Soundtrack- Highly Suspect's "Lydia"
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TWO
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Draco appeared in the middle of the street with a small pop. His hood was pulled up around his face to hide his telltale white blond hair. He didn't think anyone had followed him, but he wasn't taking any chances, not tonight.
He stared at the house in front of him; strong red bricks, wide white windows, and a door shrouded in midnight shadows. Draco glanced around him one last time, making sure he had not drawn any attention before taking long strides right up to it.
He stood on the stoop for a moment and tried to soften his breathing. This was her house. Granger's house. This was where she played as a child, where she learned to read. Where she received her letter from Hogwarts and left this world behind to come into his.
Now he was going into hers.
"Alohomora," he whispered and was surprised when the lock turned and opened. Certainly Granger would have placed a special protection charms on her own home in order to keep out unwanted guests… Unless…
She knew cloaking her house in magic would leave a trace, even if they were protective enchantments. If anyone was looking for Muggleborns in hiding and came sniffing around, her magical wards would call to them like a fucking beacon.
"Clever little witch," Draco smirked. He pushed the door open and placed a heavy black boot inside her Muggle home.
It was… nice enough, he supposed. Clean, at least, but it was nothing like his own Manor. There was nothing wrong with it, it was just… Muggle. Switches on the wall and wires lining the floorboards. A picture hung on the wall of a flock of birds flying out of a tree, but their wings didn't flap and the flock did not swarm. They hung there, mid flight- unmoving. It was… unsettling.
Granger didn't belong in a place like this.
He moved deeper in and illuminated the tip of his wand with a sharp flick. There was a large box-like thing with a plate of glass over it… he thought he heard people at school say it was called a 'tell-vision', a way for Muggles to get information and entertainment. He prodded it with his wand and nothing happened. Draco glared at it and turned away.
There were pictures lining the mantle, a smiling man and a pretty woman. Draco let the light from his wand linger over them, looking for her, but she did not appear in a single one. He paused at a blank frame wondering if it was common for Muggles to leave pictures out of their frames or if this one was missing.
Missing… Granger.
Draco turned at a sound from upstairs and swiveled his wand around, ready to throw a curse if needed, but the house remained silent.
There was an accent table behind him next to the stairs. Keys, a wallet, and a hat sat on top of a stack of mail. A folded piece of paper caught his eye and he opened it. Printed were tickets to… Australia?
He knew there was talk of some Muggleborns leaving the country or going into hiding and the departure date was set for tomorrow.
"Good thing I'm here tonight then," he muttered to himself and tossed the papers back down on the table. Granger wasn't going to Australia. Granger wasn't going anywhere but back with him. Where he could keep her safe.
He had taken too long already, he needed to find her and fast. Draco placed one boot on the stairs and the thud of it made him cringe. He pointed his wand down at his feet and cast a nonverbal silencing spell then quickly made his way up the stairs, glancing at the pictures on the wall where she was once again mysteriously absent.
He needed to find her. Now.
Draco moved carefully down the hall, peering around with eyes that shone like mercury in the dark. He pushed one door open with his boot. A bathroom. Also clean and white and… nice. He had thought a Muggle house would have been more… Draco frowned. He wasn't sure what he thought anymore. He backed out, heading down the hall.
Passing another room with a closed door Draco paused and heard a low snore inside. Her parents. It was strange to think that the Muggles she came from were just on the other side of the door. Their Muggle blood had held just enough residual magic to make her a witch. Who were they? He'd ask her about it later, try and find out what line she came from. He couldn't match any of her features with the families he knew.
Shit, he hoped she wasn't related to the Notts.
He pushed the strange thoughts from his mind and continued down the hallway, trying his best to stay quiet but his breath seemed louder than normal and his heart was pushing adrenaline laced blood streaming into his fingertips and legs. He was so close. So close to her. There was only one door left in the hallway now and she had to be behind it.
His Granger. His girl.
Draco stopped in front of the door. It wasn't closed like the others, but cracked open. His eyes felt dry and he didn't think he had blinked since he topped the stairs.
She was going to be laying there, asleep in her bed. He was going to open the door and see her messy curls splayed out on her pillows, maybe her hand curled up by her face. Her blanket was probably resting on her stomach, she always seemed to be warm so she wouldn't have them pulled up to her chin in the heat of summer. Would she be wearing those thin cotton pajamas? Draco swallowed. Would she be wearing anything?
His hand was shaking as he placed it against the door and pushed it open.
Draco stared into the room.
Empty. It was… empty.
He stepped in, looking around in disbelief.
Draco sank onto the bed. She had gone. Granger was gone.
Tonight was the first time he had been able to leave the Manor. The Dark Lord had left once Yaxley sent word the Ministry had fallen. The few remaining Death Eaters crowded into the large foyer of Malfoy Manor had been directed to search for Potter.
He could find Potter later; he needed to find Granger first so instead Draco had come here.
He could faintly smell vanilla and cinnamon left on her bedding and he ran his hand over the blanket, balling it up in his fist as he quickly looked around the room. There were a surprising number of bare shelves in this room. He doubted Granger had an empty shelf since she was six so this was only further proof that she wasn't fucking here.
He had known something was wrong as soon as he unlocked the door. He knew as he walked through the Granger's living room. And he knew it now, sitting here alone on her bed. He sat his wand down next to him and took a deep breath, trying to suck up the last bits of her delicious smell that was still lingering.
