A/N: I am not putting any specific content warning in this chapter because I don't want to spoil anything, but if you are feeling squeamish or nervous, please just... there is some heavy stuff in this one so if you're not in the mood, wait and if you have any questions, feel free to message me and I'll do the best I can to give you any heads up.
Soundtrack- "Paradise Lost" by Hollywood Undead and "Silhouette" by Aquilo
TWELVE
.
Granger sat on the floor at his side, back against the drawers of his desk and knees pulled up, propping open her book of the evening. The chain hung heavily from her wrist as she lifted her hand to turn the page. She didn't even seem to notice its gentle clinking, but Draco felt the tug of it from the handle wrapped around his right wrist.
Draco twisted it tighter.
If he were a better man, he would let her go. Granger was smart, capable, and might even stand a chance on her own, for a little while at least. Longer, if he was with her.
But if he went out there with her, he'd have to share her with Potter. And Weasley.
She belonged with him. To him. Only him.
He couldn't let her go.
Even if she begged.
He spent plenty of nights, right here behind his desk, gripping himself tightly and thinking about how her eyes would burned like cinnamon as she looked up at him and so beautifully begged for him to touch her, fuck her. How badly he needed to hear it again as he bent her over his knee and beat her little ass red only to have her thank him with sweet tears in her eyes.
He'd wipe them away and let her suck the wetness off his fingers.
Then he'd let her suck his cock, to show her he'd forgiven her. Run his hands through her thick, twisting curls and tell her how good she was doing, how much she was pleasing him.
She'd only stop to softly ask if she was allowed to swallow. Sometimes he let her. Sometimes he came all over her face and tits, watching his come drop thickly from her chin as she played with herself for his amusement until he was ready for her again.
But lately, Draco had been doing this instead- leashing her up and bringing her into his study with him.
He would walk behind her, letting her pick out whatever book she wanted to read and then had her settle in behind his desk with him while he worked.
At least this was on the nights his work didn't take him down into the cellar. Draco didn't think the old man could survive another round and he wasn't keen on baring the punishment for him any more than he had to, but Draco had to show some sort of proof of his efforts, so he had gotten creative.
Aguamenti mixed with Levicorpus proved to be rather effective against the wand maker and when the Dark Lord returned, he was pleased with the cooperation Draco had instilled in his honored guest.
So pleased that the Dark Lord granted him another ward.
Lovegood.
Fucking Looney Lovegood was now in his care.
He didn't have the stomach to torture her. There was dirt smeared on her face, making her opalescent blue eyes stand out even more and even though she was shivering and skinny as fuck, she smiled at him.
"Hello, Draco."
Not Malfoy. Draco.
"Shut the fuck up."
It was all he said to her. Before he left her down in the cellar and pretended like she didn't exist.
It could easily have been Granger locked up and waiting to be tortured. If he hadn't gotten to her first. And it still could be if he blew his cover.
He couldn't save everyone, but he could save her.
"Granger."
She looked up at him with her big doe eyes and for a moment she forgot to hate him. They looked as soft and warm as melted chocolate.
He had no idea why he had said her name except, well, he wanted to talk to her.
"How's the book?"
The softness in her face changed into wariness. "Fine."
"You like…" He lifted the spine from her knees to read the title. "Wicked Warlocks of the-"
His throat closed around the words.
Granger tucked her hair behind her ears and looked back down at the yellowing pages in front of her. She bit her lip, indenting the soft, pink flesh.
He had half a mind to pull on the chain and haul her up into his lap and slam his mouth on hers. Tear the lace covering her chest and grab her tits, shoving them together and pinching her nipples until she gasped and he could snake his tongue into her mouth to swallow her sweet, muffled moans of "Draco!"
"Draco!"
He jumped at her sharp tone and his spine stiffened at the sight of her big brown eyes widening in worry.
Fuck, how did she always looks so fucking hot?
"Your arm!"
Draco looked down at his arm. His left arm. The mark there was burning a deep bruised red as the snake writhed over the blue veins running under it.
Shit. He had been so consumed by the thought of Granger grinding on his dick while he bit at her tits that he hadn't even felt it.
He barely felt it now. More of a muscle ache than the corrosive, bone-eating agony his Master normally used to call him.
Huh.
Well that wasn't normal.
"Oh my god, doesn't it hurt?" she asked, her voice lifting up an octave as she knelt beside him, book discarded on the floor and eyes locked onto the twisting brand on his arm.
Yes. Yes it fucking hurt to have her so close to him and not even be able to touch her. Not being able to tilt her chin up so those eyes were on his, burning into him like he craved so badly it felt like the scorched ruin of his heart was about to ignite again.
"I'll be okay."
She looked up at him and fucking hell, she bit that lip again. Draco's dick twitched in his trousers.
He stood up.
"Have to cut the evening short, kitten."
Hermione, no Granger, picked up her book and awkwardly got to her feet, chain trailing in too large space between them.
"You-" she paused. Please don't bite your lip again, Sweetheart, or I swear on Salazar's watery grave I will fuck you right here. "Do you have to put me back in the room? You could let me stay in here."
The charred hole in his chest ached. Such a simple request and he still had to deny her.
"Can't. It's not safe out here for you. Not without me."
Granger's cute little cheeks flushed red and Draco tightened his grip on the handle of the chain, letting the cold metal bite into his palm. The pain was a distraction. He had never needed one more because she was tossing her tawny curls back over her shoulder, letting them fall like ribbons of caramel and now they weren't covering her tits and holy fucking shit- he could see the pink outline of her nipples through this dress.
"Get back in," Draco said, hearing the hoarseness in his own voice as he pulled on the chain, opening his bedroom door for her. He needed to go. The ache in his arm was thudding against the dull numbness of his skin. His Master wanted him.
"Report to the Ministry." Draco suppressed a shiver, never having grown used to hearing that high pitched hiss echo in his head.
Granger stopped at the threshold and turned back towards him. "This isn't fair. You said I could stay in the study tonight."
"Granger-"
"You promised."
He had. He had promised her so much. That he would take care of her, treat her right. That he wouldn't hurt her anymore.
And all he had done since she got here was cause her pain. He could see it in every longing look she gave him, every quiver of her voice. He was torturing her with this life.
He could try to trust her again. Give her a bit more freedom and see if that made her happier.
And if he were a better man, he would.
But Granger was his. His girl. His heart. He wasn't letting her end up in anyone else's chains, but his own.
Draco pulled on the links, dragging her further in. "I know, but-"
"I was good! I…"
Draco turned. His heart thumping hard in his chest as she pulled back on the chain. He yanked it forward, making her stumble into the side of the bed as he latched it back in place around one of the posts.
"Draco, no!" she cried out, fiery spirit sparking up in her again. "You said I would always have an out if I wanted it."
He stopped, hands hovering over the iron links. Another promise, and one he hadn't technically broken. He half thought she would have figured it out by now.
He tossed the chain onto the bed behind her. "You know how to get out."
Granger marched up to him, making it strain. "I am not sleeping with you."
"That wasn't what I was talking about, but thanks for the reminder," he snarled.
Is that all she thought he wanted from her? Bitch.
She pulled on the chain, shoving the cuff around her wrist up into his face. "Take it off. Or tell me the passphrase."
So bold, so beautiful. Her eyes were burning with hatred, but at least they were burning. Just like him.
