Chapter Sixteen
Everything I feel
"The most dangerous lover is one who greets pain with a smile" R.M Drake
Things changed again after that, just gradually to begin with and then dramatically as I felt my world begin to tip and everything started to speed up. I felt like a child who had started to run down a hill not realising it was far too steep for her and as a result was unable to stop.
Whatever had been going on between Malfoy and I seemed to continue but our previous relationship of arguing and becoming irritated with each other over the most innocuous things returned tenfold as the stress and pressure began to eat away at him more and more.
As spring set in completely and the weather slowly got warmer; Malfoy declined quickly. I watched as the circles under his eyes became darker, his clothes began to hang off his rapidly thinning frame and his beautiful blonde hair became lank and dull. I knew he was closer and closer to the breakdown that would allow him to finally snap; the shreds of his sanity that he was clinging onto would break and unleash a torment beyond my reckoning and one that I was far too inexperienced to handle. The brightest witch in my year and I would not be able to stop him from snapping.
My own grades steadily improved over the next month; the only thing preoccupying me was Malfoy and since I had ignored everything else suddenly homework began to distract me the way it always had. It became a welcome relief.
Sometimes when I knew Malfoy was in the Common room and away from me, I found I could sit in the library for hours contentedly writing essays and reading books in preparation for the exams.
I watched Ron and Harry stress and more than once took great pleasure in hearing them mix up which events took place on what dates in History of Magic. I was glad that for this year, I wouldn't be bailing them out of anything.
Malfoy and I saw each other occasionally; usually nothing more than a fleeting word or two in abandoned classrooms and empty stairwells. More than once I had thought he would kiss me as he brushed hair from my face and moved until I was practically pressed between him and the wall but every time he would sigh and move away. It always signaled an end to the brief conversation and he had kept any intimacy between us restricted to touching my face softly before pulling away suddenly.
He became more erratic every time I saw him; sometimes babbling incoherently and other times completely disorientated. I wondered when the last time he slept had been. I watched during meal times as Pansy desperately tried to make him eat more than a few mouthfuls; her eyes glistening with tears.
He would say something harsh to her push his plate away and leave quickly, sometimes with Blaise following but more and more often, without. It had to change; Malfoy would either snap or he would succeed with the cabinet. Either way, everything would change irrevocably.
The change came on a typical Thursday night, right in the middle of the exams. It had been six weeks since Malfoy had been released from the hospital wing, six weeks of calm; a brewing calm that held promise of further battles to come.
The owl had tapped on the window urgently sometime after two in the morning and Parvati and gotten up, thoroughly irritated at being wakened and let it in.
"Hermione", she said angrily, "It's for you".
Bleary eyed, I removed myself from my bed and untied the note. The owl hooted once and flew back into the night, obviously not requiring a response.
"I have an exam tomorrow", said Parvati. "It isn't fair for me to be wakened like this".
"I hardly told the owl to come now did I?" I retorted closing the window before tearing the note open hastily.
Parvati grumbled something unintelligible and then turned on her heel and went back to bed; falling asleep again immediately when her head hit the pillow.
I stared down at the note.
Astronomy tower now.
I couldn't mistake the scrawl and the blotches covering the small scrap of parchment that had so clearly been torn from a book told me it had been written in a hurry.
I pulled my dressing gown on over my thin nightgown, keeping my feet bare as I liked to do and left immediately; something had happened and whether good or bad I would soon find out.
I narrowly avoided Peeves who was happily singing to himself along the corridor just down from the Fat Lady (who had reproved someone called Doris in her half conscious state).
The steps leading to the Astronomy tower seemed to have become steeper in the time I had spent away from there. It took me an age to reach the top and when I did my heart was pounding quickly in my nervous state.
I kept imagining what he would look like now his breakdown had come because that was surely the problem. I expected him to look wild and clearly insane; perhaps he would be aggressive and confused; perhaps he didn't even remember sending me that note.
What I found instead instantly calmed my beating heart but also send a cold chill into my blood and straight to my heart.
He was leaning against the window ledge, his elbows resting on it, staring out into the night sky. His hair was immaculately blonde, not the lank, dull look I had come to recognise, moving softly in the light breeze. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, the first informal clothes I had ever seen him wear. He was still thinner than he had been but even that looked less noticeable now.
I let out an audible breath and he turned to face me. The dark circles were there but they were less prominent, he looked relaxed, rested and his eyes took in my frazzled state with a hint of amusement.
"You look like shit", he said, smirking the first genuine one I had seen in what felt like years.
I bristled, "Thanks, well...for the first time in six weeks you look normal".
His smirk fell, "I finished it".
The air suddenly stilled around us as I digested his words.
Rather than speak, I moved closer, close enough to see that he looked like his old self.
"Right after I finished it", he whispered his eyes dropping to the floor. "I had a shower and immediately fell asleep".
