A/N: So content warning I think we need for this chapter is there is a very brief mention of fat shaming and a cruel, crude joke about sexual misconduct involving a troll. It is purely Draco being an asshole and only a very brief mention, but I figured I would give anyone who wants it a heads up.
My eternal gratitude once again to the lovely Bree for betaing for me. (And also letting me live long enough to write another chapter). And a special thank you to Jackie and Ella for helping me work through a couple phrases where I stumbled and also not minding the vague statements about what they were helping me with.
Soundtrack- "Sick Obsession" by Landon Tewers and "scorpio rising" by paris jackson
EIGHTEEN
.
Granger's head lay on his chest, Draco's arm looped around her. The room was dark and he could just barely make out the shape of her under the covers. But he could feel it. Granger was there, with him, in this lumpy, cramped and… kind of cozy bed. His feet hung off the bottom and Granger was halfway on top of him for them both to fit, but he wasn't complaining.
She was warm. After a lifetime of velvet pillows and thick, fur blankets trying to hold in the heat, Draco finally didn't wake up shivering. Granger slid her hand up his stomach and Draco grabbed it, holding it in his own so she didn't have to feel his scars. They had gotten worse. Deep, ragged marks. Rough and uneven.
Fucked up.
It's what he was. What he'd always be. And now Granger knew.
He took her hand from his chest and tucked it in between them. It was a shame she didn't get to enjoy him before he was cut, that he had to hide his body from her for so long, but it was useless putting effort into something that would never be. These scars weren't going anywhere and his Father had taught him to be pragmatic, to go after what he could get, not foolish dreams.
"Draco?" Granger asked softly.
He didn't say anything, just dipped his chin, looking down at her a little.
"Did you know this whole time?"
Draco breathed in, chest expanding and raising her head up with it. "Yeah, kitten. I've known ever since I was branded." He tightened his hold around her just a little.
Her question had been such a simple one. He didn't know why she had even asked. The answer struck him like a bolt of lightning. She already knew when she asked. She was just giving him a chance to talk about it, if he wanted to.
Hell, he didn't deserve someone like Granger.
But they'd have to pry her from his cold dead hands before he let go of her.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Draco bent his free arm behind his head. He thought of half a dozen excuses he could push off on her before deciding to just… tell her the truth. "I didn't want you to know."
He looked up at the shadowed ceiling and saw Theo's dead face staring back down at him. Draco closed his eyes in a long blink, trying to hide from it, but it was there, waiting for him in the darkness of his mind. He had known what he was doing to Theo, what he had been condemning him to as he held that curse. And still, he hadn't stopped.
Because he was scared. Draco wasn't a Gryffindor, full of courage and rash pride; he was a Slytherin and able to slide his way out of every slippery situation he had been in. But not this time. There was no running from this, that black ink was trapped under his skin just as much as he was trapped in this fate.
It was what had prompted him to act on his thoughts, when he found Granger crying in the Restricted Section. He knew he couldn't do it, couldn't kill Dumbledore. And if he failed, he'd be killed in turn and become… some dead thing, cursed to do the Dark Lord's bidding for the rest of time.
So why not do the one thing he always wanted, but never had the courage to? Why not try to fuck the goody-good Granger and dirty up her little Mudblood cunt just once before playing puppet as a rotting corpse for his Master?
Funny, how that one decision ended him up here.
How no matter what he did, it still didn't change a fucking thing. There was only one way to stop being a Death Eater, but now that Granger knew... at least he'd have an out.
Granger lifted herself up a little and looked back up at him. Her twisting locks were gathered up on one side of her neck, falling ever so slightly around her face. Draco could just make out her big, doe eyes in the dark.
"No more lies. From here on out, we tell each other everything. I… I need to know, Draco. You can't keep hiding things from me. Promise me, no more lies."
Draco pulled his arm from behind his head and threaded his fingers in her hair, cupping the back of her head. He pulled her the few inches down to him, pressing her lips to his and kissed her.
Granger's lips were soft and Draco's brows furrowed as he put his thoughts into action, squeezing her shoulders to hold her closer. It was simple, but pure, and Draco let his heart beat wildly for a moment, enjoying the only taste of heaven he would ever get before releasing her.
"Sealed with a kiss." He smirked. Or… that might actually be a smile.
Granger settled back down and snuggled against him again. Draco closed his eyes. Her hand moved back to his chest, fingers lightly tracing the scars there. This time, he didn't stop her.
"We will figure this out, Draco. Don't lose hope."
His heart skipped a beat. If anyone could, it would be Granger. Her fingers warmed his scars, running over them as if she was following marks on a map. They had healed, but they'd never be gone. This was what he was.
"Okay, Sweetheart."
It wasn't a lie.
It wasn't.
Draco hugged her a little close for a few painful beats of his heart. How could he lose something he never even had?
.
Hermione focused on the base of the broken tree near the edge of the woods. She knew how to conjure fire, it was something she had always been good at. Years ago she had made portable fire in jars to warm her and Ron's hands during Harry's Quidditch practices. She remembered shattering one of the jars during her second year when Gryffindor was leaving the field and Slytherin was coming on.
She had watched Draco take off, a blur of green, black, silver, and blond. Suddenly her fire had burned too hot and the jar exploded, only her thick gloves had saved her hands from the shards of glass, even if they had ended up singed. By the time she had repaired it, Draco was on the other end of the pitch, showing off for Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle who were cheering for him in the stands.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
"You've got to hold onto it. You're not just conjuring, you're controlling." Draco was standing behind her and she could smell mint as the breeze blew around them. It had been raining for two days and so Hermione had pulled out some old spell books and read up on fiendfyre.
And inferi.
She told herself she was practicing this in case she needed it against other Death Eaters. Not Draco. She wouldn't… She wouldn't let it come to that. Today was the first day sheets of rain were not coming down and the damp conditions were perfect to test out fiendfyre. Even if she didn't exactly feel ready for it.
Hermione planted her feet. Ready. Resolved.
She had never backed down from a challenge before and she wasn't starting now.
"Go on, Sweetheart." Draco was so encouraging, letting her take time, ease into it. "You can do this."
The only thing was, she didn't really want to.
She could feel her own mental block tightening the muscles in her arm as the fire erupted from the end of Draco's wand, clutched tightly in her hand. The heat blew back against her as the fiery ball burned out in front of them. Hermione flinched, backing up into Draco's chest. His hands landed on her hips and pushed her forward.
"Again."
Other Death Eaters. Not Draco. Not Draco. Not Draco.
This time it seared through the empty space, burning the air around it as it roared towards its target. The flames were powerful and Hermione could feel the weight of it pulling on the wand which jumped to attention, eager and greedy. Hermione had to rein it in, pulling back as the fire tried to spread.
It felt alive. It felt… hungry.
"Yes!" Draco sounded excited at her progress. Hermione focused, keeping it low and steady. The fire wanted to jump into the trees and it took mental and physical concentration to keep it in check. "More."
She ended it. Sweat was rolling down her back and Hermione tried to catch her breath, coughing a little as the stump smoked.
"Are you alright, pet?" Draco ran his hand down her back and slipped two fingers under the hem. They were cool compared to her skin and Hermione shivered as he dragged them along the curve of her hips.
"Yes," Hermione wiped her forehead. The rain hadn't cooled anything off, just made it muggy with heavy air and they were far enough from the beach that the breeze from the ocean didn't reach them. Not to mention they were summoning cursed fire.
And the fact that Draco was touching her.
A new heat started to bloom, this one deep inside her.
Hermione turned, and looked up into the rain grey eyes staring down at her. "Why did you stop?" he asked.
