Edited April 6, 2016.
Day 265
"Why won't you call me Hermione?" she asked, sitting on the edge of his bed. Due to her request five days ago, they now took their midnight tea in his room. He didn't complain, and she was careful not to spill the hot beverage all over his floor.
"Why do you call me Draco?"
She frowned. "That doesn't answer my question."
Shrugging, the blond sank further down in his bed. "No, it doesn't. I'm not sure why you choose to use my first name."
"Because we're on civil terms," she replied, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "You saved my life so I figured we were on a first name basis. Apparently it's just me."
"I called you Hermione when I dragged you out of that cell," he remarked, remembering the time clearly.
"Yes, but these days I can barely remember that. Is there some sort of appeal to calling me Granger?"
He shrugged. Tonight they hadn't gone to bed like normal, sleeping until she woke with nightmares. He invited her in to talk, opening up a whole new level of conversation that they hadn't quite had before. When midnight came around he prepared the tea as usual, and she brought it back to the room while he cleaned. They had been sitting in there for almost a half hour now, Hermione perched uncomfortably on the edge of the bed while he lounged about.
"You've always been Granger," he remarked, closing his eyes. "Even in Azkaban when we needed each other to survive. You've always been Granger, never Hermione. It's foreign to even say your name."
"Then you should try using it more," she replied, smiling at him. "I would like it if you tried."
"Why?"
"Because you used to call me Granger when you hated me and you were making fun of me. In Azkaban we addressed each other this way but now I feel like we've moved past petty disagreements. I use your correct name because to me it's something new to experience. It's like a doorway into something else. Now we don't hate each other."
The blond nodded. "Okay, fine. I'll use your name if you relax."
"What do you mean relax? I am relaxed."
Draco scoffed, opening one eye to stare at her. "You've been sitting upright like that for the past half hour or more. Relax a little. You back has to be hurting."
"I'm fine."
He rolled his eyes, reaching out to gently grab her wrist. Her eyes widened, glancing at the cup of tea in her hand. Expect for the first night she came in here to find Draco in the throws of a nightmare, she hadn't sat properly on the bed. It was like forbidden territory, something she couldn't quite will herself to do, as though sitting there would be like crossing boundaries. "Relax. You can sit on more than a centimeter of the bed you know."
"I don't know about that," she sighed, dropping her gaze.
Draco smirked, reaching up to grab the tea out of her hand and place it on the bedside table. He then grabbed her other wrist and gently pulled her down on the bed beside him, ignoring her surprised gasp.
"Draco!" she exclaimed, tumbling onto the bed beside him. She was closer than expected, practically right next to him. Immediately she scooted back from him, putting an adequate amount of space between them again, though she didn't miss his amused smirk.
"Hmm?"
She blushed, rocking awkwardly on the sheets beside him. "You don't find this awkward?"
"It's not awkward unless we make it awkward. It was worse when you were balancing dangerously on the edge of the bed there."
"I was fine you know."
"Sure, fine," he replied sarcastically, closing his eyes. "Relax Hermione, would you? I haven't given you a reason to not trust me."
She was quiet for many moments, watching the blond breathe quietly beside her. He looked at peace, completely comfortable with the idea of her sitting beside him on the bed. He wasn't making a fuss about it at all.
So why am I?
Hermione let her body relax, sinking into the sheets. Sure, they could keep talking, but he seemed content with their current situation and she wouldn't argue. His bed was comfortable, even better than hers, laden with exquisitely comfortable pillows and the softest sheets. He really didn't sell himself short of anything, debt or not. They seemed like a newer set of her own sheets.
She closed her eyes, exhaling happily. Strangely, it wasn't so odd to lay beside Draco after all.
"Hermione- Granger, hey, wake up."
She could feel the jostle of her shoulder, piercing through the subconscious and the nightmare. Eyes flying open she shoved the figure away from her, delusional and uncertain what was going on.
"Hey- calm down. It's just me."
Blinking through the darkness, she reached out her hand slowly and connected with another person, her hand resting upon a toned chest. She blinked repeatedly, the memory of where she was finally coming back.
"Draco?" she asked, searching for his familiar blond hair in the dark.
"Well at least you remember it's me. I was beginning to worry you'd clock me in the face when I tried waking you up."