"What happens now?"
"I have to tell them that it's done".
"You can still go to Dumbledore", I said the words tonelessly and hopelessly knowing that he would say no. I leaned against the window ledge my back to the darkness outside and stared back into the cold room; anything to avoid looking at him.
"This isn't the time or the place for a hero. I'm not a hero".
"I'm not asking you to be", I breathed. "I'm asking you not to kill him; I'm asking you not to hurt Dumbledore".
The silence stretched between us; widening the gulf that had begun to consume whatever friendship or relationship we might have had.
Then he broke it by saying the words I knew had always been in him. In six simple words he bridged the ever-widening gap between us.
"I don't want to do it".
His voice cracked slightly but he maintained his composure; a Malfoy to the bitter end.
"It's one thing to have a superiority complex when it comes to blood supremacy; it's another to take away the life of one who has always believed in me".
I turned to him, moving to stand between his legs and taking his face in my hands.
"Then don't, there must be another way", I whispered, staring hard into those cold, grey eyes that held so much pain; that had seen so much cruelty and misery in their short life.
"There isn't, I can't see another way. I've come so far now I can't turn back".
"How many are coming?"
"Three I think, maybe four. I promise there isn't going to be a battle, I'm to kill him and leave with them; that's it".
"You cannot be this naive".
"I have to be or I won't go through with it and then my mother will die, swiftly followed by me".
"Then it is my death warrant you are signing; and any other muggle borns in this school". I let go of his face and made to move away but he grabbed my hips and pulled me to him staring deep into my cynical eyes.
"I won't let that happen. I swear it. You'll be safe if you stay in the Gryffindor tower".
"What if I refuse to stay there? What if I come out to find you?"
"Please don't. It will be in the middle of the night, nobody will get hurt and you won't follow me".
"When?"
"That depends on you".
"What?"
He moved away from me now, rubbing his hands through his hair as if what he was about to say caused him stress.
"I need you to make up with Potter".
"What? But..."
"No, you can't argue with me on this one. You are going to need his protection and then protection of the Order soon enough and Potter is your safest bet".
"But Ron..."
"I'm not asking you to make up with or even speak to Weasel, I'm asking you to make up with the only person who has a shot in hell of getting you through this".
"You said there wouldn't be a battle".
"There won't be, I'm sure of it but this isn't about what is going on now; this is about what is going to happen in the future. Potter is an ally you are going to need".
He watched me carefully as I processed his words; knowing all the while that he was right. The struggle, the war even, began with Harry and it would end with him too. I knew he had been having secret meetings with Dumbledore but given our strained relationship over the past few months and our lack of contact since his attack on Malfoy, excepting the first two or three meetings I had had no idea how they had developed.
I acquiesced most reluctantly but the second I nodded my head Malfoy visibly relaxed.
"Potter doesn't want to lose you as a friend again so as soon as things are put to rights between you and you're sure you can count on his protection; then I can...proceed".
He coughed awkwardly and I fought the insane urge to giggle.
"This started over a bloody rumour", I eventually half-laughed. "A stupid rumour and we ended up so tangled in each other's mess that sometimes I wish I could go back to those stupid, angst fueled days. My anxiety was minuscule compared to now".
Malfoy gave me a small half smile before shrugging, "That was all I wanted to tell you, nothing will happen until everything is sorted".
I didn't answer but he wasn't quite finished. "This will change everything won't it?"
"Well, yes".
"Will...will me killing...will it change your feelings for me?" He whispered, staring hard at me.
"I don't know", I could only answer honestly. "I don't know how I'll feel about you when it's all over".
"You still have the chance to rat me out", he said smiling sadly.
"I'm not a rat", I replied. "Something is stopping me from telling anyone", I admitted slowly. "Perhaps it's the hope that somehow you won't do it or that something will happen to stop any of this from going ahead but...something is preventing me from telling. My heart keeps telling me not to give up on you".
"To that, I have no response", he sighed. "I feel like I'm fighting a battle I know I'm going to lose and when I say those two deadly words; I'm going to lose you forever".
"Do you want to know how I feel about you now, in this moment?" I said calmly.
He shook his head, "Don't make this harder for me than it is. Don't tell me how you feel".
"Alright, I won't tell you", I unfastened my dressing gown and let it drop to the floor. "I'll show you".
He breathed in sharply as his eyes roamed over my thin nightgown, seeing everything. My nipples hardening at the exposure to the cold night air, the flush creeping up from my breasts to my cheeks as his gaze heightened my arousal; all of it was for him.
"Make love to me Draco", his given name felt so right on my tongue as I whispered the words huskily; my core already wet with desire.
He moved quickly towards me, his own desire evident, and pulled me into his arms roughly.
"Gladly", he whispered before crashing his lips upon mine.