"I…" Her mouth felt dry and she licked her lips. "I just needed to."
Draco nodded and watched the last wisps of smoke curl away from the stump. "You're getting better, but you can do more, Granger."
"Excuse me?" She was doing just fine, thank you very much! Great, seeing as she had barely slept last night either, haunted by Draco's screams in her dreams again. She had followed them, like she always did, only instead of the dark halls of the Manor, she was running down stone corridors that looked like Hogwarts. She still expected it to end in the same way, but when she opened what looked like the gate to the Restricted Section she saw…
She didn't even want to think it. She never wanted to see Draco like that. Dead and… not at the same time.
It was enough to make her miss the nightmares of her dark Death Eater chasing her through the woods. And of him catching her.
Draco gave her a knowing look. "You mastered every charm, spell, and potion you encountered in school. I know this is advanced, but it's not beyond you." He pointed a finger at the now not-on-fire stump. "You're better than that."
"Good job, Hermione!" Ron called from his and Harry's place down the field. Hermione had suggested they split into pairs to practice for a little while. There was enough tension between the four of them already and fiendfyre was unpredictable.
It wasn't Draco's fault, well, not all of it anyway. Harry had become more reclusive over the last week and several times he and Ron had fought a little when they disagreed while going over their plan for Gringotts. She did her best to calm them back down, but when it started to feel a little too much like it had in the tent she retreated back to her room with Draco, only to worry about a different problem.
At least training gave her an outlet for her anxiety. For a little while. She glanced over at her friends. They only had about a week before the polyjuice was ready, but the question was, were they?
Ron gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up and Draco released an annoyed grunt before snapping his fingers in her face. "Pay attention!"
For a moment it sounded like he was going to add something, but then Draco slammed his jaw closed and turned her back around with a little more effort than needed.
So much for being supportive. His mood swings were back in full force, sometimes playful and other times… Hermione pointed his wand back at the broken base and tried again. Draco took his place behind her, giving instructions.
"Bend your elbow."
She was.
"Straighten out your wrist."
As if she didn't already know.
"Spread your legs."
She rolled her eyes and felt a quick pinch on her backside.
"Draco!" Hermione jumped and so did the fire, quickly she whipped it back around, keeping it contained and then recalled it.
Draco merely chuckled. "You'll have distractions out there. You need to get used to them."
"Think a lot of people are going to try and cop a feel in the middle of battle?"
He smirked. "I will."
Hermione huffed and tried to hide the small smile that rose to her lips, pushed there by rising bubbles.
"Don't worry, kitten. You're not going to be in any battles. Not if I have anything to say about it."
"You don't." She narrowed her eyes and stuck her hands on her hips.
Draco gave her a wolfish grin. "Mmm, I like you all… fiery, Granger."
"Don't change the subject, Draco." She pulled a few strands of damp hair off her forehead and tucked them behind her ears, hoping that having her hair back would cool her down, but Draco's gaze heated her right back up.
"Oh, we can have it out, kitten. Upstairs. In our room." He leaned down, breathing in deeply as he moved his mouth to her ear. "I wonder what I'll turn red this time."
Hermione blushed. It was a peace offering, Draco's weird and… insane way of saying he didn't want to fight with her and she had to say, she agreed. They still didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things, most of them concerning the war, but they were both trying. The actual being together part of their… relationship was new to them. Both of them.
They would figure it out. Just another thing on her ever growing list of tasks to do. Along with getting used to calling this a relationship.
Goodness… The bubbles swelled.
"Put that energy to use, Granger," Draco drawled, trying very hard not to sound too happy. "But if I like what you do out here, I might be tempted to give you a reward tonight."
Hermione lifted her chin, bent her elbow, straightened her wrist, and… spread her legs, lining them up with her shoulders. Draco nodded, happy with the form. Of course he would be, Hermione knew how to ground herself. Draco had taught her a lot of things, but magic wasn't one of them. She had always made higher marks than him in school, even with his Father's influence on the board of governors.
Hermione decided not to think about Lucius Malfoy. Or that day in general. Except for maybe that morning…
Her blood warmed in her veins and this time when she sent the fire racing towards the charred stump, it started to take shape and form. A whipping tail and a roaring cry sounded as its mouth… opened and Godric…
The fire swallowed the base of the tree and Hermione felt the heat blossom even from a distance. It was bright, orange and yellow, flickering to white at its center. Hermione squinted against the harsh light.
"Don't take your eyes off of it. You've got to watch." Draco was in her ear, admiration in his voice as he planted his feet on either side of hers and gently touched her hips. "Hold it. Hold it, Granger, I know you can."
His heavy breath blew against the side of her face and a shiver ran down her spine, despite the inferno that she was… she was controlling. She was doing it!
The creature in the flames was consuming the wood, and she was holding it. Wow. So this is what it was like to actually conjure fiendfyre. Hermione had to admit, she didn't hate it.
She felt powerful. Strong. And with Draco behind her she felt like… like she could burn just as hot and bright as the sun itself.
Maybe even more.
The creature tossed its head, consuming the last of the broken tree and Hermione turned Draco's wand, watching the flaming creature burn out with a final roar.
She was gasping, sweating, and smiling.
And so was Draco. His lips parted to show straight white teeth and a plume of smoke wafted behind him, matching the grey in his eyes.
"You're incredible." Draco swooped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, kissing her firmly, all hard pressure and soft lips. Hermione barely had time to kiss him back before he released her, grinning widely down at her. She steadied her feet under her, still in shock over what she had done and that kiss… Draco wasn't normally that affectionate in front of others. He was territorial, yes, but… the way he was looking at her now, he only ever did that when they were alone.
So this is what it was like to be Draco Malfoy's girlfriend…
Hermione liked it even more than casting fiendfyre. She liked it a lot.
"Wow, that was amazing!" Harry was jogging up behind her and Hermione quickly wiped any excess moisture off her lips. "There's nothing left of it!"
She looked out at where the stump had sat and all that was there was a smoking pile of grey and white ash.
Oh.
Her smile fell and when she turned to look at Draco she saw the steely resolve on his face.
She had almost forgotten. Forgotten why he was making sure she knew how to cast fiendfyre.
So she could… use it on him. When the time came.
If the time came.
If they weren't too late.
They needed to get back to hunting horcruxes. Hermione glanced at Draco. Would he come with them? Would he want to? Would Harry and Ron let him? And what would she do if they didn't?
Hermione plastered a not completely genuine smile on her face. "Thanks, Harry. How's yours going?"
"Like shit." Draco stepped up next to her and Hermione exhaled deeply. "A second year could do better than that pale attempt you were conjuring."
Harry glared at Draco. The change in his expression made him look more tired, worn. His scar looked… darker, the skin around it leeched of color.
"Don't be so rude!" Hermione snapped. "If you think you they need help, then give it. We're all on the same side here."
Harry shuffled his feet and Draco gave a slight roll of his shoulders, but neither one contradicted her. Hermione straightened her back a little.
"It's not all that different from a patronus, Harry and I know you've mastered that." She didn't give either of them a chance to argue, but launched into a short lecture on using energy to cast and control conjured magic until she was sure that the uncomfortableness had passed.
"Erm, yeah," Harry mumbled when she asked him if he understood. "Makes sense."
"Let's go back to your target and try it then."
She didn't tell Draco to follow her, but heard his heavy footsteps behind her, black boots crushing the fresh green grass.
Ron was waiting for them and stepped to the side as Harry lined up his wand with a large broken tree limb, fallen during one of the recent storms.
