Draco had been riding on a high ever since Valentine's night, every step feeling as though he had mini broomsticks attached to his shoes. When he closed his eyes, he could see Hermione writhing beneath him, her head thrown back and a sweet moan on her lips. All his fantasies, those many daydreams that had taken up most of his time, could not have prepared him for how beautiful she was, the paleness of her skin against the lacy purple number she'd worn, how pink her nipples had been, the way she'd tasted. He took a deep breath clenching his jaw. He needed to calm down, the corridor was not the place to get wound up about the wonderful memory of Hermione's hips moving desperately against his hand, 'don't stop' repeated as a breathless mantra as he'd brought her closer to the edge.
He'd had to fight smug smile of pride at the sight of uptight Hermione Granger melting at this touch. He let it break across his face now, his chest puffing out. He knew it was stupid, but he felt like the most powerful wizard to walk the earth, the effect he had on her feeling nothing short of magic, much like the effect she had on him. He'd had to relieve some of the tension several times when he'd gotten back that night, stumbling into the baths and slamming into bliss with a ferocity that surprised him.
'I want you to touch me' Draco cleared his throat as he heard her words again, it was like she was sitting beside him, bottom lip between her teeth and a blush to match her red sweater. Why in Merlin's name had she said it? By Salazar, he was glad that she had, each word having a music to it that felt like the lure of a Veela. He'd even considered that she was a Veela for a moment, especially when she'd breathed his name.
Draco rested his head against the cool brick, hoping it would calm him down enough so he could enter the common room without getting awkward questions about the tent he was pitching in the front of his trousers. He couldn't wait for them to meet again. Would she touch him? He could practically feel her nervous fingers dancing across his skin, feel the grip of her delicate hand.
"Come on, Malfoy, get a grip," He groaned, scrubbing his hands across his face and breathing deeply. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't see her, she was busy again with Merlin only knew what. As always, she was shifty and secretive with anything Potty and Weasley related and he'd given up asking, but at that moment he found himself not caring. Neither of them had seen Hermione the way he had, tasted her the way he had.
He shook his head taking a deep breath before entering the Slytherin common room, pausing in the doorway. Something was wrong, he felt it instantly and all thoughts of Hermione were chased away. The Slytherin Common room was never a busy place, sure there'd been moments when they'd all gathered together (usually when Theo planned one of his games), but on a normal day, it was pretty empty. Now when Draco scanned the room, he noted that there were students gathered from all years, huddled in small groups that circled the main seating area, their necks craned to look at something that was blocked from Draco's view. Several people turned to look at him when he let the door close behind him. He glanced to the one corner and noticed that Daphne was whispering furiously at Theo, her hands making soothing gesturing as the boy fumed, fists balled at his sides.
"Did I miss the party," Draco smirked, trying to make light of the worry that was curling in his gut?
"Draco mate," Blaise was on his feet peering over the crowd and gesturing for the group to part to let his friend through, "you need to see this." Draco wasn't sure that he did, whatever it was it clearly couldn't be good. He wanted to wallow in the happiness just a bit more, he deserved at least that much.
He stepped through the crowd in time to see Blaise tell a couple of second years to shift. Draco settled down where they had vacated, and Blaise handed him a copy of the Quibbler.
"Page four mate. That spectacled shite has done it now, even Theo's furious."
He opened the magazine with shaking fingers, ignoring the other Slytherins as they closed in, peering over his shoulder as he read out the title of the article.
"Harry Potter speaks out at last: the truth about he-who-must-not-be-named and the night I saw him return." He could hear his heart racing in his chest, feel the breath being sucked out the entirety of his body, because Potty being his usual attention-whore self was bearable, at times even amusing to witness, but this had a flare to it that was above and beyond the dense unicorn-by-the-horn approach that Potty applied to every situation. This had smarts about it, finesse. This type of sneakiness to a fair amount of genius, the type of genius that looked suspiciously like Granger.
"He's saying you-know-who killed Diggory and that your dad, Crabbe, Goyle's and Theo's dads are all death eaters," Blaise shook his head, a frown furrowing his brow.
"Sounds like sommat you'd read in Nairy Nue novel," Afius Bogen grumbled, causing the sofa to lurch as he leant his great bulk on the back of it.
"Didn't peg you as a Nue-nymph," Blaise murmured, pursing his lips to hide an amused smirk. Nue-nymphs were the names given to fans of Nairy Nue's work, her mystery novels known for their twisty turny qualities. Her plots sprouted wings and zipped straight to the bizarre and unexpected without any prior warning. The bog-standard Nue-Nymph was a bored house-witch whose life mastering cleaning spells needed a little bit of livening up and Nairy took them there with the speed of a Firebolt Supreme. Afius Bogen was the furthest from a bored house-witch, being built like a brick broom house and standing just shy of 7ft, long shaggy hair hiding features that made the first year's quake in their oversized robes.