Draco smirked coldly down at her. "You're smart, you figure it out."
He picked up his mask from beside her diamonds on the bureau and slipped it over his face, the metal cooling the heated blood under his skin.
.
The dark panels sped past her as Hermione ran down the hall. She now knew it as the one that led to the staircase which would lead her downstairs and then out.
She had been going over her mental map of the Manor all night and now she was here, bare feet pounding into the carpet so thick that they barely made a sound as she tore down the long hall. How long had she been running? Surely she should have reached the staircase by now?
The doubt didn't stop her. What was her other option? Going back? She couldn't. She wouldn't.
Hermione was still running when she heard the screaming start. It was distant, but growing louder with each footfall.
Finally, when her chest was heaving, she came to the top of the stairs. He was howling, crying out in utter agony and Hermione's heart thundered in her chest. She quickly started down the stairs, letting momentum carry her as feet moved faster and faster.
She was almost at the bottom when she stumbled and fell, hitting the last three steps and ripping the silk slip. Hermione gathered her legs under her, already feeling where she would find bruises in the morning, and pushed her hair out of her face as she started forward again.
The screams were echoing through the expansive mansion, bouncing off the long walls and high ceiling. Hermione didn't even stop to think before she took off towards them again, ignoring the large front doors in the other direction.
"Hermione!"
She followed his voice to the set of doors Draco had closed as he took her through the Manor and pushed against the one slightly cracked open. Hermione burst into the room and skipped to a stop, her torn skirt tangled around her thighs.
Draco was lying prostrate on the floor, blood leaking from his mouth as he weakly lifted his head. "H-Her-"
There was a Death Eater standing over him, a dark wand pointed directly at Draco.
She knew that wand. She had held that wand and felt it's magic working for her. It was his hawthorne. Hermione lifted her eyes from Draco's pale face to stare into the metal mask of the Death Eater.
Silver eyes gleamed back at her, shining brighter as he held her gaze and pointed his wand at the Draco on the floor.
"Crucio."
Hermione woke with a start, swallowing large panicked breaths, and wiped a faint sheen of moisture off her forehead.
The moon was shining in from the windows, lighting up the dark room in a pale, haunting glow.
Crookshanks blinked slowly at her from his position curled tight on Draco's back. Draco himself was laying face down, just like he had been in her dream. Except now he was sprawled out on the velvet chaise, the fur blanket draped over his waist and his arm hanging off the side, trailing on the floor.
No wand in his hand, no mask on his face.
Hermione sat, stomach curling with anticipation inside her, as she waited for something, anything, to happen.
Nothing did. Crookshanks settled back down, flicking his tail lazily. Draco was asleep. He wasn't being tortured, he wasn't screaming. He was safe; he was here. And that knowledge comforted her.
Hermione quietly got up from the bed. She walked over to the chaise and gazed down at Draco for a moment. So still and quiet in his slumber. How could this be the same person who turned his wand into a weapon of terror? How could this be the same face hiding behind a Death Eater's mask?
She knew what kind of man Draco really was, but… did he?
Hermione was crouching down next to him before she realized what she was doing. She brushed a bit of his white blond hair back from his face, letting her fingers trace his hairline, down to his ear, and then along his jaw.
Draco took a shuddering breath and held it. Hermione pulled back quickly, worried that she had woken him, but Draco just nuzzled his face into the velvet and let the breath out low and slow.
Hermione sat down, leaning back against the chaise and tilted her head to look at Draco again. Although she hadn't actually been running, she still felt worn from her dream. Nightmare. Whatever it was.
Her heart thumped hard in her chest, but this time, it was because of Draco. It was for Draco. And if she was being really honest with herself, it had always been for Draco.
Even when he imperiused her. When he left her. When he ran her down in the woods and chained her to his bed and tormented her. None of that had been enough to make her stop loving him. And if that wasn't enough, would anything ever be?
Slowly her lids closed back over her eyes and although Hermione was sitting on the floor, head falling back against his arm, she slept more soundly than she had in weeks.
She woke up to Draco placing her back in the bed.
"W-what's going on?" she asked, sleep still muddling her mind.
"Hush," Draco said softly and tucked the blankets in around her.
"Wait-" Hermione reached out as he turned to go. Her hand closed over his wrist. Draco looked down at it then back up at her, reticent.
"Granger," he said carefully, "you're touching me."
Hermione didn't let go. "Where are you going?"
"I have work to do."
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
Leave. Go. Stay. Do this.
Hermione blinked, clearing a little of the fog hanging in her head and saw that the Malfoy ring was still missing from his hand.
"Don't hurt anyone," Hermione finished.
Draco pulled her fingers from around his wrist. "I won't hurt you, Granger," he said, voice heavy with emotion. "That's the best I can do."
.
"You're leaving your side open again," Draco said drolly, shooting a jinx at Theo's undefended right side.
"Who cares?" He doubled over as it hit him, grinning widely and breathing heavily. "That's where you'll be anyways."
Draco rolled his eyes.
"We can't afford any mistakes." He aimed another jinx and Theo deflected it. Draco watched the movement, a bit too stiff. A better dueler would be able to dodge it and use that fraction of a second to send a curse back instead of casting a protection charm.
Draco pointed his wand down. "Move your feet, Theo!"
"Stop acting like you're in charge here," Theo grumbled.
"It's my mission, they're my wolves-"
"And when's the last time you even bothered to come hunting with us, huh?" Theo aimed a spell at Draco who twisted, letting it slide past him easily.
Draco turned back and raised a brow. "I've had things to do."
"Yeah, you're a big shot now," Theo mocked and Draco flicked a hex at him, hitting Theo's hand and making him drop his wand. When he bent down to retrieve it, Draco sent it skittering a few feet away.
Theo glared at him and stiffly walked over to it, just for Draco to do it again.
"Quit it!"
Draco laughed as Theo snatched it up, grumbling under his breath as they returned to the white training circle.
"A girl?" Theo asked and Draco fell behind his white walls in surprise. "The last time you got this 'busy' it was because of your mystery girl."
"I don't have a mystery girl."
"So, just a whore then?"
Draco gripped the handle of his wand, feeling the curse he wanted to send at Theo beginning to brew inside him.
"Shut your goddamn mouth and get in position, Theo."
"Blaise said he hasn't seen you either." he went on, unaware that Draco was three seconds away from throwing a real curse at him. "Said he didn't want to either. You two break up or something?"
"Blaise can go fuck himself."
Theo chuckled and Draco felt a strange coldness dripping down inside him. Theo and Blaise were hanging out? Without him?
Fuck them both then.
"Maybe you should try it," Theo offered. "Get fucked and you might actually be fun to be around again."
"Like you're a pleasure these days," Draco said, voice dripping in sarcasm.
Theo took up a defensive stance, begrudgingly. Since the night at McLaggen's Theo had been distracted. He was maniacal; wild and uncontrollable. It unsettled Draco so he had started training with Theo, pawning it off as practice for the both of them, but really just trying to get Theo to pay attention to the world around him and not whatever was going on inside his head.
They traded jabs and jinxes for a while, Theo brushing off the hits Draco got in and doing a little better by the end. Still, he seemed to just not care. Like it was a game to him. Like they were only playing at war instead of fighting in one.
But that was always Theo. Nothing ever seemed to stick to him. He was so… full of life. And Draco felt like he was choking on death.
