I need to hear you say it, please say it." Hermione rasped, struggling to find her voice as she choked in breath after breath.
Malfoy looked sure as ever and took two measured steps toward Hermione. He stood close– so close she could feel his warmth. The smell of cedarwood enveloped her, what she knew to be his soap from the many mornings she'd entered the bathroom after his shower. Malfoy reached a hand around into the curls at the nape of her neck, his other hand cupped her jaw. His hand left a trail of heat where it touched her bare skin.
As they continued to watch one another, Hermione noted how utterly real the moment felt– as if Malfoy had entirely revealed himself to her, no more occlumency walls. As she waited for a reply, Malfoy brushed his thumb along her lower lip. Hermione shivered, gooseflesh encased her arms and she fought to keep her eyes open. She watched, enraptured, as his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
Malfoy returned his thumb to her jaw and finally spoke.
"She wasn't you ."
It was approximately two seconds before Hermione wrapped her hand into the soft tuft of hair at the base of Malfoy's neck and pulled him down to meet her in a bruising kiss. Their magic practically sang at the feeling of being reunited.
Hermione saw sparks again, as Malfoy's tongue swept along her bottom lip, seeking entry. He tasted of spearmint and Firewhisky, and Hermione moaned into his mouth, spurring him on. Her hand tightened its grip in his hair and she tugged lightly, eliciting a moan from Malfoy. He moved his hand from her jaw to low on her back, his fingertips brushing the curve of her arse. Malfoy walked her backwards until she met the wall with a soft thud.
Hermione felt overheated in the best way. Malfoy was everywhere. He had her pinned to the wall, the hand that had been tangled in her curls was now braced on the wall beside her head. The hand on her back worked its way down to her arse, his hand kneaded her flesh through her dress and she groaned.
Malfoy wedged a knee between her legs, the slit of her dress parting where it met high up on her thigh.
"Fucking perfect, you don't even know."
It was intense, it was more than Hermione had ever imagined would happen that night. She had this voice in the back of her head telling her they should slow down, but an even louder voice compelled her to go faster. As Malfoy's lips left her own to trail a path of heated kisses down her throat, her hips bucked as he sucked and laved at her pulse point with his tongue. The sigh of pure pleasure that left her lips as the apex of her thighs met Malfoy's leg between her knees should have embarrassed her, but Malfoy's reaction was like a drug that she needed more of instantly. He shuddered and bit down on the spot where her neck met her shoulder, stifling a groan of his own.
"Granger." Malfoy rasped against her bare skin as his lips trailed lower toward the plunging neckline of her dress, his tongue leaving a wet trail, the heat of his kisses cooling against her skin in the night air.
"Hm?" Was all she could manage in response as she ran her hands down his shoulders, feeling the taut muscle of his back all the way to the waistband of his trousers. She slowly worked her hands around to his front, gripping his shirt and untucking it and working her hands under his shirt to rest against the bare skin of his back.
Malfoy sucked in a breath against the barest amount of cleavage of her left breast, he ground his hips against her thigh and Hermione threw her head back at the feel of him hard against her leg.
"You need to tell me now har far you want this to go– because-" Malfoy raised his head to meet her eyes, "Because you're fucking irresistible, Granger. Gods, your arse in this dress." his hands gripped her arse– sure to leave bruises– and in one quick motion he lifted her against the wall as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
"Don't stop, please don't stop, Draco." Hermione was practically panting, struggling to catch her breath.
Malfoy's lips teased lower, moving toward the hem of the dress' neckline. One of Malfoy's hands moved to her now exposed– bare– thigh, slowly working his way up under the dress to her hip.
Malfoy's lips met the sticking charm on her left breast just as his hand met the bare skin of her hip– he stilled– releasing a barely controlled groan and a quick breath.
"Granger–" Malfoy growled.
"Why'd you stop– I said don't stop–" she panted out in reply, opening her eyes to meet Malfoy's, black with need. Hermione quickly looked down, remembering the sticking charm. " Finite incantatem ." she whispered, eyes raised again. When Malfoy didn't reply, Hermione took note of his iron grip on her bare hip and her eyes widened in realization. "S-sticking charm…" she explained shakily, wary of the way Malfoy was eyeing her as if she were prey– shocked by the difference from his careful control only two weeks prior.
"Clever." He drawled in reply to her explanation.
"I thought so myself." Hermione whispered into the air between them.
"That doesn't explain this, however." Malfoy stated with an accompanying firm squeeze to her hip.
"The dress was too form-fitting… I- I couldn't figure that bit out." She was on fire, her skin crawled in the most delicious way where their bare skin touched. Her senses were overwhelmed with him. The bond felt alive .
