Chapter Six: Feels
"The Edge Of Tonight" -All Time Low
A nightmare jolted Hermione from her slumber. She tried to steady her breathing and her pounding heart. Just a dream, she told herself. She rolled over onto her side and immediately noted the letter's absence. She bit her lip, hoping that no one had noticed anything amiss. She wasn't daft, she knew they would check it over before they sent it out. But she also knew that they didn't know her hand writing like Harry and Ron did. They had nothing to compare it to and for all they knew she might use random capitalization all of the time like Ginny. She'd always cringed, reading the other girl's writing, but thank Godric for her or she might not have had the idea in the first place.
She had come to the conclusion that the Ministry was never going to agree to a deal with the Death Eaters no matter how many letters they got. She understood their decision, she really did. If she had been in their shoes, she would be doing the same. As it were, she was in her own shoes and they were alot less comfortable to wear. But she would endure. And if they did end up killing her, then it was for the betterment of Wizardkind. Murderers shouldn't get to scam their way back into society. They needed to pay for their crimes. She loathed them.
Though, that loathing didn't extend to a certain blonde Slytherin. The more time she spent around Draco, the more confused she got. War had changed them both, knocking them each down a few pegs. They were essentially the same, yet they were different. His self loathing had replaced the obnoxious, entitled air he'd always had about him and without school, Hermione had nothing to lord over people's heads, though she had never meant to do that to begin with. He was still the same sarcastic, Slytherin bastard, and yet he wasn't. She was still the same intelligent, Gryffindor princess, and yet she wasn't. Time and trauma had altered them irrevocably.
She was pacing around the room, trying to distract herself from her thoughts by counting her steps when the door creaked open and Draco stepped inside, holding a bundle of green fabric in his fist. She was immediately curious, pausing mid stride and arching an eyebrow at him. "Got my letter, then?"
"Why'd you write it?" He scowled, closing the door behind him.
She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Draco. Your moods could give someone whiplash. 'Don't write the letter,' 'Write the letter,' 'Don't write the letter,' Write the letter.'"
"Damned if you do, damned if you don't." He snapped. "It's a lose-lose situation."
She shrugged, moving closer to him.
"So, why did you decide to write it?"
"Didn't fancy being persuaded. What've you got there?" She said, changing the subject quickly and eyeing the green material he still held.
"You're awfully fucking chipper for someone who just requested a bunch of Death Eaters be allowed to roam the streets, Granger. Could you have been any more you about it? 'I believe we should all be able to press forward from this point with clean slates. It isn't fair of us to judge them based solely off of their past actions. Terrible circumstances warrant questionable actions.' It sounds like a bloody pageant speech." He recited in a poor imitation of her voice.
She was taken aback and struggled to retain her shock. "How can you remember that? I can barely remember what I wrote and I read over it about a hundred times."
He gave but a seconds pause before snapping, "Because it's that bloody ridiculous. You sound like a politician."
"Well, I'm addressing the letter to the Ministry, so I felt that it would be best to speak their language. I didn't really think, 'Hey guys, these Death Eaters seem like they've legitimately made a complete turnaround since the war a few days ago, you know, aside from kidnapping a few people. Shall we all have tea and talk about our feelings?' would suffice to sway anyone's opinion."
His smirk turned into a full blown grin. "Blimey, you are a smart arse."
She fought back a smile, saying, "Yes, well, must be the company I'm keeping these days."
He tossed the fabric at her and it smacked against her face before she had time to react. She caught it before it fell to the floor, holding it up to examine. "You were complaining about your clothes being dirty. I figured anything to shut you up."
She glanced back at him, arching an eyebrow. "Your Quidditch jersey? Really?"
He glared at her, "I don't have many options. We left quickly. I packed the first things my hands touched."
She gave him a skeptical look and he moved forward, reaching to take it back. She jerked it away, out of his grasp. He rolled his eyes. "Take it or leave it, Granger, I don't mind you wearing those dirty clothes. They match your blood," he smirked.
