Hermione snuggled deeper into her soft pillow and sighed. Drifting in that coveted space between asleep and awake that had been missing from her life for months. She felt safe enough, secure enough, to just enjoy waking. No need to guard against enemies, no need to reach for her wand, no painful breath, no racing heart. Her thumb rubbed against her new ring, feeling as though it was a part of her that had been missing and she opened her eyes. The light in the room was soft and golden, the bed she was in cozy and warm, the pillows, as previously noted, ridiculously fluffy. She turned on her back in curiosity to look around and found herself in a lavish bedroom decorated in white and cream and was quite lovely.
The exhaustion from before had vanished and Hermione felt more alert and more rested than she could ever remember. She pushed her covers off, swung her legs around, and got to her feet. The carpet under her bare toes was deep and lush and Hermione sighed in pleasure as she padded across the room to take a look in the mirror. She was still in her floaty white gown, no one had been so presumptuous as to change her. The dress must have had been dried by magic since the silk had not wrinkled one bit, it was still as flawless and soft as when she had first put it on. Her hair had also retained some of the prepping from her bath as it was not a complete wild mess, but her curls were less tight and rioted about her face and shoulders in loose spirals.
She glanced around for shoes and found none, but her wand was placed carefully on a stand next to the bed. A quick charm to check the time confirmed her guess that she had slept a little more than an hour. She was halfway planning to wind her wand up in her hair the way she sometimes did when she noticed the holster set beside it. Ridiculously expensive in the store, Ron had been coveting one. She considered not taking it, but that seemed almost petty in the wake of the commitment she had just made, so she fastened the holser around her right forearm and slipped her wand inside. It was an ingenious design really. All she had to do was press her thumb down on her palm to send her wand shooting into her waiting fingers, and once everything was in place the whole contraption became completely invisible.
Finding the room bare of any other personal effects, she supposed she ought to track down her friends and her shoes and get back to school. Still, she took a few moments just to be alone and enjoy the new feeling of closeness with her magic, knowledge of herself, security in her abilities. She felt brand new, as if she'd been born again. Each breath was lighter, each step was surer. Her usual timid second guessing on hiatus for the moment. She hadn't realized how much pressure she had put herself under until it was lifted from her. She felt so light that it was a miracle she didn't just float away.
She might have stood there forever if the overwhelming gnawing hunger that was becoming increasingly demanding didn't drive her into motion.
Poking her head out the door she found a sitting room full of fluffy white couches and her friends. None of whom looked as serene or rested as she felt. She stepped out to greet them and was swarmed immediately with warm hugs and touches. Malfoy's voice cut across the welcoming chatter with his usual drawl. "Here she is, safe and sound, as promised."
Seeing that her friends needed her reassurance and, realizing that collapsing after a magical ceremony was probably frightening for them, she was quick to agree with Malfoy, "Yes, I'm completely fine. I was just tired out, honestly."
Ron slipping a possessive arm about her waist felt extremely uncomfortable, magic prickling across her nerve endings as his touch skirted the edges of the vows she had taken, but she stood fast anyway, refusing to shrug him off. She turned to face Malfoy, finding him properly dressed and watching them with that smug amused look that was becoming familiar, and she couldn't help but give him a small smile. There were a thousand things that she wanted to say. Giving thanks, expressing relief, questions about where to go from here. But what came out of her mouth was, "You wouldn't happen to know where my shoes are stashed, would you?"
"Those hideous clogs?" he questioned, one eyebrow going up in disdain. "I've thrown them out. No worries, I've had a servant aquire you decent footwear. It's in the dressing room with your other personal effects."
He gestured towards the appropriate door, and Hermione couldn't help letting out a startled laugh. She had been so worried that this engagement would change everything, but all it took was for Malfoy to open his mouth to remind her that he was still the same spoilt, entitled swot he'd always been. The only thing that had changed was her insane desire to pull him in close and hug him, warts and all. In a strange way, it was comforting. Also, it was still critical that she didn't let Malfoy get away with his bad behavior, keep those lines in the sand freshly drawn. No matter how fond and fluffy her feelings for him seemed to currently be.