"Fuck!" Draco gasped, feeling like he had just been punched in the gut.
Theo let out a boisterous laugh. Draco's eyes cut up to him, but… Theo was laughing so hard, tears leaking out of the sides of his eyes, that Draco found himself joining in once he got his air back.
He had never really considered Theo much of a friend, but maybe he was now. He certainly spent more time with Theo than anyone else. Unless he counted Granger and the orange furball.
Draco had a lot in common with Theo- both were sons of wealthy Purebloods, raised together, left school early, and both now both Death Eaters working side by side. They'd probably be working together for the rest of their lives. Maybe it was time to admit that Theo wasn't as big of a dick as he always said he was.
Theo walked over, clasping Draco on the shoulder and helping him stand up straight again.
Draco looked down at him, the happy expression plastered all over his face. Just like it had been the time Theo had said Granger had a prime pussy.
Draco threw his fist into Theo's stomach, causing him to bend over, gasping, just as Draco had just been.
Theo was coughing violently and Draco pulled him up the collar of his shirt, snarling into his face.
"Never give aid to your opponent."
"Fuck you!" Theo wheezed.
Draco released him, standing him back up. "You'll thank me when it saves your life someday. Now get back over there, let's go again."
.
Hermione focused all her energy on the handle of Draco's bedroom door. She could feel her magic brushing up against his, pressing into the magical wards. They were strong- very strong. Complex and designed to make anyone who didn't know the ornate composition absolutely unable to break through. But Hermione had watched Draco for months now and moved her hand in the same repetitious pattern that Draco twisted his wand in.
It felt like dancing.
On the edge of a knife.
She had no idea if he had cursed it or not. She liked to think he wouldn't do that to her, but… it was hard to imagine there wasn't anything Draco wouldn't do to keep her here.
She wondered what he would do when he got back and found her missing. Hermione shuddered at the thought and pulled the grey jumper he had left on the chaise around her tighter before returning back to the handle.
Fiftieth time was the charm, right?
Oh goodness.
It was.
Hermione's mouth dropped open as the door clicked and the handle gave under her hand, turning slightly so she could open it.
She could open it. She could. So why was she still standing here?
Draco. That's why.
He had said he would never let her go. There was no convincing him, no explaining to him the error or his ways. He would never see what he was doing as wrong, not as long as she was with him.
And that is exactly why she had to do this. At least, that is what she was telling herself.
Hermione opened the door.
The study seemed larger without him in it and Hermione suddenly felt out of breath at the prospect of being in here alone. And even more so with the idea of being out there alone.
She glanced back at the unmade bed, the ever growing stack of books, and… Crookshanks.
He meowed loudly from the chaise.
"I love you." Her throat closed a little around the words. "Be good for him."
Hermione turned away before her eyes filled with tears. Saying goodbye this time wasn't any easier than the last, but she had to.
Crookshanks would be okay here. Draco wouldn't let anything happen to him. Draco growled at him plenty of times, but Hermione also saw him scratching Crookshanks' ears whenever he walked past him. Draco cared about her cat. His cat.
Their cat.
She closed the door before Crookshanks could follow her.
Resting her back against it for a few seconds, Hermione then forced herself forward. The large hippogriff head hanging over the fireplace seemed to be coming out of the wall to attack her with it's curved break. Draco had told her it was a gift from his Father. She didn't have to ask when he came home to find it mounted over his fireplace.
How easy it would be to just throw floo powder in the flames burning there and be somewhere else in a flash. But Hermione had nowhere to go. Most homes were locked down, no longer accessible by floo and places that were still connected were unsafe for her. She couldn't exactly appear in the middle of the Ministry and hope to get out again. No, she would have to take her chances on foot with whatever was laying in wait out there for her.
Hermione glanced back up at the hippogriff. The feathers were a deep, ruddy brown, still, the image of it made her remember the events of her third year. Draco, bleeding on the ground in the middle of the clearing. Ron treating her like scum when Scabbers went missing. And Harry running through the woods with Buckbeak in tow. She had been terrified when he took off after Sirius and had tried to keep up, but lost him in the dark trees. How was she possibly going to find him now?
Draco was right about her though, she was smart. She figured out how to get out of his room and she would figure out how to get back to Harry too. Maybe once they were together, they could try and find Ron. If they were all going to die, they might as well do it together. Although she still wished Draco would be at her side as well.
But Draco already had a side, and it wasn't hers.
She moved forward, collecting the items she had spotted on her evenings in here with Draco. The Hand of Glory for light, a goblin wrought dagger for protection, and a golden astrolabe so she could…
The dark red leather book caught her eye, the one Draco was always reading, always writing in- "The Sacred Twenty-Eight".
Hermione bit her lip and glanced at the double doors then back to the book on his desk. Draco would surely be gone for hours more. She could have a quick peek, right? Just to see what he was working on? Hermione justified it to herself as reconnaissance.
She had been in a Death Eater's house for months and barely gathered any information she would be able to use against Voldemort in the future.
Setting the items down, she picked up the book and quickly flipped through it, letting the light of the fire guide her eyes across the page.
Fine, black ink covered the margins and the blank spaces at the end of each family's chapter. She was barely able to read the names she knew so well with her mind racing and adrenaline coursing through her veins, but then something caught her eye as she neared the end of the book.
Hermione saw her name. Over and over, Grangers stretching back fifty, a hundred, over two hundred years. Her entire family tree laid out in the extra pages of the back, as if hers was the twenty ninth family. She hungrily read it over, decoding Draco's small script.
He was researching her. The last entry was 'Tobias Grainger - 1758' then in thick, angry letters beside it- 'Muggle'.
Hermione frowned. Was Draco trying to find some way to prove she wasn't just a Muggleborn? Attach her to one of the Pureblood families?
Why did he care this much? She had never cared to know where her magical blood came from. It never mattered to her that she was Muggleborn. In fact, Hermione was proud of it!. To come from a different culture, a different world, and to excel in this one was something that she loved about herself. It was only people like Draco who cared about her blood lineage and family history.
She read her parents names, a thrum of sadness passed through her at the sight of them. She missed them so much, but at least they were safe and maybe one day she would be able to go find them again and bring them home. Or maybe she would join them in Australia and leave all this behind.
As tempting as the thought was, there were already so many people she had left since the start of the war. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna. Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Tonks, Remus, and Kingsley. Not to mention all the other Weasleys, her second family really. She could probably sit here for the next half hour and list names. But there was only one name that made her heart beat painfully in her chest.
Draco.
She was leaving him now too. Hermione tried not to think about what he would look like sitting alone in their empty room. She hated to think that something she had done would cause him pain, but she didn't have any other options. Draco had never given her any. He had stolen her away but now, she was stealing herself back.
She just wished that she was able to take her heart with her too.
Hermione tucked the book into the pocket of the jumper with the dagger and turned back, headed to the door, and reached for the handle when it turned.
She had half a second to register what was happening before Draco was there, hand around her throat and walking her back swiftly. His fingers tightened into her skin and his eyes burned like ash covered coals as they bore down on her.
Hermione hit the side of the desk and the Hand of Glory and astrolabe went tumbling from her hands as one lifted to grab at his wrist and the other dove into the pocket of the jumper hoping to find the dagger.
She had just closed her fingers over it when Draco's left hand wrapped around her arm and slammed it down onto the surface of his desk, making her lose her grip on the dagger as she opened her mouth to gasp in pain. He tightened his hold on her throat, cutting off the air supply for just a moment and lowered his face to hers.
