Warning: drama and fluff ensue.
xFivex
Hermione wakes up the next morning alone. She finds herself naked and cold, laying in her own bed, under her own sheets, feeling as though something-someone is missing. Draco. She sits up in the bed, surrounded by her pillows, and she clutches the sheets to her chest. She looks around the room to find it empty, the only sign of him having been here being the rustled sheets beside her and his plain white t-shirt lying on the ground near the door. She wonders briefly why he would leave his shirt behind, before realizing that he probably rushed out of here this morning so that he didn't have to deal with the consequences, with her. He was drunk after all; she wouldn't be surprised if he regrets it now. She blinks back tears as she crawls out of bed and fetches a fresh pair of knickers and a bra. She glances at the shirt on the floor, hesitating before she walks I've and picks it up, bringing it to her chest. It shouldn't hurt this much, she knows that. It shouldn't have hurt last night when she saw him with those girls either, but it did. She's in so far over her head that she can't get out now even if she wanted to.
She finds herself slipping the shirt on over her head before she even realizes what she's doing, before walking out of the bedroom and into the hall. Her stomach growls then and she realizes that she never did eat dinner yesterday, which meant that she hasn't eaten since lunch before that. Sighing softly to herself, she walks into the kitchen only to freeze in the doorway when she sees a head of blond hair. His bare back is facing her, his head down in front of the coffee maker beside the kitchen. She blinks in confusion to herself before clearing her throat loudly for his attention.
Draco turns around upon hearing his new company in the room, a smile already forming on his face when he sees what she's wearing. "Hey..."
"Hi. I um…I thought you left," she admits sheepishly.
"No, I was just...I was gonna make breakfast but then I realized that I don't actually know how to make it. But I figured out how to make coffee-that I can do. I left yours black though, I don't know what you take," he rambles, rubbing the back of his neck as a red tint creeps up onto his cheek.
She smiles, crossing her arms over her chest as she walks towards him. He hands her a mug, which she takes and sets back on the counter to prepare.
"Surprised?"
She smiles softly. "A little." She turns to him when she's done, takes a sip, and then continues to look at him over the rim of her mug.
"What?"
"How are you feeling?"
"Good. Better…"
"And um...have you-"
"Had anything other than coffee to drink?" He guesses. "No."
"How does that feel?" she asks curiously.
"I'm not exactly sure yet," he admits, taking a sip of his own coffee.
A soft rumbling sound comes from the fireplace in the living and suddenly Hermione remembers what day it is. Her eyes widen as she places her coffee on the counter.
"What?" Draco asks curiously.
"Stay here, don't move," she tells him sternly.
"O-Kay, but-"
"Just stay, please?"
He nods, leaning back against the counter. She leaves him there and walks into the living room just as Harry and Ron step out of the Floo.
"'Mione!" Harry exclaims.
"Hey, you're up," Ron smiles.
"Hey guys-"
"And not dressed…" the redhead notices awkwardly.
She looks down, suddenly very aware of the face that she doesn't have pants on. Draco's shirt is long enough on her that it covers her bum, but that's about it. "Yeah, sorry…"
"How are you feeling?" Harry asks her casually. He hands her her own bag with breakfast in it before taking a seat on her couch.
"Thanks... Look, guys-"
"I'm just gonna grab some water," Ron says as he makes his way to the kitchen.
"Wait! No, don't go in there," she exclaims in an attempt to stop him.
"Why not?" The redhead looks at her as though she's suddenly grown two more heads before walking around her and into the kitchen. He comes to a standstill when he realizes that the kitchen is already being occupied. "Hermione?"
"I can explain," she squeaks.
"Explain what?" Harry is standing behind her now, looking over both hers and Ron's shoulders. His eyes widen when he sees who else is in the kitchen. Draco smirks, looking between the two visitors.
"Well this is awkward," the blonde chuckles.
"Hermione why doesn't he have a shirt on?" Ron wonder aloud.
"I can explain," she repeats.
"What is he even doing here?" Harry asks.
"I can explain that to, just-"
"Truth is guys I'm not wearing a shirt because she's wearing it, and I'm here because I never left," Draco replies, smirking at the two men gawking at him.
"Draco, please.."
"Draco? Since when do you call him Draco?"
"Well, Weasel, it is my name."
"Draco!"
"What?" the blonde chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.
She groans inwardly, moving past Ron to stand between him and the blonde, who the redhead is currently glaring at. "Look, you guys, this isn't a good time-"
"You slept with him.. Didn't you?" Harry accuses.
"Excuse me-what?" Ron looks dumbfounded.
"Bravo Potter, at least one of you is observant…" Draco mutters under his breath.
"You slept with him? How could you do such a thing Hermione? With him of all people!" Ron explodes.
"Hang on! That's rather rude-"
"Shut up Ferret face, no one's talking to you!"