"Malfoy!" she exclaimed, trying to sound firm. Yes, she hated the shoes, but he had no business tossing away her things or replacing them for that matter. "You can't just throw out my things!"
She might have carried on a bit more, let him know how serious she was, but her attention was diverted as a cart was wheeled into the room, letting off absolutely delicious smells. The servant ignored her, making his way in a professional manner to a little nook with a table and beginning to unload several silver platters full of food.
"How about we eat and you can yell at me later?" Malfoy suggested.
That sounded absolutely wonderful.
She felt a moment's pause, remembering that she had been invited to dine with Mrs. Malfoy, but Draco went on, casually twirling his wand and smirking at her. "Lucky for you, you managed to crash all through my mother's dinner. So it will just be us."
Oh, no. She had slept through a formal dinner. How embarrassing. And had all her friends waited till she woke to eat? It was a weird feeling though. She felt a little sheepish, but the gnawing overwhelming guilt she was accustomed to feeling when she put others out, the self-conscious embarrassment, was absent. She had required sleep, and there was no need to apologize for it. And if her friends had chosen to wait, that was their decision. Still, manners dictated she say something. "Please convey my apologies to your mother for missing dinner,"
He waved her concerns away with that smug half smile of his and started herding everyone towards the table. Ron didn't let go of her, making walking a bit awkward, but she let him cling.
"After that display of physical magic, you could have set the Manor on fire and she still would have been pleased," Malfoy reassured her flatly, shooting her a look, rolling his eyes a bit. She bit back an amused smile since she could feel Ron's tension radiating through him and didn't want to do anything that might be construed as flirting.
Malfoy pulled out her chair, and Hermione was grateful for the reason to disentangle herself from Ron. Not only did it feel physically awkward, but it was clear that Ron was marking his territory, and her magical bindings didn't like it. Coming closer to Malfoy also set off all her magical nerve endings, making her aware of him, aware of his closeness. It was a new feeling, but safe and comfortable. She might have enjoyed the sensation, the closeness with him, if it didn't contrast so sharply with her awkward lack of magical connection with Ron.
Also, she felt weird at having nothing to say. Once, having her magical power acknowledged, any complimentary commentary on her, would have her blushing and trying to deflect. But now there was just warm acceptance. She was a powerful witch. That was just who she was. She did feel just a little out of sync in her floaty, clingy, slightly revealing dress. This wasn't something she would choose to wear, and her bare feet certainly kept her fleeing options to a minimum. But the shyness she might have felt before seemed to have vanished. Still, all in all, it was a relief to step into place at the table and have Malfoy slide her chair in as she sat.
Only manners kept her hands on her lap till everyone was seated. She was ravenous. She wanted to just dive face first into the food and devour it like Ron after a three year fast. The second Malfoy reached for a roll she was filling her plate and ignoring the awkward looks of her friends. She knew they didn't want to be sitting here at the table at Malfoy Manor having a meal. They did need to get back to Hogwarts and have a meeting about their next course of action as soon as possible. But it wouldn't hurt to scarf down some of this roast first, and maybe another roll, and maybe some soup, and some of those greens, and my, this wine was tasty...she better wash that down with some cold crisp water. Mmmmm….bacon, and lovely little round cheeses, oh and more bread.
"Did any ministry people show up while I was out?" she questioned, once the overwhelming need to feed herself started to abate and she could think about something else other than food.
"No, they are too busy dealing with the Potter fiasco to be worried about where you have run off to." Malfoy produced a paper and handed it across the table. Hermione was acutely aware of the tiniest brushing of his fingers against hers as she grasped the paper but was quickly distracted from her own situation when she got a look at the front page.
