"He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began."

― Leo Tolstoy

Chapter Eighteen: Feeling U, Feeling Me

Hermione didn't realize how heavily she had slept until she awoke suddenly and jerkily, panting. She reached out with her senses, and could feel the bed tilted in front of her. Draco Malfoy was still there, apparently sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Geez, Granger, you scared the hell out of me!" he barked, launching up.

Hermione shook her head, rubbing her eyes. "Sorry. I do that whenever I'm anxious before bed."

Draco nodded cooly and exited the room. Now that she was awake, he could no longer be alone with himself, and it was absolutely necessary now. He knew someone was going to come for them soon, and despite it being still early, he needed to have his wits about him.

"Hermione? I've brought more clothes. These are also good for travel."

Hermione smiled as she felt Jesse set clothes beside her.

"Also, I've been doing some research. Unfortunately, it's not as simple as Googling 'noctulous blindness cures,' but I found some helpful things all the same. The antidote is some kind of potion, made with a special fruit. Some kind of... black citrus fruit. Very interesting stuff." Jesse lifted Hermione's arms and removed her nightie.

Hermione sighed, her smile growing and her abrupt wakefulness forgotten. "I'll bet. I'll have to read up on it as well - it sounds fascinating."

"You can read on the journey," Draco said, unabashed by his sudden appearance, nor by the fact that he knew Hermione would not be reading on the journey.

It took Hermione a good second to realize she had to cover herself; Draco scoffed at the gesture and went back to what he was doing.

"Are you leaving today?"

Draco nodded, indicating the bag on the floor next to the door. He stiffened; Hermione's mind was wondering around outside of his.

He opened his barrier, and though she could tell he was slightly annoyed to be having her emotions in his head so early in the morning, she could also tell that he was impressed by how much better she was controlling it.

A warm smile floated towards him, and he opened his eyes.

"You shouldn't blunder around like that outside of someone's head. Just tap on the window."

Jesse shot him a confused look and turned her gaze to Hermione, who nodded, albeit a little disappointed. He was so different in person from the Draco she saw in that hazy space... she knew him better now though, and knew that he put up a front.

:You don't have to pretend around me now.:

She felt him roll his eyes.

"Tea is on the table, if you'd like some."

"Yes," Hermione said. "Draco, I need to get dressed now."

He nodded and left without another word.

"I swear, I think he's mad sometimes."

Hermione smoothed her fingers over the edges of the ceramic tea-cup, slowly memorizing the feeling of the smooth, scalloped edges.

"I told you we live too well," Jesse muttered, noticing the movement. "So describe this woman to me, the one who runs the show."

Draco shook his head. "She's a little messed up in the head, one of those geniuses who is not all there. She has her tempers but is creepily good humored most of the time."

Sasha grinned, her usual sad smile gone this morning. "She sounds quite interesting."

"Yes. Her methods aren't always though. She's a little better than the Dark Lord at things like torture. She doesn't do spells. She does... machines."

Hermione shuddered, thinking of torture machines in history. There were all kinds of things one could do to cause pain, and she didn't want to think about them - her chest hurt quite enough for her to deal with.

"She... has black hair and piercing eyes. And a gentle smile, though on her it makes her seem even crazier."

"How about height, body type, etcetera?"

Draco shrugged. "She has petite physical features. Who's to know - she usually only exposes her back and a bit of her chest."

Jesse nodded. "So she must be powerful if she is able to control so many people and keep everything going."

"And if she has the power to locate people like she has located us before."

There was silence as the group contemplated her statement. It was rather frightening that the Death Eaters could be mobilizing to attack them this very second, despite the hour and despite the unusual calm in the house. Calm before the storm, Hermione thought.

"How will I contact you, Hermione? While I'm finding your cure."

She shook her head, wishing it was as simple as a flick of Draco's wand to put her back to normal. "I don't know. There is no safe way."

Draco nodded, thinking. Owls were out of the question, and displaying any kind of magic signal around the Death Eater hideout was not safe either.

