Draco for letting her and getting himself hurt in the process. Draco was trying to figure out how to answer her questions, questions he didn't quite have the answers for.
"It's quite obvious, isn't it?" Matilda sat down at her desk and motioned for them to sit as well. They remained standing.
"You wanted to know, too." Hermione nodded her head in understanding as she spoke those words. He wanted to know what had happened to her at the hands of Ronald Weasley. He didn't want to stop her, because then he may never get the answers to those questions. She sank down into the chair. He sighed deeply before sitting next to her and taking her hands in his.
"Of course I want to know, Hermione. I don't want to inadvertently say something or do something or suggest something that is going to remind you of him and make you uncomfortable."
She pulled her hands away from him and stood, walking at least five steps away from him before turning back around and facing him. Her eyes were narrowed, her arms were crossed, and she looked extremely annoyed.
"I'm not a damn china doll, Draco. You've seen it firsthand, or have you forgotten? I don't break that easily."
Draco felt like she had slapped him across the face. He had seen it first hand, more than once. First at the Manor, and again when he found her in the alley during the ball. He wanted to say something, anything to let her know that he would never forget either instance, but words failed him as he watched her pace the floor and run her fingers through her hair. All eyes were on her, and everyone in the room was well aware of the distinct crackle of uncontrolled magic in the air.
"You don't have to walk on eggshells around me. If you have questions to ask me, then ask." She stopped pacing and turned to stare out the window. The things she had to say were easier if she wasn't looking him in the eye.
"The truth is, there isn't much to tell. Ron turned out to be another bully, just like the rest of them. The first year was the worst because I fought it so hard. The second year was spent doing research. It was no worse than any other woman stuck in a marriage to a man she despises. The third year was really bad emotionally. After that, things changed. I felt more like hired help than anything else. He staged my disappearance and tried to forget that I was around at all. We barely saw each other, barely spoke. He never touched me again after that night at the ball. He started sleeping with Lavender and tried to forget that I even existed. For the most part he did a damn good job at it."
Draco was running through the timeline in his head, considering the things she was saying. He rubbed his hands across his face as he tried to pick out the more important details and put them all together.
By the time she had finished the anger had died down in her voice and she had regained control of her magic. The room was silent, almost too silent, for a long moment. Finally she turned to glare at Theo, who had leaned up against the door and was watching them silently.
"I didn't try to kill Draco or Harry. Can we go home now?"
Theo looked back and forth between Draco and Hermione several times before sighing deeply and stepping aside so they could leave.
"Oh, Mrs. Malfoy. There is still the matter of controlling your magic when you are angry. I'd like to see you in the office at least twice a week for the next few weeks to see what we can do about that, okay?"
Hermione nodded politely and walked out the door. Draco stopped long enough to thank Healer Brunswick for seeing them on such short notice, then he followed her into the hallway.
They stepped out of the fireplace into what used to be the study. There wasn't a whole lot left of it. The outside wall was missing. Furniture was tossed around. Books and papers lay in shreds on the floor. Hermione gasped when she saw the destruction she had caused.
"I'll get someone over this week to fix it up. I didn't realize they hadn't already done that." Draco led her through the debris and into the hallway where the floor was clear.
"Maybe you should leave it like that, you know? As a reminder not to piss me off." She smirked at him before heading upstairs to a nice long bath.
Hermione soaked in the pool-sized bathtub for almost an hour. She let the lavender and vanilla scent soak into her skin and she tried to relax, truly she did. But her brain wouldn't stop thinking about things that she simply didn't want to think about. Finally she decided she needed a distraction. She stepped out of the bathtub determined to find something to eat, then go to the library. She could always get distracted when she was surrounded by books.
She wrapped one towel around her hair before she dried the rest of her body with a second towel. She hadn't thought to bring clean clothes into the bathroom with her, so she picked up the green Slytherin t-shirt and slipped it back on. She inhaled deeply as she pulled it past her nose. It smelled like Draco. The thought put a smile on her face.
She towel dried her hair and brushed it out carefully. Once she had brushed it all out straight she reached for her wand so she could dry it.
Her wand was not on the counter.
Confused, she tried to remember the last time she had seen it. She hadn't had it at the hospital.
A noise from Draco's bedroom caught her attention and without thinking about what she was doing, she crossed the bathroom and opened the door into his room.
"Hey Draco, have you seen my wand? I didn't…" Her voice trailed off as her brain comprehended what her eyes were seeing.
Draco was standing at the end of his bed. His shirt, shoes and socks had been discarded on the floor next to him. His jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped. Pajamas were lying on the bed. He was obviously changing for bed. He had frozen, though, when she walked in, his hands still on the waistband of his jeans.