"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" She demanded, looking up at a sheepish Harry and Ginny. "Hell, why didn't you owl me at home?"
"We didn't want to distract you from your own dealings," Ginny told her gently, reaching over and squeezing her hand. "You knew we were planning on going forward with telling people."
Hermione noted how Ginny carefully only admitted to wanting to tell people about her pregnancy. She very cleverly did not mention in front of Malfoy that they had gotten pregnant on purpose deliberately to skirt the marriage law. Still, this turn of events was awful, and she should have been there to support her friends instead of hiding out at home to panic about her stupid engagement. She quickly skimmed over the article, lighting fast, to get caught up. The photo was of Mr. Weasley dragging his daughter through the ministry with an angry red face while Ginny sobbed, trying to keep up. The article gave further details, none of them complimentary. Harry was painted as a charleton who had stolen Ginny's virtue and callously and irresponsibly gotten her pregnant. Ginny was portrayed as some vapid, stupid, selfish girl who had besmirched her family name and honor by being a loose tramp. And Mr. Weasley seemed to be absolutely furious wanting Harry to be held accountable by the law. The whole article was straight up nasty.
"It's okay, Hermione, we knew this would happen," Harry told her, straightening his glasses and giving her a reassuring smile. "We felt the best way to protect Ginny was to have her father reveal the pregnancy and demand I be held accountable and marry her immediately. We knew the press would rip us apart, but who cares as long as we are able to be together? I've certainly had worse said about me in the press before."
Hermione could care less about the sodding press. She turned to her friend, putting a supportive arm around her shoulders, hunger forgotten. "Is your father really so angry?" she asked quietly.
Ginny gave a little laugh and squeezed Hermione back. "I knew they would be pretty upset if I was pregnant before I was married. But it's hardly like that picture. Dad is just hamming up for the camera." Ginny's eyes drifted just slightly towards Malfoy before darting away again, and Hermione understood that she would not be getting the full story and situation until they were in private. Ginny went on in a breezy, it's no big deal tone. "As long as I get married right away, my family will be fine. And my dad is insisting on literally as soon as possible; we have court in the morning for him to demand Harry do right by me immediately."
"I think the particularly nasty tone of this press release is to discourage other parties from trying the same ploy," Malfoy put in, having a sip of his wine and watching them all with that carefully observant way of his. "There are several articles about the situation, and they are all piling on the shaming technique. Articles attacking Hogwarts for allowing students to run about like heathens, wanting to reinstate abstinence only education at the school, wondering about the provocative environment of a home with seven children. They are trying to embarrass the family so badly that other girls won't consider this an option."
Hermione glanced at the byline and saw red. Rita Skeeter. That bitter old bitch had better watch out before she found herself spending the rest of her life trapped in a jar. Suddenly cautious, she looked around to see if there was anywhere a beetle might be hiding.
"The Manor is secure," Malfoy assured her, and she wondered if she should let him know Skeeter was an animagus or if she should keep some information in reserve. In the wake of the engagement, her feelings had shifted, and she was finding it more difficult to not bring Malfoy into her inner circle and share all she knew. But some of these secrets were not her own, and it would be wise to take things slowly. She had to remind herself that this trust and warmth she felt was mostly magically manufactured and would fade with time and distance from the spells they had undergone, probably. She touched her thumb to the back of her ring, caressing the metal, and flipped through the paper to get a look at the other articles.
"Public opinion is a really important strategy piece," Ron interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to find that he was staring at her hand where she was stroking her ring, and she abruptly stopped the motion. "They had a head start on us for weeks with their 'end pureblood supremacy' campaign."
Ron took a furious bite of bread before going on. "Then they smeared Hermione, calling into question her mental health and devaluing her anti-law stance. Now they have gone after Harry and Ginny, suggesting they have devalued marriage with their slutty ways. What we need is a counter-scandal. It's time for us to launch our own media statement. How goes the progress for your lawsuit? Can we bring that into the public eye yet?"