"What the fuck do you think you doing out here, kitten?" His lips were almost white with fury.
Hermione clawed at his hand and Draco shook her a little.
"Trying to leave me?"
She pulled on his wrist.
"I think you need to spend some time in your cage," he spat, "pet."
Hermione managed a strangled "NO!" as he loosened his grip enough so that she could breathe again. Pushing on his arms and chest, she tried to dislodge him, but Draco was much larger than she was and he had planted himself firmly in between Hermione and the door.
Draco pushed his body against hers, pinning her to the desk. "Clever little witch," he snarled. "Thought you got out? But this is what you said you wanted, wasn't it? To never leave me again?" Hermione's heart thundered in her chest, matching the storming grey of Draco's eyes. "Now you never will."
He flicked his wand and the bedroom door opened, the chains from their room came flying into his hand. He snapped it around her wrist as she tried to beat it against his chest, tangled curls falling in her face, mixing with the tears that were spilling over onto her cheeks.
"You're so stupid." Draco was breathing heavily, as if each rise of his chest was taking all the energy he had. "I know you hate me, but you don't have to get us both killed over it."
"I wouldn't have-"
"Yes, you would! Look at you- barefoot and barely dressed. You think you could have made it out of here without a wand? And if you did, someone would snap you up and chain you down and not treat you half as kindly as I have."
Hermione squirmed against him and Draco pressed himself harder into her.
"Not everyone has my self control, Sweetheart. Most of us wouldn't be able to resist a tasty little thing like you trouncing around in the woods." Panic seared inside of her, mixing with the adrenaline still rushing her in veins as Draco lowered his mouth to her ear. "If you wanted to get fucked, all you had to do was beg."
It was wrong. Oh Godric, it was so, incredibly, unbelievably wrong, but she felt her blood heating up with Draco so close to her and having his hands on her again. Arousal soaked through her very skin, drenching like a storm in summer; hot, heavy and oppressive.
He always had been able to make something bad good enough that she ended up whining for it, giving into her darkest desires and letting Draco make them all come true. She could smell the crisp mint of him mixing with the creamy parchment to create the perfect scent of intoxication and instead of trying to wriggle away from him, Hermione found herself pushing her hips back into his.
Draco looked like he was in pain. Lightning flashed in his grey eyes and she heard a deep, primal growl coming from the back of his throat. The heat growing deep within her had nothing to do with the fire roaring beside them.
"Don't tease me, Granger. I've imagined you bent over this desk too many times to be taunted with it." His thumb pressed into the softness of her neck and she watched as his pupils grew. Her pulse, her own blood, had betrayed her. He knew what he was doing to her, he had always known who and what she was.
Draco shivered, as if he was barely in control of himself, the flames flickering in his dark eyes, making the grey look like the shadows of smoke. "Thinking about how it would feel sliding into that tight little pussy you have again while I pin you down to use you for nothing but my own selfish pleasure."
Hermione gazed up at him, unable to do anything else.
"Over," Draco breathed out. "And over."
Hermione's legs shook under her, but not from fear. And it was her Gryffindor courage that mustered up the small voice she breathed out. "How?"
The silver of Draco's eyes shone despite shrinking to a thin ring. She didn't let her eyes leave his, but she could see him swallow hard, waiting until the lump in his throat settled back down to speak.
He took his hand from her wrist and slid it into the open front of the grey jumper and down the white silk covering the curve of her waist. "Dressed you in black. For punishment. Then I beat your cute little ass the brightest, shining fucking red. Gagged you so all you could do was whimper for me when I played with your pussy. When I did let you speak, you offered me your wet cunt in contrition."
Hermione's mouth went dry. Had it been open this whole time? Draco ran his thumb lightly over her bottom lip.
"You'd tell me how sorry you were and how much you loved me. And you know what I did? I forgave you, Granger. Every. Fucking. Time. I forgave you and I fucked you until you cried, begging to be my good little slut again, promising to do anything to please me because that's what pleases you too."
Hermione's lids fluttered. While Draco was talking she had felt him growing hard against her, his cock pressing into her lower stomach as he trailed his thumb back down the front of her neck.
"I can feel you trembling, Sweetheart I know you want it, I know you want it just as much as I do. Let me fuck you. Let me fuck you and I promise," his voice was hoarse, "I'll make you love me again."
Hermione could barely breathe with the pressure that had built up inside her, trying to find some sort of escape. No, a release. "Who said I stopped?"
Draco paused, his face dangerously neutral. She could have mistaken him for a marble statue if not for the unintentional movement below his belt.
His hand dropped from her neck. "You still love me?"
Hermione's heart hurt watching the subtle change in his expression. The hard exterior was falling away, deep in the darkness of his eyes, she could see him, her Draco. Trapped in those rings of silver, just as locked in as she was. She reached her hand up and the chain moved with her.
His chain. Their chain.
She'd never be free. She could run to the other side of the world and Draco would still be with her, in her head and in her heart. He'd never let her go and the weak part of her soul didn't want him to. Or maybe, that was the stronger part of her. She didn't know anymore all she knew was there wasn't anything Draco could do that would stop her from loving him.
And that truth scared her more than anything else.
"Say it." Draco grabbed her face in one hand, squeezing her cheeks hard and turning it up to him. "Say it, Hermione."
Her breath hitched in her throat as she was suddenly looking directly at his chiseled face where a couple locks of his white blond hair had fallen in front of his mercury eyes.
"Draco, please," Hermione whimpered, "You have to let me go."
"No," he growled. "You have to stay. With me. You have to be with me." Hermione closed her eyes, tears leaking down onto his hand. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm like this, but I can't stop. I don't have a choice, so you don't get one either."
She opened her eyes, looking up at him. So many times she had wished he wouldn't hide his feelings away from her, but now, faced with the raw emotion on his face, Hermione understood why he did.
"You're mine."
In the heat of the moment neither of them had heard the footsteps coming from down the hall or the door slightly opening farther as someone walked in.
"Draco, I wanted to give you-"
Draco's fingers tightened into her cheeks painfully as his head snapped to the side so quickly that Hermione was reminded of a snake striking out at it's prey.
His Mother was standing in the doorway of the study, staring at them both with wide blue eyes. Hermione tried to turn, but Draco still held her face in his strong hand. She could barely see out of the corner of her eye, but Narcissa Malfoy's expression was clearly cold on her beautiful face.
She was impressive; silver blonde hair pulled back from her face but still fell around her shoulders like fine silk. Her gown was a deep royal blue and fit her slender frame like it was made to. Even in her shocked state, everything about her exuded wealth, class, and elegance. It was easy to see where Draco got his natural grace from.
Narcissa stared at the pair of them and terror gripped Hermione's chest just as tight as Draco's hold on her face.
They had been found. She had been found.
Draco always said it was dangerous for her out here, only letting her into his study when he approved it. Maybe he was telling the truth and it wasn't some sort of game of control? Maybe… maybe he had been keeping her safe all this time because faced with the prospect of being taken from him filled her with dread.
Hermione shook so violently the grey jumper slipped from her shoulder, exposing the sheer, white dress underneath.
"What is this?" Narcissa hissed.