His pale chest nearly glittered in the lighting of the room. The dark mark on his arm stood out in stark relief. She found her eyes frozen to that spot, if only because it seemed to be the safest place to look. She had the sudden urge to cross the room and lick every inch of his chest. She had taken two steps closer before she realized that she was actually moving.
Then she noticed that Draco wasn't moving, or talking, or even breathing. She tried to catch his eye, but his eyes were busy. They were roaming across her body hungrily. That's when she remembered what she was wearing. His Slytherin shirt. And nothing else.
She glanced down at herself and nearly rolled her eyes. Here he was looking like sex on legs, and she was wearing an old t-shirt that didn't even fit her. When she lifted her head again, he had crossed the room and was standing right in front of her.
"Do you have any idea how hot you look in my Team Captain shirt?"
She felt her face burning and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to hide her smile. She shook her head back and forth and averted her eyes. He had to be wrong.
"I didn't mean to barge in like that. I should, umm, I should probably go." She stuttered out the words, but did not turn around to leave.
Draco, who was more experienced with sexual tension, smirked as he watched how flustered she was becoming. He watched her eyes as they darted across his chest, down past his waist, and then back up. He saw the exact moment when her eyes stopped, transfixed on something. Puzzled, he looked down to see what she was looking at and cursed at himself when he realized his dark mark was not concealed.
He immediately reached for his wand, but was stopped by her hand on his wrist.
"Don't." She spoke softly, but firmly. His gray eyes met hers and he found himself transfixed by the intensity he found there. "We all have scars from the war, Draco."
She slowly waved her hand across her left arm, wordlessly and wandlessly lifting the concealment charm to reveal the raised letters that would forever mark her flesh. Draco watched her every move. His eyes widened at the ugly scar on her arm. She had done an excellent job of keeping it hidden, to the point that he figured it had healed completely.
Without thinking, he reached for her arm. His fingertips glided over the letters as he vividly remembered how they had gotten there. His eyes returned to hers as he felt her fingertips on the faded Dark Mark on his own arm.
"The scars are part of who we are, Draco. They are reminders of what we've been through, but they don't define who we are. I already know your past, as much as you know mine. You don't have to hide it from me."
His eyes searched hers for a long moment. The tension in the room had changed from a pulsing sexual tension to something…more. Slowly he lifted his hand to her face, pushing her still damp hair out of the way and cupping her cheek in his hand. Then he leaned in and kissed her. Softly. Slowly. He tried to fit all of the emotion that he was feeling in that moment into that one kiss.
There was no hesitation on her part. She returned the kiss with the same emotion, though she couldn't put a name to it. All she knew for certain was that she was not close enough to him. She wanted to feel him against her, around her, inside her. She wanted to live in this moment forever. This moment, this one perfect moment, when two hearts realized that the one they had been searching for had been right there all along.
As the kiss escalated in intensity, Draco knew he would not be able to stop himself this time. When he felt Hermione's hands pushing his pants off of his waist, he knew he wouldn't have to. This was right. For both of them.
He kicked his pants off quickly, never breaking the kiss, before sweeping her into his arms and laying her on the bed. His hands glided under the hemline of her shirt, only to find that she was completely bare underneath. He groaned out loud as he lifted the shirt over her head and saw her lying naked beneath him for the first time.
He kissed her again, deeply, before moving his lips along her jaw, down her neck and across her collarbone. She moaned as his tongue circled her hardened nipple before pulling it into his mouth and sucking gently.
His fingers trailed a path down her stomach to her center, where he found her to be slick and ready for him. He pushed two fingers easily inside her, eliciting an immediate response. As he began to pump his fingers in and out, she began writhing on the bed beneath him. She was muttering nonsense, words he could barely understand as she bucked her hips into his hand.
He brought her right to the cusp of orgasm, so close she could almost taste it before he pulled his fingers out and positioned himself at her entrance. He pushed in slowly, deliberately as he covered her mouth with his and swallowed her groans of pleasure. He pulled out and pushed back in slowly a few more times without ever breaking the kiss.
Hermione had never felt this kind of passion, this kind of pleasure before. She wanted more. She needed more. She encouraged him to move faster, pushing her hips up to meet his over and over again until she was peaking, then falling. Her orgasm rushed over her, filling her with warmth and pleasure until she almost couldn't breathe. She clutched at Draco, her walls tightening around him, forcing him to release deep inside her.
They both collapsed to the bed, completely spent and drifted off to sleep before they could even cover themselves.
Draco's last thought before he drifted off was that he had had sex many times before, but what he just experienced was not merely sex. He didn't want to face his emotions, much less give a name to them, but he knew in his post-coital bliss that he had just made love to Hermione. And given the chance, he would do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and every day for the rest of their lives.