"I can talk to my lawyer," Hermione answered, something tugging at the back of her mind. "If you think the public image is important, we can leak some details ahead of time before I launch the actual suit."
Ron gave Malfoy a sidelong look, clearly uncomfortable with having him in a strategy meeting. Hermione could understand his unease, but Malfoy was a part of this too, was an excellent ally, and God help her, she trusted him. She touched the back of her ring once more before forcing herself to stop.
Ron went on in a thoughtful tone. "I think the element of surprise would be better there, if it still exists. How did you find out about it?"
This last question was directed at Malfoy and was an excellent point. Malfoy had brought up her super secret lawsuit during his confession yesterday. No one was supposed to know except her lawyer, herself, and Ron.
Malfoy didn't seem overly concerned about knowing her secrets; he gave a careless shrug. "It's definitely only rumor at this point. I'm sure your lawyer is trustworthy, but he does have a legal team that works under him who might have gossiped. I'd recommend moving forward as soon as possible."
"The money!" Hermione blurted out, suddenly realizing what had been tugging at the corner of her mind. "If we are searching for a counter-scoundal, then we ought to investigate where the money from the bride price goes. My lawyer told me the Ministry was taking a percentage for administration costs and for rebuilding efforts. Where is that money really going? I know for a fact that Hogwarts restoration was all paid for by private donation, and where else really needs massive funds to be rebuilt?"
It was an idea worthy of discussion and made the rest of the meal go smoother. They decided to have Ronald contact the press with his 'concerns' while Malfoy had his lawyers research the money trail. That kept Malfoy's dubious money connections out of it, didn't involve Harry who was currently being smeared, or Hermione who was already suing. So they had two different fronts of attack so far. Plus Hermione was supposed to be meeting with Malfoy's legal team to go over their thirteen point challenge to the law. With everything having gone so sideways lately, Hermione didn't want to get her hopes up, but they had a very good, very solid plan for getting out of this law. She decided that for the sake of her mental health to go ahead and be optimistic.
Hermione lifted a spoon to her lips full of soup and abruptly was no longer able to take a single bite. It seemed her ridiculous ravenous hunger had finally been sated. She put the spoon back down untouched and mused for a moment about how her magical expenditure today had caused such a physical need for refueling. A day of heavy spellcasting always resulted in an empty stomach, but she had never experienced such a severe reaction. Where had all that food gone? Her stomach was only so big, and usually she was a dainty eater. She couldn't remember ever reading anything that talked about hunger being a physical reaction, though she had noticed it in passing. She mentally added the subject to her personal list of research topics.
Ron was wiping his mouth and pushing his chair back, and she gave him her full attention. "I hate to run on you Hermione, but I have a meeting with Alice in Hogsmeade to talk about a possible contract."
Oh! That was good. He was talking to Alice. Hermione stood quickly to get a hug in, and Harry and Ginny stood, too.
"We have to get going too," Ginny said as she leaned in for a hug. "We are supposed to be at the Burrow to have a final strategy meeting before the court case tomorrow."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Hermione asked, feeling slightly intrusive, especially since Harry and Ginny exchanged a look before answering.
"Not tonight. We've pretty much got this locked down. But we may need you to go with us tomorrow. If they do a wedding on the spot, I'll want you to stand up with me." Harry answered and Hermione gasped.
"So soon?"
Harry stepped in for his hug and gave her an extra squeeze.
"We hope so, Dad can demand an immediate courthouse rectification for the sake of my defiled honor. We'd like to be legally married before they can squirrel out of it." Ginny tugged on Harry's arm, getting him walking, and Hermione trailed along behind. Through the door, down the stairs. "I'll check in with you after we get back to Hogwarts to go over everything."