"So you-"
"Well, yes."
"And you-"
"Well, I just thought that-"
"Granger–" Malfoy growled in warning.
"I thought that no knickers was probably the best option, and–"
"And what?" Malfoy gasped as he thrust against her, his still clothed hardness providing just the right amount of friction to tease the ache she felt in her core. His lips found their way back to her throat and resumed their path down the valley between her breasts.
"And I think a part of me hoped you'd show up to the Ball and… well, here we are."
Malfoy stilled before he slowly moved his hand further under her dress, around to her bare arse.
"Are you saying that you went to the Ball without knickers, for me, Granger?"
Hermione groaned at the feeling of Malfoy's grip so close to where she desperately craved his touch.
"Subconsciously, I think, yes." She replied slowly. She looked down to where his lips met the hem of the neckline of her dress, once again. "Please." She whimpered, barely conscious of how desperate the word sounded as it left her.
"Please what, Granger?"
"Please- just, please touch me. It's like an all consuming fire– this damn bond– and you're just adding to it. Please." She shifted in his grasp, the hand on her arse slipping further under her.
Hermione felt like a live wire, everywhere he touched burned in the best way. Somewhere, somehow, she knew it was her magic. Somehow, she knew their magic was mingling in the air, a barely visible shimmer surrounded them. It was as if they were on the precipice of something big and had just not yet reached the tipping point. She felt closer to Malfoy than she had ever before, almost as if she could tangibly feel the depths of his feelings for her in that moment through their bond.
A niggling thought told her that was likely the case, and it likely worked both ways.
Hermione's attention was snapped back to the present at the feeling of Malfoy nudging the fabric of her dress aside and without warning, taking her nipple– hardened by his touches and the cool air– into his mouth. Hermione gasped and one of her hands moved to grip the soft strands of hair at the base of his neck, holding him to her.
"Perfect. So fucking perfect." He muttered between licks and sucks.
The feeling of his tongue flicking across her nipple, coupled with the hand on her arse inching closer to her core left her craving more of his touch. Hermione writhed in Malfoy's grasp, the slit of her dress slipping up, leaving her bare, pressed against him. He was, well Hermione had only had a couple of experiences for comparison, and he was… big. Her eyes momentarily widened.
As she ground against him, Malfoy's attention on her other nipple, now freed from her dress, stuttered. In response, he took her nipple between his teeth and pulled as his hips thrust into her.
"Can I– Gods, Granger, please say I can touch you." His hand squeezed in askance.
"Please- yes, please." Hermione rasped out, the hand not holding his mouth to her moved around his waist and back to the waistband of his trousers. Mustering all the Gryffindor bravery in her arsenal, Hermione moved her hand to grasp his hardened length through his trousers, just as he adjusted his grip, his arm banding under her thigh, as he quickly swiped a finger through her arousal.
"Fuck." Malfoy groaned into the skin of her neck.
Hermione whimpered then bit her lip as– just like in her dream– Malfoy brought a finger up to brush against her clit, biting down on her neck as she arched into him, her hand releasing him and moving to his trouser button.
"Granger– wait, are you sure?" He brought his head up to meet her own, his finger not stopping its movements, leaving her to wonder through the cloud of pleasure she was currently in, what he might have meant.
"Hm?"
Malfoy released a husky laugh that quickly turned into a guttural moan as Hermione released the button on his trousers, unzipped him, and snaked her hand underneath the waistband of his pants, fisting a hand around him.
"I- I asked if you're sure about this? I think we've pretty much established that we've never-"
Hermione didn't give him a chance to finish his thought, slowly stroking him as she gave her answer, watching as his face twisted up in pleasure.
"I have."
"You– wait." His movements paused, his mouth just below her ear where he'd left a trail of kisses up her neck.
"Not important. I want you. Now. If you'll have me. We can talk about it later."
An unreadable expression crossed Draco's face before it quickly faded, replaced by a darkness, pure want and need. Hermione had approximately ten seconds to ponder what he could possibly have been thinking about before his mouth was on hers. Draco readjusted his stance, his thumb applying light, but firm pressure to her clit and moving in a consistent circular motion, while his middle finger worked its way down to her entrance before pressing into her in one swift thrust.
Hermione gasped as he overwhelmed her senses. She'd always admired the strength in his hands as she'd watched them wrap around his broom and reach for the snitch during Quidditch games, but at this very moment she appreciated them much more as one held her strong and the other brought her ever closer to climax. She quickened the pace of her strokes and twisted the hand fisted around him, revelling in the gasping breaths Malfoy released against her heated skin.