He pushed his glasses up his nose, focusing hard as he easily slid into a perfect casting position.
"Don't burn yourself, Potter," Draco drawled and Hermione shot him a nasty look. "What? I was helping."
Hermione tossed her head a little and caught Ron's eye as she turned away. He took a deep breath and two steps away from her and Draco. Hermione pretended like she didn't notice. Like it didn't bother her that Ron couldn't even stand next to her if Draco was too.
Harry did better that time and Hermione watched as the flames followed the movement of his wand.
"You're getting it!" Hermione cheered as he extinguished them, panting slightly from the effort.
"Finally," Draco muttered and Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. Draco grabbed her hand, twining his fingers in between hers and gave her a cheeky smirk. Hermione, blushing a little, squeezed his hand back.
"If it's so easy, why don't you do it then?" Harry grumbled.
"I'm not the one that needs the practice," Draco snapped back. "I've done it before and well too. I know how to control mine."
"Yeah?" Ron asked, speaking for the first time. "Is that why neither house on either side of Hermione's didn't have as much as a scorch-mark on them?"
What?
Death Eaters had burned down her house not…
She spun around, wanting Draco to deny it. Wishing with all her heart that he would say he had no idea what Ron was talking about and he didn't do it and he'd never do that because he wouldn't want to hurt her and…
Oh God. Oh God… He had. Draco had set fire to her house.
"Granger—" He reached for her and Hermione took a step back towards Harry and Ron, her mouth open and head shaking. No no no.
"It was… I didn't…"
"You burned down my home."
"It's not what you think."
"Not what I think? Am I suddenly not smart enough to understand whatever… insane reasoning you came up with this time?"
"Granger…" He said her name softly, deeply then let out a short breath and glanced at Harry and Ron on either side of her before opening his lying mouth. "Can we talk about this?"
"We are."
"Alone."
"No."
Draco blinked. "What?"
"I said no," Hermione reiterated. She didn't want to be alone with him where he could smooth her hair and whisper softly to her and make it all sound like it was okay when it wasn't because Draco kept doing things that were not okay!
She was not okay and she… she was trying to come to terms with everything Draco had done, but sometimes… sometimes she forgot that Draco wasn't two people. He was one and she couldn't just write off the things she didn't like about him anymore.
"Why? Why would you do that?"
Draco opened his mouth, paused, closed it, and then spoke. "I was drunk, okay? I was drunk, Granger, that's all."
"That's all?!"
He ran his hand over his short hair, grimacing. "I was mad at you and… and you know I do stupid things when I drink."
Hermione scoffed. An old excuse, one he had used too many times with her already.
Draco stepped forward. "It was a long time ago. I would have told you, but…" he exhaled. "I… forgot about it."
"You forgot." Hermione stared at him. "You've done so many heinous things to me that you can't remember them all. Well I do, Draco. I remember everything you've done to me and I'm sick of it!" She stamped her foot against the ground.
Draco threw his hands up. "What do you want me to do about it now?"
Hermione's chest tightened. "Apologizing would be a good start. Or are you not sorry about this either?"
She knew many of the awful things he had done were to survive, that they were orders and if he disobeyed he would have been punished himself or even killed and knowing what lay for him after death… but he could still feel remorse for doing them. Hermione hadn't forgotten about the people he sold to the Ministry or the ones who suffered under his wand.
His jaw was clenched, biting back whatever scathing words he wanted to throw at her. She had a few choices ones herself! "I didn't even hurt anyone! It was empty! It wasn't really your home anymore, not after… And…"
Hermione stared him down. "And what?"
Draco looked away. "And I didn't want you to have anywhere to go back to."
It hurt. It hurt to hear the truth, that Draco had done this not for her, but to her. Sometimes she felt like she didn't know him at all. They were so different, in so many ways. Hermione had been furious with him last summer, yes, but she would have never taken away something so important to him just to upset him.
"I can't believe you." She shook her head, curls bouncing and twisted together. Draco watched them. "You're such a—"
"A what?" Draco said snidely. "Spit it out, you know you can't leave a question unanswered."
"A bad boyfriend!" Hermione yelled and Draco pulled back. "God, sometimes I don't know why I put up with this." It was harsh, cruel even, but… it was true. In a way. Draco didn't say anything for a few moments and Hermione understood why. She was half in shock too, over what she had said.
It was the first time she had called him… that.
And she had used it to hurt him.
Maybe they weren't so different after all.
Draco brows hung heavily over his eyes as he stared at the fallen limb, half burned and half broken. He looked like he was about to speak, but only took a deep breath instead, his face turning cold and indifferent, but Hermione saw the muscle in his neck twitch as he bit back whatever was too… painful for him to say right then.
Hermione felt her own throat tighten, awkwardly aware of Harry and Ron on either side of her, witnessing all of this. Maybe they should have had this conversation alone.
"I'm sorry, Hermione." The words came from the wrong direction; beside her, not in front of her. Ron gave her a sympathetic look. "You know he's never going to change." He had said as much last year, calling Draco a lost cause and Hermione hated that he was seeing this right now.
"Get FUCKED, Weasley!" Draco rounded on him, pushing his nose into Ron's face and glaring down it at him. "By anyone other than MY girlfriend!" Oh God. Her heart wasn't going to be able to take much more. "Preferably by a mountain troll. Maybe an ogre. You can even bring it home to your mother. I'm sure it would fit right in with the rest of your fam—"
"You need to back the hell up, Malfoy." Harry was pulling on Draco's arm, trying to get him away from Ron. She was used to Draco hovering over her, but it was impossible to miss just how tall he was now. How much of a menace he presented, even without a wand. And Draco knew it too.
"Don't touch me, Potter." He shook Harry off.
"Don't you start on my Mum!" Ron was turning more red by the second. Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if steam started coming out of his ears.
Draco smirked nastily. "If I was you, I'd be more worried about the troll. I hear they fuck boulders. Your mum's not that different from a—"
Harry shoved Draco back roughly. "Shut your mouth."
Hermione pursed her lips angrily. "Draco! That's completely uncalled for!"
Ron raised his wand, knuckles white.
"Ron, no!" Hermione grabbed onto his hand, trying to pull it down while Harry shoved Draco back again, a feral gleam in his silver eyes. He… wanted this. He wanted to fight, even in an unfair one. Draco… wanted to get hurt.
He swung a fist out, but Harry blocked it, raising his own, but before he could throw the punch, Harry went rigid. His joints locked and his body teetered for a moment, before falling against Draco who quickly tried to untangle himself from Harry, sending him crashing to the ground.
"Harry!" Hermione let go of Ron.
He took a step towards Draco, stopping at Harry's prone body. "What the fuck did you do?!"
"Nothing!" Draco held up his hands as Hermione dove down to Harry's side, pushing him over. He wasn't moving. "I… I don't even have a wand!"
She'd worry about that in a moment. First she needed Harry to wake up and make sure he was okay. She was just about to do it magically when his eyes started to flutter. Hermione had never been so happy to see that bright shade of green before.
"Oh, Harry!" she cried as he coughed and rubbed his scar. When he lifted his hand away, Hermione saw blood on his fingers. His scar was… bleeding? "What happened? Are you okay? Was it…?"
Harry nodded, wincing as he sat up. Hermione brushed dirt and grass off his back, fussing over the things she could do for him and freaking out over the things she couldn't. Since when did his scar bleed? How long had this been going on? Were the visions of Lord Voldemort getting… worse?
"I think… I think he knew." Harry wiped the blood off on his jeans. "He knew I was there and…" He closed his eyes, but they moved behind the lids. "Normally I can see when he's feeling something particularly strong, but this time it was like something triggered it. Him. I wasn't seeing him, I think…" He opened his eyes. "I think he was seeing me."