There had only been a chance that she would be here, but he had taken it all the same. The spark of hope she had kindled in his chest burned and would not be extinguished no matter what reason told him. He told her he would come for her, all she had to do was be here, wait for him, and they could be together.
But she wasn't. She had left. She had left him.
The weight of it all crashed down over him and Draco leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees and running his fingers up into his hair. She was wandering around somewhere out there, probably with Potter and Weasley doing Merlin knows what when she should be safe and here with him. Granger should be with him.
Something brushed against his leg and Draco looked down to see the ginger ball of fur that would sometimes follow Granger out onto the grounds. The cat turned his squashed face up at Draco and meowed insistently at him. It was an awful fucking sound. Draco blinked and looked down into his yellow eyes.
"She left you too, huh?" he said softly and reached down to scratch the cat's ugly face before he even thought about what he was doing.
Granger had told him her cat's name once, long ago… what had it been? He ran his fingers down to the cat's collar and pulled it around until he read 'Crookshanks' embossed on a small gold circle.
"Crookshanks?" Draco wrinkled his nose and the cat meowed again. He stared down at it for a while more. "Well, she'll want to see you once I get her back." Draco sighed and picked up the hairy creature, tucking him under his arm and against his black robes before walking out of the empty room, the Muggle house, and into the dark street.
He cast one last look at the red brick house and then glanced down at the ginger cat in his arms. "You ready?" Crookshanks slowly blinked his yellow eyes back at him. They disappeared with a swirl and a swish of black, leaving the street just as silent and empty as it had been before.
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"Where is he?!"
The Dark Lord's rage was a palpable thing, filling the dimly lit room and making it darker than it already was.
"You were summoned by the taboo and then…?" he trailed off; disdain in his voice and disgust on his face.
Rowle was a large man, but he was shrinking by the second, cowed by the fury coming off the Dark Lord in waves.
"I…" Rowle's voice failed him. Sweat poured down his red face, drenching the collar the blue Muggle uniform he still wore. "I can't remember."
For a moment, Draco thought the Dark Lord might spontaneously combust. He'd read about it some; happened to wizards when their magic became too volatile and violent. It turned on them, engulfing them in flames that burned too hot, too quickly to be put out.
But the Dark Lord's presence made the light from the fireplace weaker, thinner, and on second inspection, Draco didn't think there was a single shred of anything warm in the man he called Master.
"You… can't… remember." His thin lips curled back and the slits of his eyes narrowed until they were barely visible. Rowle took a single shaking breath and looked too terrified to do much else and left his mouth hanging open.
Then he screamed.
It wasn't a scream of terror, high and loud or a roar of a man trying to contain it; this was an animalistic noise, one of pure agony. Pulled from somewhere deep inside him, yanked up, and forced out by something stronger than the man emitting it. Draco suppressed a shiver as bloody tears began to stream from Rowle's inner eyes, running down his nose and into his gaping, screeching mouth.
Draco knew enough about Legilimency to recognize what the Dark Lord was doing. He was tearing, ripping, into Rowle's mind. Causing his body to have a physical reaction to the mental anguish he was enduring. It was almost impossible to watch, but Draco did not let his gaze waiver for even a moment.
Instead he let his vision slip out of focus. He wasn't here. He wasn't here. He was in the large white bed with Granger. Her hands ran through his hair, her leg slid over his waist, her pink little lips opened up…
Rowle was choking on his own blood.
Right in front of him. Granger's expression changed from desire to disgust as she looked up at him from the big white bed. Draco blinked and pushed the thought of her so far from himself it was like she had never been there at all.
The Dark Lord turned away from Rowle who collapsed onto the floor, shaking and holding his head in his large hands. Draco glanced at his Master; fury, rage, and wrath layered over him, interlocking like scales. "Modified," he murmured to himself, "Obliviated."
Someone had broken the taboo tonight; moments after the attack on the Ministry, minutes really and Draco knew, he knew it was Potter. Only the Order used the Dark Lord's name and who else would be spouting off about him right then but Potter? Stupid fucking… dick. Maybe one day the fucking Chosen One would choose to use his brain for once. Honestly, how was he not dead already?
"You lost something important to me, Rowle."
Rowle swallowed hard, drinking down his own blood and flicked his crimson filled eyes up to the Dark Lord.
"Would you like to get it back?"
"Yes! Yes, my Lord!" Rowle pushed himself up to his knees. He tried to wipe the blood from his face, but only succeeded in smearing it across his wide cheeks. "I'll give you anything you ask- Potter, Shackelbolt-"
The Dark Lord smiled, but it was… wrong.
"I need your memories, Rowle."
Rowle made a choking noise. "But I… I don't-"
"Draco."
The sound of his name snapped Draco to attention. He stepped forward, wand at his side. Ready. Willing.
"You wanted to prove yourself to me."
Even though the Dark Lord had accepted his offer to hunt, he had not sent Draco out yet and his detour to Granger's house had been the only chance he'd had to look for her. He needed to do better. Be better. For her. He would not fail again.
He did not hesitate to answer. "Yes Master."
"You think you can hunt for me? The answers I want are somewhere in Rowle's head. Bring them to me."