Draco's large hand squeezed her face painfully and Hermione let out a small whimper before he quickly dropped it, making her messy curls fall over her face as he took a step back from her, folding his hands in front of himself in an effort to cover the evidence of what had just been about to happen.
Her heart was racing as she brought up a hand to rub her cheeks; she could feel the heat of emabassment in them and was glad for the curtain of her hair hiding most of her away from Narcissa's cold gaze. She shrugged the jumper back onto her shoulder and the chain clattered as she moved.
"Mother-" Draco started and Hermione looked up to see his chest rising and falling rapidly, muscles tensed and wand drawn.
"Draco, may I speak with you?" Narcissa's tone was clipped and her glacial blue eyes glanced over to Hermione just long enough for Hermione to feel the ice from her glare before they moved back to Draco. "In private?"
It might have been a question, but everything about it told Hermione that Draco didn't have much of a choice in the matter.
He did not look back down at her before he swiftly moved towards the door, his wand still in his hand and followed his Mother into the hall. Hermione watched as the door closed behind them, leaving her alone with a racing heart pumping ice-cold blood through her numb limbs.
She held her breath for two seconds and gathered up her chain, hauling it with her as she took a few nervous steps forward. Hermione strained her ears trying to hear what they were saying through the door.
"I don't even know what to say to you." Narcissa spoke in the same cold, short tone of voice as she had addressed him with a moment ago.
"It's not what it looks like," Draco started.
Narcissa scoffed. "Not what it looks like?! Draco you have some girl in chains! Do not try to lie to me."
"Let me explain-"
"I can't even look at you!"
Hermione's heart dropped into her stomach. She could barely hear them at first, but Narcissa's voice was quickly rising, emotion pouring into it. She could only imagine what must be going through Narcissa's head right now, walking into… that.
But it was terrifying that now someone knew she was here. What would his Mother do? Would she tell someone Hermione was here? Would they take her in front of Voldemort? Would they torture her for information? She hated being trapped here by Draco, but it had to be better than to be handed over to other Death Eaters.
"You don't understand!" Draco implored.
"I did not raise you like this," Narcissa snapped. "I did not raise you to hold someone against their will and- and rape them!"
Hermione froze. Oh God she thought… Hermione's heartbeat thundered in her ears and she could barely hear Draco over the sound of it.
"It's not…" his voice was pleading. "Mum, I… I love her."
"I don't want to hear any of your sick excuses, Draco! I saw what you were doing with her-"
"Mother, please!"
The echo of the slap rang into deep silence and Hermione's hands flew up to cover her mouth and the faint sound of her gasp.
She waited with baited breath, staring at the closed doors, but no noise or movement came through.
"I had such high hopes for you," Narcissa eventually went on, her tone was one of disgust. "I knew when you took the mark things would change, but… I never thought my son would end up like… like the rest of them."
Draco didn't answer for quite some time and when he did, Hermione could barely hear him. "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry…" Narcissa said dismissively. "Yes, I've heard that many times from your Father as well."
"I'm not him." Draco's voice was a little stronger, but more bitter.
"I don't know who you are anymore," Narcissa said icily. "But you are not my son."
Something burning and cold passed through Hermione and she could only imagine what Draco must be thinking and feeling right now. She wanted to tell Narcissa that he hadn't touched her or at least, hadn't hurt her. Draco was controlling and possessive, yes, but… he hadn't forced himself on her.
"Take this," Narcissa hissed. "Pay your whore and send her away. Tonight. I won't have you doing this in my home."
Hermione scuttled back as the door opened and Draco walked back in, brows heavy over his eyes and a handprint across his face. She didn't want him to know she had been listening, but he wasn't looking at her anyway.
But Hermione couldn't tear her eyes from him. His steps were heavy, shoulders hunched, and in his fist was the ruby brooch she had torn off in the greenhouse. She was the reason Narcissa had come here tonight.
It was her fault Narcissa had said those awful things to him. It felt like her heart was falling out of her chest.
She didn't need to be told to go back. Hermione was already walking through his bedroom when she heard the door lock behind her.
Turning and expecting to see Draco looming there, she was greeted with only empty space. He hadn't followed her in.
Hermione waited. Finally resting on the foot of his bed when her legs felt stiff from standing in one place for so long.
She sat there, glancing up at the outline of the door until she realized it must have been almost an hour and he still hadn't come back in.
Hermione could hear some shuffling and then a drawer opening and closing. She was a little surprised that he hadn't stormed in to scold her some more, but it made sense that he might want some time to himself.
Draco had just stood there and let his Mother berate him for an act he had never done. He might have gotten rough with her, but Draco didn't make her do anything. She looked down at her chains. Well, at least not like that. He was holding her here, but he actually believed that doing that was keeping her safe and after tonight she was starting to believe him a little.
She wondered, if their roles were reversed, would she force him to stay as well? Hermione tried to imagine allowing Draco to walk away from her and join the Death Eaters if she had a way to take him from that life.
She sat on the bed and tried to make sense of those feelings for a while. A long while. She wasn't sure how long, but it must have been over an hour if not more. She lifted her head from the top of her knees to look back at the door that Draco still had not come through.
There was a crash of glass and a loud, raw roar. Hermione jumped, chains clattering loudly and then she heard a deep thud. Then another. And another. And another.
Then, silence again.
Hermione had pushed herself against the headboard as far as she could go. The glass must have been a bottle of fire whisky and the thuds must have been his fist. Just like she had seen him do in the Room of Requirement last year. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but also beating for the man, alone, on the other side of the door.
Draco hadn't talked much about his family, but the few things he had said about his Mother had been kind and his tone always respectful. It was obvious that he cared deeply for her and for her to say those things to him…
Why had he stood there like that? Why hadn't he told his Mother-
Hermione's mouth opened.
Draco had done it to protect her. If Narcissa thought she was just a Mudblood that Draco had dragged up here, Hermione's identity would be safe. His Mother had seen her, but there had been no recognition in her eyes, at least, not in that moment. Draco must have realized that too and decided to let his Mother think him a monster to keep her from finding out who Hermione really was.
"Draco?" she called out. She wasn't sure if he could hear her or not. When he didn't answer she tried a little louder. "Draco?"
Only silence. The room darkened and the candles burned down into wax puddles. Hermione had curled up on her side, but lay awake, eyes open and mind churning. She watched the dark night pass through the window.
She heard some movement out there and sat up, expecting the door to open at any moment and Draco to spill in, shouting at her for… anything. Everything. She wouldn't even mind as long as he came back and she could see that he was okay.
But Draco did not wrench the door open and stagger to bed tonight.
Draco didn't come back in at all.
.
Draco didn't come home for three days. Hermione sat on the bed, biting her lip and picking at her nails while she stared at the door, hoping to hear the slow click of it being unlocked. She barely slept and took to pacing back and forth across the room. Crookshanks ran alongside her and flicked his tail against her legs as she stomped between the dresser and a tapestry of a large ship being dragged under by spiked tentacles coming up from underneath.
She passed some of the hours by reading "The Sacred Twenty-Eight". It was the only book Draco had never let her pull off his shelves and now Hermione had all the time in the world to read it. But she didn't really want to once she cracked it open.
Draco had filled in the margins and breaks of pages with his own additions to the book, namely the crimes of Death Eaters. Some so atrocious that Hermione felt her stomach turn just reading them.