Her heart fell down inside her, shortly followed by her spine and maybe her lungs too because she certainly didn't feel like she could use them right now.
"He bridged the connection this time?" she asked worriedly as Ron reached out a hand that Harry took, pulling him to his feet. Hermione did her best to help him and felt how cold and clammy his skin was despite the odd warmth left from the storm.
"Does anyone want to tell me just what the fuck is going on?!" Of course Draco was shouting. Of course he was demanding answers. Of course he wasn't thinking of anyone but himself right now.
Harry rubbed his head again, smearing a little blood across his skin. He and Ron, thankfully, ignored Draco. Draco on the other hand was watching Harry warily, still poised to strike. There was no point in avoiding it, after what he'd just seen, they had to tell Draco.
"Harry sometimes gets…" Hermione glanced at Harry, "visions of sorts." Draco raised his brows. "Of You-Know-Who."
"Visions?"
Hermione's mouth pulled flat. "He can see what You-Know-Who is doing or… feeling."
For the smallest moment, she thought Draco was accepting this information well. Processing it even. Then, he started shouting.
"Me?!" Draco pointed to his chest. "Those red eyes saw me?!"
Hermione and Ron shared a look before both turning to Harry, worried what that brief connection might have given away.
"Don't worry," Harry muttered. "He didn't see the cottage or anything. Just Malfoy and a bit of the woods behind him."
"Oh, fuck this!" Draco shook his head and backed up a few steps. "Granger, go inside, get your shit and we're going. I'm not waiting around for him to show up!"
Hermione planted her hands on her hips again. "No, we're not. And we don't have anywhere else to go, remember?"
Draco's rain grey eyes stormed, matching the gathering clouds overhead. "That's… not entirely true."
Hermione huffed, ignoring him and whatever he was about to say because she was not in the mood for it. She turned back to Harry. "Are you sure you're okay? Harry, you don't look well."
Now that she thought about it, Harry had been increasingly looking worse day by day. He had stopped shaving and a dark shadow lined his jaw. He just… hadn't been himself lately. Hermione had been so focused on trying to research that she had ignored some of the warning signs that there was something wrong with Harry.
Maybe even more than the visions getting worse.
"Yeah, I think I just need some water."
"I'll come with you!" Hermione offered and heard Draco's heavy boots following her again. Good Godric, he couldn't give her five minutes alone?!
"Draco, stop," she ordered and he looked surprised by her tone. Good. Just because she liked him being in charge when they were in the privacy of their bedroom didn't mean she was just going to do whatever he said all the time.
And it was high time Draco understood that.
"I'm going inside with Harry and you're going… to do something else. I don't really care what it is, as long as it's not burning down another house."
Draco looked a little wounded, but it quickly disappeared as his aristocratic features slid back into cool indifference. "So I am supposed to just wait around until you call? No, Sweetheart, that's not how this works."
"And how would you know how a relationship works?" she said waspishly. "Maybe that's what you can do while you sit out here. Think about how things should be between us. And if you can't figure that out, at least try and remember if you've done anything else horrible to me!"
Draco didn't say anything, but she could feel his eyes boring holes into the back of her head as she walked back to the cottage with Harry. She could talk with Draco later, once she had calmed down a little. And once she knew Harry was alright. Just because Draco was her… boyfriend, didn't make Harry any less of her best friend and right now, that's exactly what she needed.
.
Hermione sat on the beach next to Harry. The breeze ruffled his hair, making it even messier than it normally was, but he didn't bother to try and smooth it down. He just stared straight ahead as the waves rushed up the beach only to retreat back into the churning water.
There were dark clouds forming over the sea and whipping up white capped waves under them. The wind blew them ever closer, but Harry and Hermione sat side by side on the beach, weathering the briney breeze that blew by them.
Harry had been oddly quiet, and not just because of what had happened on the training field yesterday. He had quickly gone upstairs once they got inside and stayed there all evening. When she went into his room today to check on the polyjuice potion, Harry had asked her to take a walk with him. He had asked her about her fight with Draco and somehow, they had ended up… here.
"It's probably for the best," he finally said and Hermione tried to decide whether she should say something or not and in her silence Harry went on. "It wasn't much of a relationship anyway, was it? In reality, it ended last year and this whole time has just been… trying to hold onto something that wasn't really there."
She had dealt with her issues with Draco yesterday the way she had dealt with every problem; Hermione read. The more she understood about a subject, the better she could tackle it so Hermione went over all her notes from last fall, cross referencing some new texts that Harry had swiped from Borgin and Burke's.
Not that it did much good, but still, Hermione read on. She read until her eyes started watering because she had forgotten to blink. She read through dinner which Draco, thankfully, did not attend. She read until the candle burned down and then wedged the lumos lit wand behind her ear to work a bit like a reading light she used to have as a girl.
Her parents had given it to her for her birthday when she turned nine. A pang rang through her chest at the thought of them. She missed them terribly and maybe… her reaction about what Draco had done to the house had been fueled by the grief of their removal from her life. She had no idea if she would ever get to see them again and now they felt farther away than ever. She had lost Crookshanks; Hermione didn't blame Draco for that, but her home…
So she didn't go upstairs. Her initial anger with Draco had faded to bruised resentment, for him and herself too. He knew how to push her buttons better than anyone and it had always resulted in her losing her temper. It took a lot to rile her up, but once her claws came out she struck to hurt. Just like he did.
How many times had she said something she didn't really mean because she was upset?
"You didn't have any problem kissing me after Cormac!"
"I don't want someone like you to love me."
"You're a monster!"
Maybe she was too. She hadn't wanted to name the creature she saw in the flames, the one she conjured and controlled, but she had got enough glimpses of it to know what it was. A Chimera. A lion, but not. Something different, something… changing. Something she didn't really want to see in herself, but was there all the same.
Hermione had fallen asleep at the table, reading Dumbledore's old copy of "The Tales of Beedle the Bard '' and woken up to Draco sitting at the bottom of the stairs, eyes red from what she hoped was lack of sleep and staring at her. She sat up and rubbed her face where it was pressed against the pages of her book. When she looked back, he was on his feet, coming towards her. Hermione had jumped up and watched his expression change into something… happy, thinking she was coming back to him.
Hermione hadn't said a word as she brushed past him. Just ran up the stairs, hid in the bathroom until she was sure he wasn't waiting outside anymore and hurried into Harry and Ron's room, hoping to distract herself by going over the Gringotts plan again while she stirred her potion.
Instead, she had spent the last few hours sitting on the beach talking about Draco and while Harry listened. And then, he had started talking too. She was a little embarrassed that it had taken her this long to notice there was something other than just his scar bothering him. Luna had told him before she left; Ginny had found someone else.
Harry cracked his knuckles, a nervous habit of his he had picked up when there was nothing else he could do to release the tension inside himself. "Ginny's got a whole life ahead of her, why should she wait around on some guy who might die tomorrow?"
"You're not just some guy, Harry," Hermione said gently, but Harry only blew out a sharp breath and tilted his eyes from the water to the storm tossed sky.
"You're right. I'm the Chosen One, which means it's already decided for me, isn't it?" Harry looked at her and Hermione could see the bitterness creased in his dark brows. "It's… foretold or… whatever."
"You know I don't believe in divination."
"Then how do you explain it? What's happened to me, what's still happening to me?" There was no denying it. The prophecy was set in motion, both Harry and Voldemort were… dying. Only one would survive it. And whereas Voldemort had tried to master death, his own and others, Harry had always been its victim.