"Ron-" Hermione starts, but Draco cuts her off.
"You're talking about me, it's the same bloody thing-"
"STOP IT! Both of you just stop!" Hermione yells, sending the rest of the room into an awkward silence. "My God, it's like dealing with children every time the two of you are in the same room! Just stop it."
"He started it," Ron mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Hang on.. You really did sleep with him, didn't you?" Harry asks, getting back to the issue at hand.
"Yes, I slept with him. Not that it's any of your business, I'm an adult now and I can take care of myself," Hermione replies.
"We know that, it's just...it's-" Harry starts-
"Malfoy. For all we know he could've drugged you, or cursed you," Ron finishes hotly.
Within seconds Draco crosses the room and grabs the redhead by the collar of his shirt before slamming him against the fridge.
"Draco!" Hermione screams.
"Say it again Weasley. Say it to my face.," Draco growls, threatening him.
"You probably cursed her, why else would she shag you?" Ron spits.
Draco's fist connects with Ron's jaw faster than either of them can even blink. Hermione grabs the blonds arm before he has a chance to do it again, pulling him back with all the strength she can muster while Harry goes to Ron and helps him to his feet.
"Stop! Just stop it, please!" Hermione begs.
"He fucking deserves it!" Draco yells.
"It doesn't matter, just stop."
"He's got no right-"
"I have no right?" Ron snorts. "Correct me if I'm wrong Malfoy, but that mark on your arm, is that not the mark of the Voldemort?"
Hermione can feel the blonde flinch at the sound of the Dark Lords name, before he casts his gaze at the floor. "Stop it Ron."
"Look this is has gotten way off track. It doesn't matter what happened because what's done is done, what matters is why. Why, Hermione?" Harry presses.
"I...we just.." She looks back for Draco, as though looking for his help in explaining what had happened between them because even now she doesn't know. He's backing out of the kitchen when she sees him, avoiding her gaze. "Where are you going?"
"I have to go," he mutters.
"Wha-now?"
"Yes, now! Clearly...this was a mistake, so…"
"What? No, that's not...Draco-"
"You're ashamed Granger, I get it."
"I'm not-that isn't-"
"You can keep the shirt-or burn it, whatever. And you don't have to come around anymore," he tells her.
"Draco-"
Before she can even finish her though, he's gone, having apparated away from the middle of her living room. She blinks back the tears that are stinging her eyes, her back to her friends who standing rather awkwardly now in her kitchen.
"Well, now that he's gone-"
"Don't Ronald…" she mumbles.
"Look, Hermione-"
"Both of you just shut up!" She screams, tears trickling down her cheeks. "You really don't get it do you? I care about him, okay, a lot. And he cares about me. That's why I slept with him, that's why he slept with me. He didn't drug me, he didn't curse me, he didn't do anything to me, it was my decision. In fact, he told me to tell him to leave-I'm the one who wouldn't let him. And now...Merlin only knows what he's thinking-especially after you're little outburst about his arm. He hates that thing just as much we do-do you know how often I've caught him staring at it, like the only thing he wants to do it make it go away? Too often. He needs stability and I'm trying so hard to give that to him and the both of you are ruining it-"
Ron can't help the snort that betrays his silence. "You think that shagging him is gonna give him stability?"
She shakes her head sadly. "That's not...you don't understand Ron. It just happened okay? He came over after you left last night and we talked and…it just happened. It's completely different."
"We're just...we don't want you to get hurt," Harry says softly.
"I know," she sighs. "But it's my decision. If I get hurt then it's my own fault... I'm a big girl now; I can take care of myself. I don't need you guys to protect me all the time."
"Easier said than done Mione," the redhead mutters under his breathe.
"I know... And I know that you don't like or trust him but I do...can't that be enough for you to at least give him a chance? He'll never ask you on his own, but he needs it."
Harry nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets awkwardly. "I guess...all we can do is try."
Hermione nods silently to herself, smiling sadly. "You know...he didn't even try to find a beer or anything alcoholic this morning. That's a step, right?"
"Yeah well after what just happened he's probably gone to find some." Both Harry and Hermione glare at the redhead who shrugs. "I'm sorry, but c'mon…"
"I'm gonna go change and then I'm gonna go look for him, you guys can stay here if you want?"
"When was the last time you ate?" Harry asks, looking her up and down wearily. He knows for a fact that she didn't eat dinner last night.
"I'll grab something to eat, don't worry."