"Malfoy, please."
"Use your words, Granger, I'll give you whatever you need."
"More– I need more. Faster, please." Hermione pleaded, her head thrown back against the wall, eyes clamped shut as she sought release.
"Anything for you." Draco gasped out as he inserted a second finger and increased the pace and pressure of his strokes, his thumb working quicker on her clit.
Hermione was racing toward a precipice she'd jumped off of many times before– but with Malfoy's magic mingling with her own in the air, it felt more intense than any other impending orgasm had before.
"I'm– don't stop, please don't stop." Hermione hardly recognized her voice, her hand faltering in her attempts to continue pleasuring him.
"Come for me, Granger." Malfoy whispered in her ear.
At the sound of his voice, Hermione saw stars, the edges of her vision went balck. Her legs tensed and trembled, she clenched and fluttered around his fingers as he continued to thrust into her to help her ride out her orgasm. Her breath left her in gasps, fighting for air. The sounds of his fingers' movements became obscene. The magic in the air felt stifling for a moment– but not much different than it had a moment before, as if it were still waiting for something important.
"Gods you're so beautiful, so fucking perfect–" His words were quickly silenced as Hermione reached between them to remove his hand from her body and lower his pants to free him, hard and leaking pre come.
Hermione stroked him several times, before readjusting her position so that he could easily slide into her.
"I want you, Draco. I haven't changed my mind. In fact, the last hour has only solidified my decision."
"Gods you're– you're everything. I'll give you anything. Whatever you want."
"You, I just want you."
Hermione smiled up at him dazedly and brought his face down to meet her in a bruising kiss, her tongue snaked into his mouth to tangle with his before she brought her hand to her abdomen between them and muttered a contraceptive charm. Hermione followed Malfoy's gaze to the pink glow that disappeared between them, settling into her skin.
"I'm sure, if you ask me again I will hex you Draco Malfoy. Now ple-"
In one swift thrust, Malfoy sunk into her to the hilt– a rasped out moan leaving his lips at the feeling of being completely enveloped by her, Hermione gasped and her eyes rolled back into her head. She had been right, he was big. Bigger than she'd had before. She took several deep breaths to adjust.
Malfoy's forehead was braced against her own, his breath left him in quick pants against her own mouth. He smelled of spearmint and Firewhisky, just like her amortentia. Hermione had never felt so utterly full– so complete. Their magic mingling in the air was antsy– dancing around them– still waiting for something.
So was Hermione.
"You- you can move."
"Just give me a minute." He whispered, eyes still clamped shut, iron grip on her thighs.
Hermione moved, unable to remain steady, desperately seeking friction.
" Fucking hell, Granger."
"Please. Please move." She truly was desperate now. Her senses were completely overwhelmed with him, Malfoy was everywhere around her, the smell of his cedarwood soap in the air, his magic a shimmer in the air barely visible around them, the smell of Firewhisky and spearmint on his breath, and his now slow thrusts inside her.
Malfoy was straining, the veins in his arms protruding with effort to contain his own need, Hermione assumed.
"Gods, dreamed of this– of you– for fucking years, Granger. So fucking perfect."
Hermione keened at his praise and she felt her core clench pleasantly around him.
"Fuck, if you do that again I'm going to come, Granger."
"Mm… Gods you feel so good. Better than I ever imagined." was all Hermione could mutter in reply, he'd buried himself so deep that with every thrust he brushed that perfect spot inside of her– the one that made her forget her own name.
"Fuck, I'm- I'm already so. close." He grit out on each hard thrust of his hips, increasing his pace.
Hermione felt one of the hands gripping her thigh move to her inner thigh before moving up again, his thumb quickly finding her clit, moving in quick, firm circles. Her eyes rolled back and she groaned at the feeling of him. His hands, his cock, pleasuring her perfectly. Then she sensed it again through the bond– he was feeling just as euphoric. She could tangibly feel how overwhelmed he was by the moment.
Hermione felt the unmistakable tension of a strong orgasm building, but this one felt different– just like the feel of the magic in the air around them.
"Close– I'm so close, don't stop."
Hermione's eyes clenched shut and her hands found purchase in the silk strands of his hair as he brought his lips to her neck, sucking on her pulse point before soothing the sting with his tongue.
His lips left her neck and she moaned in protest before she heard his voice, low, almost threatening.
"Be a good girl and come for me, Granger. I want to feel you. I've been wanting to have you like this for years."
Hermione groaned in reply.
"Look at me."