Hermione frowned, reaching blindly for a light. He seemed to sense her movements, and a light from the other side of the bed came on. She glanced around at her surroundings.
"I didn't mean to fall asleep in here."
"I did too, so you can quit worrying. I didn't even realize we were asleep until you hit me in the head with your arm."
Blushing, she wiped her eyes to rid herself from the drowsiness of sleep. Her nightmare lingered in the back of her mind, but she tried to ignore it.
"Sorry."
He shrugged, looking tired and a bit disheveled from sleep. "It's a bit different to wake up with someone beside you after the nightmare, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"I know the feeling. I think I was having one too. Yours just woke me. You never screamed, but you did hit me in the head so…"
"So I never got as deep into the nightmare as usual," she muttered. "It wasn't as bad as usual."
Draco actually smiled at that. "Good, that's good. It's a start right?"
"They haven't been as bad since I came here," she admitted. "I mean, at Harry's I never got a good night's sleep. I wouldn't say that I've slept peacefully every night since I've been here, but they are more tolerable."
"And they will go away," Draco said, causing her to quirk an eyebrow. "I've told you before, my nightmares don't just stem from Azkaban."
Yawning the girl nodded, glancing at the clock. It was well-past three in the morning, but she didn't feel tired anymore. Now she was too awake, jostled by Draco straight out of the nightmare. Sitting up hesitantly she stretched before pulling her knees to her chest.
"What was your nightmare about?"
He frowned, the lighthearted mood disappearing from the room. "I don't really think it's something we need to discuss. We don't delve into the details of your nightmares."
Hermione frowned, jabbing him lightly in the side. "You're so defensive, you know that? You carry a lot on your shoulders, but you never let any of it off. How are you ever going to feel better if you don't share some of the load?"
Brushing her hand away, he shook his head. "It's my grief Hermione, the problems that I need to face. No one can help me change my past- my mistakes."
She paused a moment, studying him. "You know, you want me to share all the time because you know that it will make me feel better. Perhaps it's time you stop preaching and take your own advice."
"You have no reason to listen to my problems."
"Of course I do! You offered yourself up to help me. It's the least I can do in return, since you refuse any other help."
Draco shook his head, closing his eyes again. "Let it be. I'm not going to disturb you further."
"I'll sit on you if you don't start talking," she argued childishly. "Come on Draco, even a little. You tell me all the time that I will never get better if I don't open up. It's the same for you."
"Why do you care about the details Hermione? I'm sure you already know the basics. Why delve into the details?"
"Well, I know part of it has to do with your family and the fallout. I know finances are bothering you extremely, even if you don't talk about it. You have your family's investments resting on your shoulders now and I'm sure those are lengthy and extremely unbalanced from the war. It would be surprising if you had those in order yet. I also know, just from personal experience, that you get attention in the papers all the time, but none of it is exceptionally positive. Harry told me about an article commending you for saving my life, but other than that there hasn't been a lot of positivity sent in your direction. It has to eat at your self-esteem. Plus-"
She was silenced as a hand came to rest over her mouth, the blond beside her groaning loudly. "You're a little too intuitive, you know that?"
"Did I hit the basics?" she questioned, gently pulling his hand away. She kept her grip on his wrist, fingers skimming the skin for a moment. He frowned, tensing at her movements.
"Mostly, yes. What are you doing?"
Frowning, she ran her fingers over his pale, smooth skin again. Slowly her eyes danced up to his, and he already knew the question lingering on her tongue.
"Where is your Dark Mark? I've never noticed before that it isn't there."
He retracted his arm, turning the sensitive inner skin away from her eyes. "I glamour it so people don't see it every day. I renew it whenever the mark begins to show."
Undeterred by his determination to hide the blank skin she scooted closer and extended her arm, grabbing his wrist once more. Draco tensed a second time, not only because she was persistent, but also because she was leaning over his body.
Again she ran her fingers over the smooth skin of his arm. "When did you start doing that?"
"Long before Azkaban," he admitted tensely. "After the fall of Voldemort, before the trials sentenced me to Azkaban I glamoured my arm every day. Everyone knows it's there, hidden beneath my shirt or a spell, but I feel less exposed if you can't see the details."
"You're afraid of it."
