We'll Be The Only Dream You Seek

by Ceilidhchaos

In the summer before 8th year, Head Boy Theo Nott and Head Girl Hermione Granger are dealing with alot of trauma at child soldier therapy camp. Pansy and Draco are waiting for their trials. The four of them end up growing closer over fire whiskey, cigarettes, group therapy and illicit touches. A polyamorous, kinky AU.

19. House of Memories

Chapter 19

House of Memories

Memory Extraction of Draco L. Malfoy

By Gawain Robards

Malfoy Manor

Winter 1997

"Fuck! Fuck!" Draco cursed as he held a cloth covered in dittany paste to the young woman's throat. Her skin was stitching together, but not fast enough to stop the blood that was flowing around his fingers. Luna was on her knees next to him, calmly rubbing dittany into wrists that had been slit, not by the muggle's own hands. Draco could feel the dark magic dripping out of the wounds. Aunt Bella. She'd been playing with this girl first, then passed her off to the werewolves who must have gotten bored of her.

Some of the bites looked as though pieces of her flesh were actually eaten. The scars on her body would be true horrors if she lived, Draco thought unwillingly.

Draco had been lucky to come down while she was still breathing, but he didn't think she was going to make it. They never bleeding made it. Never. The girls that he and Luna tried to save. They always died, always. Always.

Pushing the doubts aside, Draco cast several healing spells in quick succession, only stopping when he started to feel his magical core weakening.

Luna took his wand and cast an Episkey over the girl's wrists; when that failed, she handed it back shaking her head. "It's too much blood Draco, she isn't going to make it."

Draco shook his head, futilely applying pressure to her ruined throat. It was just one long nightmare. These girls, there'd been dozens, he kept trying and it kept being for nothing. For nothing.

Luna held the girl's hand and sang to her in a soft and soothing tone. Draco held the cloth to her throat until it was bright red with her heart's blood. He held it there until her heart finally stopped pumping and her chest stopped rising and falling with a harsh rattle that cut him to his soul.

Her clothes had been shredded and there was a circle of roses tattooed on her belly. It had a smear of dirt and, without thinking, Draco wiped it with the cloth and spread blood there too. The bloody roses nearly made him sick.

"Scourgify," he whispered again and again until her body was mostly clean. Although the copper scent of blood lingered. Slowly, he lifted her over his shoulder as Luna leaned against the wall. Her face was a mask, her blonde hair filthy. Blood covered her knees where she'd been kneeling.

"See you soon," Luna whispered as he closed the cell door and locked it. He merely nodded.

Carefully emerging from the stairs to the dungeon, Draco looked both ways down the hall to be sure it was clear. He had run into his father once, but the man had been so piss drunk he hadn't realised that Draco had a corpse slung over his shoulder. Possibly it just didn't matter to Lucius. Most likely, it was a bit of both.

The early morning light blinded him for a moment as Draco emerged into the gardens. He followed the perimeter of the house tightly, peeking in each window as he went to make sure that he wasn't spotted. Once he saw Dolohov inside reading in one of the sitting rooms, but the madman's back was to the window. Draco eased by him with his heart in his throat, shifting the weight of the dead girl on his shoulder so none of her body would bump the window. When he finally made it to the entrance to the maze, he ducked quickly inside knowing that he could no longer be seen from the house.

He ran as quickly as he could through the winding paths, normally preferring to do this late at night, but tonight there would be a Revel and the last thing he wanted was to watch this woman's body be torn apart in his ballroom. Once had been more than he ever wanted to see. Greyback was a sickening beast and his loyal pack was no better.

Once he arrived at the other side of the maze, he ducked through a thick copse of old oak trees. Finally, he came to a clearing that was on the very edge of the walled portion of the estate Brambles surrounded all sides except the path that he had just entered through. The first thing Draco saw was that all the graves he had dug remained undisturbed. There were a dozen shallow graves and few held only one body. Draco knew. He had dug them all by hand. His last act of service for women that he'd failed to save.

Gently, he laid the dark haired girl with the rose tattoo down on the leafy ground and, summoning one of his hidden shovels, Draco began to dig.