Hermione opened her eyes to meet Malfoy's, only a sliver of grey visible. His thumb pressed harder against her clit and with two more thrusts the stars were back.
This time, Hermione screamed out in ecstasy, "Draco!" as he continued his movements, fucking her in earnest. Two, three, then four thrusts and his movements stuttered. She felt him still and he came, buried inside her, with a groan, " Hermione ."
Still riding out the aftershocks of a powerful orgasm, Hermione felt her core flutter around him at the sound of her name leaving his mouth. That was the first time Hermione could ever remember having heard him use her given name. They stayed like that– him buried inside her, slowly softening, until they sufficiently caught their breath. Hermione had her arms wrapped around Malfoy's neck, cradling him to her chest. Where his forehead rested.
"Amazing, you're amazing." She felt Malfoy mutter against her sweat slicked skin.
As Hermione slowly regained her senses, she realized with a start that they'd never cast any privacy or silencing charms. Somehow, no one seemed to have wandered to the tower that night besides them. The movements of her fingers caressing his scalp faltered.
"Fuck- we never- silencing charm, anyone could have heard!"
Hermione felt Malfoy's deep inhale before he laughed outright, a genuine sound she hadn't heard fully from him before.
"What could possibly be so funny about anyone walking in on us- on us- having sex!"
"It's sort of funny, Granger. With the way my life's been lately, it wouldn't have even scratched the surface of being disruptive or annoying."
Hermione took note of Malfoy's words, filing them away on a shelf to discuss at a better time.
The magic in the air was more than stifling, now– it felt angry. A sort of hostility was palatable as if they'd done something wrong.
Couldn't possibly have been wrong to have felt that bloody fucking good.
"I agree. And I sense it as well– it's definitely not pleased. The bond, I mean."
"I did not mean to say that out loud. Since you've addressed it now as well… could you maybe let me down and we can… talk some?"
"Last time we tried to talk, Granger-"
"I mean it! Just talking. I'm not sure I can take much more anyway." She winced at the feeling of him slipping out of her, slowly lowering her till her feet touched the floor and she was steady again.
"Um– my wand?" Hermione asked sheepishly as Malfoy grabbed it, giving her a confused look.
Hermione cast a quick scourgify over herself as she used the other hand to slip her dress back into place over her bare breasts, not quite enjoying the feeling of his come slipping down her bare thighs. She looked over to see Malfoy righting his trousers with a deft zip and buttoning, not bothering to tuck his shirt back in.
"Ah, right, sorry I should've–"
"No, no, it's alright… I wanted you to."
"We'll revisit that bit of information later, right now I think… I think there are at least a few things you should know." Malfoy stated, a pained look on his face.
"Alright." Hermione moved to the railing once more and held her hand out to Malfoy. With an amused glance, he handed her a muggle cigarette from his pocket, lighting it wandlessly for her.
"You smoke? Would've never guessed that."
"Only after– well bugger it. Only after sex. It's, um, an indulgence, I guess?"
He again gave her that same amused smile and turned to face the night sky.
"So what is it you think I should know, Draco? Does this have something to do with why you've been 'busy' these last two weeks?"
"Yes, and no. It's– complicated. I know that's not what you were hoping to hear, but I'm still adjusting and I'd like a bit more time. I'm not in the best place right now, Granger. I'm trying."
Hermione took several deep breaths, reminding herself that she didn't have a right to know everything, especially with the secrets she still kept from her very best friends.
"I won't pretend I'm not curious, that I don't want to know so badly, but I am choosing to trust you. To trust this. The bond. What can you tell me?"
"My father– before he died– he told me that there is more to this bond that I have to be aware of. There is a book that I need from the Manor library. I, well, I wrote to my mother when I returned from visiting my father and she has yet to write back."
Hermione swallowed thickly.
More to this bond. The magic.
"So what we just felt." Hermione took a drag of the cigarette before passing it to Malfoy. "Our magic in the air, that was the bond? And it was… upset?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, Granger, but it felt almost hostile? Disappointed somehow? I don't know how to describe it. Whatever it was, I'm not sure I want to know what we possibly just upset in the balance here."
"And the book is about this bond, specifically?"
"Yes. I can't tell you any more than that. I will write to my mother again– it's unusual to not receive a reply from her." Malfoy's brow furrowed.
Hermione made a mental note to inquire about Narcissa Malfoy next time she checked in with the Headmistress. She hoped nothing was amiss with the threats and ministry involvement causing delays in her writing Malfoy back.
"I think I'm okay with not knowing, for now. I absolutely hate it, but I can live with it until you're ready to talk some more. Will I at least see you this week? No more disappearing?"