Hermione bit her lip, trying to find an answer that would both suffice and soothe Harry. "You-Know-Who believed it and therefore acted upon it. If he had never heard the prophecy then—"
"Then my parents would be alive. Then I would be at Hogwarts instead of hiding out while I wait to die. Then…" Harry looked back to the white crested waves. "Then Ginny wouldn't have left me for… whoever," Harry finished and she had the distinct impression that he was leaving something out. If he needed more time to tell her the full story, that was fine. After all, Harry had waited months for Hermione to tell him about Draco.
Hermione couldn't think of a single thing to say that would make this any better and maybe that was because… there was nothing to say. Sometimes bad things happened and no amount of brains or brilliance could make it better. Hermione sighed and took Harry's hand in hers. Maybe there was no way to make it all alright, but it didn't mean Harry had to suffer alone.
She knew the loneliness that came with that and didn't want her best friend to have to go through it. Not while she was still here.
There was no one else for Harry to turn to. He couldn't very well have this conversation with Ron. Harry and Ginny's relationship hadn't been Ronald's favorite subject when they were on good terms and it certainly wouldn't be something he wanted to discuss now that things had devolved. Harry said he hadn't wanted to bother her with it, blaming his silence on the fact that she had her own problems to deal with.
But her issues with Draco would never fully go away. They would never agree on certain topics, they would always butt heads on how things should be between them and… she was glad for it. The challenge that Draco presented was something she needed, wanted. Even if she didn't like it all the time.
Right now things with Draco were strained. It had just been a lot in a small amount of time. His confession at the table, the truth about his mark, and then how badly he had taken the news that Harry had visions or… a connection to Lord Voldemort somehow. His immediate response was to leave and he had ordered her to his side like she didn't have a choice.
Is that what being Draco Malfoy's girlfriend was like? Is that what he expected from a… partner? That she hand over her autonomy and take directions from him about every aspect of her life? Maybe that is what he wanted, but that wasn't what she was going to give him. He wasn't exactly who she had pictured as the person she spent her life with either.
And yet, she couldn't picture it without him now either. Something, somehow, made what she and Draco had fit into whatever had been missing from her. What had been waiting for someone to find and… Draco had. And she had found parts of him that no one else had seen too. His excuse of being drunk and forgetting that he burned her house down still hurt her, but it was no worse than anything else he had done.
She hadn't forgotten about the Muggleborns he had captured and sold, where were they now? What happened to them? How many had been caught all because he was out there looking for her? And most importantly, would he do something like that again? Draco had changed, no matter what he said. Hermione had seen it, felt it, knew it. She might be able to doubt everything else, even her heart, but not her brain.
However he wasn't making any effort to get along with anyone else. It was almost as if Draco tried to stand out, to show that he wasn't one of them. She had to force him downstairs to eat with them and when she did he was so unpleasant that she wished she hadn't. It was embarrassing and she was constantly apologizing to everyone for his behavior while he shouted her name from the top of the stairs.
She just needed… time. To process.
She just needed to think it all through and sort it and get it right in her head and then… then things would be okay again. It was just hard when every time she turned around Draco was there and crowding her, hovering behind her and towering over her. She knew he just wanted her to turn around and say everything was okay and she still loved him, but… she just needed a chance to breathe before she found the air to tell him that.
So she sat with Harry and found that the break from their training and planning to talk like they used to, to just be friends again, was what she needed to work through everything else.
"It's over. I've known that for a long time, but I guess…" Harry sighed, his frame bending as he breathed out. "Now I feel it too."
"You never know, things might change." Wars changed things, but wars also ended. If they won, Harry and Ginny might still have a future ahead of them. Just like her and Draco and now… she felt ready to talk to him, tell him.
Harry looked at her from the side of his eye, his grim expression speaking volumes. He kicked a bit of sand with his shoe. It had holes in it and she could see green socks with golden snitches through them.
Dobby had made him those socks.
"Thanks, Hermione, really, but… if you want to go back inside you can. No sense in us both sitting out here and being miserable. At least one of us should be happy," he added, turning back to watch the darkening clouds.
Hermione licked her lips, tasting the salt of the ocean on them and rested her head on Harry's shoulder. "I said I'd stay with you and that's what I'm going to do. As long as you're here, I'm not going anywhere."
.
Draco pilfered the cabinets, looking for something to drink. He knew there had to be more than some goddamn wine in this house. Bill looked like the type that would need a stiff drink after the full moon, so he just needed to find the liquor. It was here, it had to be, but so far all he had come across was the red wine in the high cupboard.
He hated wine. It was his Father's preferred drink and Draco could remember the way it stained his teeth red after he'd finished a bottle. He had drank it before, at dinners and when there was nothing else like last summer at the villa, but it always left him with a headache and didn't have the same numbing effect as fire whisky.
Wine made him sad.
And Draco didn't want to be sad. He didn't want to be anything but drunk.
Because Granger wanted to spend her free time with her precious Potter instead of him. So, Draco was going to drink until he didn't care anymore. Or until he passed out, whichever came first.
"Fleur is going to throw a fit when she sees you in here again."
Weasley.
Fuck Weasley.
Draco opened another cabinet and started pushing tins out of the way.
"Go run and tell then, Weaslebee. Just get the fuck away from me."
Weasley snorted and Draco thought about breaking his nose. No, he didn't want Weasley's gross blood to get on his hand. The Weasel had been outside for the whole afternoon, trying to burn that stupid log again and Draco had hoped he would set his head on fire in the process.
Not that anyone would be able to tell with that revolting hair.
And Draco certainly wouldn't have come to help him.
"I'm surprised you're not off stalking Hermione."
Maybe he'd throw something…
"Your obsession with her is sick."
Draco slammed the door shut and turned around. "And yours is just pathetic. At least she actually wants me."
Except for today.
And last night.
And yesterday afternoon.
"Godric knows why," Weasley muttered and wrinkled his nose making his freckles jumble all together. "She's smart, Malfoy. She'll see through whatever lies you've told her that makes her think you're worth keeping around."
Draco smirked. "Well clearly I provide something she isn't getting elsewhere."
Weasley started to turn red and Draco felt a little bit better having taken out some of his inner turmoil on someone else. Weasley always had been an easy target, after all.
"Hermione is my best friend, I've known her for years. She's kind and caring and… sweet. She is the best person I know and you…" Weasley shook his head at Draco. "You treated her like shit for years. You made her cry, Malfoy—"
"So did you," he said darkly and crossed his arms over his chest. Weasley was starting to get to him. More than Draco wanted to admit.
"How does that make you feel? That the only reason she slept with you was because she wanted me?"
This goddamn motherfucker…
Draco started to see black dots blink into his vision.
"Oh did you forget about that?" Weasley was really fucking ugly when he smiled. "She was upset that I started dating Lavender and that's why she took up with you. Because she couldn't have me."
Granger had been crying that first night.
He knew she had been fighting with Weasley, but never cared to ask what it was about. Her falling out with Weasley had coincided with Weasley's disgusting relationship with Brown and he knew Granger had a… ugh, crush on the fucking ginger, but she hadn't… she didn't want to actually fu…
Shit. He felt like he was going to be sick and he hadn't even drank a drop yet.
Granger had wanted to have sex with him. Draco. It was his name she had moaned against the shelves, not Weasley's. She had propositioned him that night! She had… asked him to fuck her. It was weeks after, it wasn't because…
"You really thought she liked you? You? She hated you, Malfoy. I know I hurt her, leaving like I did and I know she went back to you because…" He looked at Draco in disgust. "But when the war is over, and you get what's coming to you," Draco's back stiffened at Weasley's dark expression, "Hermione will move on. And she will forget you."