She stuck her tongue out at him, unable to muster enough indignation at his statement. It hadn't held any of the malicious contempt that he normally dished out when talking about her blood status. It had sounded almost like teasing. It almost sounded like he was trying to flirt with her. But that was ridiculous. "Well, get out so I can put it on." She said, gesturing towards the door.
He turned, striding back across the room and paused with his hand on the door knob. "Oh, I almost forgot." He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a scrap of black lace, tossing it at her so that it landed at her feet. She stooped to pick it up, realising at once that it was supposed to be ladies underwear, though this scrap of fabric would never have found its way into her wardrobe. Her cheeks flushed pink and she glared at him.
"I know it's probably not the granny knickers you're accustomed to wearing, Granger, but I'm afraid Pansy has bold tastes." And then he left, his chuckles echoing off of the stone walls leaving Hermione standing, embarrassed clutching the jersey in one hand and the knickers in the other.
She thought about throwing them into a heap beside the door, but she really did want to get out of this disgusting, tattered up shirt. She sighed, giving in and stripping down to her skivvies. She donned the jersey, hesitated momentarily and then reluctantly slipped on the underwear before shrugging back into her jeans. She kicked her soiled shirt, bra and knickers under the edge of the bed, having no wand to magic them away. She felt significantly better.
The jersey was much softer than it looked. She pulled the collar up over her nose and inhaled the faint scent of sweat and broom handle polish, overpowered only by the magnificent smell of a cologne that Hermione could only surmise must have cost a pretty galleon. She closed her eyes, leaning back against the bed. It was intoxicating.
"I borrowed a pair of your knickers, Parkinson." Malfoy said, as he stepped out into the back garden where his friends were all lazing about on the grass.
Blaise and Pansy both shot up immediately. "What the fuck, Malfoy?" Blaise said, at the same time Pansy shrieked, "Why?"
Theo was grinning from ear to ear, seemingly unfased by this confession. He'd most likely stolen a few pairs himself, though likely not with the same good intentions.
"Granger was bitching about having to wear dirty clothes. I gave her a shirt, but seeing as I don't make a habit of wearing ladies underwear," he coughed, glancing pointedly at Theo, "I had to get them from somewhere else."
Blaise visibly relaxed, leaning back onto his elbow. "I do not wear ladies knickers, Draco. I use them for other things," Theo said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Blaise threw a rock at him, narrowly missing his tousled, brown curls, earning himself a middle finger from his friend.
"Next time steal some of Alecto's, hm? Mine are too expensive to be handing out to Harry Potter's twittering side-kicks." Pansy said in a bored lull, running her fingers over the ebony down of Blaise's head. He let out a groan and grabbed one of her hands, bringing it to his lips and kissing it gently.
Theo made a gagging noise. "You two are disgustingly sweet. And that is not a compliment."
"Is anything ever a compliment when it comes from you, Theo?" Pansy snapped, her hands stilling on Blaise's scalp.
A shadow caught Draco's attention and he looked up in time to see a great tawny owl heading for the kitchen window. He immediately turned and disappeared back into the house, his friends glancing quickly between each other before following.
His father already had the scroll open, his face alight. As his eyes continued to slide across the paper, his expression darkened bit by bit until finally he crumpled the paper into a wad and threw it across the room with a snarl.
"Bad news?" Draco surmised with a smirk.
Lucius snapped his wand up and hit him with a silencing charm before he had a chance to react. He cursed himself internally for not trying harder to learn non-verbal spells. "They want to meet up with us to dicuss our terms. That is a set up, if I have ever heard of one."
"What are we to do now, Lucius?" Narcissa asked quietly. He was quiet for several moments, his eyes darting about the room, settling on each person for a fraction of a second before moving on.
"Can any of you produce a corporeal Patronus?" The question suprised Draco, but he had to admit that it was a decent idea... if any of them could cast one. Not that he could give voice to his opinions if he wanted to. He glanced around at his silent comrades stoic faces. He opened his mouth, then quickly snapped it back shut realising that he couldn't speak. He rolled his eyes turning back to his father. "No one?"
When none of them spoke he let out a growl of rage, flipping a chair, sending pieces of wood flying in different directions.