Draco's hawthorn wand was trained on Rowle's blood streaked face. For half a second, he remembered how it looked in Granger's hand. How she had held it; fingers curling around, warm palm pressed flat against the handle. Gripping it firm and tight. How it had never looked longer than it did in her small fist.
If Rowle had in fact encountered Potter tonight then he might have seen Granger. Where else would she be but at her precious Saint Potter's side? Probably squeezed somewhere in between him and Weasley because she had left with them instead of waiting on him like he fucking told her to.
And if Rowle was Obliviated then he obviously had confronted someone in the Order tonight and subtly wasn't exactly his style. Rowle was a giant and would see someone as small as Granger as easy pickings. He might have turned his wand on her, just like this. He might have looked into her big doe eyes and… hurt her. Made her cry. Looked down at her laying at his feet as she stared back up at him-
"Draco, don't do this."
His blood beat heavy in his veins.
He would do his Lord's bidding to survive, but this, this, he wanted to do.
Rowle tried to blink the blood from his eyes, somewhat successfully, but could not erase the look of terror that was widening them to such a size Draco wondered if they might fall out all together.
If he had hurt her, Draco would make sure of it.
"Crucio."
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"WHAT THE FUCK?!"
Draco was upset.
He stared at the empty kennels; moldy blankets, overturned bowls, and a frayed collar were scattered across the darkly stained floor.
"Pudge!"
Draco tapped his wand against his leg, fuming.
"Pudge!"
The elf was so old that his eyes were almost forced shut by the weight of the wrinkles bearing down on them. He had a heavy limp, some accident from before Draco was born, and was missing two fingers on his right hand.
Draco did remember what caused that disfiguration.
Pudge's ears pricked in Draco's direction and his long nose twitched. Draco gritted his teeth and held his wand stiffly at his side.
"Sir?" the elf croaked in a voice that had a deep rumbling to it.
"Where are my hounds?"
Pudge looked around as if he expected to see the kennels full of jumping, barking dogs.
His hunting pack had been decimated during his practices with Bellatrix, but he still had pups in training. They would have to be drilled, put through the paces, and required to have complete obedience, but he was fastidious in his breeding and they had all come from decent stock. He could remake the pack.
If they were fucking here.
"Gone." Pudge spat on the ground.
"Yes, Pudge," Draco snarled. "I am aware they are gone."
Pudge nodded slowly in agreement, squinting as he looked around the empty kennels. Draco's eye twitched.
"Where did they go?"
Pudge sniffed the air with his snout like nose, the end of it jumping slightly.
"Barked."
His patience was wearing thin. No, not thin, it was damn near pellucid and he made no attempt to hide his ire. Draco opened his mouth to start threatening the old elf with unspeakable torture when it spoke again.
"Snake did not like barks."
Black spots played in his vision. He could feel the blood, his actual blood, drain from his head and there was a rising, loud ringing in his ears.
The snake. The snake ate his dogs.
Just like it ate that woman. The professor.
He hadn't really known her, only saw her in the Great Hall or sometimes in a corridor between classes. He hadn't even known her name until the Dark Lord had introduced her to the assembled Death Eaters.
Then murdered her and fed her to his snake.
The jaws opened wide, the throat expanded as it slowly swallowed her down. It had taken over an hour. How long had the pups taken?
Draco bent down and picked up the collar, running his thumb over the frayed threads.
He tossed it back down.
"Clean this place up."
Draco didn't look back as he made his way out of the kennels and onto the grounds. He couldn't go back in yet, not when he was this upset. He needed to cool down, needed to walk this off. Needed to stop fucking picturing that god-awful snake swallowing his dogs whole.
How was he supposed to hunt without his hounds? They tracked his prey and ran it down for him. Kept it at bay until he arrived to deal the killing blow. He had mortgaged his future, his life, on hunting down Potter all because he wanted to find her. Needed to. Had to. There wasn't another option for him anymore.
He didn't really give a shit about Potter. The idiot would get himself killed whether there was a Dark Lord or not, but Draco was not going to let the fucker take Granger down with him. If that meant handing the Chosen One over to the Dark Lord to keep her safe, so be it. It's not like Scarhead stood a chance against anyways.
Granger would mourn, but… Draco would be there to comfort her. And she'd be here with him. It would all be okay once he got her back. It always was. Every time she had tried to leave he'd gotten her back. This would be no different.
Draco let all the air out of his lungs and stayed like that until the count of three, feeling the weight of his chest pushing in on him before turning back to the Manor, steps heavy but determined as his black boots crushed the thick green grass underneath. The back of the Manor came into view, looming over him, stretching higher the closer he got to it.
Turning back for a moment Draco looked out over the expansive grounds; long sloping fields almost as far as he could see, but in the distance was the smudge of dark woods surrounding them. He had an overwhelming urge to run into them and disappear. Flee. Leave it all behind. Just turn and run. Take off. Make it to the trees and disappear inside of them.
Run. Away from here. Away from his Master, from the war, from his whole life.
Run to her.
He'd never make it. The Dark Lord would send his wolves to hunt him down and he'd be dead before he ever got to Granger. Or maybe they'd drag him back here and his Master would feed him to the snake as well.
The sudden horrible image of those jaws unhinging, scaly skin of the throat expanding into a grotesque bulge and the muscles slithering down the length of the snake, swallowing…
The professor. His hounds. Her cat.
He couldn't leave, not when he had something here worth staying for. And goddamn it she was worth everything. Anything.