Malfoy seemed to give her question a genuine moment of contemplation before delivering his response. He turned to face her, left side leaning against the railing.
"No more disappearing. Granger, I'm an arsehole. I don't think that will ever change, but I can't bear to be apart from you anymore. Especially not if this is what I've been missing out on." He finished, failing to suppress a laugh.
Hermione failed to hide her own smile in response and instead reached out to steal the cigarette back from Malfoy. She turned back to face the night sky and took several long drags while he watched her, silent, before she spoke again.
"And did you feel anything else… off? Anything that could be related to the bond?"
Malfoy spun her to face him, his eyes piercing into her own.
"I fucking felt everything, Granger. I felt it all. Every emotion. Pure… ecstasy." Malfoy whispered into the space between them before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him, dropping a kiss to her forehead.
"So I take all of this to mean that you haven't changed your mind about the bond?"
"Absolutely not, Granger." His jaw was set firm, confident.
"So you're saying I don't need to seek out Seamus for another dance?" She smiled up at him cheekily, attempting to lighten the mood.
Malfoy stalked forward, stepping into her until her back hit the railing behind her.
"If I wasn't clear earlier, or when I was inside you not ten minutes ago when you were screaming my name, I'm a Malfoy, Granger. We're notorious for not sharing what's ours."
He tucked a stray curl behind her ear before bringing his lips to her ear, his cheek pressed against her own. Hermione's heart felt like it would leap out of her chest at any moment. Again, she saw green sparks, but they felt furious– a sense of urgency behind them, somehow.
Hermione felt his lips brush her ear as he spoke, sending a pleasant chill down her spine.
"You're mine."
Draco, I'm not sure that this is a good idea." Pansy's onyx, pin straight hair fanned out around her as she shook her head furiously at his request. They were seated on a sofa in the empty Slytherin common room while everyone else was– or should be– at breakfast in the Great Hall.
"I can't keep going like this, my father- look, it's… time sensitive. I need to do this and I need to do it quickly. Can you help or not? I know you're a Legilimens, Pans." Draco gave her a knowing look. "Oh don't play dumb with me now, the Carrows are gone, the– he – is dead, you've got nothing to hide from."
"How did you know? It's not exactly something I've advertised, Theo doesn't even know, Draco." Pansy asked accusingly.
"I'm a natural Occlumens, Pans. I can almost feel it when you look at me sometimes. You don't mean to prod, do you?" Draco arched a brow as Pansy assessed him.
"Fuck. No, of course not. I don't even know where it comes from. My mother and father have no natural talent for it. It just sort of happened. That is all beside the point though, Draco. What you're asking of me is absolutely fucking mental and dangerous! If something were to go wrong you could be trapped in your own bloody mind and I'd be powerless to pull you out." Pansy's eyes were wide and searching his own, pleading with him.
"I have to. I'm running short on time and once a week sessions with Severus are not enough." Draco furrowed his brow, hoping Pansy would see reason and help him.
"Draco, if I'm going to help you, if I'm going to enter your mind and rip open whatever kind of wall you have up in there and release years of terrible memories that you'll have to relive, all at once, I need to know more. Tell me why." Pansy had straightened in her seat, crossing one leg up under the other on the cushion to turn and face him.
"I wish I could, Pans, but I quite literally cannot." Pansy narrowed her eyes at his declaration.
"Cannot, or will not, Drake?"
"Cannot. Salazar, I wish I could tell you. That would make all of this much easier, but I can't even tell her, at least not-" Draco cut himself off, unsure if he'd actually meant to reveal that much information to Pansy.
"Ah, so it all comes back to Granger, again?"
Draco stared at Pansy for a long minute, hoping she would relent, but Pansy simply waved a hand, encouraging him to answer.
Draco heaved a heavy sigh and decided to test the waters around the gag order about the blood curse.
"I- well you already know about the bond."
"Yes." Pansy scoffed, eyes rolling.
"Well it has to do with the bond. That much I can share. It's… complicated. There is old magic involved. Let's just say dear old dad dropped a bombarda on me this term. A lot of information I was not nearly prepared enough to hear– the bond, it- it's part of something much bigger, and I need to stop occluding, stop hiding so much of who I am, so that I can… see its purpose through."
Pansy levelled him with a neutral expression before she spoke.
"Is this life or death, Draco?"
"Yes. I know, it sounds ridiculous without all of the information, but it's true. I- my aunt Bella occluded herself into insanity. I can't do that, I can't do that to her. "
"Draco, does Granger know how bad it is? I mean, we all know you haven't been… yourself, in a couple of years, but does she know the extent to which you've hidden it all away?"