He didn't know. There was no possible way that Weasley could know that was exactly what Granger had tried to do last year, what she wanted to do after she had seen his mark. She wanted to forget him. She wanted a life without him. And she could have one, if he was gone.
Draco could practically taste the poison on his tongue when he said, "You can play hero of the Order all you want, out there practicing at magic you'll never be good enough to control, but I'm not going anywhere, you phoenix-fucker."
"No?" Weasley laughed a little. "I don't need to control it, Death Eater. I just need to conjure it for a little while. Because the only thing better than killing you, is getting to do it twice."
Draco felt the blood rush out of his head and then back into it, deafening him as it pounded in his ears. The Order might be granting him clemency, but it was only for now and only because of Granger. These people were not his friends. They were not his allies. They would turn on him.
They would take Granger from him and they would kill him.
Well then, he would just have to do it first. Take Granger and then end Weasley's sorry existence. That was one life Draco had no problem taking. He would do it willingly. Enthusiastically, even. He hadn't forgotten what this prick had tried to do in the Room of Requirement last year.
Weasley got in his face, the smell of singed hair and thick smoke strong enough to choke Draco. "You're scum, Malfoy. You're less than scum actually." He looked at him like… like how Draco used to look at Weasley. "You're scum's servant."
Draco felt that old, strange sense of calm he used to right before he crucio'd someone. He wanted to do that to Weasley. He wanted to watch him shriek and writhe as the curse flayed the nerves from his bones. He felt like he didn't even need a wand to cast it, that it would come just as soon as he called it.
Draco's fingers twitched at his side.
Weasley was going to pay for that, but in the window over his shoulder Granger was walking up from the beach with Potter, smiling. Happy. He wasn't going to ruin her good mood. Not when it took her so long to get back into one after Weasley had snitched about her house. He'd make it up to her though. But first, he had to get her back on his side.
And that started… he glanced out the window again—now.
"I may not be fit to kiss the ground she walks on, but she lets me put my mouth on other things." He gave Weasley a cold smirk, baring his teeth. "You're right, she is sweet."
Weasley shoved him back as Potter opened the door for Granger. Draco fell back against the table, making sure to stretch his arm out to knock over the sugar bowl sitting in the middle so it looked worse than it was.
"You piece of SHIT!" Weasley pulled out his wand.
Draco held up his hands, playing innocent. "Just trying to get to my girl, Weasley, that's all. Didn't mean to bump into you."
Weasley sputtered as Granger threw him a dark look and hurried to Draco's side. He had a hard time keeping the grin off his face as she wrapped her arm around his body and helped him stand up straight. Draco faked a wince, as if his scars were still hurting him. He loved Granger's bleeding heart.
"You should be ashamed of yourself, Ron. You know he's still healing!"
"He was saying shit about you!"
"Just saying she was on her way back up here," Draco wrapped his arm around Granger's small shoulders. He had promised not to lie to Granger anymore, but technically, he was talking to Weasley.
Weasley pointed his finger at him, face reddening by the second. "You know damn well what you said!"
"What?" Draco snapped. "What did I supposedly say, Weasley?"
Weasley looked from Draco to Potter for support, but Potter merely shrugged. "What was it?"
Weasley turned back and glared at Granger's hands, clinging to Draco's clothes. "He said…" Draco cocked a brow up, daring him. "He said you were…"
"What, Ron?" Granger asked, irritated by his floundering.
"Sweet!" Weasley shouted. "He said you were…" He blushed. "Sweet."
Draco glanced down at Granger. She smiled up at him, lifted herself onto her toes and placed a soft kiss against his cheek.
He didn't need a drink anymore. And she didn't need her friends either. All they needed was each other and it seemed like Granger had finally remembered that. Thank fuck, because he had started to get nervous.
Frenchie ducked her head in from the sitting room. "It iz almost time. Ron can 'ou 'elp?"
Draco threw him a smug smirk as Weasley turned and stomped out of the room.
Granger turned her pretty face up to him. "Do you… want to listen with us? I'd like for you to."
Draco nodded. "Sure, kitten."
He'd do anything if it kept Granger by his side a little longer.
Maybe Weasley was the reason she was out crying that night, but Draco was the one she wanted now. And then too. She had wanted him just as much as he had wanted her. He knew it, because he could feel it in the way her cunt squeezed him as she came on it for the first time. And every time after.
Draco tightened his arm around her.
Granger was his. His girl. His world. His… only.
And only his.
.
The sitting room was crowded and hot with everyone crammed inside it. Draco was leaning against the doorway, declining to sit lest he touch someone's elbow squeezing onto the couch. Granger had no such qualms. She was on the end of the couch and at least the only person she was pressed up against was Frenchie who was married, female, and had never shown any interest in Granger other than a friendly one.
He still didn't like her. But he'd tolerate her sitting by his girl. As long as this radio program didn't last too long.
Granger had spent most of the day cooped up in Potter and Weasley's room and came out smelling like Snape's storage room. Even the hours outside hadn't completely washed it from her.
She was brewing something with them. Without him. Draco clenched his jaw.
"I've got it!" Weasley called over his shoulder. "Quiet—it's starting."
Potter and the other Weasley dropped their conversation as everyone focused on the cracking radio. Granger said something about the weather affecting the signal and Draco dismissed it with a well hidden roll of his eyes. Muggle contraptions were faulty, why wizards bothered trying to incorporate them into their lives was beyond him.
Weasley dropped into the chair across from his brother who gave him an approving nod. Weaselbee grinned, proud and happy. Happy because he was here with his family. Draco scowled. He wasn't sure when or if he would see his Mother and Father again.
He wasn't sure what he'd do if he did. He couldn't hurt Lucius too badly, not if he was the only thing standing in the way of the Dark Lord and his Mother. Draco glared up at his shorn hair, remembering the reason it was gone. He had healed from a cracked skull, his Father could too.
"We are starting tonight's broadcast off with the names of those reported missing or captured…"
Draco watched Granger's shoulders tense with each rise and fall of her breath as names were called out. He didn't know any of them, but with each one, a face of one of the Muggleborns he had sold to Umbridge flashed into his mind. Had their names been called out like this too? He pushed them from his mind and focused on Granger again.
The program went on, reporting new policies the Ministry had instituted on international travel along with a list of stores where supplies now outlawed could still be purchased using codewords.
It was… surprising how the resistance was still operating even with the strict measures placed upon them. But it wasn't enough. Most of this was geared towards helping people survive, not fight back. Their black market couldn't outfit an army and nothing less would be able to stop them—No. Him.
Draco was a Blood Traitor now. He crossed his arms, tucking his mark close to himself.
Granger was sitting with her back perfectly straight, just like she used to in lectures and Draco fell into an old pattern of watching her, hoping she would turn so he could catch her eye. Those quick, heated glances they used to share had become so distracting that he used to have to cheat off Blaise in classes they shared with the Gryffindors.
He hoped Blaise was… okay; he and Theo had always been close. Draco had chosen cronies over friends and kept Crabbe and Goyle as a buffer instead of forging a real connection with anyone. When Blaise joined the Quidditch team in their fifth year, Draco found that he actually liked having Blaise around and they started partnering on Inquisitorial Squad rounds, which annoyed Theo and just made Draco want to do it all the more.
He didn't know why he liked to get on Theo's nerves so much other than their competition was… fun. As much as Theo aggravated him and as much as he knew he irked him right back, they never… hated each other. It was just… Draco frowned. It was how they were raised. To compete, obtain, and win. No matter the cost.