No more thoughts of running, no more feeling sorry for himself. He couldn't change anything that had happened. Dumbledore was dead. His hounds were gone. Granger was gone. He couldn't do anything for the dead, but he could do something about Granger. She was still alive, still out there and she needed him. Needed his protection and the mark on his arm allowed him to give it to her.
Cruel irony, but true nonetheless.
Draco took three deep breaths before walking carefully up the stone steps onto the veranda and the large doors to the Manor opened for him. His boots thudded dully against the richly designed rug that lay over the black marble floor. Tall paned windows allowed light to permeate through, reflecting off of the dark floor before being swallowed by the intricate design of the carpet.
Topping the stairs, Draco almost lost his footing when he heard the meowing wail from behind him. His head spun around so fast his neck gave an unhappy crack. The squashed face of her cat was standing at the foot; bandy legs perched on the bottom stair and bottlebrush tail flicking absently behind him.
Draco's blood ran cold.
He tore down the stairs, grabbing the cat by the back of its neck and hauling it up, bunching its thick fur in his fist.
It yowled angrily.
"What the fuck are you doing down here?" Draco snarled, holding it up to glare into it's burnt yellow eyes. "I told you to stay in my room! How did you even get out?"
The cat twisted in his grip, trying to get free.
He looked around anxiously; expecting to see the snake sliding towards them, slit eyes wide with hunger.
An angry paw took a swipe at him.
Draco ignored it and carefully tucked the furball under his arm, holding it up to his chest and jumped back up the stairs, letting his long legs stretch and taking them three at a time.
Eyes sweeping the upstairs hall, looking for any sign of movement; Draco pulled his wand from his robes before latching his hand back onto the cat, wood disappearing into the thick orange fur.
He slammed the door behind him and dropped Crookshanks unceremoniously onto his bed.
"You are not to leave my rooms, understand?"
The cat flicked its tail.
He was not in the mood right now. He couldn't shake the image of the empty kennels from his head.
He'd fucking kill that snake if it tried to eat her cat.
He'd fucking kill it.
"Answer me," he growled.
Crookshanks hissed at him.
Draco hissed back.
.
"Shit, Blaise, you didn't say-"
"Draco? OH MY GOD!"
"Well fuck me!" Theo let out a single loud laugh. "I thought you were off taking over the world!"
Draco glanced at Blaise who gave him a bored shrug and then stood up to clasp hands with Theo. He couldn't help but notice the way Theo's eyes darted down to his arm for just a moment and a strange expression crossed his face. Draco's fingers twitched uncomfortably.
"Hey, Pans," Draco said as he let go of Theo's hand and gave Pansy a quick hug. She threw one arm around him and kept her other hand inside of Theo's. He watched Theo's hand tighten and pull on hers a little. Draco looked away quickly. "Yeah, you know, I had the day off."
Blaise chuckled from behind him and Draco smirked as he sat back down across from him. Pansy got comfortable on the sofa, dramatically crossing her legs, while Theo walked over to pour himself a drink from the long bar on the other side of the room.
The Zabini Mansion was the opposite of Malfoy Manor. Everything was clean lines, sparking glass, and tastefully designed blank spaces. Blaise said his Mother remodeled every time she remarried and judging by the modern touches Draco assumed Blaise was not exaggerating. The bar held an impressive amount of crystal glasses of every shape and size along with shelves of liquor, wine, and beer along the wall.
"Hey, that was a present from the Minister!" Blaise glared as Theo popped the cork out of a bottle with a foreign label on it.
"Yeah? Which one?" Theo laughed. "Well, whichever one it was, the bugger had good taste." Theo sniffed it and made an appreciative noise. "This is some strong stuff. Draco?" He held up the bottle and shook it a little. The amber liquid sloshed inside and Draco's mouth watered. He had done his best to hold back, but every day was harder than the last and a glass or two of wine at supper really wasn't fucking cutting it anymore.
He looked from the bottle to Theo who was grinning wickedly, just like he used to back when they were friends. Or at least as close to friends as they ever had been. Hell, maybe they actually would have been friends if Draco hadn't spent the most of the last year locked up working on the Vanishing Cabinet and spending any moment of spare time fucking himself into Granger's cunt.
Fuck, he missed her.
A ray of light caught the bottle, making the whisky shine.
She'd be mad at him for getting drunk. She'd put her hands on her hips and narrow her eyes and open her cute little mouth to say, "Do you think that's a good idea? Really, Draco?"
But she wasn't here to tell him she was right.
"A chance to drink someone else's store dry? Like I'm going to pass that up."
Theo threw his head back with a laugh then poured Draco a generous drink, handing it to him before plopping down next to Pansy and throwing his arm around the back of the couch.
Draco downed it at once.
"He only gave us one bottle," Blaise protested.
"Then I better hurry before Theo drinks it all." Draco ignored Theo as he pawed at Pansy and leaned over towards Blaise. "Why didn't you tell me they were coming?"
Blaise lifted his eyes in boredom. "You wouldn't have come and I've no one else to play chess with. Theo's terrible and Pansy steals the pieces."
Draco pursed his lips and clasped Blaise on the back of his neck, pulling him close. "You're an asshole."
Blaise smirked at him. "It's what makes us such good friends."
Draco shook his head and grinned at him. "Then you won't mind if I get another drink."