Draco swallowed around a lump in his throat.
"I'm not sure, though I do know that I don't want her to find out. That's why I need your help, Pans. I- I want to be better, I want– no, I need this to work."
She didn't need to know the piece where it truly was life or death for him if he is unable to fully accept the bond, which it's been made clear– though not directly– by Severus that he can only do so if he stop occluding.
"Alright, I'll do it." She was looking intently at him, her eyes trained on his own, searching. He felt a prodding in his mind and immediately looked away.
"I think I'll need to crash here till it's– well, till I'm better. The sessions with Severus were intense and I'm not sure how I'll manage the fallout. I typically keep a calming draught around for each session."
"I'll check with Blaise and Theo. I'm sure they won't mind having you." Her small hand grasped his wrist and the familiarity of her touch– of her unwavering loyalty and friendship– grounded him. "I'm sorry, Draco. I hope that this will work."
Draco gave her a small smile before standing and making his way to the common room entrance, intent on sneaking back into his dorm to gather his belongings before settling back in at the dungeons.
XXX
Four days before the Ball
"Drake, that's enough! You've almost locked yourself inside your own mind four times now!"
Draco growled in warning, stalking toward the transfigured sofa Pansy was perched upon in Blaise and Theo's room.
"Keep fucking going! You almost had it!" The hidden alcove in his mind– the one that held the most precarious of his hidden memories, those of her– had been the only one Pansy had yet to split open. All of Draco's other hideous memories were splayed out in his consciousness– he'd re-lived them more times than he could count at this point.
"Draco you've locked her up tighter than Azkaban in there what do you expect me to do!"
Draco's fists clenched at his side to keep from hurling another one of Blaise's knick knacks at the wall. Ever since Pansy invaded his mind, memories unleashing from cabinets, he found it much more difficult to control his temper. Draco often found himself marvelling at just how much he felt whole , again.
"Keep fucking going, Pans. I want them out before the Halloween Ball. It's been almost two bloody weeks!" Draco ground out between clenched teeth.
"Fine, but don't come back to haunt me as a ghost when you die locked inside your own Salazar be damned mind, Draco." She stalked toward him, wand raised, ready to strike. The tip met his temple and Pansy hissed out her next word, " Legilimens ."
XXX
Two days before the Ball
"He's been like this since Wednesday night, Pans. What the fuck happened!"
Draco could just make out Theo's voice in his near catatonic state.
"Darling, he asked me to, no- he demanded that I do it. He wanted them all out before the Ball. What else was I supposed to do? Huh? You know what this room looked like after our sessions! I was trying to avoid another outburst."
Pansy's voice hissed, barely above a whisper.
"You mean he pushed you, and being you, Pans, you gave in. Am I right?"
Pansy sighed, loud enough for it to register in his consciousness.
"Yes. What does it matter now? He'll never come out of this state at this point. I've tried a pepper up and invigoration draught and he wouldn't take either. He's fucking catatonic, Theo, I don't know what to bloody do!"
Somewhere in his mind, Draco knew he should be up and moving– classes to get to, soul bond to tend to, etcetera. He just…couldn't. His mind swam with memories long locked away– happy memories from his childhood he kept hidden just for himself, untainted– his father teaching him to ride a broom for the first time, his mother singing to him when he had a nightmare when he was five.
Memories he stowed away from the Dark Lord to protect her. Those particular memories played out on a loop, over and over again, as if to taunt him for ever thinking he could live without her consuming his every waking thought.
First year, a bushy haired girl enters the train compartment in search of a toad.
Second year, snarling and spitting vile words at her, introducing her to the term mudblood.
Third year, a wand in his face, anticipating a hex that would never come. Instead, her fist connects with his nose and he thinks it's the first time they've ever touched one another.
Fourth year, she's at the Yule Ball with Krum and he thinks she might be the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. It's the first time he's ever felt jealous in his life– so used to being the best and having the best– and he's startled to realize this is someone he can never have, not in the way that he wants.
Fifth year, they touch for the second time. He's grabbed her by the elbow, reluctantly, hauling her in front of him into Umbridge's office. He occludes for the first time. He knows how Umbridge chooses to punish disobedience and he can't bear to think he might have brought her to that fate.
Summer after fifth year, he's mastered his occlumency. She's hidden away, he barely thinks of her. As the Dark Lord's wand sears into his skin– inky black lines taking up residence on his previously pristine forearm– she sinks deeper into his subconscious, away from prying eyes.