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Tears ran down Draco's cheeks as he was forced to relive the memory that Robards was extracting. Theo sat next to him, holding his hand, his thumb making soothing circles on Draco's palm.

Theo hated feeling helpless. This whole memory extraction had been his grand plan and now Theo had to sit in impotent rage and watch the consequences unfold.

Robards finished extracting the memory and then pulled a DMLE pensieve from a bag that should not have been large enough to hold the magical object of that size. Setting the pensieve up, Robards' countenance was stern. Theo barely resisted the urge to make a terribly inappropriate joke about his face sticking that way, but it was a very close thing.

Robards poured the vial containing Draco's memory into the Pensieve and went in. Theo watched with his heart pounding in his chest like a stampede of thestrals. Draco's eyes were closed and his head leaned back on the overstuffed sofa.

Finally, Robards emerged and the look on his face was one of pure horror.

"I, Gawain Robards, certify this memory as authentic and untampered with." Using his wand, he extracted the memory from the pensieve, returned it to the vial, and put it in his inner jacket pocket. "Malfoy, how many more of these do we have to go?"

"Nineteen," Draco replied in a voice that was nearly a sob. Taking several deep breaths, he pulled himself together.

"Bloody hell. Nineteen." Robards ran his hand over his face. "Nineteen women."

Draco met Robards' eyes and shook his head, his voice steely, "Nineteen more memories. Thirty four more women and girls."

Theo had to choke back his own sob. Thirty-four? Draco had buried thirty four murdered women with his own hands? Luna had known the extent of this madness? Theo felt horribly guilty that the extraction process caused Draco to remember each memory in graphic detail, but the real terror of Draco being sentenced to Azkaban for thirty four murders tamped that guilt down in his chest. He simply would not let this happen. He couldn't lose Draco. He couldn't.

"Damn me," Robards replied, his pale face losing even more colour, "We are in for a long afternoon then. Let's get this done."

Draco merely nodded, his face stone, and they began the memory extraction process all over again.

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Pansy was upstairs in the bath with her newest copy of the Witch Weekly. A care package from Narcissa had been delivered by eagle owl earlier bearing sweets for Draco and lavender bubbles for Pansy. Hermione had laughed as the other girl was hopping up and down with excitement like a child half her age. Hermione had to admit that the bubbles did smell like a field of lavender under a warm French sky when Pansy made the comparison. With a deep kiss that left Hermione wet and her knees a bit wobbly, Pansy had flounced up the stairs with a sensual smile.

A sudden loud pounding at the door of the suite had Hermione dropping her book with a start and rushing over, worried that there had been some kind of emergency. She hadn't seen Draco and Theo in hours and was incredibly worried about them, but she was doing her best to feign calmness. After all, everything was fine. It had to be.

She was surprised to see Dean, Seamus, and Neville crowding the small doorway.

"Are Theo and Malfoy here?" Neville asked a little awkwardly.

"No," Hermione answered, slightly confused as to why the Gryffindor boys were looking for her Slytherins, "They are due back anytime though, I believe."

The three Gryffindors stood nervously right outside her door looking at each other with a slight bit of uncertainty.

When did things get so strange? Outloud she said, "Am I not good enough to hang out with?"

"Oh no Hermione," Neville reassured, "We didn't mean it like that. It's just that my new harvest is ready and I thought…"

"I can smoke with you boys, if you want?" Hermione was more than a little amused, knowing that she had shocked them by their hilarious expressions. "Pansy is upstairs and Theo and Malfoy should be back soon. We can head out to the balcony, shall we?"

"Great!" Seamus replied enthusiastically, "I always thought you could stand a good smoke to relax."

"Seamus!" Dean hissed at his boyfriend, smacking him on the shoulder. "Don't be an arse."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "It's fine, Dean. I'm used to people thinking I have a stick up mine."

Neville laughed, sliding the door to the balcony open, "People who are uptight hardly rescue blind dragons after committing bank robbery."

Hermione laughed out loud at that and then blushed as she remembered exactly what she had been doing out on this balcony earlier this very same day. She hoped someone had cast Scourgify after they were

The four Gryffindors enjoyed the view for a minute before Neville pulled out a couple spliffs and lit them, handing one to Hermione. "Ladies first," he said, taking a long drag off the other one himself before passing it off to Dean.