He pushed Blaise back playfully and walked over to the bar, picking up the silver tongs to place a few cubes of ice in his crystal tumbler.
"Who do I have to fuck around here to get a drink?"
Pansy was leaning on the bar next to him. Her hair was a few inches longer, brushing the tops of her shoulders. Her eyes were dark and playful and she picked at her bangs, making them fall perfectly over her forehead. Pansy had always loved to flirt.
Draco raised a brow. "Probably your boyfriend."
Pansy's laugh was a sharp bark-like sound; Draco knew it well. But it was Granger's light ringing laugh that echoed in his head. He loved being able to make her laugh, make her smile. Make her eyes shine like melted chocolate as her lips opened and that sweet little giggle slipped out.
"He's probably still recovering," Pansy winked at Draco. "I fucked him in the carriage on the way here. Those bumps… Ooh!" She gave an exaggerated shiver.
Something moved in the corner of Draco's eye and he glanced over to see Blaise watching him carefully, his dark eyes collecting hidden bits of information he had no business in. Draco gripped his glass as Blaise's brows lowered in disapproval.
He knew. About Granger. One of the reasons Draco had come here this evening was because Blaise was the only one he could talk to about this. Not that he really wanted to talk about this. But… it was better than sitting in his room and losing another staring contest with that orange fur ball again.
He turned away and grabbed another tumbler and filled it with ice. "So you haven't bitten it off yet?"
Pansy took the drink he offered her. "Not yet. Theo's a good boy. A very good boy."
Draco sipped his whisky and felt the pleasant burn slide down his throat. It was cold by the time it hit his stomach. He glanced at the bottle, wanting to grab it and suck it down until he couldn't feel the heat or the cold or anything anymore. Especially not her.
Because he could. He could feel Granger in every second of every day, pounding her fists against his walls, clawing at the floorboards he was trapping her under. If she didn't stop it, he'd get her a cage. See if she could leave him then.
Shit, Theo was right, this whisky was strong.
Pansy sipped hers quietly, staring at the bottle looking like she'd like to drink it all too.
"How are things at home?" Draco asked in a low voice.
Pansy glared at him. "Fine."
He tilted his head and leaned a little heavier on the bar. "Don't lie, Pans. You don't have to with me."
She rolled her eyes heavily and took a gulping drink, hissing as she set the tumbler back down. "Stayed for a week then told him I was going to Daph's and fucked off to Theo's."
"So it's serious?"
Pansy shrugged. "It's not forever, but… it's good." She smiled a little and Draco couldn't remember the last time he had actually seen Pansy smile. It faded as quickly as it had come. "Plus the Nott Estate has a pool, remember? And no Daddy around to tell me not to swim this time."
Draco nodded and took another sip. "Want me to botch a mission and let an Order member have a go him?"
Pansy let out another barking laugh, ending in a deep breath before looking back at him. "You've done enough, Draco. I'm not your problem anymore."
He smirked. "I won't miss the teeth."
Pansy smiled at him. "Theo quite likes it."
"Pervert." Draco snorted.
Her smile slid into a smirk. "He goes down on me too."
Draco paused with his lips on the lip of his glass. The feel of Granger's thighs around his ears was almost unbearable. He wanted his mouth on her. Now. Wanted to hear her soft little moans as he slid his tongue into her slit, claiming her with nothing more than a few licks. One. Two. Three. Four. He still had a record to beat.
Draco licked his lips. "Oh?"
Pansy leaned forward until her tits were sitting on the bar. "You missed out, Draco."
He grabbed the bottle. "I guess I'll just have to drown my sorrows."
Draco fell back into his chair and Pansy snuggled herself up next to Theo. He grinned down at her and she pushed a thick lock of his hair out of his face.
It hit him.
The whisky, the loneliness, the everything. It crashed into his chest and shook the foundation he had built his walls up from. He didn't want to be here. Didn't want to sit here and listen to Blaise talk about his internship at school this year; didn't want to watch Theo and Pansy be happy with each other. He wanted to be happy. He wanted a future. With her. With Granger.
Hermione.
Draco chugged his drink, ice clinking as he gulped it down.
"Damn, Draco! Now that's what I'm talking about!" Theo slapped his knee and followed suit. Pansy giggled and Blaise rolled his eyes.
Draco's hands were shaking as he filled his tumbler up to the rim.
Blaise grabbed the bottle from him roughly, glaring at him as he summoned his own glass from the bar.
"Oi," Theo shook his empty tumbler at Blaise.
Draco stared at ice bobbing in the liquor. Shrouded by his fist around the crystal tumbler it had turned a richer, deeper shade. Brown. Brown like her big doe eyes as she looked up at him, big and so fucking innocent.
Salazar fucking Slytherin he'd give anything just to look into them again. To be able to wrap his arms around her, pull her against him, feel the warmth of her skin and brush his fingers through her twisting curls. To be able to lean down and take her sweet, soft lip in between his teeth and bite down on it until she whimpered with want then lick it, comforting her until she was whimpering again.
He wanted to stare into her beautiful eyes and watch them light up as he told her he loved her.
But without his hounds he was further away from finding her than he'd ever been. He was losing everything and had no idea how to get any of it back. An overwhelming sense of hopelessness sunk over him, following the whisky as it pumped in his blood. His throat felt tight but he figured he could still force the tumbler full of whisky down it to try and stop the dark thoughts creeping past the thin mental walls he was having trouble keeping in place.
