Disclaimer: If this were mine, I'd never want anything ever again. But anything you recognize is not mine, I assure you.
A/N: HUZZAH! An update! And I know it's been almost a month, not two weeks like I promised :[ I'm sorry. Please REVIEWREVIEWREVIEW. I appreciate it so much.
Hermione:
She had forgotten what his cheek felt like beneath her thumb. The way his lips parted after they kissed, his tongue smoothing over hers.
They hadn't had sex yet, but she could remember that; the inside of his thighs, with the dusty smattering of curly hair leading up to his cock.
"Hermione?"
"Mmm."
"Where do we go?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean…you live at the Weasley's right now…and I live here in my…I stretch to use the word "home", but that's what it is, really."
"Can't I just stay here?"
"Do you want to?"
She hummed quietly, thinking in her mind of what she wanted. On the one hand, the thought of moving to where Draco had grown-where he had run down the stairs for breakfast and opened the back door to go out and play in the mud-excited her. She wanted to breathe where he breathed, and to have him want her there.
But she also wanted a place that was only theirs. Where they had memories that no one else had made there first.
"Uhmm…" she rolled over on her back and stretched her arms to the ceiling. "I want…"
She let herself drift off and concentrated on the feeling of her stomach expanding, her throat filling with air and the concave empty feeling of it disappearing.
"I'm just happy right here." She replied finally, but he had fallen asleep.
Draco:
Draco had heard before that the longer you are with someone, the less aware of his or her presence you become, but this was not true for him. He felt Hermione everywhere he went.
He could run into her forty times a day and he would still sense the heat radiating off her skin, could still do the math in his head of the distance he'd have to move to brush his shoulder against hers.
When they sat down together every night to read-her a worn paperback and he The Daily Prophet-she was so close that he could smell the wool of her sweater. From the corner of his eye he could see the pulse of her heart beating behind her ear.
There was an expression he once heard, while in Hogwarts. He was walking to the common room, History of Magic under his arm, when he heard two people arguing.
Hiding behind a pillar, he listened.
"It's just weird, Paul." The girl said. "I couldn't get away from him fast enough. How could he not love me anymore?"
"It's ok." He whispered. "Shh."
He could hear the crinkle of fabric as he imagined the boy's hands pulling her close.
"Even now, I can't stop thinking about him. He's gotten under my skin."
He had ran away then, feeling odd about being in their business, though normally he had no qualms about eavesdropping.
It had struck him as remarkable-another thing that he normally didn't allow himself to feel-that someone could be so significant that they became a part of you.
But he knew now. He understood. He could look over at Hermione as she flipped a page of her book and feel the paper beneath his fingers. When she scratched her cheek, her skin was under his fingernails as well.
When she had come back into his life, he realized that she had never actually left. The reason he had tried, though, was because she had gotten under his skin and this had frightened him before. Now he saw if differently. She was under her skin, yes, but his love for her started at his heart and moved through him to his fingertips and toes, carried by the blood.
It was magic, what they had. And though he had lived in the magical world for his whole life, he realized that being with her was the only time he ever really appreciated it.
-X-
Draco is looking down at his wand when he hears someone come in, unannounced.
He wraps his hand around it and stands, pointing in the general direction of the intruder.
But it is only Hermione, a scarf wrapped around her neck that she is beginning to take off, her cheeks flushed and a smile spreading on her face.
"Put that down, you ridiculous man." She puts the scarf on the kitchen table and hugs him tightly.
He sets his wand next to her scarf and hugs her back. She smells unfamiliar, as if she's come to him from a distant place.
"Where have you been?" he searches his mind for clues or distinctions she's given him this week, but comes up with nothing.
"I got a job!" she squeals and tucks her hair behind an ear. It's grown so long, and falls in waves over her breasts.
"A job? Where?"
He had forgotten that the world didn't revolve around them, like it did in Ireland. He, too, would have to go back to his job eventually.
"Flourish and Blotts!" she jumped on her toes a little, smiling even wider. "They remembered me from school, and they're a little short handed, given the season."