"I hope you don't expect me to smoke this whole thing myself," Hermione said, passing the spliff to Neville. "I've only smoked once and I don't particularly want to turn into a puddle."

"Well if you did, you'd definitely be relaxed," Dean pointed out.

Seamus chuckled, "Is there a bottle of fire whisky in the kitchen?"

"Does Theo Nott live here?" Hermione replied, raising one eyebrow at her Irish friend.

"Fair enough. I will just pop in for a glass, yeah?"

"Make yourself at home, Seamus."

"Ah, I already have." Seamus was already disappearing inside, but then called back "Does anyone else fancy a glass?"

"I'll take one," Neville responded.

"It's a really nice dorm you have, Hermione." Dean said, "If the eighth year dormitory is half as nice, we'll be sitting pretty. Although I doubt we will get something as nice as a smoking balcony."

"I'm pretty certain that McGonagall doesn't even know that this one exists. And I don't think anyone has used it in ages. It was hidden behind some tapestries and Theo discovered it."

Seamus emerged back on the balcony with his and Neville's drinks.

"He's a good bloke," Seamus said, passing Neville the second tumbler, "Theo. I really like him. Easy to talk to. Even Malfoy is easier to deal with this summer. Parkinson is still a bit of a bitch, but I don't think her heart is really in it, ya know?"

"They've been…" Hermione struggled for words that were accurate, "really really great to me." She was grateful that it was dark outside because they couldn't see her blushing about how great they really were.

Seamus and Dean chuckled low, they had been there during the Truth or Dare game after all.

"So, the reason I bring up how great they have been," Seamus said, taking a deep drink of his firewhisky, "is because Ron wrote to me."

Hermione, who had been taking a drag, coughed uncontrollably. "What?" She stared at Seamus, trying to get her wildly reeling brain under control.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I said, because in seven fucking years of being friends, Ron Weasley has written me zero letters," Seamus accepted the spliff from Dean and took a long hit, blowing the smoke upwards. "And what was in this letter you might ask? Was it hello Seamus how are you doing? How's your mum? How are you and Dean doing? Well, I will save you the suspense. It bloody wasn't."

Hermione realised that her hands had begun to shake and she was horrified by the panicked way her heart had begun to beat. Neville passed her his tumbler and she slammed the whole thing, handing him the glass back with a grateful nod. Neville gave her a sad knowing smile.

"He wanted to know what you were doing, Hermione. Were you seeing anyone? Who were you hanging out with? He had a lot of questions. Have we seen the article in the Prophet?" I wrote him back a letter telling him in detail about my Gran's vegetable patch planting rotation. He has a lot of bloody nerve to be asking about you after he shamed you like that with a bunch of bald faced lies. And I'm sure as hell not going to tell him about you and Malfoy or any other company you are keeping if you get my drift."

Hermione wasn't sure that she had ever heard Seamus say so much in one go that wasn't about either alcohol, Quidditch, or explosions.

"It's your business whose company you want to be in and I know that Malfoy and Parkinson have their trials coming up. Ron fancies himself a big man, important Auror — what a bloody crock. He's just riding on Harry's coattails as he always does. But I wouldn't put it past him to try to throw a wrench in Malfoy's trial if he knew what was going on between the two of you."

"Not that we are judging you," Dean said hastily, "Malfoy seems like he really fancies you and I think he's not the only one? But Seamus and I aren't going to be sharing any of your personal affairs with anyone. If anyone has earned some privacy for their personal life, it's you. You also really deserve to be happy."

"And if these Slytherins are making you happy, Hermione, I'm in support," Neville added, "To be honest, I have really enjoyed spending time with Theo, and Draco too for that matter, this summer. They aren't as evil as Dumbledore and my Nan and Harry and Ron for that matter always made them out to be. I think if group therapy has taught us anything it's that the Slytherins were just as much victims as we were. We're all kids, after all. I mean we are adults now, but barely. They were kids in impossible situations too. I can't imagine what having Voldemort in your house would have been like. And Theo's father…" Neville shook his head, "…just…You have my support, that's all I guess. Ron's being an arse and he didn't deserve you."

"Wow guys, I really appreciate it. It's um just a bit of fun at the moment, but um…" Hermione trailed off.