Sixth year, he can't fix the fucking cabinet, and each time he passes her in the hallway, glides by her desk in defence against the dark arts, or catches sight of her hair across the great hall, he nearly collapses. He's occluded so much he's not sure who he is anymore.
September 1997, Yaxley and Dolohov are reporting to the Dark Lord on their latest mission. They failed. The Granger's are gone without a trace. Their home is empty, save for empty photograph frames lining the walls. He occludes for seven hours that night, until his magic is weak and his head aching.
October 1997, He can't stand to read the prophet any longer. Her face is featured on almost every page. Undesirable.
November 1997, They're forcing him to watch. Greyback found the muggle woman hiking when he woke from the full moon. He's frozen– swallowing back the vomit that has risen in his throat at the sight of the spectacle before him. Her clothes are torn from her body, now just scraps of cloth. He thinks for a moment that he should step in, the Avada would be worth it to save this woman from the horror of a violent rape. A gentle prodding at his mind snaps him back to the present, Severus has saved his life.
Christmas eve, 1997. Something is wrong. His chest aches. He knows it's her. He drinks himself into a stupor that night, bedroom warded should he let his guard down. At 4 a.m. he takes a sober up, a pain potion, and hones in his occlumency for the next several days.
Easter weekend, 1998. He's ruined it all. Everything. He did nothing to stop it and she will never forgive him for it. He's sick for hours. The ache is back and it fucking burns. His mother finds him on the bathroom floor, unconscious, several hours later. She stays until he is awake. She stays until he knows his mind is safe to leave the confines of his own room.
May 2, 1998. She's alive. The Dark Lord is dead. He is tired. He's taken into custody and hauled to Azkaban to await trial. He felt her eyes on him as Kingsley Shacklebolt led him– hands magically bound– to the apparition point.
Voices continue to echo through the room. Now he can hear Blaise as well, chiding Pansy for causing, and leaving him in this state. He knows there is somewhere he should be, but his mind feels sluggish and sleep overtakes him.
XXX
Saturday, the day of the Ball
Draco's eyes opened slowly, the room spun in and out of focus for a moment and he blinked away the confusion. Taking a minute to collect his thoughts, the events of the past two weeks overwhelmed him at once. Draco sucked in a sharp breath at the realization of what he'd done. He'd essentially gone missing– by his limited knowledge of the passage of time while in his unresponsive state, he was sure it was the day of the Ball.
Salazar, fuck.
"Oh, Theo! He's up!" Pansy shrieked from her perch on the side of Theo's bed.
"Yes, he lives, please save the fanfare I've got shite to do." Draco grumbled into his palms covering his face.
"Draco, the only shite you've to do today is tell us what the fuck happened."
"Oh fuck off, Pans. I've only been reliving every memory of the Dark Lord invading my home and my body, every memory of Granger since the moment I met her, and every memory of my dead father, for the past two fucking days. If I were a lesser man I might've Avada'd myself the moment I woke up. As it is though, I've got a witch to see and likely to beg– and I loathe begging– forgiveness from."
Pansy's eyebrows shot up to her forehead in shock. Draco simply stared as Pansy seemed to work something out for herself, her mouth twitching at the corner for a few seconds before she broke into an earnest grin and a girlish giggle burst from her mouth.
"Merlin's ballsack, it actually worked, didn't it?"
"Worked that out, have you? What gave it away?" Draco deadpanned.
"Drake, I don't think you've been this simultaneously self assured and sardonic since… well you bloody know." Pansy's grin widened before she continued. "You're an absolute Arse, Draco."
Draco levelled a glare at Pansy before standing to get his bearings. "Don't rub it in, Parkinson. Now, what time is it?" He retrieved his wand from Blaise's bedside table and cast a tempus charm. "Fucking– this can't be right. 6 p.m.!? The fucking Ball, Pans! I've got to go. Remind me to never put you in charge of my medical care in case of an emergency."
"Draco, what are you going to wear? And you've just bloody woken up! You've been out cold for two days, you need to rest!"
"No, what I need is an outfit to transfigure into something acceptable, and a shot or two of firewhisky."
The door behind him swung open, Blaise entered with a shit eating grin.
"I knew you'd wake up in time for the Ball! Wouldn't miss the golden girl in all her glory again, would you?"
Draco eyed the pack of muggle cigarettes in Blaise's hand before snatching it from him.
"Oi! Give those back!" Blaise shouted, hand darting out in an attempt to grab the pack back.
"Don't think so, I've a greater need for stress relief tonight than any of you lot."
Pansy cleared her throat, she stood in front of Theo's wardrobe holding up the makings of an acceptable outfit for the Ball– with the right tailoring charms.