He frowned, attempting to pull away again. She remained firm on his arm, still half bent over his body. "I'm not afraid of the tattoo. It has no power anymore- but it isn't something I'm particularly fond of. It was a mistake on my part to ever take it."
"But it's a part of you," she mutters, looking up at his eyes. "I don't love all of my scars, but I don't glamour them. The word your aunt once carved into my arm is my least favorite scar of all, but I've never once tried to cover it. My scars made me who I am. They have made me stronger."
Draco glanced down towards her arm, the one he knew held the ugly word. He never looked for it whenever they were together; he already knew the very details of that scar after watching his aunt painstakingly carve it into her arm in a messy scrawl. He always knew it was there, a blemish on her near perfect skin, but he never dared to look.
Reaching out he gently grabbed her arm, flipping it over to reveal the patch of skin he so often ignored. Looking up he met her eyes.
"This is a scar," he said, indicating to her arm. "This is a battle scar, something you have overcome and survived. You got it because you were standing up against your enemies for something you believed in, even when it may have cost you your life. That's an act of bravery Hermione, the kind of scar people want to show off and talk about. What I have is a tattoo, a mistake. When I was young I wanted one more than anything so I could brag about it like my father. But taking the Dark Mark was the worst mistake of my life. It's not a scar that someone inflicted on me. I may have been scared at the time but I took it by personal choice. No one forced me to take it that day. It's a mistake, but it's not a scar worthy of anything. It's a blemish, one I can't forget and I'll hide it forever if I must, because I don't think I can stand to look at it again."
"You're very hard on yourself," she pointed out, covering her scar. "I'm not proud of my scar because it's something to show off or to be proud of in the first place. It simply means I survived. That's what your tattoo symbolizes too, whether or not you recognize that."
He sighed, letting go of her arm. She followed unison, and together they shifted away from one another again, replacing the typical amount of personal space that always existed between them.
"Maybe you'll un-glamour it sometime," she continued, closing her eyes. "I think I would like to see it sometime."
His head snapped over, turning to glance at the very calm witch. "Why would you ever want to look at something like this?"
"Because I want to see what you see," she responded with a yawn. "I want to see what you see that's so evil and terrible about it. A mark doesn't symbolize what you are. Only you can decide what it means to you, in your own eyes."
He nulled over her words, turning back to stare at the ceiling. A few minutes later he heard her breathing soften, and knew she had fallen asleep. Closing his eyes again he tried to fight off her words, wondering why she could impact him so much by saying so little.
He fell asleep listening to the rhythm of her breathing.
Day 266
"Weasley plans to come see you today," he said the following morning when she finally stumbled out of his bedroom. He'd been up for the past three hours working and left her in his room, deciding there was no harm in the matter. Glancing her over he chuckled.
"What? And why did Ron owl you and not me?"
"Oh, you know Weasley. He's trying to act big and buff and make me concerned that he's coming over to check up on you."
"He doesn't need to check up on me," she grumbled. "Harry hasn't even stopped by to see me, and he's more accepting of the situation. Whatever could Ron want?"
"Who bloody knows. It's a good thing he doesn't plan to stop by for another hour though. With the disarray of your clothing and hair he might get the wrong idea of what we do at night."
Her cheeks burned red, and he chuckled again at her embarrassment. Glancing at the nearest mirror her eyes widened, taking in her lopsided pajamas, shorts and atrocious hair. It certainly looked like they did something other than talk the night before.
"You really are a restless sleeper," he joked, reading over some paperwork. Distracted, he completely missed her picking up a nearby pillow and was rather surprised when it hit him in the face.
"Very mature."
She smiled, before glancing back to her room. "I should clean myself up before Ron arrives. The last thing I want is to have some sort of awkward sex conversation with him."
"I'll make sure to make myself scarce when he arrives," Draco agreed, shuffling the papers together. "I hardly want to be around for that conversation."
Rolling her eyes at the comments, she sauntered away, determined to clean herself up now that the day was well underway. He watched her leave despite himself, distracted indeed by her apparel and his not so clean-cut comments.
Pull yourself together Draco. You're almost flirting with her. That sort of behavior can only spell trouble.