Two years later and there was no Quidditch or stupid squads or Theo. Draco had never written to Blaise or told him what happened. The rumor that Theo had turned Blood Traitor was murmured, slithering from person to person. And so was the story of how the Malfoy heir had taken it upon himself to purge the bad blood before it poisoned others.
Blaise would know the truth, what Draco had done and why. He wondered if Blaise knew what happened to Death Eaters after they died. If he knew what Draco had really done to Theo, what he had turned him into by killing him.
He was pulled abruptly from his thoughts by the sound of laughter. The voice on the radio was now doing an impression of the Dark Lord with a headcold which everyone was enjoying immensely.
"I blew my nob-se off!"
Draco fought a small smile and was shaking his head a little when he caught Granger looking at him. Big doe eyes bright and shining. Merlin, she was beautiful when she smiled. She blinked those eyes, turning them darker and pulled her lip in between her teeth to bite it a little. Draco grinned and gave her a wink as the program ended. So that's why they started with the names, so they could finish on a light note.
To give people hope, when in reality, there was none.
The radio spat out static, buzzing harshly as the last of the laughter around the room died.
He wouldn't let that happen to Granger though. He hadn't come this far, done all of that shit, just to let her die.
Draco watched the older Weasley hold out a hand to help Frenchie up and give her a brief kiss before they bid them all goodnight. Weaselbee was fiddling with the radio to turn it off while Potter rubbed his head again and Granger looked on nervously.
Draco's mood soured. Is this what they were surviving on? False hope and a hero that looked like twice shat shit? Potter had been embarrassingly scrawny in their first year, making him easy pickings for someone like Draco, and now he was looking almost as weak. His pale face made his scar stand out and Draco looked away from it quickly, scared of who might be looking back.
He had felt it when the Dark Lord had seen through Potter's eyes and what Draco hadn't told them was it happened right as Potter touched Draco's mark. He might be a blood traitor, but he was still a Death Eater and there was only one way to stop being a Death Eater. If Draco didn't want that to be his fate, if he didn't want Granger's name to be read out on a list one day, there was only one way out.
"Granger," Draco snapped. "Let's go."
She let out an annoyed sigh and told Harry he needed to get some rest as she hugged him goodnight. Draco tensed, hating the two seconds that Potter had an arm around her, but then he dropped it and said, "Only if you do too. Don't stay up reading."
Granger smiled at Potter and Draco pulled himself up to his full height. "She won't." He took her elbow, pulling her to his side before she could hug Weasley. Like hell he was going to let that prick touch her and… Granger let him. Either because she wasn't planning on hugging Weasley or because she really was that tired, but either way she was leaving with him.
"Goodnight, Hermione!" The Weasel called as Draco guided her out of the room, letting his hand move from her arm to the small of her back as she started up the stairs.
Granger hovered over a step for a moment, and then pretended like she didn't hear him. Draco smirked, let his gaze fall to her round little ass as she climbed. He scooped her up in his arms as they reached the landing. His arm twitched a little with pain, but nothing he couldn't handle.
Nothing worth putting her down.
Granger squealed and Draco grinned down at her, carrying her inside their room and placing her carefully on the side of the bed.
"What was that for?" she giggled, kicking off her shoes. Something in him uncoiled at the sound of her laughter and he felt like he could breathe again. Granger leaned back, looking up at him through thick lashes.
Draco placed himself in front of her. "Do I need a reason? Or is being in love with you not enough now, Sweetheart?"
Granger's cheeks pinkened and he grinned.
"It's enough," she answered softly.
He really fucking hoped it was. It needed to be now, while she was happy and before anything else happened. He had thought about this in all the free time she hadn't been speaking to him and tonight had solidified his position. Draco's heart beat and tightened. "Enough to get you to leave?"
Her smile fell away. "Draco," she sighed. "We've talked about this. I can't just leave my friends—"
"You aren't really friends with Weasley, not anymore, and Potter's not making it through this war." Draco dropped all false pretenses. "You know it's true. He'll be lucky to last another three months and that's if the Dark Lord doesn't find him first."
"Harry's strong," Granger countered, but he could hear the concern in her voice. It bothered him, even if it meant he was right. "You don't know him like I do. He's been through more than you can imagine."
He wanted Granger to come with him. It was Potter that was keeping her here and Potter who would get her killed. Draco knelt down in front of her, knees in between her feet. He still had to dip his head to put her at eye level, so she could see how serious about this he was. How serious about her he was.
"And it's coming to an end. You're too fucking smart to pretend otherwise, Granger. In a fair fight do you really think Potter would win?"
Granger paused. Good.
Draco pressed on. "And do you really think the Dark Lord is going to fight fair?"
Granger's mouth opened, but her expression spoke for her. Her brilliant brain agreed with him. Even if her sweet heart didn't.
"I… There's… We are working on a way to… even the field."
He wasn't expecting that. Is this what she had been doing these past few weeks? Did they really have a way to weaken the Dark Lord?
His arm ached, a reminder of who his loyalty should belong to and that whatever Granger and her foolhardy friends were doing wasn't going to make a difference. Not when the Dark Lord had an army and another waiting for when that one fell. One that he couldn't desert from.
"Harry needs me and I know you don't like it, but I need to help him, Draco. I… I have to. I can't and I won't leave him to fight alone. He's my best friend."
Draco's chest felt tight, his rage and love battling in his chest. "And what about me, Sweetheart? What about us?"
Granger's eyes went big. "You're… you're important to me too, Draco."
"Because I'm your boyfriend?" He grinned, sticking the tip of his tongue between his teeth. He just couldn't help himself. He never could with her.
Granger blushed again and dropped her eyes. "Because you're so much more than that."
His heart thumped so hard it hurt. He took her hands in his and held them tight. "Then how can you ask me to stand by and watch you run off into a war you can't win? You're fighting for a lost cause!"
"Funny," Granger snapped. "I thought I was fighting for a future for us."
"Getting yourself killed in a war isn't a future I want to live in," Draco snarled, then took a breath as he saw hers narrow and burn behind her lashes. He didn't want to fight. Not with her, not in this war, not at all. "Do you think I wanted to do all the things I had to? Do you think I liked it?"
Granger was listening, actually listening to him. So Draco decided to be honest.
"I did all of that for you. For us. Granger… I want it too. But that future you're thinking of… it's not possible." He felt her pulse skip a beat. "Not during the war and not after. Because I did do all of those things. And I'm not sorry. I'll never be sorry. Not if it means that I get to have you. And I'll take the future I can get, as long as it's with you."
She was still, perfectly still. Any other time Draco would be pleased, but right now he would give anything, everything for Granger to throw her arms around him and tell him she loved him and she wanted to be with him too.
Why wasn't she saying it? Didn't… didn't she want that too? Of course she did. She… she did. He fucking knew she did.
"You're not sorry?"
Draco looked deep into her doe eyes. He didn't blink. His voice didn't shake as he said, "If I could go back, do it all again; the lies, the… pain, I would. I wouldn't change a single fucking thing. Because if the smallest difference meant that I wasn't right here, right now…"
He couldn't be sorry, couldn't go down that path. He had spent so long wishing he had done things differently, going over every interaction, every decision, descending into the darkest depths of himself trying to fix it all and… it had nearly driven her away. He couldn't risk that now.
He'd almost lost her. So many times. At the Manor, after Crookshanks… He had thought Bellatrix would do the same thing to her. He still felt that fear, that terror. He'd never forget it. Some wounds didn't heal, they just scarred.