Malfoy joined them on the short walk, and Hermione was intensely aware of him adjusting his speed so that he casually walked at her side. Not so close as to be intrusive, but close enough to reach out and touch him if she so chose. Ron noticed as well, veering into her space and taking her hand in a possessive manner. She was going to have to figure out some way to address Ron's physical overtures without upsetting him further. Her skin crawled at the contact, and she had to mentally stop herself from instinctively pulling away from his touch. Thankfully, it wasn't far to the now familiar Apparition room. Ron leaned in for a kiss, but she managed to adjust her face so he kissed a cheek instead of her lips. Hermione suppressed a sigh of relief when he released her hand.
Ron strode to the middle of the room and gave her a goodbye smile without dragging out a farewell and she was insanely grateful. Harry and Ginny were quick to get going as well, and in a matter of moments, they went from being a group of boisterous and comforting friends to Hermione standing in a room alone with her now fiance.
She could flee, leaving her things here. Or she could go back to get her things which meant spending more time alone with Malfoy. This was far more tempting an idea than it ought to be. For all the wrong reasons. She could also use this opportunity to ask her questions while they were fresh in her mind.
Draco didn't give her time to overthink it. He propped his shoulder up against the door frame in his now familiar leaning pose and opened the conversation himself in an unexpected direction.
"You are going to have to work on your acting skills if you plan on letting Weasley continue to paw at you without hurting his feelings."
Hermione felt her mouth fall open a bit in surprise and clicked it shut immediately. Crap. If Malfoy had noticed her discomfort, then Ginny definitely had and was probably dressing poor Ron down right this minute. Or maybe Malfoy just noticed because it had bothered him also.
"Did it bother you, magically?" she questioned, testing him. The problem with Malfoy was he seemed to always tell the truth. But the truth he told was layered and carefully contrived to give the answer he wanted to give without lying. He had told her the complete truth each time she had questioned him about his motives. But the more he revealed, the more clear it became that he hadn't told her everything. And if his mother was to be believed, there was even more he was holding back. He didn't lie, but he did manipulate the truth.
He shrugged in that casual way of his that seemed to say he didn't care, or something didn't matter. But what he was really doing was using body language to half ass answer the question, leaving a lot to her own interpretation. She needed to better understand how this magic between them worked so she clarified. "I mean, when Ron touched me, did it make you uncomfortable? Did you feel our vows reacting?"
A small smile escaped his lips, a puff of amused breath that hardly made a sound, a long blink. "Not our engagement vows, no. I wasn't violating those. But your extreme discomfort at his touch had my magic screaming to work its will and put Weasley through a wall so you might want to take that into account when dealing with him."
Hermione felt herself blushing and stared down at her bare toes. She hadn't violated their vows either, thank you very much. It was just a friendly touch. She was sure that Ron wouldn't consider that cheating and had not thought that she would reject such a simple touch. However, as Flamel had explained to her the day before, her own interpretation mattered. The innocent hug she had initiated hadn't bothered her, but Ron trying to stake a claim through touch had not been acceptable. Ron wanted Malfoy to see that she was still his girlfriend and no engagement was going to change anything. But it had changed everything, and she simply could not continue to mentally think of herself as Ron's girlfriend until this whole thing was annulled.
The thought of annuling her vows, of deliberately planning how to skirt them, had her physically sick in a heartbeat, and she pressed both hands to her middle in distress.
"You okay?" Malfoy had stepped closer, half reached out one arm to touch her, his voice low and concerned.
Hermione forced those thoughts away from her, physically shaking her head to rid them of her traitorous plans, and deciding to not think any further on her Ronald problems anytime soon.
"I'm fine,' she reassured, looking up and giving him her 'I'm fine' smile.
He didn't seem to buy it, but he let his arm fall without making contact and leaned back up against his 'side' of the doorframe. Hermione let herself relax enough to lean back as well, crossing her arms and willing her nausea away. She needed to speak about something else, and she had Malfoy all alone and staring at her, it was the perfect opportunity to quench her burning curiosity about his missing Dark Mark. She shouldn't ask. It was terribly rude and personal. But her overwhelming curiosity was justifying her rudeness. They were engaged. Surely that merited some licence when it came to personal information, regardless of the circumstances that brought her here. Maybe she could work up to it.