He had let himself think about her and everytime he did it made his foundations shake.
"I can't believe you'd go to something like that." Blaise wrinkled his nose. "What could possibly be entertaining about watching two animals tear each other to pieces?"
"It's fucking brutal," Theo laughed into his tumbler. "Blood everywhere."
"What's that?" Draco's head snapped in his direction.
"There's this club, yeah?" Theo pulled his arm from around Pansy and leaned forward. "On full moons they stage these fights."
"Fights? What kind of fights?"
Theo smiled. "Werewolves."
Draco's face turned blank as a piece of marble as his mind carved out the first plan he'd had in weeks.
He didn't need hounds, not if he had wolves.
.
The windows were large square panes, held together with thick black metal. Vines of ivy crawled up them, slowly creeping along the eaves with twisting tendrils. Everything was cast in a green hue as light reflected off of the waxy triangular leaves. Draco's footfalls were heavy and echoed down the hall, black cloak trailing behind him.
He pushed open the door and the heat hit him even stronger; thick, humid, and choking. Draco wiped his brow as moisture dotted his skin. The late summer sun streamed strongly in through the panes of glass and he rolled his shoulders, feeling a single drop of sweat drip down the indentation of his spine.
The Conservatory's walls and ceilings were all made out of large panes of glass, carefully cut into designs so that the light fell in scattered rays. Leaves, flowers, stalks, and petals covered almost every surface in the large room. Tables upon tables of flowers of every color, leaves of every shape and plants too strange to imagine.
His Mother was on the other side of the large room, pruning some leaves off of a heavily flowered plant with a pair of sharply gleaming clippers. She did not look away from her work when she spoke to him.
"You'll need to go to London next week."
"Why?" Draco picked his way through the jungle his Mother had grown in here. She loved living things, spending hours in here tending to her plants and filling the house with fresh flowers every day. He loved coming home for the summers and seeing the strange blooms and blossoms his Mother had curated while he was away.
Since they had returned from the island the vases had remained empty.
"Your Father has work to be done at the Ministry and you are going to accompany him." Her tone was clipped and she snapped a stem off of the stalk, tossing it into a rubbish pile by her feet.
"Why can't you go?"
Narcissa turned to him, her blue eyes icy enough to cool the air in the sweltering room. "Do you have any idea what your little display in front of the Dark Lord did? It made him look weak. It made him a target. If his own son doesn't respect him, why should anyone else?"
"It saved his fucking life." Draco raised his brows. "You think the Dark Lord would have chosen him over me? I'm the only reason he's even breathing right now."
"Language!" she hissed and waved the clippers at his face, but Draco could see the shard of fear in her eyes. He felt a pang of empathy for her ring in his chest. If he had shown weakness for his Father, the Dark Lord would have struck, using it as a blow against them. It was only his dismissal that saved Lucius from the fate he had rightfully earned. Still, it couldn't have been easy for his Mother to watch her son turn on his Father. What would she think of him if she knew what he had tried to do?
Narcissa set the clippers down on the table and exhaled. "Yes, you did. You saved him. I… I don't think I've told you what that-" she stopped talking and Draco felt uncomfortable as he watched her hand leave the handle of the clippers and latch onto his. "Thank you, Draco."
He didn't want to be thanked for what he had done. It wasn't something to be proud of. He wanted her to let go. He wanted her to hug him.
"I didn't do it for him." He pulled his hand from hers and stood up straighter. He could remember pulling on her skirts when he was frightened as a boy, watching her lean down to pick him up with a bright smile on her face. She had taught him how to be strong, how to control himself. Now he stood over her, a full head and a half taller and it was her looking to him for reassurance. "I did it for you."
Her lips tightened into what was trying to be a smile. "Thank you."
He twisted the Malfoy ring around on his finger. It should have gone back to his Father once he was released from Azkaban, but Draco had not offered it and Lucius had not asked. Maybe he should, to try and smooth things over and show that he was not usurping his Father's place, but… Draco closed his hand into a fist.
"What is he doing at the Ministry?"
His Mother lightly cleared her throat. "Accepting an award. For loyal service."
Draco wanted to laugh.
"It's an important event for him. For us. If you are there at his side it will show that the Malfoys are standing together."
"He can barely stand at all, Mother."
"He's gotten better."
"No," Draco said darkly, "he hasn't."
When he had gone to raid the liquor cabinet Draco had found almost a whole shelf of empty bottles.
"That's another reason why you need to go."
This time he did laugh. It was a bitter sound and Draco barely recognized it as his own.
"You want me to keep him sober?"
Narcissa reached for his hand again, but stopped. She looked up at him, eyes darting between his and Draco watched as her pride and her concern tossed in her ocean blue eyes. They had once been the still waters, but now they were always churning waves. "I want you to keep him safe."
Another name to add to the list.
Another body if he failed.
More death. He was drowning in it. Choking on blood. Screaming in pain.
And he'd done it all to himself.
Draco barely breathed on his way back to his rooms. By the time he closed the door behind him his chest was shaking with everything he was trying to contain. He could barely stay still, his blood was racing in his veins, hot and cold all at the same time. His throat was closing, tightening and his lungs seized up, holding in the meager amount of oxygen that they could pull down.