Draco's thumb glided over the thin M on her arm. A single letter, a single mistake and he could lose her forever. Just because of the blood in her veins. He didn't need a mark or a curse to turn him into a mindless monster, not having Granger in his life already did that. He wasn't going back to that. Not now, not ever.
They were meant to be together and Draco didn't get forever with her, he only got this life. He was going to do everything, anything in his power to make sure that it was as long as it could be. For both of them.
He raised his eyes back to hers to find them dark and wary, searching every inch of his face looking for some further information. Goddamn, did this girl's brain ever stop spinning? His throat bobbed, his eyes blinked, and his mouth opened to let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.
She'd figure it out eventually and this honesty thing was sort of… working for them. Now that she was talking to him again. Draco just hoped he wouldn't fuck it up too bad.
"I'll do something stupid to keep you with me."
Granger chocolate eyes darkened. "Like burn down another house?"
Draco felt her hands tense in his. "I'd freeze time if it kept you by my side."
They had reached an impasse. Both wanting the same thing, both unwilling to compromise to get it. Draco knew he couldn't change her mind. She was too fucking stubborn. He couldn't outthink her or trick her really either. But… he had always been good at finding avenues others failed to see.
The lessons with his Father hadn't been entirely useless then.
"Draco, I… I know that with each day our chances… dwindle." That was fucking putting it lightly, but Draco held his tongue. He let Granger talk and… he listened. "I know there is a decent chance, more than that really, that we won't… all make it through this. But Harry… He shouldn't face it alone."
Potter. The 'Chosen' One. Chosen for what? To forever be a pain in Draco's ass? At least until the fucker was in the ground.
Draco tilted his head. "And after?" he asked. "Once Potter dies, you'll leave? You'll come with me?"
Her mouth opened and a small, unsure sound came out.
Draco inched forward. "What is left for you here? The resistance will fall after Potter. You know that. But we don't have to. We can have a future, Granger, if we just take it." His grip tightened on her hands. She was thinking, no… considering. Draco's heart leapt in his chest. "What did this world ever give you that it hasn't taken back?"
His eyes searched her face as he resisted the temptation to dip into her mind. He'd give all the gold in his vaults, whatever his Father hadn't stolen out of them, to see inside her, to know just what to say to get her to—
"You." She twined her fingers through his.
"That's right, Sweetheart," Draco said in the same tone he had used to encourage her on the training field. "Give us a chance, give me a chance. To be with you. To give you what you deserve." He paused, knowing what he was doing and… taking the calculated risk saying it. "Potter would want you to be happy."
Granger's brows creased and he watched her think for a few paralyzing seconds. He counted them, heart pounding and lungs burning. If this worked… it would all be worth it. Betraying his family. leaving them to whatever fate his treason condemned them to would be worth it, worth her.
He was so focused watching her that he hadn't thought about what he looked like, on his knees and asking her to spend her life with him. He glanced down at their laced fingers. If he still had his signet ring, he would have…
"One rule."
"Anything!" Draco lurched forward, almost jumping to his feet.
Granger looked deep into his eyes. "You won't do anything that will cause or bring about Harry's… death."
Potter, not Weasley. Draco could… live with that. Because Potter sure as fuck wasn't.
"Done." He said it easily, simply. Not a moment of hesitation. She looked shocked, blinking those big eyes of hers. Draco leaned in and kissed her, lips locking onto hers passionately. Because, fuck, did he love this girl. His girl. And now he'd get to for the rest of his life. And she'd be there at the end, to stop that from happening to him.
"I mean it, Draco," Granger said seriously as he stood back up, pulling her to her feet with him.
"I know." He was smiling.
She was smiling. Although she was trying not to. "If you hurt—"
Draco slid his hand around the side of her neck, tilting her face up with his thumb. Leaning down he whispered, "If hurting Potter hurts you, you know I won't do it."
He leaned in close to her. Granger pushed him back, but stayed in his arms. "You did though. You hurt me when you took my home away. That's where my parents—"
"You mean the Muggles who ran off and left their daughter alone?" He knew the bitterness in his tone wasn't directed at her, but his own bitterness towards his parents. And hers too. He saw the tickets, that they were fleeing to Australia instead of trying to find their only child who had gone to war.
Granger's tawny curls tangled as she tilted her head. "They didn't run off. I… I obliviated them and sent them away."
Fuck.
Shit.
Fuck.
And he had…
"Oh Sweetheart… I… I didn't know."
Maybe he should be sorry then. He was wrong about them… Maybe he was wrong about a lot of things.
Granger took a shaky breath. "It wasn't… right to meddle with their minds, but…" She blinked, looking up at him. "It kept them safe."
He understood. More than she'd ever know.
Draco reached up to tuck her tousled hair behind her ear. She didn't need to hide, not from him.
"You did the right thing," he said softly. "And I… didn't." Her eyes sparked. "But I'll fix it. You know I will. We can go to them. And I'll… set it right."
It was the least he could do, after what he'd done and after what she'd agreed to.
"You mean it?" Granger asked breathlessly.
Draco's mouth twitched. "Sealed with a kiss."
He kissed her, tasting the sweetness of her lips and giving her an idea of what the future held for her. He pushed her back a step, making her legs press into the side of the bed.
"Draco— Draco," she repeated as he pulled his shirt off over his head. It slid easily over the short hair. He was… starting to get used to it. Granger seemed to like it and that made it not so bad after all. "I… I actually am pretty tired tonight." Her mouth pulled flat in an apologetic expression.
"I know," Draco murmured and started unbuttoning her jeans. A line of pretty lacy knickers was peeking out over the top. Cute. And on her? Downright adorable. Had she worn them for him? Knowing how he felt about her in white lace?
But he knew better than to push her tonight. He had already gotten what he really wanted. "That's alright, kitten." He kissed the tip of her nose and lifted her shirt over her head. "I just want to feel you next to me. All of you."
Granger's cheeks flushed. She nodded and unhooked her bra, peeling it from her arms as Draco undressed and followed her into their bed. He slid his hand between her legs, cupping her softness like he did almost every night now. Just holding it, her. And Granger, like the good fucking girl she was, let him.
Laying there, in the dark, Draco breathed deeply, cinnamon and vanilla smotheringly strong. Granger was asleep in minutes, but Draco lay awake for a while longer, thinking about the future, what it would be like with Granger, wishing it would come sooner rather than later.
The thunder rolled outside, low and long. The storm would hit, but not tonight. And if there was ever a time for foolish dreams, it was here. He never dared to hope, he knew what was coming, but at least now he knew he'd have Granger. And maybe… she would have him. Without his family, her friends, without the war or the world, perhaps he couldchange, be the man he wanted to be for her.
Not the drunken wreck she'd started fucking because she was sad, but someone she wanted to stand beside. Someone she could be proud of. And he would be, just as soon as he worked through a few… issues.
Draco closed his eyes. Tonight a different dead face floated there in the darkness. Even through the rot and decay, that stupid lightening bolt scar was still recongizable. It wasn't reanimated though, just laying there, something… slithering behind it. He wasn't entirely sure what brought the memory to his mind, but Draco fell asleep replaying the same conversation over and over.
"They don't know Potter. I do… I know his habits, his traits, his friends. I know what kind of man he is."
Lord Voldemort stopped walking and trained his slitted eyes down at Draco. His voice was little more than a hiss when he spoke. "And that is?"
"...A dead one… A dead one… A dead one…"
.
A/N: Chimera- (in Greek mythology) a fire-breathing female monster with a lion's head, a goat's body, and a serpent's tail.
Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews. Hearing back from you means the world to me so THANK YOU!