"Lucius!" Narcissa scolded, placing a soothing hand on his arm. "Everything will be fin-"
"Don't! Everything is far from fine," he hissed, "Narcissa, our lives are on the line!"
Draco's internal monologue thought, 'Yes, of course, because that's new. We lived in Lord bloody Voldemort's shadow for years, but now, now that we have no one to cower behind, it's a big deal. Prison doesn't live up to the lavish life expectations of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, no.'
A stunning spell hit him flat in the stomach, knocking him backwards into Theo who was standing a short distance behind him. "Everything I have ever done, I've done for you, boy! I joined the Dark Lord, hoping for a better life for you! I took the punishments he dished out so willingly, FOR YOU!" Draco clutched his stomach, as he clawed himself into a sitting position, looking over his shoulder and shooting an apologetic look at Theo whose cheekbone was blossoming with a purple bruise from its connection with the stone floor. Fucking slip up, he hadn't been focusing on bracing his Occlumency because he hadn't anticipated anyone listening in. "I devised this plan, trying to keep YOU out of Azkaban! Speak, you ungrateful little shit!" The silencing spell lifted, but Draco held his tongue, glaring at his father as he stood from his position on the hard floor. "Now, you have nothing to say, you who always has a ready retort for everything?"
Draco, who could hold back his anger no longer, brandished his wand so that he and Lucius stood in identical poses, each of them aiming their weapon at the other. "Don't pretend you ever gave a damn about me! Benignity doesn't suit you, Lucius! You are and always have been a selfish, power seeking, xenophobic old basta-"
He was struck by a spell, which flung him backwards once more. This time Theo narrowly evaded being taken down as well. "Get out of my sight!" Lucius shouted, as Draco clambered to his feet struggling to regain his breathing. "I don't want to see your face until you're ready to show me the respect I damn well deserve!" Draco met his mother's streaming eyes and was immediately ashamed of himself. No matter how he felt about Lucius, he should never have let it come to this. He turned and stalked out of the dining room, ignoring his friends watchful eyes.
His feet carried him of their own accord down the long hallway and up the stairs. He wasn't conscious of the track he was treking until he was standing outside Granger's door, hand extended to open it. He paused only for a moment, before jerking the door open and stepping inside. Hermione jumped in suprise as he entered and his mood considerably lightened at the flush spreading across her face.
"Were you just smelling my shirt, Granger?" He smirked, easing the door closed.
"No, I- This room is very dusty, I was simply trying to avoid an asthma attack."
He chuckled, all but forgetting the encounter with his father. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. I know I'm irresistable."
She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Someone could off themselves by jumping from your ego."
"It would be their pleasure." He grinned, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"What happened?" She queried, suddenly, her brows knitting together.
"What do you mean?"
"You looked upset when you came in, before you were distracted by me sniffing your shirt."
He arched an eyebrow. "So, you were smelling my shirt?"
"Not important. What happened?" She asked, not to be detered by his attempt at a diversion. He huffed out a sigh, and flopped down into the armchair.
"Lucius and I had a row."
She frowned, nodding thoughtfully. "It's okay to be upset, Draco. He's still your father no matter what he's done."
"It's not fighting with him that bothers me. It's the look on my mother's face when we start in on each other. It's like us fighting causes her physical pain. I hate it."
"You're her son. He's her husband. It has to be conflciting for her when you and your father at odds..."
"You're a therapist now, Granger? Shall I lie back and tell you all about the problems in my life while you pretend to listen?" Draco snapped, annoyed with himself for telling her any of it. He hadn't asked for her opinion. Didn't want her sympathy.
"If I was a therapist, I'd charge double for your attitude." She countered, "You should be thanking me for listening to you for free."
He scoffed, amused in spite of his resolve to keep her out. "Please. There are plenty of girls who would jump at the chance to listen to me talk about my problems."
"There you go again with the narcissism. Perhaps you need a potion to deflate that gigantic ego of yours?"
"My 'gigantic ego' isn't what kept them coming back 'round," he said, smirking as her cheeks colored once more.
"Honestly," she sighed, giving up on the conversation that was going nowhere she'd intended.