"Mom loves her bilge, can't get away from them," Bogen sniffed, and a couple of the uprooted second years turned to gaze at the boy as if they couldn't rightly believe that such a mystical being could have something as normal as a 'mom'.
"Fuck," Draco whispered, sitting back and rubbing his face, hoping to wipe away the worry and look as though he didn't care. But he did care. Cared all too much.
"It's a shyster mate, I mean we all know super specs ain't happy unless he's the centre of attention, but this is ridiculous," Sebastian shook his head, wrapping his arm around Anrose who nodded her head in agreement, patronising sympathy in the curve of her eyebrows.
It was a shyster, it was ridiculous because he was certain that Hermione knew better. Potter had always been a slave to the hero complex that had been blasted onto his forehead as a baby, but Hermione knew how messy things could be. They'd seen it in Mina and Edwards memories time and time again, how all the good things had been buried underneath the reality of the world they lived in, how there were no heroes, just people trying to do the best they could with the situations that were handed to them on the pathetic platter of circumstance.
"Bogen said he saw Crabbe crying in his room, didn't like his dad being called a killer, you know, after what happened with his mom," Matty Owes whispered conspiratorially, nodding towards the corner of the room where Crabbe was sulking, his face all puffy, Pansy beside him attempting to console him.
Crabbe's mother had been murdered when the boy was a child, it was never discovered who committed such an ac, but Draco himself had heard talk that suspicions had turned to Crabbe's own father, but there'd been no substantial evidence. As much as he hated to admit it, Draco could understand the rumours, Crabbe senior, much like Goyle senior, was a cruel man that never treated his wife or his son with any particular kindness.
"I wouldn't go telling too many people that nugget of information, Owes," Anrose warned.
"We're all with you on this, mate. That twat has gone too far." Draco jumped as Bogen clapped him on the shoulder, sure that it would leave a bruise.
"Speak for yourself, the wizarding world deserves to know the truth," Ehrman scoffed, brushing off an embarrassed Murdridge as he tried to get his boyfriend to sit down.
Ehrman was known for being the devil's advocate on most subjects, deliberate antagonising most students by always asserting the opposite to whatever argument they put forward. Even Pansy's 'putting a good word in for Murdridge' had consisted of saying what an arse he was within earshot of the boy.
"Assuming that this shite is the truth." Blaise countered.
"Why would Potter lie? I mean none of us like him, but you have to admit it doesn't seem like this style," Ehrman shrugged and Anrose turned angrily, crossing her arms with attitude.
"Are you sure you don't like him because it sounds like your considering dating the arsehole?"
"Nice comeback Anrose, you think that one up all on your own."
"Watch your mouth, Ehrman, or I'll re-arranging it," Sebastian warned.
"Oh, look at me, shaking with fear," he bit back sarcastically, smirking when Anrose stepped in the way of Sebastian's warpath.
Their voices faded out as Draco got lost in his own thoughts. Ehrman was right, it wasn't Potter's style. As far as the rest of the wizarding world was concerned though, he couldn't care less whether they deserved to know, all he cared about was the safety of his mom and the fact that Granger, despite all the progress they'd made, had betrayed him. He couldn't even think past the pain in his chest, staring blankly at the article in front of him, not registering the words beyond the crushing realisation that all the progress he and Hermione had been made had been irrevocably damaged.
"Will you just calm down?" Blaise called, standing up and appealing to Sebastian and Ehrman who's verbal blows were edging toward violent stabs.
"Tell him, he's the knob that thinks Harry Potter is perfect," Sebastian spat.
"Oh please, don't be so dramatic, just because I happen to think he wouldn't lie about something like this, does not mean that I think he's perfect. Far from it in fact." He looked to Murdridge for support and the boy begrudgingly nodded, not meeting anyone's gaze.
"You think my dad is a murderer?" Everyone in the room froze and turned towards the entrance to the common room, several of the younger student gulping as they saw Goyle; his face red and fists balled at his side
"Greg, sweet, calm down," Pansy called, hurrying across the room and standing between him and Ehrman.
"Yeah mate, I'm sure even Rugg ain't that stupid," Afius joked, moving to stand by Pansy's side. He was the only one that could realistically stop Goyle if he decided he wanted to beat his annoyance into the side of Ehrman Rugg's head.