Hermione's head popped up - the answer was so obvious it was ridiculous. "We use mobile phones."

The group sighed, agreeing, all except for Draco, who shrugged. "Do whatever you need to do."

Harry Potter looked around the silent street. The sky hung low in wait, the sun barely peeking over the horizon and the fog stained red from the unusual sunrise. The street-lamps turned off abruptly.

"It should be just around the corner. Do you mind scouting and seeing what the situation is? For all we know, it's Malfoy's new home."

Neville nodded and jogged up the asphalt.

Harry was unusually calm for such a mission. He should have been afraid to see what awaited him in that large white house. It was too easy to be optimistic. He glanced behind him, where the golden city was spread out, still asleep. He hoped with all his might that whatever happened within the next twenty minutes, it happened without incident.

Draco ran a hand through his wet hair, looking at the fogged-up mirror. A hazy reflection stared back at him.

It was strange to talk to someone again without words, and even stranger to talk to someone who was so warm. Most people were cold, like him; everything about them felt cold, even if the emotions they displayed were happy ones. There was something so soothing about Hermione Granger's mind.

Damn it, Draco thought, running a hand through his hair again. Why do I have to feel this way about her? He wanted to find the source of his desire for her, so that he can know exactly why she made him feel the way he felt. And then he could avoid that part of her, that part of him, until the feelings went away.

The problem was that it seemed like it came from so many things, and especially things he could not change. Part of it was her understanding of him; part of it was her warmth and sincerity; another part of it was the strange ability she had to force him to feel.

Plus, she was physically drawing him in as well. She had beautiful, creamy skin, and the weight of her body when he'd carried her had been so soft, yet so solid. When he touched her, he could somehow feel her innocent, compassionate nature. It was irresistible.

And she was kind of attractive. He was starting to notice that more as well...

He needed a distraction. Now.

Draco quickly pulled a shirt over his head, striding towards the piano in the corner of the living room. His feet scraped sharply against the white hardwood as he stopped abruptly.

Hermione was sitting there already, absently playing random keys. He could tell that she was frustrated, since she couldn't see what key she was pressing without feeling the ones around it first; she was sitting too close to the piano and had poor hand position, so he knew she didn't play, but she clearly knew what the notes were since she was trying to pair up scales.

Draco sat without a word, letting Hermione stiffen next to him briefly before relaxing a bit and scooting over. Through the silence, he could hear her anticipation; her bottomless eyes were fixed on the far wall and her hands suddenly went to her lap.

"Are you going to play something?" she asked.

She had already felt what he felt, and had already been privy to memories and feelings in the deepest corners of his mind and body, so why did he still feel nervous?

Because he had wanted to get away from thoughts of her by indulging himself in a little escape time, but instead he was about to entertain her with that escape.

Draco scooted the bench back slowly until he found his spot, and ran through possible pieces in his head. He wanted to play something that didn't use the whole keyboard, since she was sitting with him, and did not feel like showing her one of his own pieces, so he settled on one she should know.

The one thing he loved about this piece was the images it created - he almost always thought of moonlight when he played it, and thought it to be appropriately named.

Hermione sucked in a breath beside him - he looked over at her. She knew this piece.

:Moonlight Sonata?:

Draco nodded, knowing she couldn't see it but would be able to feel, smell, and taste "Yes" in her mind. She wasn't smiling; instead, he felt something else coming from her light green mind... something like sadness. This piece sobered her. He could feel her mind almost leaning on his. He detached himself from his body a bit, letting muscle memory guide his fingers, and lessened the curtain between Hermione's mind and his own.

He received a brief shock as she went right through the partition... they were becoming the same person again, only this time, it wasn't painful. This time it felt like heaven.

Their minds were overlapping, so instead of pulling back the curtain on his naked self, it was like she was stepping into the small shower, his soul cavity, to join him.