X
Hermione isn't at all surprised to find Draco's flat empty. This time however, she doesn't panic as a result. Because somehow she knows exactly where he is. And so she apparates to the gates surrounding Malfoy Manor to find the gate open, the chains that had held it closed only months ago have been broken and the 'Sold' and 'No Trespassing' signs hanging awkwardly on the sides. She stares up at the mansion, hesitating as the memories of her 'stay' here come rushing back to her. She remembers the Snatchers and the looks on Bellatrix's and Lucius' faces when they saw her, Harry and Ron. She remembers the dangerous glint in the woman's eyes when she saw the sword. She remembers being alone with her, being tortured and abused. Her arm stings at the memory and she brings her arm up, rolling up her sleeve to reveal the scars left behind: Mudblood.
She almost doesn't go in. She almost turns around and runs away. But then she thinks of Draco and the fact that he's in there and he's alone and probably drunk, and he's got far worse memories than her. So she swallows her fear like the Gryffindor she is and she begins the long walk towards the mansion.
Even now, when the house has been empty for months, she feels an eerie sort of darkness in her bones as she walks inside. For the second time she almost runs away but her courage and stubbornness push her forward. She walks through the mansion, more afraid now than she was the last time she was here..
She finds him in the sitting room-THAT room. He's sitting in a chair next the fire place, leaning forward with his head resting on his left hand and a bottle of whiskey in his other, limp at his side. She walks forward, keeping her eyes on him and not on the spot in the middle of the room where she was brutally tortured. If he hears her, he doesn't acknowledge her. She sits in the chair directly opposite him, also leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands clasped under her chin. "Draco…"
"You shouldn't be here. I told you not to come," he mumbles. His words are slurred and broken as he speaks to her but he doesn't look at her.
"You had to know I would."
"You needa stop this.." he slurs. "You can't save me Granger."
"But I can try, can't I?"
He sighs, leaning back in his chair and finally he looks at her. She smiles softly at him and then he casts his gaze to THAT spot. That spot where he watched his Aunt torture her while he did nothing. Immense guilt consumes him. "You should hate me."
"Draco we've had this conversation before, I don't hate you," she whispers softly.
"But you should! I watched her...I stood there and I watched!" His voice is louder, but still broken. "I couldn't even...I couldn't stop her. And that Muggle Studies teacher, she was in the dungeons for months...I could've let her go but...I was scared. I was a bloody fucking coward... He's right-I don't have a right to anything."
She finds herself kneeling in front of him, placing her right hand in his as she uses her left to tilt his face towards hers, to get his attention. "You do have a right. You have just as much a right as any of us-"
"No I don't."
"Yes, you do." She insists. "You were a victim, just like us. You were hurt too. And you were found innocent because you didn't do anything wrong."
"I didn't do anything right either…" he mutters, glancing down at his hands.
"You did, Draco. You denied that Harry was who he was. You didn't fight nearly as hard as you could've to keep him from getting our wands back," she reminds him. She pulls him down, pressing her forehead against his. His eyes are dull, dark, clouded over with despair and hatred-self-hatred. Just when she thinks she's settled him down he shrugs her off of him and pushes himself to his feet. He takes a long swig of the whiskey straight out of the bottle before stumbling towards the other side of the room to a window that overlooks the Malfoy grounds-his mother's garden. She sighs, following him, subconsciously stepping around the area where she had laid, only half conscious on the floor, sliding up beside him. She too looks out the window, at the dying shrubs and decaying plants. She imagines it was much more beautiful at its prime.
"He never even asked me."
"Who?"
"My father. He never even asked me if I wanted it, he just assumed that because he had it that I...wanted it," he admits. He's never told anybody that.
"Did you?"
"No. I mean when I was young, sure. But I didn't understand what it meant... I didn't understand anything. He never even gave me a fucking choice. He worshipped the ground that...that coward walked on so much that he couldn't even…love me-his own bloody son," he spits, his voice still quite slurred.
She watches him intently, lifting his left arm to examine the black tattoo. He watches her as she looks at it for a moment before looking back out the window. "My mother, she was the only person who cared. She was the only person who loved me. She begged him not to make me take it...said I was too young and I wasn't ready. She was just trying to save me and...he threw her down the stairs. And yet he refused to let her take it...because in some fucked up, twisted way, he loved her."
"I'm so sorry Draco..." she whispers.
He turns to her, pulling his arm out of her grasp before slipping it around her waist and pulling her against him. She looks up at him with wide, curious eyes. "I don't wanna be like him…"
"You won't be," she assures his confidently.
"What if I already am?"
"You're not. I know you're not."
He kisses her then, and it's hard and desperate and hungry. And even though he tastes like whiskey and she's pretty sure she could get drunk off his taste alone, she kisses back. "I need you Granger. You really shouldn't stay, but I need you to."
"You know I will."
"You're in my head.. You're all I think about," he admits, kissing her again, pushing her against the wall beside the window. "I ruined my sobriety streak. I think I lasted all of two hours."
She shakes her head, silently telling him that it no longer matters. "It's a start though, right?"
He nods, dipping his head into the crook of her neck. "Take me home Granger."
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