"I'm not saying that, but should we really be ignoring the fact that You-know-who could be back?"
"Fuck Ehrman, you fancy yourself a Gryffindor, so what if you-know-who is back? What difference does it make to us?" Sebastian shrugged.
"Says the aristocrat's son with the pure bloodline."
"And your point, Owes?"
"It's just not something that you would think about, your family aren't exactly going to be at risk are they."
"You're a regular little expert on the subject, aren't you Owes?" Draco said coldly, glaring at the boy beside him, till he stuttered an apology and moved. None of them had any idea, arguing from the safety of the common room like they were experts. None of them knew the real threat, how much danger they were all in, regardless of their blood, regardless of their loyalties.
"Ehrman's right."
"Oh really? And what's got you so brave, Murdridge?" Owes asked, glad to turn everyone's attention to someone else.
"Ehrman's rubbed off on him, quite literally," Anrose sniffed.
"Har, Har, Anrose. Will you all just engage your brains for a second. We've been complaining about Umbridge and the changes she's made. If that frog woman can make changes imagine what you-know-who could do?"
"Don't bad mouth Umbridge." Sebastian rolled his eyes.
"I'm not going to hear any more of yours and Goyle's weird obsession with that bloody woman.
"Come and say that to my face Coridge, I'll knock the words back down your throat," Crabbe threatened.
"Try it, Crabbe and I'll hex you into next Christmas."
"Everyone, calm down, seriously we're fighting about a bunch of crap written by Skita of all people, compliments of Potty. It's ridiculous."
"Shut your mouth, Parkinson," Crabbe spat.
"I don't care how big you are Crabbe, you speak to Pans like that again, I end you." If anyone else had said the same thing the whole room would have erupted in laughter, but it was Blaise and even Crabbe had the intelligence to genuinely look afraid. Blaise may not have been a big guy, but he had earned himself a reputation in his first year when someone had said a few too many things about his mother.
"Blaise it's okay, we're all on edge, we just need to calm down," Pansy assured him.
"Yeah, I mean how much traction is an article in the Quibbler going to get," Theo grinned and the tension in the room eased a little.
"Remember the article about Black, they tried to make out he wasn't a murderer. I mean, hello, he went to Azkaban, you don't just go there for fun." Anrose agreed, jumping as Draco stood quickly, taking the magazine with him and storming out of the room.
"Think, Malfoy's got the right idea," Sebastian nodded, several of his housemates agreeing with him as the door to the common room slammed closed.
Ginny ducked as one of Ron's spells went shot over her head and sparked against the wall.
"Seriously, Ron?"
"Sorry," Ron mumbled, hunching his shoulders and attempting the spell again, face scrunched in concentration.
"Honestly sometimes I think he should practice with a stick before he even attempts the spell," Ginny shook her head before turning back to Hermione, grinning as she leant closer, "So you were saying, he gave you the bracelet." Hermione nodded, her face warming as her friend nudged her to continue the story.
Ginny had been on to her ever since valentines to find out what Draco Malfoy had planned for them both and Hermione had frequently found ways to avoid her, burying her head in OWL's preparation or feigning important duties that really couldn't be avoided. Now though there was no running and Ginny was being persistent, peppering her with questions that had slowly but surely eeked out the evening till there was only one thing left to tell.
"And that's it," Hermione nearly winced when she heard how unconvincing she sounded. Ginny narrowed her eyes for a second before realisation dawned, her mouth dropping open.
"Merlin Mione, did you? Godric, you did, didn't you? You and Malfoy." Hermione's cheeks flamed as she hurried to shush her friend.
"Shush, keep your voice down. And it's not like that, I mean, not entirely like that."
"What happened? You have to tell me."
"Well, he might have you know…" Hermione gestured uncomfortably, and Ginny grinned.
"No. Really? Was it good?" Hermione couldn't meet her gaze, but she knew her face said everything, it had been amazing. The way he had touched made her think that he could read her mind and the way he looked at her…she felt breathless thinking about it.
"Did you return the favour?" Ginny wiggled eyebrows and Hermione shushed her again.
"No I didn't he said that…he said that the night was about me and making me feel good."
"Geez, are you sure we are talking about the same Malfoy?"
"Honestly, he's…I don't know Ginny, he's not what I expected, he's so considerate," Hermione shook her head when she realised how soft she sounded, "Oh shut up," Hermione murmured when Ginny started giggling.
"What I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to; I can practically read it on your face."
"What, that I think it's adorable and that you might be a great thing for someone as pompous as Draco Malfoy."
"I mean he hasn't been pompous to me in a while. He's actually quite funny."