"The season?"
"It's December, Draco!" she swatted him playfully. "Christmas?"
"Oh," he grinned. "Right, yeah."
"Aren't you happy for me?" she let her smile fall a tiny bit. It broke his heart.
He picked her up under her arms and lifted her up, placing her down on the countertop near the sink. Softly, slowly, carefully he kissed her top lip and then bottom lip.
"I'm ecstatic."
"Well." She whispered, kissing him back. "I am too."
She pulls away but he isn't ready to let her go just yet. He drinks her in, clamping his lips down on her collarbone and sucking lightly. He can feel her breathing out in short breaths through her nostrils, the light air rustling his hair and crawling down his spine.
He makes a small noise that startles them both, and his fingers move lightly up her arms and through her hair. He watches her, her eyes closed and mouth parted slightly. She moves her hands to his shirt, curling them in the fabric. He buries his face in her hair.
Their kisses are getting more desperate now and there isn't enough room on the counter-top. She seems to see the same problem that he does and wraps her legs around his hips, sliding off the counter as he turns and starts walking. She's nibbling and biting his ear until he feels as though he'll burst. He's growing and swelling against her stomach, which pushes against him and makes him moan.
He can't make it further than the table, so he lets her fall on her back, climbing on top of her and tugging at the hem of her shirt.
They lay like that for a minute, completely silent. It's been so long since either of them had been this careless with each other-the first time they had not walked around on eggshells in each others company.
"I want to touch you." He whispers and moves his hand up her stomach. "Can I touch you?"
She nods, squirming beneath him.
"Here?" he whispers, skittering at the air around her breast. She nods again and he cups her breast in his hand, lifting up and brushing his thumb over her nipple. Through her shirt he can feel it harden and she exhales loudly at the sensation. She moves her hands over his shoulders, pulling down a little, but he resists. He finds that he wants to dominate her, in this small way. He wants to show her he can be strong, for both of them.
He's quick to move his hand under her shirt and cup her again, skin to skin this time. He can feel her get hungry beneath him.
"What about…here?" his hand has moved to the top of her jeans, pushing the button halfway out.
She starts, her hips bucking so the button comes out completely. His eyes snap up and they lock a gaze for a second. Still looking at her, he pulls her pants down to her ankles, and then off completely. She's wearing red panties, with lace around the top, as if she knew today was going to be the day they made love.
Kissing her stomach, he played around with the top of her underwear and then pulled those off as well.
Her hands explore his back, shoulders, chest, and stomach, finally resting on the back of his neck. She tugs a little, trying to get him to kiss her, but he smoothes his thumb over the soft skin of her stomach instead. Focusing on a single patch, he kisses and bites and then moves up. He takes her breast in his mouth and clamps down, sucking gently. She moans and all he wants is to be inside her, to come together.
Hermione had once told him that when they were together like this, it was the only time she felt small and fragile. That she liked feeling tiny under his weight. He concentrated on that now, and all the times before this that were so precious and fragile.
She's moving her hands on his pants, pushing and pulling and tugging until they, like hers, are on the floor beneath them. His boxers hit the floor soon after. The linoleum is smooth and reflects the light that bears down on them. The table creaks under their weight.
His arousal springs up between them and he groans with need. Carefully, slowly, five seconds, four, three, two, he moves his fingers over her folds and feels how wet she is.
"Oh, Hermione. You want me, don't you?" he whispers in her ear, but doesn't remember how he got up there.
"Yes." She breathes. "Please."
And that's the final straw. He is quick at first, pushing in all the way and marveling at how tight she is, her walls gripping and sliding around him.
"Oh." She whooshes, and he knows what she means.
They still remember each other.
They still fit together.
"Yes." He agrees and moves his hips in a slow circle, watching her face as she closes her eyes up at the ceiling.
He grips her hip in his palm and pushes in deeper, only to pull back out and repeat the motion. He can't get used to this. He can't-
"Faster." She moans and he complies.