The lists went on and on, his own snide annotations added into them as well. Crude comments about Daphne in the Greengrass' chapter, including a ranking system that had two other scripts also penned in. She could only assume that Draco had started making these notes long ago and let Blaise and Theodore Nott add in their thoughts on certain girls as well. Further proof that Draco had been working in here before leaving school was his commentary on Marcus Flint's Quidditch skills before he elaborated into the horrific acts Draco's previous Captain had committed.
Under the Lestranges, Draco had almost run out of room listing all of the things they had done, but he had still managed to scrawl "Crazy Bitch" next to Bellatrix.
The combination of the snarky boy she knew from school and the cruel Death Eater she lived with now made her head hurt.
She arrived at the Malfoy chapter, already knowing what she would find there. The Death Eaters in his family went three generations deep. Abraxas Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, and finally- Hermione turned to the last page of their chapter and read Draco's name.
He had only written one thing next to his name, but the crime he had accused himself of sent a shiver down her spine.
"Blood Traitor."
Her heart stopped beating. Out of everything he could have written by his name, Draco had chosen this as his most heinous crime. Tears burned hotly in her eyes.
"Because everything that I've done is all your fault."
Where was he now? What was he doing in her name? Tracking down Harry the same way he had found her? Her chest clenched, tightening around the broken shards of her heart at the thought of Draco facing down Harry somewhere, spells flying as the two men fought. She hated that in these moments, she worried more about Draco's safety than Harry's.
Was she a traitor too? She sat the book down and did not pick it back up.
The whole first day, Hermione had stared at the door, waiting for Death Eaters to burst through. Narcissa would have had time to think it over, she might have been able to place Hermione's face. But Draco's wards held and there were no sounds from his study either.
It was empty. Silent.
And she was alone.
She practiced her wandless magic, using it as a way to distract herself from the anxiety that wouldn't let her mind rest, constantly conjuring images of Draco lying in a pool of his own blood and at night, Draco lying in someone else's arms. Is that why he hadn't come back? Is that where he went when he wasn't with her?
It wasn't as if he was planning on marrying her anyways. She'd never be anything more than his good little slut who begged to please him. And she had almost been just that the other night. Would she have gone through with it if his Mother hadn't come in? Hermione knew the answer before she even thought of the question.
She laid on his side of the bed, breathing in the faint smell of new parchment and cool mint that just barely lingered on his pillow. Would it be so bad? If Draco was right and Voldemort did win, what sort of life would she have out there? Back to lonely nights in a cold tent, running from Snatchers and fighting Death Eaters only to slowly watch her friends fall one by one…
At least here she would have Draco.
Until he was warped and cold like his Mother saw him becoming. She remembered the hard look on Naricssa's face and the beauty underneath it. Had a lifetime of watching her husband serve Lord Voldemort taken the kindness from her as well? She certainly hadn't shown any to Draco that night. What had she seen, all these years, watching her family vow their lives to a Dark Lord that made her judge her own son so harshly?
Hermione thought about Draco's notes in "The Sacred Twenty-Eight". It was one thing reading about it, it was another to have to see it. And have to see someone you love do those things. Maybe there was an upside to being locked in Draco's room. She was protected here. She just hoped that wherever her friends were, they were protected as well.
Draco too.
She watched the sun rise over the frosted grounds and hoped to see him coming back. When he didn't, Hermione took to summoning random items from ever increasing distances across the room. She had to keep practicing. Draco had reconfigured the locking charms and protective wards on the door, but it didn't mean that she was giving up. She just had to stay sharp and watch when Draco locked and unlocked the door, just like she had before. But when she got through the door this time...
Well, she'd worry about that later. Not that her overactive brain listened to her. Her stomach turned over, sick with worry about where Draco was and what she was doing. Her fingers moved over the healed spot on her thigh, stroking it softly like she used to, only this time, there was no heat from the bruise under her fingers. She missed it. She missed him.
So Hermione filled the hours as best she could, alternating between melancholy and anxiety with short bursts of fury when her meals magically arrived three times a day, letting her know that wherever he was, Draco at least was still alive.
Because each plate was piled high with nothing but foul smelling brussel sprouts.
.
"Draco!" Kenna bounded over to him and threw her arms around his neck. His body stiffened, unaccustomed to the affection Kenna was so free with. She was like a dog that was friendly with everyone it met. He was glad that she was doing better, but this felt… odd.
Draco had hounds his whole life, but now, he preferred cats.
He noticed Donovan glowering at him and pulled Kenna's arms from around him, placing them at her sides.
"I missed you! Where have you been?"
"He's too important for us now," Fergus said in his thick accent and glanced as Theo walked in behind Draco. "He's got his own Death Eaters now."
"I work with Draco, not for Draco," Theo snapped and Fergus grinned nastily at him.
Draco ignored them and approached Donovan who was shrugging on his heavy fur coat. "Ready?"
Donovan sucked his teeth loudly. "Where have you been, Malfoy? I don't like taking orders from Nott."
"I'm here now," Draco growled, annoyed at the fact that his wolves were questioning him. When did everyone get so goddamn needy? "Do you want to hunt or are you going to hug me too?"
Donovan bared his teeth and Draco waited, impatiently, for him to get over whatever little qualms he had.
"Fergus! Kenna! Stop fucking around, we have work to do!" Donovan barked.
Draco smirked down at the large wolf who had wisely decided to fall in line, moving to stand between Theo and Kenna who were whispering an end to whatever conversation they had just been having.
Draco addressed the small group before him.
"Fergus, Kenna- you're on point. Round them up and push them towards us," Draco said, his voice stern and commanding. "Donovan, left flank, Theo, right. Shape them up and close them in. I want them in the center- and I want them alive."
The wolves nodded in understanding and Theo gave him a cheeky salute.
"Let's go."
It could be over. Today. He could end the war tonight. Did… did he want to do it like this though? What would Granger say? He clenched his jaw. Probably nothing worse than what she'd already said to him. So what did it matter now?
She certainly wasn't going to tell him she loved him. Couldn't even give him that little bit. In fact, she thought she could just leave him, get back to Saint Potter and save the fucking world. Well, she wouldn't be going anywhere if there wasn't a Chosen One to get back to.
He'd been hunting Potter for months now and was closer than ever. She had forgiven him for so much else, would she be able to forgive him for this? Would he deserve it?
Draco took a deep breath of the cold air to try and clear his head. He could decide what to do with Potter after he caught him.
.
Draco pulled the collar of his coat up around him and then quickly stuck his hands back in his pockets. This winter was hanging on with every claw it had in the frozen earth. He was tired of being cold, so fucking sick of feeling numb with only the burn of frozen air in his lungs to remind him that he was in fact, still alive.
Unfortunately.
Not that being dead would be much of an improvement on his situation. But at least his early demise would make Granger smile.
Fucking bitch.
He was tramping through the chilly woods with grey skies weighing heavily above him. The snow had mostly melted, leaving only patches of icy sludge gathered at the base of skeleton-like trees. Draco picked his way carefully, stepping over fallen branches and frosted roots that jutted up out of the half decayed leaves like broken bones of some long dead beast.
Theo nudged his arm and Draco glanced over to see him holding out a flask with the Nott family crest emblazoned on it. They had been twelve years old when the two of them stole this flask out of Theo's Father's coat and tried fire whisky for the first time. Hiccuping and laughing as they forced the last of the harsh liquid down, they fell to the floor, laughing over something Draco couldn't even remember now.