"He took the article well then?" Hermione paused and cast a quick hex, watching with satisfaction as it smashed into a dementor dummy.
"I don't know that he's read it yet, he hasn't said anything."
If she was honest, they hadn't really seen each other since Valentines, both of them just making do with lingering glances that brought to mind how good he'd made her feel and sent a shiver down her spine. For the first time in her whole life, she found herself resenting the amount of schoolwork she had on. Not that she didn't enjoy it, she just found her mind wandering away to Draco related places.
"So, what happens when he does read it?" She didn't like Ginny's insinuation, but she had to concede that she had a point. Malfoy was touchy about anything that related to his family and she was pretty sure that Harry calling his father a murderer would not go down well.
"I mean, I'm sure he'll get angry, but we've disagreed before."
"Understatement of the century,"
"And we've managed to settle our differences."
"Or pretend that they don't matter and stop talking about them."
"That too," Hermione agreed with a grin, turning to Ginny, a frown creasing her forehead, "What if he doesn't take it well."
Ginny bit her lip to stop her knee jerk reaction to any issue Hermione had with Draco Malfoy. It was difficult not to hear that blonde Slytherins name without wanting to tell Hermione to steer clear of him. But there was no denying how happy Hermione seemed or how relaxed, even with the stress of OWL's looming she seemed a lot easier going than she had been in previous years.
"I don't know what to tell you, you've said you've argued before and he's always seemed to come around?" Ginny shrugged and Hermione nibbled her bottom lip.
"Come around wouldn't exactly be the right way to phrase it."
"The point is at some point this stuff is going to be out in the open, I mean look at everything we are planning here," Ginny gestured around her, and Hermione's head dipped, knowing that everything the younger girl was saying was true. Sneaking off with Draco and having their own adventures was a welcome and wonderful distraction, but eventually, they would have to face reality and acknowledge the fact that, while he might not have been against her, his family certainly were.
"Isn't it better that you actually have this talk sooner rather than later, you know before things get more serious?" Hermione nodded sadly; they were a good way past getting serious.
"I just think…" Hermione paused when she felt the familiar tingle in the pocket of her robe that let her know that Draco had sent her a message through their secret scroll. Hermione glanced around at, eyeing up the Weasley twins. There was no chance of keeping anything secret when in the vicinity of them.
"Don't worry I've got you," Ginny stated, quickly casting a spell, her dementor dummy exploding into flames. Hermione quickly pulled the scroll out of her pocket and felt her heart race at the words scrawled in his neat handwriting. I need to talk to you.
Hermione rushed down the corridor, her step faltering when she was him leaning against the wall. His anger she'd been prepared for, but he looked so broken; magazine dangling loosely in his fingers, he looked as if the world had collapsed around him and he was standing amidst the rubble trying to figure out how to put it back together. He looked up and Hermione froze, letting him close the distance between them slowly, a tired look on his face.
"You did this?" There was no accusation, he just proffered a battered copy of The Quibbler and she glanced down at it before looking up into his eyes, silently pleading for him not to be angry.
"I…Yes," she sighed, seeing no point in lying.
"Why?" His voice cracked and she watched his jaw clench, tears shimmering in his grey eyes.
Hermione took a deep breath, this was it, the sooner rather than later conversation that Ginny had spoken about. This was both of them facing the facts of reality, it was needed even though her heart hurt as she spoke.
"You have to know that I believe Harry and he needed to get his side of the story out there. People need to know the truth."
"I couldn't give a flying fuck what Potty needs, Granger. This," he jabbed at the magazine violently and Hermione jumped, "this is my family. My family. I mean come on, Granger, murderers? Is that what you think of me?"
"No not you."
"Just my dad," though he was making a point the word 'dad' felt wrong as he said it. Whenever he thought of his father all he could feel was the stabbing of the Crucio curse as it worked its way through his body.
"I believe Harry."
"Shut up, just shut up about, Potty. This isn't about that twat; this is exactly the kind of shit I expect of him. This is about me and you, Granger. Merlin, I trusted you, and you do this? I can't believe I felt…"
"Felt? Felt what?" Draco shook his head.
"It doesn't matter now." Hermione blinked past the tears that were threatening to form in her eyes.
"Doesn't matter? Just like that?"
"I think in light of this monstrosity I can be forgiven for changing my mind" Draco bit out, waving the magazine in her face. Hermione scoffed, slapping it away, glad at least that now he was making her angry as well as breaking her heart.
"Well if your mind changes that easily then whatever you 'felt' couldn't have been that strong."