"And you deserve to have that, Hermione, we all do. That's why Seamus and I have gone public, that's why Neville is trying to get Hannah Abbott's ring size, that's why Zabini and Luna are all over each other. Everyone is just trying to find a little bit of joy to make all the pain and darkness that we suffered through mean something. And this might just be because I'm high but I really love you guys and I appreciate that we are here trying to get better together. Because this whole living through a war shit is not easy."

"I really appreciate your support," Hermione said, "I do."

"And when you eventually admit it's more than a bit of fun," Neville said, smiling knowingly, "The three of us will be here to support you then too."

Hermione felt like she was going to cry and wasn't sure why. This was just a bit of fun with Draco, Theo and Pansy…wasn't it? It wasn't anything serious…why would Neville think that?

"I really appreciate your friendship," Hermione said, verklempt, "And Seamus and Dean I'm here for you too, if anyone is a homophobic tosser I will set them to rights."

Seamus smiled, "That really means a lot. I think it's going to be a bit of a hot mess after the summer program is over and term starts, but at least we have each other right?"

"Right," Hermione agreed. "Maybe I should convince McGonagall that the eighth year dorms should have two beds in a room instead of four? Think she'd listen to the Head Girl?"

"Hermione," Dean said seriously, "if you could make single or double rooms happen, I will be in your debt for the rest of my life."

"Don't be making promises like that Thomas," Theo said peeking out onto the balcony, "What if I manage to convince McGonagall? Then you'll be in a Slytherin's debt forever." Theo winked at him.

"Nott, you finally made it!" Neville cried, "Come on out, my new harvest is just ready and I brought some to share with you!"

Theo nearly clapped in excitement, rushing out onto the balcony with the rest of them, "You really know how to make a bloke feel loved, Longbottom. Are you sure you don't like lads?"

"Pretty positive I prefer a pair of tits," Neville replied teasing him back, "I suppose we could polyjuice you into a girl."

"Ah! Now that's a kink I haven't thought of before!" Theo laughed in delight, "Sexual applications of polyjuice. Draco do you fancy being a girl for an afternoon? I'd love to do dirty things to you."

Hermione looked over and realised that a morose looking Draco was just inside the balcony doors. He eased himself out, lighting one of Theo's muggle cigarettes wandlessly.

"Why the fuck not, I'll try anything once," Draco replied, a smirk on his mouth, but Hermione noticed that his eyes looked haunted like they had after his nightmare. She shifted herself past Neville, Dean and Seamus, putting her arm around Draco's waist. No one made any comments about her and Draco, as though their physical affection was the norm.

Hermione supposed that it was the new normal and that her Gryffindor friends' approval had not been just words.

Seamus, Theo and Dean joked around with one another, but Hermione couldn't seem to pay attention to anything except the stiffness in Draco's body. He didn't seem to be present with the rest of them at all. When the other boys went inside to have a firewhiskey by the fire, Hermione lingered in the doorway to the balcony.

"Go on ahead Granger, I just want a few minutes alone."

"Alright, if you're sure," she kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you shortly." As she headed inside, she looked back at Draco who was lost deep in thought and smoking silently. He had his elbows on the edge of the balcony and he stared off into the darkness. His mind was a thousand miles away from Hogwarts at that moment.

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Pansy came down the stairs, her body wrapped in a silken robe, a glass of wine and Witch Weekly in her hand, and suddenly all the Gryffindor boys had somewhere else to be when faced with her displeased gaze. She flounced into one of the vacated seats by the fire and dropped her magazine, sipping her wine with slow pleasure.

"I'm exhausted,'' she declared looking at the other three, "Are we going to bed?"

Theo had his head in Hermione's lap and she was stroking his curls. Draco stood by the fire, staring into the flames, nursing a half full glass of fire whiskey.

"Yes let's go," Theo replied, rising from his position, "Drake?"

"I'm not in the mood to shag tonight Theo," Draco responded.

"Who said anything about shagging," Pansy's voice dripped scorn, "I said I was exhausted. It's long past midnight."

"Just wanted to be clear." Draco replied, swallowing all his remaining fire whiskey in one gulp before walking to the kitchenette to put his glass in the sink.