Down down down.
No way out.
Draco was sweating; hair darkened by moisture and sticking to his forehead. He felt like his clothes were choking him. Heavy cloak, weighing on his shoulders. He pulled at the clasp, fingers sliding sloppily over it as he ripped it from him. The collar of his shirt was strangling him. No time to unbutton it, Draco tore it open, long fingers clutching at his chest where his heart raged from the inside out.
The sickly soft skin of his scars pulled as he heaved in gasping breath after gasping breath. He tried to count to three. He tried to calm back down. He tried… God he had tried so hard.
His shirt tore as he forced it off of his shoulders, ripping it over his hands.
His scars stood out like slithering snakes across his body. He wanted to pull them back open. Release whatever it was that was inside him right now. Get it out. Out. Out.
But there was no safeword that could stop this.
The cat meowed loudly and Draco snarled a silencing charm in its direction, stopping the awful noise from coming out of its flat face.
Draco was wheezing when he held out his arm, the muscles clenched, popping out blueish green veins along the inside of his forearm. The mark ached down to his bones. Burning, searing, scorching.
But not half as much as she did.
He grunted as the tip of his wand dug deep into the white skin right above the skull. Sweat glistened over him and his blunt nails dug into his palm and he could feel the heavy weight of the Malfoy ring on his finger. He was struggling to keep the walls in his head in place. Keep the pain contained, controlled. Keep her controlled. The Granger in his head was screaming his name, pleading with him.
And all he wanted to do was give in and let her out.
He couldn't face her, not after what he'd done. Not after what he was going to have to do. He pulled his walls closer, creating a small, safe space where she couldn't get him.
Where he was alone. Just him and the wand and the pain.
Draco screwed his eyes shut, chest rising and falling as he tried to summon the strength to do it. He'd done it to Rowle. He'd done it to that Muggle. His hand shook, the wand almost slipped on his sweat soaked skin. He'd failed at everything else, this was the only thing he was good at and now he couldn't even do that.
Useless.
Draco's eyes opened and the color faded from his vision, leaving the world in murky grey, stark white, and pitch black. A sudden numbness ran through him and Draco felt it hollow him out. The walls closed in on each other, crushing him under their weight.
Draco's face fell into an impassive mask and his chest stilled, devoid of air.
Breathing in just enough to utter the word, Draco stared down at the dark wood pressed into his pale flesh and murmured, "Crucio."
.
Hermione tapped the faucet with her wand and dirty water spouted out, splashing against the white porcelain of the tub. She jumped back and the pipes groaned and shook against the wall before spitting out clear water, rinsing the dirty brown from the smooth white surface. The lamps on the wall flickered dully and Hermione wrapped her arms around herself as she watched the tub begin to fill.
Grimmauld Place did not feel like it had before. The large house had once been full of friends and Order members, rushing in and out. Mrs. Weasley arguing with Kreacher in the kitchen, Fred and George scurrying off to their room with arms full of chirping, clicking boxes, Tonks always bumping into things and making more of a mess than what was already there…
But now it was empty, shuttered and dark. So different but so familiar at the same time.
It was strange to think that this was Harry's house now. She still expected to see Sirius coming down the stairs, giving her an encouraging wink. They had gotten along well, despite Sirius being a bit too reckless for her taste and catching him rolling his eyes when she darted back upstairs for a book, but Hermione often thought that helping him escape from Ministry custody had given them what should have been the start to a lifelong friendship.
If Bellatrix Lestrange had not killed him two years ago.
She could hear Bellatrix's mad laugh as Draco slammed his boot into her chest. The memory of it stilled the breath in her lungs. Sirius's cousin, Draco's aunt… The one he had pushed her down in front of, the one he had protected her from.
Hermione sighed. She had tried to ignore the slumped figure in the recesses of her brain, but she was alone, overwhelmed, and so tired of fighting the feelings still beating in her heart.
She flicked her wand, turning the faucet off and then swished it towards the door. The lock clicked into place.
Her shirt slipped over her head, curls twirling back down around her shoulders. She slipped her jeans down over her legs, carefully stepping out of them and folding them twice before placing them on the counter with her shirt. Her fingers unclasped her bra easily and she slid it down her arms, the cool air hitting her chest as it expanded with a deep breath.
Hermione paused for a moment and stared at herself in the mirror. How could she look the same when everything had changed? The sulking figure behind the growing pile of messy thoughts raised his head. She took a sharp breath and slipped her knickers down before sticking her foot in the bath, sinking into the hot water as fast as she could.
It had been her idea to camp in the sitting room together, but she had hardly had a moment away from either Harry or Ron since arriving at Grimmauld Place. It felt nice to be on her own for just a moment, to not have to keep up the pretense in front of them. Especially Ron, however she sometimes noticed Harry looking at her out of the corner of his eye as if he was trying to figure something out. She sunk down further into the water, leaving only her head above and leaned back.
Hermione closed her eyes.
"Hello, Sweetheart." Silver eyes gleamed at her from the crouched figure.
Her heart weighed heavily in her chest, dragging her further into the water.
"Poor kitten," he cooed. "And poor little pussy… no one is there to pet it."
She took a deep breath. She could hear his deep, condescending chuckle.
"No one but you."
Hermione gripped the edges of the tub. Hard.
He leaned forward, coming into focus. Godric, she had missed his smug face.