Draco smirked at her and shrugged before standing up and heading for the door.
"Where are you going?" She asked quietly.
"Think I'll go find Theo."
"Are there any books in this God forsaken place? I'm going to die of boredom before you can trade me off for your freedom."
He turned and met her twinkling brown eyes. "Might can find something. Oh, by the way- Kinglsey Shackle-dolt, our new temporary minister, has requested a meeting with us to discuss our terms."
She frowned, her brows creasing together. "Because of my letter?"
"Well, yes, I'd assume that had something to do with it." He was just being his usual smart ass self, but her expression darkened for some reason. "You did call for peace," he reminded her.
She looked up at him and forced a smile. "Yes, I suppose I did. So, when is this meeting taking place?"
"Never. Lucius thinks its a trap. He's trying come up with another of his brilliant plans to avoid it and still get his way."
She nodded thoughtfully, her eyes staring off into the blank space to his right.
"You okay, Granger?"
"Hm? Oh, yes. Fine."
Her eyes glanced up to meet his briefly before returning to their dazed state. He decided not to think too much of it, choosing instead to actually go and find Theo. He wanted to know what had happened after he was physically and metaphorically thrown out on his arse.
Hermione was kicking herself. She had been sure that Harry and Ron would be able to figure out her message. She hadn't expected them to take her words to heart. And now they were trying to send in the calvary, risking letting dangerous Death Eaters roam the streets. Perhaps she had overestimated their memory of her handwriting. Or perhaps Harry and Ron had never gotten to see the letter at all. This was terrible. She should have continued refusing their demands that she write the letter. Damn it all, she was upset with herself.
She paced the room, her thoughts whirling with no conscious grasp of the passing of time. The sky outside turned from grey-blue, to orange-y-pink, to purple-grey outside of her windows but she paid it no mind. All she could think of were how many peoples lives would be put in danger, now, all because of a letter she'd written, not intending for any one to believe her words.
The door cracked open and a few books floated in, landing on the bed with a soft thump. Hermione looked up, expecting Draco to come in and distract her from her thoughts with his normal banter. But the door snapped back shut, leaving her alone once more. She groaned, making her way over to the bed to examine the books. There was a copy of Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander and a tattered copy of The Tales Of Beedle The Bard.
Hermione climbed onto the bed, pushing the pillows into a comfortable bunch and leaned back running her hands over the covers of each book. She finally picked up Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find them and flipped to the first page, beginning to read. After a few minutes, she felt almost like her normal self.
Draco was laying across his bed, the door cracked so that he would hear footsteps if anyone climbed the stairs. Yaxley kept grinning at him every time they ran into each other and it was putting him on edge. Normally someone smiling at you would have a calming effect, but with Yaxley it was the opposite, it made his stomach churn. A paper airplane crashed into his head, prompting him to turn and glare at Theo as the airplane looped a circle and flew off across the room again.
"Sorry mate." Theo grinned, clearly anything but. He'd recounted everything that had happned in the aftermath of Draco and Lucius' fight a couple of hours ago. Lucius intended to basically ignore the Ministry completely and cut off all contact until they decided that an agreement could be reached without a personal meeting. "Think they're done with dinner yet, man? I'm starving!"
"You just ate an entire tray of biscuits." Draco said, rolling his steel grey eyes skyward.
"That doesn't count. Sweets aren't real food."
Draco grinned. "You can go eat with them, Theo. I'm fine."
"I'm not making you eat alone, mate." Theo said indignantly.
Draco scoffed. "You sound like my bloody girlfriend."
Theo grinned widely, "You wish you had a girlfriend as fucking awesome as me. If you want we can hold hands, fuck with Blaise and Pansy a bit."
Draco chuckled and shook his head. "I'll pass."
There was a light rap on the door and Blaise and Pansy crossed the threshold, snapping the door shut behind him. "Speak of the devil," Theo said, quietly. Draco rolled off the bed, crossed over and cracked the door once more.
Pansy raised an eyebrow, a silent inquiry. Draco ignored her, so she turned to Theo. "Draco thinks Yaxley's up to something. Doesn't want him fucking with them four while our back is turned."