Hermione watched him with a worried expression. Theo leaned over and kissed her, pulling her up. "He'll be alright, love, it was just a bad day." Hermione bit her lip restraining herself from asking what had happened, why Draco was so upset. He wasn't occluding so she had to take that as a blessing as it was.

They all adjourned to Theo's bedroom. Pansy dropped her robe and hung it on one of the hooks inside the door. Clad only in her knickers, she climbed onto the far end of the bed. Stripping into his boxers, Theo followed behind her. Draco pulled off his clothes and pulled on a pair of pyjama pants, and left himself shirtless. His stark Sectumsempra scars ran along his chest like the slashes of swords. He pushed his hair back out of his eyes and exhaled raggedly, climbing in next to Theo in the centre of the bed.

Hermione suddenly realised that she had just been there staring at him, and pulled off her own clothes. There was a black nightgown hanging on the hook that Pansy had given her, and Hermione placed her clothes on the hook and threw the nightgown over her head. Crawling into bed next to Draco, she wondered whether she should just go back to her own room. Did he even want her here?

"Can someone hold me?" Draco asked in a voice that sounded as though the words were forcefully ripped from him.

Hermione put her head on his shoulder immediately, and wrapped her arm around his waist. Theo put his hand to Draco's cheek, scooting closer so that his entire body was pressed to Draco's side. Reaching over Theo, Pansy stroked Draco's pale hair. They all laid together like this until sleep took them one by one. Draco was the last to fall asleep, and before he fell into dreams he kissed the tops of Hermione and Theo's heads and Pansy's outstretched fingers.

He wondered if today's torment would help him in the end or if it was just more well deserved suffering for all his past wrongs. Eventually sleep finally claimed him as well and if he dreamed, he didn't recall them in the morning.

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"Good morning everyone," Cordelia smiled sunnily, sweeping her green healer robes across the stone of the courtyard. "Can you believe that we have only one more week together? I know it's difficult to say that this has been fun, but we have been doing deep work and I am so proud of each and every one of you." She gave each person in the circle her full attention for just a moment, and Theo had to admit that the woman was nothing if not dedicated and intense about it.

"Today we are going to try something called Progressive Muscle Relaxation. It's normal to feel stressed sometimes. And I know everyone here feels stressed most of the time," she paused to allow for the awkward laughter that bubbled up around the circle, "But if your stress builds up, or it continues for a period of time, you might carry the tension in your muscles. You could have muscle tightness without even realising it. Progressive muscle relaxation, or PMR, is a form of therapy that involves tightening and relaxing your muscle groups, one at a time, in a specific purpose is to release tension from your muscles, while helping you recognize what this type of tension feels like in your body. When practised regularly, this technique may help you manage the physical effects of stress. It was invented in America in the 1920s. So it's been around for quite awhile now. It was based on the theory that physical relaxation can promote mental relaxation. We know that our physical health and our mental health are linked."

Cordelia touched her head and her heart at the same time, "If our physical bodies are unwell it is very challenging to feel emotionally well and the reverse is also true. So back to PMR, it requires you to work on one muscle group at a time. This allows you to become aware of the tension in the specific area of focus. It's also critical to the process that you tense each muscle group before relaxing. This action will emphasise the feeling of relaxation in that particular area."

"Alright, we are going to start by lying or sitting down. I will give you a couple minutes to get into a comfortable position."

Next to him, Luna laid down on the ground, knees bent and eyes closed. Blaise, on the other side of her, followed suit. Pansy shook her head and stayed sitting in her chair, but Hermione laid on the courtyard stones. After that it was a domino effect and soon everyone but Pansy, Theo and Draco were laying on the ground.

Draco shrugged at Theo and said, "Fuck it." Then he laid on the ground as well. Theo looked at Pansy who mouthed "Are you fucking serious?" And then he also laid on the ground. He could hear Pansy snort in annoyance.

"Everyone looks comfortable now, so let's continue. Relax your entire body. Take five deep, slow breaths." Theo felt a bit silly but he did it anyway.

"In through your nose out through your mouths my friends."