"Touch it for me."
She screwed her eyes shut tighter; hoping the lights flashing behind them would blot him out.
The shadows deepened.
"Touch…" Draco was smirking, "it."
Hermione's hands fell into the water.
"Good girl."
Her breath came a little faster and the water lapped at her chest as she moved her hands under it.
"Easy, pet," his deep voice guided her. "Just feel yourself first."
Hermione slid her hand between her legs, lightly rubbing her hand over herself a few times. The anticipation built up in her and Draco's face became clearer in her head.
"That feels good, doesn't it? Mmm, I know it does. I know you've been missing this. Go ahead, Sweetheart. You're allowed."
Hermione bit her lip and spread her legs a little wider.
"Touch your clit for me." A shiver passed through her at the sound of his commanding tone. "Touch it. Tease it. Do it just like me, pet."
Oh God, it didn't take much. He was right, it had been so long and she had missed him so much. His little smirks, his gleaming eyes, his way of making everything feel like it was going to be okay.
His love.
"I know, kitten. I know you miss me. Keep rubbing; don't stop until I tell you. You're a good little whore, aren't you? And you're going to do exactly what I tell you."
"Yes," she whispered and her head fell to the side, warm cheek pressed into the cool porcelain.
Draco was kneeling beside the tub. His sleeve was rolled up and his hand was in the water, tracing lazy circles in it. Hermione let out the smallest, weakest moan.
"That's my girl."
She was. She was still his girl. His girl. His girl. His good little girl.
"Softer now." His voice was hoarse. "I said to tease it."
Hermione nodded, wet curls shaking by her flushed cheeks.
"Yes, that's it. I want you needy. I want you begging for it." Hermione's teeth were digging into her lip painfully. Just like his. "You desperate little whore… Look at you- hand between your legs, playing with yourself… just to please me."
"Yes," she gasped.
"Stop. Take your hand away, slut."
Her body protested, wanting more, needing more, but Hermione obeyed.
"Stick them in your mouth. You've messed your fingers. I want you to lick them clean. That is what a bath is for, all after."
Hermione swallowed and lifted her hand up out of the water.
"Let go of that lip and- Oh kitten…"
Hermione rubbed her finger over her swollen lip. She could feel the indentations from her own teeth on it before she opened her mouth and slipped her fingers inside, tasting herself. Her hips gave a small jerk and she heard Draco chuckle again.
He was still watching her, fingers playing in her bath water. His sly smile was set in place and his mist grey eyes were latched onto hers.
"Now that deserves a reward." Hermione smiled up at him and watched his eyes shine like silver for her.
"Back between your legs now, pet."
Hermione's lip hurt as it pulled into a wide smile and she sighed as her hand returned to soothe her ache. For him.
He leaned forward and plucked one of her curls from the water. Hermione watched as he brought it to his mouth and sucked the water from it. It slipped through his lips before he wrapped it around his finger and gave it a quick tug.
"Fuck yourself."
"Yes sir."
She bit back a moan as she thought about how Draco's hand felt. His fingers, and just slightly calloused and surprisingly strong from Quidditch. His hand was larger than hers and no effort was needed to slide his long fingers all the way in her while reaching up to twirl his thumb over her bud. She wanted to grab his wrist and thrust herself against his hand. She wanted to hear him chuckle a little and tell her what a good slut she was for him. She was so close she just needed… needed…
"You know what you need. Do it. Make that pussy come for me."
Hermione slid her other hand over her thigh and pinched the bruised bite there. Pain flared to life in it and Draco growled deeply in her ear. A frisson shot through her and her body stiffened as it tried to contain the pulses of pleasure pounding through her.
She arched her back and almost silently gasped, "Draco!"
"There's my girl," Draco purred. "There she is."
Hermione pressed her fingers in just a little bit more and everything fell away as the pain and pleasure reacted to each other, mixing to combust inside ehr. No more horcruxes, no more war, no more world crashing around her. He was doing it again. He wasn't even here, but he was giving her the unbelievable bliss that he always had.
"Come," Draco ordered. "Yeah, that's it. Come. Come for me."
She was shaking, water splashed around her. She couldn't stop, didn't want to stop. She wanted this, him. It didn't matter that she shouldn't or what he was or anything else, all that mattered was how he made her feel…
"And I'll come for you, Hermione. I promise."
She caught herself before she sank completely under the water. Hermione took a deep, startled breath through her nose and pushed herself up against the back of the tub, ears ringing and eyes wide.
She was out of breath. Her heart pounded in her chest and her legs were numb in the now tepid water.
Random muscles still twitched every few seconds and Hermione clung to the sides of the tub as she stared down into her floating reflection in the bathwater, wide eyes, red cheeks, and messy, wet curls. It didn't matter that she had run, he still had a hold on her that she couldn't shake off. And only with her pride flayed from her was she able to admit maybe she didn't want to.
Draco made his way back to his dark corner behind her messy thoughts and threw himself down, smirking back at her.
.
A/N: I am going to do my best to update weekly. I can't promise I will always be able to, but damn it if I am not going to give it my all. Updates should come out on Thursdays, but if you ever want more information Twitter is the best place for any updates on the status and/or schedule. Be warned, my Twitter is +18 so if you'd rather not interact with me on there, I will also post release dates/links on my Instagram and Tumblr.