He shook his head, returning to what he was doing. Thankfully that morning he was able to distract her and avoid reverting back to the unexpected topics of last night. He personally avoided having to talk about his own nightmares, but they got a lot closer than he ever expected. He wasn't prepared to deal with another conversation like that.
Hermione returned to the living room a short time later, surprised by the site before her. Despite the loathsome looks being shot between the two men, she was momentarily distracted by the appearance of an old face.
"Ron!"
Her old friend had been avoiding her a lot since her return, and the fact that he stepped out of his comfort zone and came to Draco's flat of all places spoke volumes about his determination to see her. The sour look slid of his face as the brunette ran up, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Oh, it's so good to see you! I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever speak to me again."
"Of course," he laughed, seeming lighter than he had in a very long time. The few times she ever saw Ron he was stiff and uncomfortable around her, and most of the time he didn't say a word.
"What brings you by?" she asked, pulling away. "I see you already stumbled upon…"
Turning, she noticed Draco was nowhere to be found. Apparently he used their sappy-hugging time to escape back to his room. Hermione frowned a moment before Ron distracted her again.
"Can we talk?" he asked, guiding her to the nearest sofa. She sat beside her longtime friend, smiling at her first love.
"Sure. What's on your mind Ron?"
He bit his lip, looking away from the pretty girl in front of him. Several moments passed before he bothered to speak. "You're looking well Hermione - better actually I think since you came back from Azkaban. You have a shine in your eyes again."
"Do I?" she asked, having not noticed the difference. Sure, she felt airier than she had before, but she hadn't speculated as to why.
"I guess you feel more at home at Malfoy's than Harry's."
"Oh Ron, don't start on that. I feel comfortable where I feel comfortable. Things have changed. Draco isn't the stranger he used to be to me. We've gotten closer."
"How much closer?"
She sighed, sensing the bitterness in his tone. "Why did you come by today Ron? And why did you owl Draco about it instead of owling me?"
"I needed him to open up the floo for me."
"You could have owled me as well."
They lapsed into an awkward silence. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she was alone in a room with just Ron. Either he was in the back of a space ignoring her, or Lavender was directly at his side, scowling at her the entire time. The fact that he came and spoke to her, alone nonetheless, told her something important bothered his mind, and although it seemed hopeless she sincerely wished she wasn't the reason.
"Why are you here Ron?" she sighed again, the warmhearted visit gone now. "Isn't your wedding drawing closer? Lavender must be having a fit that you aren't there helping her plan."
He flinched at her words, and she frowned, wondering what exactly that reaction meant. "I told Lavender that I needed a little break and would be gone for a few hours today."
"But you didn't tell her you were coming to see me, did you?" she asked, hands gripping the leather of the sofa. He was sneaking around his fiance to come see her. Something about that didn't sit well with her, even if it was Lavender.
"No… I left that part out."
"You know she doesn't like me. She'll have a fit if she finds out you were here and you didn't tell her."
"I didn't want her to know."
She cocked her head, frowning at his words. Scooting away slightly she looked him directly in the eyes, her voice dropping low and serious.
"Ron, what are you doing here?"
He hesitated many moments before acting, as though contemplating his own insanity. In one swift motion he had her head cradled in one hand, the other lying on her thigh. The moment his lips connected with hers she knew he'd lost his bloody mind.
It wasn't forceful, but sweet and borderline broken. She had kissed Ron many times before her kidnapping, and his kisses were never as desperate as they were just then.
They were also never as empty. She couldn't make her lips work with his even if she wanted too; the movement was too sloppy and disjointed to even bother.
She placed a hand on his chest, forcing him back. He stopped immediately, eyes angled downward. She could see the distress clear across his features.
"Stop, Ron. You're forcing something that isn't going to happen."
He looked crestfallen, but nonetheless glanced up a second time. He kept his hands as they were, leaning in a second time with more forceful kisses, as though he could somehow change her mind. He attacked her with the same desperate, loveless kisses as before, his hands holding her tighter to him.
"Ron- Ron, stop- Ron!"
She pushed him away, his hands falling off her without objection. Jumping up she placed distance between them, stepping behind Draco's chair for extra protection.
"Stop Ron," she said, her voice dropping again. "You're forcing yourself."
He held his head, dropping his eyes as he cradled his skull. His body shook slightly, not in anger, and not because he was crying. She stood back and watched him fight with himself.