Theo tried to concentrate on his breathing, truly he did, but he couldn't help but imagine Hermione with her head thrown back while riding him. He hoped his hard cock wasn't obvious to their therapist. How bloody awkward would that be? So he did his best to focus on the calming voice of their therapist as she walked them through the muscle relaxation steps.

"Now please lift your toes upward. Hold, then let go. Pull your toes downward. Hold, then let go." He followed the steps as she spoke them, taking deep breaths to clear his mind.

"Next, tense your calf muscles, then let go. Move your knees toward each other. Hold, then let go." Theo could feel his muscles loosening with each movement, tensing and releasing. He was holding alot more tension in his body than he realised.

"Squeeze your thigh muscles. Hold, then let your hands. Pause, then let go. Tense your arms. Hold, then let go. Squeeze your buttocks. Pause, then let go. Contract your abdominal muscles. Pause, then let go." A sense of calm was beginning to overtake Theo as Cordelia took them through each and every step of the PMR process.

"Inhale and tighten your chest. Hold, then exhale and let go. Raise your shoulders to your ears. Pause, then let your lips together. Hold, then release. Open your mouth wide. Hold, then let your eyes tightly. Pause, then release. Lift your eyebrows. Hold, then release."

Now Theo wasn't about to admit it to anyone, but he felt absolutely relaxed. Maybe there were some benefits to participating in therapy after all.

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Draco had just sat down to lunch in the Great Hall. With only six tables now, everywhere was much more crowded, even if people did primarily keep to their own groups. Theo, Pansy and Hermione all sat with him, Theo to his left and Hermione to his right. Pansy was on her other side. Next to Pansy sat Luna and then Blaise with his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. On Theo's other side sat Dean and then Seamus. Two seats still sat open at their table and Draco caught Longbottom looking at one of them longingly as he sat at a table full of Hufflepuff girls.

The Headmistress walked up to their table, stiff and stern-faced even for her. Draco saw her expression was directed at him and swallowed reflexively. Theo put a hand on his thigh, as always immediately attuned to Draco's unease.

"Mr Malfoy, there is a solicitor here to see you. I was surprised and not expecting him." She looked over his face, "I see you were not expecting him either."

"No, headmistress, but I have sent several owls to his office, so I am glad that he's responded."

Draco heard her mumble something like, "I doubt you will be glad after you've met the man."

Standing up to follow her, Draco looked askance at her. "What was that, Headmistress?"

"Nothing, nothing. Come with me Mr. Malfoy. The solicitor is waiting for you in one of the unused classrooms on this level."

"Not your office?"

"Merlin no. Not my office," McGonagall shook her head and Draco felt so confused with her reaction to his question — that was until he followed her into the classroom.

Draco followed her into the entrance hall and when she opened the nearby door, Draco headed in. A thin grey haired man in an all grey suit stood waiting for them. He was overwhelmingly monochrome. His skin also couldn't be described as anything other than sallow.

"I'll leave you two to your business," McGonagall excused herself with alacrity.

"Please sit, Mr. Malfoy," the man pointed to a chair and sat himself in another across from it.

"Mr. Lorton at your service, I'm your Wizengamot-appointed solicitor Mr. Malfoy. It's a pleasure," the gaunt man said, making it seem as though it was anything but, as though he had swallowed something foul. "I have reviewed the prosecution's case and perhaps with some good character witnesses we might be able to get your sentence as low as five years."

Draco felt the floor drop out from beneath his feet. He thought he might have stopped breathing and his heart definitely stopped beating. "Five years," he choked out.

"I think that ten to twenty is much more realistic, but do you have any character witnesses? Harry Potter has given his name to the prosecution to speak on your behalf. Which is the only reason that I think five years is even possible."

"I gave evidence yesterday to Gawain Robards of crimes committed by others," Draco pushed the words out, but he couldn't breath. The walls felt too close.

"Well, I haven't received any documentation about that. Did he offer you anything in exchange for your evidence?"

"Well no…" Draco paused, had Theo negotiated anything? Draco didn't know. How could he not know?

Mr Lorton shook his head, "While a good faith gesture on your part, I don't know whether it will help or hurt you. If you give information to the DMLE please floo me in advance so that I or one of my clerks can be present." Draco contained his urge to scream. This man hadn't responded to any of his floo calls or owls. He had just shown up today with no notice.