"What exactly is the path of knowledge? I've never read anything about it."
"You just walked it," he answered, seeming amused, but his eyes dipped just a bit, taking in her dress and suddenly she was much more aware of what she wearing. The low cut of the bodice, the way it fit her snugly, the way the fabric clung.
Trying to be casual, she drew some of her hair forward to offer her more coverage. "I know that," he definitely noticed, not hiding that he was watching her hands as she fussed with her hair. He wasn't leering, but he wasn't laughing either. Despite the fact that he was all the way over on his side of the door frame she was aware that he was aware of her as a girl. As a woman. He wasn't even trying to be cool and pretend that he wasn't.
"But what's the history? How did it come to be? What's it doing hidden under Malfoy Manor?"
She let her arms fall to her sides, and he gave her that now familiar slow sideways smirk that somehow made her think he knew all her secrets. "There's loads of books about it in our private library. If you are interested, it would be my pleasure to show you. I would ask that you respect our family's privacy and not share our personal lore with outsiders."
"I'm an outsider," her voice wavered with the lie of it.
"Not anymore," he answered, his voice low and warm and sincere and skittering over her senses in a way that felt too intense. She shouldn't be indulging that feeling, that awareness of the timber of his voice and the weight of his stare and just how close he was to her. The magic between them practically electric with his presence.
The moment stretched a little too long, his gaze just a little too warm. The silence between them seemed to echo, getting louder with each heartbeat.
"Is the path of knowledge how you got rid of your Dark Mark?" she blurted out, desperate to have something to say that had nothing to do with the physical effect he was having on her senses.
"I hated him, did you know that?" He lost eye contact for a moment, for the first time staring at the floor instead of her.
"Voldemort?" she questioned, confused. That overwhelming urge to comfort him stealing over her thoughts again at the pain in his voice.
"My father. He let the Death Eaters push me into getting the Mark, rushed me into becoming one of them. Not once did he warn me what I was getting into. It was bad enough that he got our family embroiled in this Voldemort mess but then to turn around and offer me, his only son, up as sacrifice? I hated him."
"You're not going to sit there and tell me you didn't understand what becoming a Death Eater meant!" Hermione hissed, adrenaline spiking through her unexpectedly, her spine snapping strait.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand," he said shaking his head at her, denying her ability to know his world while at the same time coming closer to her, trying to explain it. "Dark magic is part of my heritage, my culture. The Death Eaters were nothing more to me than an elite dark magic crew. Voldemort was gone, vanished for most of my childhood. And when he returned, it was celebrated. It wasn't until my father was in prison, my mother terrified, dark wizards taking shelter at our manor that the reality of what we were involved in hit me."
"Before I could do anything about it, I didn't have a choice," he spat bitterly. "It was take the Mark or watch my family get tortured and killed, or, if Voldemort was feeling merciful, maybe he would kill me first. There was no saying 'no' to the Dark Lord. No way out but death and blood and fire. Once I took that mark, he owned me. There was no escape, there were no easy choices." He pressed his lips together tightly, holding back whatever else he had to say. The magic between them almost crackled with his pain, and his eyes had gone dark with his memories. His harsh stare held her spellbound, making her breathless, keeping her silent. He went on in a softer tone, lower, sincere, swaying even closer to her than before. "Maybe I made the wrong choice. I don't know. But I'm still here, and my mother is alive and safe. And my rotten bastard father was who I blamed. I was glad of the Azkaban sentence, he deserved it for what he had done to us. A year and a day he sat in prison. No visitors, no letters, no respite from the Dementors tearing at his soul, only angry silence between us."