Footsteps caught her attention, and she glanced over to see Draco appear looking concerned and a bit tense. She noted how his fingers inched towards his pocket as he drew closer, and she realised he intended to draw his wand. Before he could speak and make any sort of accusations, she moved and placed a hand over his mouth, the other gripping the hand at his pocket, temporarily distracted from Ron.
"Don't say anything," she whispered, noticing how much darker his eyes were than normal. There was something there she hadn't seen before, something she couldn't quite name just then. "Nothing happened - nothing bad. Before you blow up, just let me talk to him."
Pulling her hands away slowly she watched him remain still, out of the loop and tense about the situation. Turning back to Ron she noticed his head was up now, eyes slightly red. He had been watching them interact. The quick twitch of his lip told her he didn't approve, and after attempting to shove his tongue down her throat she doubted he ever would.
She stepped around the chair, moving to sit in it. Taking a breath she already knew what she needed to say; she already knew what he had intended.
"It's not going to work Ron," she said, her tone a little void of emotion. "Don't make a mistake now when your wedding is drawing closer. You don't love me that way anymore."
Hermione expected it to hurt more when she said those words out loud, but they barely affected her. She had accepted that truth long ago.
Ron shook his head, eyes downcast again. He looked ashamed in himself. "I had to know. I had to know if there was something still there before I marry Lavender. I'm sorry I took so long... I didn't know how to handle everything and you... coming back."
"There isn't anything left for us," she replied, eyeing him. "You don't love me anymore, we both know that. I don't know what made you think we did-"
"We went to the boutique," he whispered, barely audible. "The one Mum used to go to all the time. She never bought anything, but she always mused about the weddings her children would have. Remember, we went together once."
"I remember."
"I assumed from the beginning that you didn't love me anymore," he continued, speaking more to himself than to the other people in the room. "You came back from Azkaban to learn that I had given up on you. Why would you love me then?"
"Ron-"
"And I wasn't sure how to feel. I figured that everything was over, and I already planned to propose to Lavender before your return. People knew it. If I changed my mind because you were back it would send everything into question. She was afraid that I would fall in love with you again, but I kept assuring her that everything was fine."
"Ron-"
"Then we went back to that shop, and I remembered everything I had been blocking out about you. I remembered our plans and musings and how you had millions more plans than I. And it made me wonder… what would have happened if you hadn't been taken."
"Maybe in another life we would have been together," she said, cutting in before he could speak again. "But Ron we both knew before you started kissing me that there's no love left there. We broke apart because of what happened and there's no going back on that. You have to stop now though. We can't go back and change something that's broken, not when things are taking such different directions. Go back and tell Lavender where you were. You're about to be married; you owe her some honesty on the matter."
"But-"
"You do," she pressed. "She loves you in a way I never will again. Go and enjoy your future wife. Don't hold onto something that we let fall apart."
He stared at her for a long time before glancing up at the furious blond above her. Those guarded, haunting eyes dared him to try something again. Standing slowly, he looked at her once more.
"I'm sorry. I should've just left things as they were."
Ron left with no more words exchanged, and Hermione couldn't say that she was disappointed. As he left she felt a weight lift up off her, one that had been pressing on her since he kissed her. He didn't look heartbroken when he left, or crushed or hurt. He looked at peace with his actions, even if he didn't need to go to such extremes. She got her point across, and he agreed completely.
Now if he hadn't kissed me I wouldn't have anything to explain to Draco.
A hand came to rest on her shoulder and she glanced back at the blond, who was looking her over for signs of injury. She smiled at him, standing from the chair.
"I'm fine you know."
He titled his head to the side, still out of the loop. "What happened?"
Shaking her head, she turned and wrapped her arms around his body. He was stiff for a moment before he accepted the hug, glancing back towards the vacated fireplace.
"I'll tell you later," she sighed, closing her eyes. "Can't we just sit and have tea?"
A/n: It's not really an ending for a chapter, but there's number six. We'll see Draco's reactions to everything and maybe hear about their nightmares next time.
For anyone wondering the final chapter for Dipping into the Dark Side is underway and Accidents Happen is in the works.
Thanks for all the feedback and reviews! Keep them coming lovelies I so appreciate them :D
Until next time~
Haley