"My trial is a week from tomorrow," Draco ground out.

"I'm aware, Mr Malfoy. Your mother will be in attendance. She'll obviously be testifying on your behalf, but whether her testimony will actually be beneficial to you remains to be seen. It's difficult to gauge the Wizengamot's reception of any particular witness. Your mind healer will be testifying. Will her testimony be for or against you going to Azkaban?"

Draco felt horribly uncertain, he thought Cordelia liked him, but how did one know what someone would testify to? "I'm-I'm not certain."

Mr Lorton scoffed, "Well have you been attending your mandated group counselling?"

"I haven't missed one," Draco replied.

"Well that's something, at least," he harrumphed, as though his inconvenience was more important than Draco's probable imprisonment. He shut his folio with a grunt, "Well if you can find anymore character witnesses particularly those without Death Eater affiliations, owl their names to me, or just bring them the day of. Ms. Parkinson's trial is at 9 in the morning and yours will start at twelve thirty after the lunch recess."

"Am I allowed to attend Pansy's trial?"

"It would be better for her if you didn't. I'm not her solicitor, but based on my understanding of the …mitigating factors in her case, she's unlikely to receive more than probation, perhaps a year in Azkaban at most. You watching her trial on the other hand…would not be good for her outcomes."

Draco had never felt more like a contagion. He knew he was dragging everyone down by being involved with him, but to hear it said so clearly was hard to stomach.

Standing up, Mr. Lorton made to leave, "I also put in a motion to have veritaserum not allowed due to your age, but I haven't got a ruling on that yet. So perhaps best to prepare yourself for having to be very honest about your level of participation during the war." And without waiting for a response, the grey man strode from the room and was gone, leaving Draco alone with his despair.

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Draco did not know where to go or what to do. It truly appeared that his life as he knew it was coming to an end. Perhaps he ought to Avada himself, at least that would be painless. Twenty years in Azkaban and he'd be as mad as dear Aunt Bella, perhaps even in five. People weren't known for keeping their sanity intact, look at his own father.

He found himself outside the library and pushed the door open. There was no sign of Madam Pince, but he could hear the soft humming of a voice he recognized back towards the restricted section. He followed it into the stacks, hunting his prey. She was here somewhere and he needed her.

The vanilla and floral scent of her teased him as he tracked her through the aisles. Finally he found her, as she was bent over a table loading her arms with repaired books to reshelve. For a change she was wearing a short brown pleated skirt, so as she bent over he saw a view of her knickers and they were green. His cock hardened in anticipation. He kept himself hidden in the shadows as she shelved the books, his heart beating rapidly as he watched every movement of her body.

Those legs of hers were long and perfect. The flawless olive skin of her arms with a smattering of freckles made him nearly pant with desire. She leaned over the table and held a book open, reading a section before she moved to put it away.

Draco came up behind her, gripping her thigh, forcing her down to the wood, running his finger along the seam of her knickers as she gasped, seeking the friction of his fingers in desperation. She cried out as his hand cupped her sex. She wanted him desperately and he needed to own her, possess her, claim her body with no denial that it could be anything else.

She was beautiful and amazing, he thought as he gripped her waist, spinning her about and tossing her onto the small table. One of his hands took her wrists and held them tight against the table over the top of her head, pinning her under his complete control.

She arched into his body, her eyes glassy and wide. She started to keen his name and his other hand went over her mouth and he whispered, "hush," into her ear as he drove her wild with his lips and tongue on her neck.

He reached down under her skirt and ripped her knickers away from her body as though they were no more than rags. He felt Hermione quivering as the torn fabric fell away.

Hermione bit her lip as Draco loomed over her. He unbuttoned his trousers, freeing his cock. She gasped as he slid inside of her, filling her body. He caressed every inch of her he could reach as he thrust into her where she lay on top of the table, her eyes closed as pleasure rolled through her. She wrapped her legs around his waist trying to pull him in even closer to her. He moaned low into her ear as she writhed on the tabletop.

Draco attempted to put all the feelings that he had for her into how he touched her. He was certain now that their time together was swiftly coming to a close and he wanted to let her know how he felt about her, even if he couldn't force the words go past his lips.

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