She noticed that he had drawn his arms up over his chest, one hand had clasped around his forearm, nails digging into clean. unmarked skin and found herself giving into instinct. She reached out and smoothed that harsh grip he had on himself, working his long, tense fingers loose as he went on, words coming too fast, his breath too labored. "Then one day I turned 17, and I lay claim to my heritage on the path of knowledge and everything changed. I was so ashamed to have doubted him, my own father. I should have trusted him," he whispered, now so close to her she could feel his breath on her lips. He clutched at the hand she had offered, pulling her in just a little more. Holding onto her instead of the memory of his tattoo. "Voldemort had backed him into a corner, taken his free will. But by pushing me to take the Mark early, forcing that timeline, he made sure that when I undertook my coming of age walk on the path of knowledge I could make my own choice. No Voldemort, no blood and ruin and blackmail. Just me and my magic. I could decide. Having me take my Mark early was probably the only possible solution that gave me an out that didn't mean everyone had to die."
She felt more than physically close to him. She felt connected, like when she'd made him promises in the garden, getting bound by magic. This time she felt bound by his secrets, by his private thoughts, that he was sharing with her. His pain wrapping around them as real as any magic spell.
"What if Voldemort hadn't been defeated?" she asked that terrible question, knowing he might pull back, might be furious. Still, she felt compelled to ask. "Would you have chosen differently on the path?"
"I don't know," he confessed, so close to her now she could see the flecks of silver in his gunmetal stare. "How does one know how they would react in a future that doesn't exist? I want to believe that I wouldn't have let fear shake me on my path. I want to be the kind of person who would have taken my power back, no matter the consequences. I want to be that brave. I don't have to be what others forced on me. I decide."
He repeated himself, sounding more certain. "I decide what kind of person I want to be."
She nodded, robbed of words and breath and ordered thoughts. She wanted to believe that too. That people could choose who they wanted to be. Her whole body vibrated with the power of her feelings, her skin awash with the magic between them, amplifying each emotion, highlighting the intense physical awareness of his warm hand wrapped around hers, his heartbeat pounding relentlessly under her touch, his scent, his warmth.
"Then there was you. My chance to earn my redemption. Forbidden. I don't deserve forgiveness, absolution." His words ghosted across her lips. Merlin, she felt drunk with the power of their connection. And she knew he was feeling it, too. Could feel his gaze on her like a caress. His intensity across the mere inches that separated them. How much of this was magic and how much of this was real? Did it matter?
This moment between them was real, no matter how they had gotten there or where they went from here. She wanted to pull him closer, taste his pain on her lips, wrap her body around him and offer the healing of touch and warmth. Body to body, mind to mind, soul to soul. Sanctify this experience with fire. Memorize him like a prayer.
His hand flexed on her hip, branding her with his warmth through the thin material of her dress, and she wondered when he had put it there. He pulled her just a bit closer, shifted her into his arms, and this was it, he was going to kiss her. He lowered his long lashes, staring at her mouth, his eyes hungry and needy and so dark with want she thought they might swallow her whole. She thought he might have moved in a tiny bit, lowered his head, but there was a harsh buzz and a reddening of the light in the Apparition room that had her jumping in her skin. She pulled back immediately and his hands sprang open, releasing her.
The loss of their physical connection snapped through her like broken elastic, and she almost shook with the shock of it.
"What was that?" she gasped, no control over her panting breath.
"Someone is trying to use the Apparition room." he answered the wrong damn question. "We are standing inside the magical parameter so it can't be used."
Malfoy stepped sideways out of their door frame, and Hermione gave into the need to escape and went the opposite way, into the room. She glanced over her shoulder as she fled and saw his lips open, calling for her to wait, but the sound of his voice was drowned out by the harsh crack of Apparition as she turned on the spot and left him behind.
Great big thank you to LightOfEvolution for reading through this chapter and doing a bang up Beta/Alpha job as always. In the vein of full disclosure I want to acknowledge that LightOfEvolution voted for full on Dramione kissage. I take all responsibility for all cliffhangery dramatic exits and lack of snogging.