Their hips snap back and forth with each other, skin slapping skin. It's the only sound between them but it's enough. She's making incoherent words and noises slip past the gates of her lips, her eyes still closed, and he can barely hold on much longer.
"Fuck!" he cries out as he comes, exploding and all of his thoughts erasing from his mind.
His breathing is ragged, his heartbeat humming over hers.
He keeps going, feeling himself settle down, and she follows quickly, screaming and gripping his arms.
Exhaustion collapses on him and he falls on top of her, hoping he isn't crushing her.
"Oh, Draco." She whispers, pushing hair from his sweaty forehead. "Thank you."
He would have found that strange, coming from anyone else. But he knows what she really is saying.
"You're welcome." He whispers back and puts his palm over her heart.
She returns the gesture, and they lay there, listening with their hands to the love they had for each other.
Hermione:
Draco is in the shower, and she's sitting on the couch, curled up and content with reading. The water patters on the floor, and she can hear it through the closed door.
She lets it become white noise as she is immersed in her story, but soon the story becomes white noise as well. Her mind is thrumming, and everything she has blocked out for months comes rushing all around her, ghosts and monsters pick her up to play…
She was running, her legs heated from all of the exercise. Ron was huffing beside her and she felt a rush of emotion for him, remembering their kiss just moments before.
"Hermione, down!" he yelled and she screamed as a curse skimmed over her head.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her around a pillar, throwing hexes and jinxes sporadically.
"We have to get out there! We have to help Harry!" she screamed, and a fire erupted somewhere, she could smell the smoke and feel the heat.
He didn't respond, but started running again and she followed without questioning it.
"Granger! Little Mudblood!" came a screech and Ron turned to her, just as Bellatrix came around the corner.
She and Ron drew their wands in her direction, but she was too quick.
"Expelliarmus!" she yelled and Ron's wand flew from his hand.
Hermione didn't lower her wand, or check to see if Ron was ok. Her heart ached at the thought of him being disarmed and helpless, but you can't take chances in war. You have to trust yourself.
Bellatrix paced around her, and she followed her with her eyes and wand. They circled around each other like cats but Ron did nothing. She couldn't look and she assumed the worst.
"I just saw your parents." She hissed, but Hermione knew it was a lie. She didn't respond. "What, don't believe me?" she gave a cruel smile, and Hermione braced herself for the worst. "I killed them." She whispered.
"No!" she made herself get out.
Bellatrix laughed cruelly and when she was least expecting it-it always happened like that, didn't it- she fired a curse at Hermione.
She felt herself be pulled back, her elbows hitting the floor. She finally let herself look, and it was Ron, starting at her with wide eyes.
When she looked up again, Bellatrix was gone.
"Ron! My parents!" she whispered and he shook his head.
"Hermione, no. She was lying to you."
But Hermione was shaking, her fears overwhelming her.
"I have to check, Ron. I have to-"
"Hermione, Harry is waiting for us!" He stood and lifted her off the ground with him.
"No, Ron! Stop!" she pulled her arm from his hand as he tried to drag her off running again. "I have to check! I have to!"
And even though it was not the right thing to do, even though her heart twanged as she watched him disappear as she faded, she disapparated in a flash.
She was at her house in a matter of seconds. The lawn had grown too much and it was too quiet. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and held it out, lighting up the path before her.
She walked inside. The door creaked at her entry, which made her heart jump to her throat.
"Mom?" She called. The lights were off and there was a fine layer of dust everywhere. "Dad?"
There was no answer.
She walked into her kitchen and lowered her wand. Slipping it in her pocket, she walked to the fridge and opened it. Her parents had cleaned it out before their trip to Australia but there was a bottle of water, half full, on the bottom shelf in the back. She took it out and shut the fridge.
The water was lukewarm and the fridge was on low. She tried to wrap her mind around how long it had been since they left, and if they had turned the fridge off. Whether they had put the house up for sale when they left their life behind.
A noise behind her caused her to turn and drop the water.
"Hello, pretty."