This wasn't nearly as invasive as before, though it probably should have been, considering that he had never felt so close to someone in his life, so completely buried in someone. Her form was flaming, and from her he could feel that strange nervousness, a desperate anticipation, and something molten. He concentrated on that last emotion... confusion rippled from him; what was that? It felt incredible, like warm water down his body. He'd never sensed anything like that from someone before...

With a start he realized what it was: desire.

As soon as he realized this, the emotion consumed him, and he reflected it back at her with growing intensity.

The sensation tingled in his belly, slowing his motions and warming his core. She was so utterly close to him, raw and uninhibited; he was approaching overstimulation, between the soft weight of her body next to him, the desire like lava flowing from her, and the cool slide of the keys under his fingers.

It was like... sex.

Panic suddenly pinched him - what was he doing? Surely, whatever was going on was not safe and probably not a good idea anyway. He tried to repress everything that he was starting to feel - panic that this was wrong; panic that she would realize it; panic that eventually they would split apart and the feeling of intense closeness would be gone...

Hermione's soul perked up. She could sense the panic now, and started it in her own mind as well.

Draco crashed back to reality as a stark and unforgiving sound met his ears –

The doorbell.

Sasha bustled into the room, Amy following her; she glanced at Draco, who was still trying to recover from the strange experience he had just had. She stopped when she saw his expression.

"Is it her?" she whispered.

Draco closed his eyes, but the only mind he could sense was Hermione's slightly disappointed mind, still in limbo between full consciousness and floating in soul space. Either she needed practice or... she was still feeling heady from the connection. He shrugged slightly, indicating that it could be anyone.

Sasha nodded and went to open the door.

Draco turned his attention back to Hermione, attempting to shake off the last of his panic. She was leaning against him still, her black eyes drifting shut and her body trying to absorb his. He realized that he was still playing.

"Malfoy?"

Draco looked up, ending the piece. The last person he had expected to see was standing in the room.

"Longbottom?"

Neville looked from him to Hermione, confusion on his face, his wand now pointing at the floor. "What..."

Harry Potter stepped around him, wearing the same expression. "What's going on, Hermione?"

Draco looked down at Hermione. He mentally cursed, seeing what this whole thing must look like - her leaning against him so, a dreamlike expression on her face; him letting her, and even enjoying it; him playing piano for her...

"Harry?" Hermione stood up. "Is that you, Harry?"

"Yes, Hermione, it's me," he said, still staring at the two.

Hermione's face brightened briefly before she realized why he was there. "I... just listen a second Harry, before you do anything - "

It was too late. Draco was already up, his wand pointed at the two, who had their own wands pointed at him now as well.

Hermione felt the change in the air immediately. "Hey... stop it, boys! I know this looks bad, but please hear us out!"

Harry shook his head, his hand shaking. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you, but we don't have time for that. This ends now."

"No it doesn't, Potter. This is only beginning, and we need you to be out of our way."

"Our way? What is he on about, Hermione?"

Sasha looked fearfully between them, daring to speak up. "What is this? I thought you said you were friends!"

There was silence as they stared each other down, the ticking of the wall clock the only sound. Finally, Hermione spoke up. "Yes, we are all friends. All of us."

"He's tortured you, made fun of you, kidnapped you, and you think we're friends? Bullocks. Absolute bullshit - "

"Well, he's my friend, and if you love me then you will put your wand down now."

Oh. She only reserved that tone for him when she was absolutely serious and ready to maim. Draco looked down at her fiery expression. His other hand found her arm and gripped it gently.

"Get your bloody hands off of her."

Draco looked up at them, his wand still fixed on Harry. His face was expressionless as he did the unthinkable.

His arm encircled her shoulders.

Hermione's face turned in his direction, the fiery expression slipping into something that looked like nervousness. With her so close, he could feel her heart speed up.

"YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING JOKING."

"Harry, please - we're trying to help... please understand..."

"YOU'RE FUCKING SERIOUS?"

Draco suddenly stiffened. "Potter, we don't have time for this now. You're either with us or against us, because there are Death Eaters standing at the door."

Harry stared at him as the front door exploded off its hinges.