Blaise nodded. "He has been acting strange... But then again, he's strange, so."
"They've all gone off to bed if you want to go get food," Pansy said, directing the comment to Draco but earning a whoop of joy from Theo. Pansy quirked an eyebrow and smirked.
"Nott's starving." Draco said, heading for the door.
"I'm 'Nott' now? Are we having a row, sweetie?" Theo asked, following closely behind him.
"Piss off, Theo."
After they'd eaten, they each made a plate to take to Granger and Lovegood. Blaise and Pansy had taken care of the other two. Draco opened the door and entered quickly, shutting the door tight behind him. It was dark in the room, the moon unable to give off it's usual light due to the storm clouds rolling in. "Lumos," Draco murmured, igniting the tip of his wand. The light illuminated the room and he could make out Hermione's sleeping figure on the bed, an open book laying on her chest, the other two he'd given lay on top of the duvet.
He sat the plate of food on the side table, intending to go back to his own room. He'd just turned to leave when she whispered his name. He sighed, turning back to her only to find her still sound asleep. His eyebrows knit together and he stood torn. Curiosity won out and he eased closer to the bed, leaning in to get a closer look at her.
Her brown curls, slightly matted from not being washed or brushed in a week, were spread across the pillow her head rested upon. Her long lashes fanned out over her freckled, pink cheeks. Her lips were puckered in an unconscious pout, and he suddenly had the urge to touch them to see if they were as soft as they looked. He shook his head, backing up a step when she whispered his name once more, turning onto to her side and settling again. He pushed down the feeling that was rising inside him. He shouldn't like hearing her breathe his name in her sleep, but somehow it just felt right.
He told himself that it was his duty as a man to stay in the chair, to make sure that Yaxley or Dolohov didn't try anything with her again, but deep down he knew it was the contingency of his name rolling off of her tongue again that rooted him to the seat.
The manor was dark and she padded down the hallways, cringing at the tiny smacks her bare feet made against the stone floors. She was terrified, but she also knew that she had to keep moving if she wanted to find a way out of there. A noise behind her caused her breath to catch in her throat. She turned slowly and came face to face with Bellatrix Lestrange. "Thought you'd seen the last of me, girly? You couldn't hope to be that fortunate."
Hermione reached for her wand, only to discover it was gone. Bellatrix let out a shrill cackle raising goosebumps across Hermione's skin. She turned and ran as hard and fast as she could up the long corridor, Bellatrix's laughs echoing off the walls around them. "Are we playing a game, dearie? I'm afraid the teams aren't very evenly matched." Bellatrix called, closer now. Hermione ignored her taunt and pushed herself to move faster. She turned a corner, glancing back over her shoulder and ran into something hard. She let out a grunt of pain as she hit the stone floor. She looked up to find Yaxley standing over her, Dolohov slightly behind him. The Carrow siblings stood beside the large fireplace. Hermione had only just begun to panic when a cold, familiar voice sneered from behind her, "How nice of you to join us, Miss Granger. We've been waiting for a while and our patience was beginning to wane."
Lucius stepped toward her, Narcissa hovering just behind him. Bellatrix stepped through the doorway Hermione had just come from, stepping over her, a well placed foot grinding into her fingers. She cried out in pain and Bellatrix gave a girlish giggle. "Can I have the first turn, dear brother in law? You know how I Iove when they're still fresh."
"By all means Bella." Lucius sneered, stepping back and motioning her forward.
She licked her lips, grinning madly. "Crucio!" she hissed, and Hermione's world stopped. There was nothing but pain, sharp and piercing, radiating out from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes. She screamed and Bellatrix cackled loudly. "Who's next? Yaxley, you'll have a go won't you?"
The tall Death Eater stalked toward her, his pleasure plain on his haggard face, his scarred nose strikingly evident in the glare of the fire in the hearth. "Crucio," he murmured and her body was wracked with pain once more. She screamed out.
They took turns, one after the other until they'd all had a go at making her shriek in agony. Tears were streaming down her cheeks in never ending torrents. "Please," she sobbed, "no more," as a pale figure in dark robes strode toward her.