Theo was always down for a good time, always there when Draco needed to let loose. They might have spent the majority of their lives competing against each other, but Theo always did find a way to make it entertaining.
Draco looked up to see Theo grinning at him. He found himself grinning back and accepted the flask, drinking deeply and relishing the familiar taste on his tongue.
It helped, a little, against the cold in his blood, but did nothing against the bitter frost that had settled around his heart. Every drink made him think of Granger.
What was he doing? Hunting down her best fucking friend so he could turn him over to be murdered? The idea made the liquor curdle inside him. Potter wasn't a problem. He was hiding, probably not doing too well if Granger's state was any indication of their level of competence on the run.
The Dark Lord had promised a return to the old ways and a society where Purebloods would be powerful and protected. How was one person's life standing in the way of that? And if it was, was the Dark Lord as powerful as he claimed to be?
His boots crunched loudly over the broken limbs scattering the forest floor. Did it matter? He already had the mark, already had his life laid out of him. There was only one way to stop being a Death Eater and thoughts like this were of no use to him. Not when he was so close to actually finding Potter and handing him over, therefore securing Draco's place in the new world and making sure that he, and Granger, would be safe and…
He wanted to say happy, but all he could think was 'together'.
Maybe he didn't deserve to be happy. Not after what he'd done. Killing fractured a soul, and even though Draco had never committed the act himself, he had already sold his and there was no getting it back. But he didn't have to be a murderer to know what he was damned for.
At least it would be in one piece when he burned.
"Oh shit," Theo said from beside him and Draco froze.
His plan had worked. Worked almost too well. The wolves had found Potter sooner than he thought and now there were five bodies all running straight towards Draco and Theo at full speed.
Potter. Weasley. And the wolves close on their heels.
His heart dropped to the frozen ground. This was it. This was his chance at… at… at everything he wanted. Wasn't it?
Wasn't Potter's death the key to finally getting him where he wanted, where he deserved to be?
Or was it just his one way ticket to hell?
Draco looked directly into the fucker's green eyes as they raced towards him. Granger's wand was in Potter's hand. Draco gripped his own. He had given it back to her before pushing her down in the mud and leaving her and she had given it up for Potter to have a chance to keep fighting. What did Draco have to give up to have a chance to be with her? She'd never forgive him for this. If there was any part of her that still loved him, handing over Potter would kill it.
Every way he turned was just more death.
Draco dropped into a defensive stance, planting himself on the frozen ground.
Weasley was throwing curses over his shoulder at the wolves as Potter raised his wand, aiming it at Draco.
He could feel Theo's arm lifting next to his, they had sparred enough times that Draco could predict Theo's movements easily. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see the look of triumph lighting up Theo's face. Potter fired a stunning spell at Draco at the same time Theo sent one back.
Granger's face flashed in his mind, cinnamon eyes burning.
"Oh hell," he growled and angled his shield charm so that Potter's stunner bounced off and hit Theo's unprotected side. The one Draco was supposed to be covering.
Theo dove face first into the dead leaves as Potter collided into Draco. They tumbled for a moment, struggling against each other. Potter was shorter than him, but he was putting up a hell of a fight.
Draco tried to wrestle Granger's wand from his hand. He didn't like the fact that someone else was touching something that was hers. His.
"Potter-" Draco grunted. "Fucking stop."
Potter threw his weight against Draco, pushing him against a tree. "Where's Hermione?!"
Draco snarled up and shoved him back. "She's safe!"
Potter glared at him, his glasses sliding down his nose. "If you fucking hurt her, Malfoy-"
Draco pushed against Potter again, dislodging himself and they quickly scrambled to their feet, wands aimed at each other's heaving chests.
Weasley's annoying fucking voice shouted in the distance and Draco heard one of his wolves yelp in pain. He swore on Salazar's watery grave that if he ever got his hands back on that mangy motherfucker-
Theo groaned loudly, blowing a few dead leaves away from his face.
Draco glanced down at him, sprawled on the ground then back up at Potter. This was the man she had followed. The friend she wanted to get back to. Maybe Draco should give him over to the Dark Lord...
"Get out of here."
Potter looked furious. "What?"
Theo started to move at his feet. The small bit of time Draco's treachery had bought him was coming to a close. It was now or never.
"Get the fuck out of here."
Potter didn't move or lower his wand.
Draco ground his teeth together. "You want to die? No? Then FUCK OFF!"
Potter took a step back, keeping Granger's wand trained on him. Draco growled; they didn't have time for this shit.
He took three breaths. One. better not have been lying about still being in love with him.
Three.
Draco lowered his wand and Potter's mouth dropped open.
"Go. GO!"
That asshole had always beaten him to the snitch so Draco shouldn't have been so surprised when Potter threw his fist into Draco's cheek, snapping his head to the side. He caught himself on a tree, the cold bark digging into his palms as he pushed himself back up.
Potter was carefully moving back from him and towards Weasley who was tangling with Donovan. Draco was filled with a cold fury at the sight of that ginger bastard and for a moment, considered launching himself back in the fray just so he could pay that piece of shit back for last year.
Draco owed him pain.
Lots and lots of pain.
That red bastard almost lost him Granger. Then he had run off with her and left Draco to-
Theo moaned and moved again. Draco placed his boot on the middle of Theo's back, holding him down.
Potter was moving away from him quickly now, but turned back and said, "This isn't over, Malfoy! We're not giving up on her!"
Draco snarled, gripping his wand tightly as Potter turned and ran.
"Neither am I," Draco said under his breath. Granger was his girl. His. No one was taking her from him. No fucking one.
He felt Theo shifting under him, but kept him in place until he saw Potter and Weaselbee overpower Donovan, and take off into the woods again. Draco heard the crack of apparition and lifted his boot from Theo's back as he began to come to his senses on the cold ground.
If Potter got himself caught after this, there was nothing Draco could do about it. He couldn't save everyone, but he didn't have to kill them either. Draco carefully locked his thoughts away behind the cracked white walls in his mind and pulled them close, focusing on the struggle with Potter and the sting of the hit.
Potter had gotten away from more experienced Death Eaters before, but… Draco knew what happened to them.
He had been the one who carried out the orders, after all.
Draco gripped his wand tight in his hand. Granger better spread her fucking cunt after this. Let him feel her warmth, her heat… at least one more time before the Dark Lord murdered him in cold blood.
.
The door opened suddenly and Hermione sat up as light streamed in. A dark shadow appeared in the doorway, slouching and holding onto the handle for balance. Thunder rolled outside, deep and low, like the growl of a great scaly beast.
Her face fell. Draco was back. And he was unbelievably drunk. Of course he was.
She has sat here, worried sick over what was going on, while Draco had gone on a bender. Lovely.
Draco almost fell as he took a few steps into the bedroom, leaving the stability of the door handle behind him. He dropped his coat to the floor, not bothering to pick it up or even charm it back into the wardrobe. As he got closer she could see his mussed hair and smell the overwhelming scent of alcohol pervading from him.
She glared at him as he stumbled over to the edge of the bed. The sconces on the wall lit as they reacted to his presence and Hermione blinked her eyes trying to adjust to the light. His feet tripped him up and his fingers fumbled on the ties for his dragon-hide vest. It was shining like it was wet but he pulled it from him before she could get a better look at it and threw it to the ground. He swayed as he undressed, tossing the black shirt down and let his trousers fall down his long legs.