Draco gave Pansy his best smirk. "Parks, I knew I kept you around for a reason."
Pansy rolled her eyes before shoving the clothing into his hands. "Let's get going. We've got a Ball to get to, Blaise. Theo's in the common room– I'll send him this way and meet you all back down there in… thirty minutes. Old Draco is back and we've got to make sure he doesn't fuck it all up with Granger tonight."
"Pans–"
"No time, Draco! Thirty minutes!"
"Parkinson, what about my firewhisky!"
Draco groaned and tossed the clothes on the bed.
Self assured my arse.
Blaise nudged Draco and he looked down to see a bottle of firewhisky shoved into his now empty hands.
"Thank fuck."
Nothing like a little liquid courage.
With a gulp and burn of the liquid as it slid down his throat, warmth settling his bones, he steeled himself for what was bound to be an explosive evening.
XXX
"You're mine."
Draco's hands found purchase on her waist while he relished in the full body shiver that overtook her at his words.
"I- I think I can get used to that." Granger stared up at him, a dazed and far away look in her eyes.
Draco's thumbs made soothing circles on her waist while he watched her work her bottom lip between her teeth. She seemed to be observing him more than usual tonight.
Oh right, you ripped down your fucking occlumency walls and allowed yourself to fully feel– to fully be you– for the first time in fucking years.
Draco was mesmerised.
He trailed his fingers up her sides and relished in the gooseflesh his touch elicited from her skin. He moved his hands slowly down her arms and intertwined his fingers with her own.
His center of gravity had shifted and he was now firmly rooted in Hermione Granger's orbit.
He'd known she was incredible before, but after tonight- after tonight, there was absolutely no turning back. He needed that fucking book from his mother. He needed to bind himself to her. Something in the bond felt angry, urgent, as if it had been waiting for this very moment to arrive and was disappointed somehow.
"Where do we go from here? I-" Granger laughed, a nervous tittering. "I'd like to be with you, Draco. But I don't know if I'm quite ready to share you with the world. I want some time for us to… explore this bond before we let the world in."
She doesn't want people to know?
"No, that's not it at all, I just want to be selfish for once. I've– Draco I've wanted you for years. Literally never thought I would have… this, not in my wildest dreams. Can I please be selfish, just this once?" Her honey rimmed eyes were wide and pleading. The scent of vanilla bean and firewhisky filled the space between them.
Fucking intoxicating.
"How- I didn't say that out loud, did I?" His brow furrowed, confusion marking his features.
Granger's eyes searched his face and when she spoke again it was slow, cautious.
"I- I'm not sure, Draco. I guess it was more of a feeling."
Salazar's ballsack. I need that damn book.
"I think there's more to this bond than you or I will ever figure out on our own, Granger. The book… the book will help, I think. I will send a note to my mother again. The Manor library is large, but that book shouldn't be too hard to find. I'm honestly not sure what is taking so long."
He brushed his thumbs across her knuckles as he watched her mull over his words. Something about the pursing of her lips and the narrowing of her eyes gave him pause, but Draco decided against pushing the subject.
Granger exhaled and adjusted from one foot to the next for a moment before replying. "Alright, I trust you. I'm choosing to trust you."
Draco rolled his eyes playfully, flashing his best signature Malfoy smirk. "Granger, I'd be concerned if you didn't trust me, with us being magical soulmates and what not."
Granger cocked her head to the right and a look of utter content passed over her features. "You're absolutely right. I think- well, would you-"
Draco raised his right hand to cradle her face in his palm.
"What is it, Granger?"
Granger looked away, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Would you maybe walk me back to um- our room? I think I'd prefer to continue our night… in private."
Draco's eyebrow rose involuntarily.
"Is that so?"
"I- I just wasn't sure if you were going to return to the dormitory or not and well, it's quiet. It's too quiet and-"
Draco smirked, immediately sensing her hesitation. "You missed me, Granger?"
"Yes, you prat. Gods. Now are you coming with me or not?"
Draco brought his face down to hers, lips brushing hers as he spoke. "I'd love nothing more." Slanting his lips over her own, his tongue sought hers in a languid kiss before he pulled back.
Draco pulled Granger into his side, wrapping an arm around her waist as he led her down the tower steps. For the first time in years, his thoughts didn't consume him with negativity. Rather, they were quite pleasant.
I think I like this tower now.
I fucking love this tower.
I could live in this tower.
Gods she is fucking perfect.
Her arse in this dress.
Perfect.
Her lips– bloody fucking sinful.
Salazar, her cunt.
All of her.
Just-
All of her.