"Don't turn this on me, Granger, you're the one that screwed up."
"It's amazing how conveniently you forget all the times you have done the same thing to me and my friends. You practically chewed Skita's ear off to get your vitriol published."
"I never attacked your family." Hermione let out a loud humourless laugh, hardly able to believe her ears.
"Are you kidding me?"
"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer, Granger."
"Oh please, all the shit you've given me over the years for being muggle-born. What was that? Just a misunderstanding?"
"That's different and you know it."
"I'd love to know how." Draco leant close to her; his grey eyes dark with anger.
"You called my father a murderer, Granger, my friends' fathers too. They could go to fucking prison." Hermione flinched when he spat the words in her face, and she fought to keep her cool.
"You don't know that."
"And you don't know that he won't."
"If there was any chance that they did have something to do with Diggory's death, then they deserve to go to prison." Hermione swallowed the sadness she felt when she saw the hurt in Draco's eyes.
"Merlin, Granger, this isn't a point-scoring exercise, this is my life, my family's life."
"I'm not trying to score points," Hermione spat, annoyed that he would even think that of her, "I'm trying to help my friend do the right thing. If we can make a difference before more people get hurt…"
"Me and my family clearly don't count as people then." Draco threw the magazine at her feet and Hermione looked at it, opening and closing her mouth several times before glaring up at him.
"You cannot compare a tarnished reputation with the death of Cedric. Malfoy, I am on about actually saving people's lives, as in stopping them from getting killed."
"And how do you know that isn't what I'm on about?"
"What do you mean?" Hermione queried
"Nothing," Draco shook his head, glancing down at Hermione's feet and sighing, "so you believe this drivel? You think we are enemies?"
"What? Why would we be enemies? Things are – things are different between us now."
"Are they?"
"How can you even ask that? You know they are," despite her anger Hermione blushed at the thought of how intimate they had been.
"How can they be when you encouraged Potter to play his mouth?"
"Who said I encouraged him," Hermione argued, hating how right he was.
"Oh please, Granger that crap has you written all over it, I can practically feel your Know-it-allness in every word."
"I refuse to apologise for helping my friend, this was the right thing to do."
"Well isn't this a stinging hex to the face, thank Merlin that you sent that my way before I actually wasted some serious time on you and your warped do-good morals."
"Wasted your time?" Hermione breathed, a tear falling down her cheek that she swiped away angrily, "I honestly don't know why I'm surprised, the first hint of things not going your way and you devolve into this petty prick. You're not in any position to judge me, the things you've done are a thousand times worse and all for the sake of being mean."
"This isn't some petty paddy, Granger, it's my fucking family."
"So you've said."
"Are you dense? Is none of this sinking past that fizzy mane of yours? Your stunt has real-world consequences, real-world shit, Granger. While your galivanting getting crap published in magazines to 'save lives' people could get hurt, did you think about that? Did you even pause in your grand little scheme to consider the damage you could do?"
"Your family name has survived way worse than this, I think that you'll be okay."
As soon as the words left Hermione's mouth, she regretted them, her eyes widening as she watched a tear fall down Draco's cheek. She found herself crying with him, she could feel their bubble of bliss crumbling to nothingness round them around them and falling in a hapless pile next to the Quibbler.
"You still think that of me, after all…" Draco turned from her to glare the wall, wiping his cheek, "after everything…"
"Malfoy I…"
"Save it, fucking…I can't…" Draco shrugged, "Enemies, right?"
"It doesn't have to be that way, I – look what whatever is going on with you we could help." Draco laughed and Hermione felt him slipping away from her, back behind the pompous mask he used to wear.
"You're all the same, you Gryffindors, you're so set on doing the right thing, riding in on your griffins and saving the day, so stupidly blinkered to anything but being the hero you don't have a clue about the damage you do on the way."
"How can the right thing ever be wrong?" Hermione whispered, hearing the lack of conviction in her own question, because nothing about this, about him, slowly backing away from her, felt right.
"Well I don't know about you, but this feels like shit to me."
"This doesn't have to change anything." But she knew that it did, even as she said the words and wanted to believe them, she knew that Draco was drawing away from her again. It was for the best, the differences between them were too great and with the impending problem of Voldemort, there was no space for her loyalties to be torn between the way she felt about the Slytherin and what needed to be done. She knew this was this truth, but she couldn't stop the ache in her heart and the way all of her longed for him to come back to her and hold her.
Hermione knelt down and gently picked up the Quibbler her tears dripping onto the page, realising that she was an idiot to think that their differences wouldn't find a way to come between them, but she couldn't help the wish that, at some point, they no longer would.