Draco made it to the bed and sank down on the side of it. Up close she could see the water running off the longer strands of his hair, falling down onto the white t-shirt he always wore under his clothes.
Hermione bent her legs in front of her as Draco struggled to kick off his boots. What was he doing? Either he was too drunk to remember they didn't sleep together anymore or too drunk to care. Hermione thought about reminding him by shoving him off the bed and onto the floor.
Draco growled as he pulled at his second boot, swearing when it finally slipped off and he chucked it across the room.
"Draco," Hermione said in a firm voice and he threw himself back on the bed next to her. "Draco, get out of the bed."
He ignored her and threw his arm over his eyes.
Hermione was fuming. He showed up here, after days, without so much as a 'hey'! Did he think she would take pity on him in his drunken state and let him stay here? The answer was a resounding no.
"Get out!" Hermione tried to shove him, but he was much heavier than she expected and she barely moved his shoulder with her effort.
Draco mumbled something that sounded like, "My bed."
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him; not that it mattered, he couldn't see her anyways. Hermione tried to think of what to do. He was incredibly drunk. It reminded her of the night she had found his mark. She glanced over at him; the dark mark was currently pressed against his eyes as he shielded them from the dim light in the room.
"It is your bed, but you gave it to me, remember? You don't sleep here anymore." She had to do something because soon he was going to fall asleep and she didn't think she had much of a chance of rousing him once he was unconscious. And his damp hair was getting the pillow she had taken to cuddling with all wet.
"My bed…" He stretched out his arm. His face was… ashen. He was a sick shade of pale grey, two patches of flushed pink under his cheekbones were the only hint of color in his face. Draco opened his eyes and she saw the glazed, bloodshot gaze land on her. "My girl."
Draco grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her towards him in a swift movement.
"Draco!" Hermione shouted, but he was stronger than her and before she knew it, he had pushed her back against the mattress and was hovering over her. His gaze was unfocused but didn't leave her face even as his head swayed a little.
A drop of water fell from his hair, landing on her face and trailing down her cheek to her neck.
Hermione tried to push him away from her, but he merely grabbed her other hand, pinned it against her curls beside her head like her other one and breathed out a deep sigh. It smelled sickly sweet from the whisky and she turned her head, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
"My girl…" he slurred. "In my bed."
"Get off of me," she tried to sound firm, but really didn't know if he was listening to her at all.
Draco ran his nose along hers softly. She didn't want him to do that. Because when he did that she felt a fluttering deep in her and she had already instinctively fallen still underneath him. The last thing she needed was to feel her blood rush through her when she was in such a compromising position.
"My sweet girl…" his voice was deep and his words heavy with liquor. "So sweet. So good."
Hermione's body contracted and she tried to breathe, but when she did all she could smell was Draco and the fire whisky hanging on him like a vapor.
"And… I'm bad."
She hated decoding his drunken rants. He never made any sense anyway and she was always left feeling disappointed. In him and herself. But she couldn't exactly get up and leave right now. She wasn't exactly sure she wanted to. The feel of his body on top of hers was enough to turn her struggles into wiggles.
Draco leaned down over her and Hermione gasped, lips parting. Draco opened his mouth too and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he whispered, "I'm damned."
Hermione looked up at him and felt the blood drain from her face. His eyes were large and looked like two silvery moons staring down at her, cold and alone. The last time he got this drunk it was because he thought he was going to kill Dumbledore. He had been doing better recently, ever since she asked him to. Had something happened tonight that pushed him to drink this much?
"Draco…" Hermione said softly, warily. "What happened?"
He pressed his head against hers and closed his eyes, beginning to breathe quickly. His grip on her wrists tightened a little, but not to the point where it hurt. It was more so like he was holding onto her than holding her down.
"I didn't want to," he murmured, sliding his head down into her neck. "I couldn't- Made me. I didn't…"
He fell onto her. His weight landed fully on her and Hermione felt her breath being forced out of her open mouth. Draco shifted slightly, moving some of his body to the side and let go of her wrists, but only to wrap his arms around her, pulling on her and keeping her with him.
She could have probably pushed him away from her, gaining a few more inches of separation, but somehow found herself completely incapable of moving at the moment.
"What…" she breathed out. "What did you do?"
He closed his eyes and breathed in and out a few times. Maybe he wasn't going to answer her and in a way, she was almost glad. Did she really want to know? No. Did she have to though? Yes.
"I… had to," his words slipped over each other. "Granger, I didn't want to, but he…" Draco lifted his head and looked deep into her eyes. His gaze was wild and unfocused. Desperate. Pleading. "I had to."
Panic rang alarm bells inside her. "Had to what? Had to what, Draco?"
Draco didn't open his eyes.
"Draco, wake up," Hermione grabbed his face.
His eyes shot open when she touched him. Lightning struck deep in his stormy eyes and his hands dove into her hair, holding her head and pushing it back and up to make her face him. He was raw and rough. Weeks of longing and desire were evident as he breathed in deeply through his nose while his mouth hung open, white teeth bared as it hovered above her own.
Hermione was stunned by his quick reaction and found her hands not pushing him away, but holding onto his thick arms. She stopped herself before when she felt her leg starting to slide up against his thigh. Hermione turned her face away from his, almost choking on the smell of the alcohol he had consumed this evening, but Draco wasn't letting her go.
Using his body weight to hold her down, Draco pressed his face into hers, wet hair smearing across her face and teeth grazing her cheek and neck. She moaned in protest, and he replaced them with his tongue, dragging it up her jaw and around her ear, breathing heavily into it as he tried to push her face back towards him.
"Draco," Hermione groaned. "Draco, stop-"
"I'm sorry," he said with a strained voice. "Please, please forgive me."
She stopped fighting against him. Draco's body shook on top of hers and he balled her hair into his fists tightly.
"Please," he pressed his head against her cheek and sucked in a large, shaky breath. "I'm so sorry… I didn't want to. I-"
There was a faint ringing in her ears. There were many things Draco did, some more willingly than others, but there was only one thing he had ever said he didn't want to do.
Hermione looked up at him. Her mouth might have been open, she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything but the awful agonizing storm brewing in Draco's bloodshot eyes. She knew what had happened without him even saying it.
Her friends flew through her mind, Order members, all of Ron's family- people she cared about and loved. Had… had Draco killed one of them tonight? Her heart hammered in her chest as the roulette wheel of faces slowly landed on... Harry.
"I didn't want to. I didn't want to do it," he repeated, as if he wasn't able to say anything but the few phrases he recanted over and over, It vaguely reminded Hermione of a prayer.
"Who?" Her voice sounded small, even to herself.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Hermione," he choked on her name. Draco couldn't hold her gaze anymore. He tried focusing on parts of her face, but then dropped his eyes away from her. She saw him fading, losing himself in his own mind. "I never wanted any of this."
"Draco," she said his name slowly, taking to bring him back into this moment with her. Her hands were shaking as she turned his face back to hers.
She needed to hear it. She needed to hear directly from him that Harry was… She needed to hear the words and she needed to hear them from him.
"Who did you kill?"
Draco looked up at her, storm grey eyes filled with a thick line of water, as if they had been raining inside him all along.
She watched him take a breath that took his whole frame, causing a tear to fall, splashing down into the dip of her throat.
"Theo. I murdered Theo."
.
A/N: Still love me?