"Granger," a familiar voice drawled. Hermione looked up in shock, relief flooding though her. "Draco," she choked out. He smirked down at her, his wand pointed at her temple. "This might hurt a bit. Crucio!"
She screamed again, over and over as the curse tore at every last bit of her sanity and self-control. "Granger," Malfoy snapped.
"Granger! Hermione! Don't- Just sto- Dammit, Granger, for fuck's sake."
Hermione's eyes flew open, the hoarse scream falling from her lips cut short. Her breathing was labored, her hair matted in sweat. Strong hands gripped her wrists in the dark, pinning her back against the pillow. "Granger?"
Hermione let out a choked sob, her tense body relaxing slightly as she realised she had been dreaming. "Draco," she whimpered and his hands relaxed around her wrists.
She lunged at him, her mind still reeling from the dream, flinging her arms around his neck and weeping into his chest. His body stiffened in suprise at her sudden embrace. She didn't know how long they sat like that, but finally as her sobs were beginning to quiet down she felt his hand against her hair, stroking it gently as his other arm wrapped around her waist.
She shuddered a sigh as he pulled her tighter against him, relaxing against his chest with her ear pressed against the steady beating of his heart. She sniffled and his hand stroked her hair. "You're ruining a perfectly good shirt," he said. She smiled, peeking up at him and wiping her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't know what I-" She pulled away suddenly, embarrassed at her spectacle. He released her, leaning back against the bedpost.
"What happened? In your dream?" He asked, grey eyes studying her.
She flinched, and hesitated, "I, uh.. it was nothing really."
He narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head. "You were screaming your head off for a good five minutes before you came to, beating me while I tried to wake you. Your right hook is still as good as ever." He smirked and she flushed.
She chewed her lip, unwilling to divulge all the details of her dream. He seemed to realise she wasn't going to speak, so he murmured, "I'll just wait until you go back to sleep and use Legilimency if you don't tell me."
She gasped at his threat. Legilimency was such a gross invasion of someone's privacy and she had always been repulsed by it. She glared at him and decided a half truth would be better than him prodding around in her unconsious mind. "I was being tortured."
"Well, yes, I had deduced that much for myself, funnily enough."
"I was at Malfoy Manor," his face darkened but she continued, "Bellatrix was there, and some... others."
"Who were the others?"
"It doesn't matter."
"You were saying my name, there at the end. Was I there?"
She looked down and chewed her lip, giving a small nod.
"Did I hurt you?"
She nodded again.
His face clouded over and his grey eyes darkened significantly. "I'm sorry, Hermione."
She looked up in suprise. Suprise that he was apologising for something completely out of his control and suprise at his casual use of her given name. "It was just a dream..."
He looked unconvinced by her logic. "I wouldn't hurt you."
"I never believed you would."
"I've stood by and watched other people hurt you." She knew he was referring to Bellatrix and she couldn't deny it. Had she been in his shoes, she probably would have done the same, but she hadn't been and you never knew for sure how you would react in those kind of situations until you were there and forced to react. So she simply said, "It's in the past."
"I should have done something." He growled in the darkness.
"Draco," she said, reaching out to take his hand, ignoring the way he flinched at her touch. "it doesn't matter. It's over and done with. You've saved me from much worse," she shuddered at the memory of Yaxley's hands on her.
He stared at their linked hands in silence for a while before sighing. "You should get back to sleep." He pulled his hand from hers and stood.
"How did you hear me screaming with the silencing charm up?" She asked, as the thought suddenly occured to her.
"I was asleep in the chair," he muttered.
She didn't risk speaking on it, for fear of making him angry, but she was thankful he had stayed with her. The only thing that had kept her mind off of Yaxley before she'd fallen asleep had been the books, which thanks to her thrashing about were now in a heap on the floor.
"I'm sorry I woke you up," Hermione said, realising he was waiting for her to speak.
He shrugged. "You can't control your dreams, Granger. Go to sleep." And then he walked back over and flopped into the chair, throwing his legs over the arm.
"Goodnight, Draco." She murmured, resting against the pillows and allowing sleep to take her once more.