In the dark, Hermione's eyes dilated and she tried to focus on the woman before her.
"Bellatrix." She seethed, her wand out in a matter of seconds.
The woman raised her hands, which were empty. She grinned a horrible display of teeth and Hermione shivered.
"I'm unarmed. I didn't come to kill you."
"And yet you lured me here…" it wasn't a definite statement, and Hermione was ashamed at how much like a question it came out.
"Yes." She said and her smile began to grow even more.
Hermione circled around Bellatrix, keeping her wand at her throat. She inspected every inch of her, looking for hidden weapons or devices that would send their position to others.
In her mind she knew she should leave, but she couldn't. She was fixated on the crazy black hair, the cruel and empty eyes. What could she want from her? Why wasn't she with Voldemort waiting for Harry?
"You have a minute to give me a reason as to why I shouldn't kill you."
It was silent. Bellatrix said nothing, but continued to grin, a secret prize hidden behind her teeth.
Hermione was overwhelmed. Her better judgment finally caught up with her and she put her wand away, focusing on a spot and prepared to-
"I really did kill them, you know."
She stayed in her spot, not even daring to pull out her wand.
"I don't believe you." She said simply.
"I have no reason to lie."
It was so unlike them to be so calm. Just days or months or maybe even minutes before this woman had tortured her, questioned her about the security of the horcrux that was now destroyed.
"Where are they then, Bellatrix?" Hermione asked, fire curling under her tongue. "I don't see them."
But then Bellatrix opened her robes and she saw what she hadn't before. Her mind filled with imagery of her parents, still and pale like the corpses they were. The images rewinded to them moments before they died, then dying, and then laying there still. Bellatrix hadn't been lying. She had killed them.
"No!" She screamed and her nails raked down her skin. "No, please, God no."
Bellatrix laughed, a high cruel laugh, and just as she was about to disappear again, Hermione pulled her wand out and screamed.
"Avada Kedavera!"
And then she was lying on the floor of her kitchen, which Hermione could remember sweeping as a child, her mother singing and washing the dishes, her father lying on the ground cold and still, her mother's hand wrapped around his like an afterthought…
Her breathing slowed and she looked down at Bellatrix. Her face was frozen with undeserved happiness. Hermione spat on her face.
And then her mind, as if it had been driving through passing fog, cleared. She couldn't remember what had happened until she blinked and saw the woman dead before her.
Who had killed her? And then the realization that she had hit her and she was lost. Her parents weren't dead. They were in Australia, touring an unknown place as unknown people who didn't have a child…who didn't know her at all.
There was no way they had been traced. No way they had been killed.
Hermione wanted to sob but didn't know how. She hated Bellatrix. She had deserved to die. But she had not wanted to be the one to kill her. She didn't like firing jinxes, much less killing curses.
"Oh God, what have I done?"
She shoved her wand in her pocket and turned for a moment, putting her head in her hands. She could tell no one. She couldn't leave Bellatrix here.
She walked back over to the corpse and took her robe in her hand. Closing her eyes she focused and apparated.
She never told anyone.
Her eyes were watering but she didn't want to cry. Mark had told her she shouldn't feel guilty for something that wasn't truly in her power.
And yet, though the war had been over for years, she had not gone to find her parents and reverse the Memory Charm. She couldn't look at them and pretend everything was the same when it wasn't. How could she tell them she had murdered someone in their name?
So she carried it with her, instead. She placed Bellatrix's body next to another Death Eater, and let someone else claim the kill.
And when she ran off to find Ron, when she fought side by side with him and then held Harry after it was all over, she pretended to be relieved. Then Ron was with her all the time, asking if she was ok until she didn't want to answer anymore and he assumed instead.
Something had shaken loose when she killed Bellatrix. She had shoved her love for Ron out of her body in order to make a place for her guilt.
"Are you ok?"
She looked up and saw Draco, shirtless and wearing long pants.
"I have to tell you something."
He raised an eyebrow and sat down next to her. She took his hand and told him everything.