I am blown away by the reception of the last chapter. WOW. Y'all are the best readers anyone could ever ask for. Love you all.
Beta'd by my darling Bree who means everything to me. Seriously, just amazing. I cannot say thank you enough for everything she does for me and this story.
Soundtrack- "Beautiful Crime" by Tamer and "white dove" by Koda
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SIXTEEN
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Draco kept his focus on the cracks in the floor as he forced himself up.
Thick black lines cutting through the worn wood. There was a knot missing and he could vaguely feel air moving up through the hole.
Sitting up hurt. The scars were new and tight, barely covering his sliced flesh. His head was worse. Swirling and thumping enough to make him sick, but Draco bore it. He was no stranger to pain. Under Granger's care he was getting… well, not better, but… healed.
He stared at the cracks in the floor. They stretched to the wall in long, straight, unbroken lines. Each one the same as the next.
Was he the same?
No. The answer was easy. Something had changed in him, but he just wasn't sure what.
Draco thought cracks on a different floor, ones that had been sharp and serrated, tearing up Theo's skin as he shook from the torture curse. Draco's curse.
His vision narrowed in on the line in between his feet. It felt like he could just slide down into it. Hide down there. Crouch in the darkness and wait for everything to be over. The war, the pain. Maybe even his whole life.
But he'd miss her.
He didn't want to go into the darkness without her.
He couldn't lose her. Not again. Not ever.
Not when he had just barely gotten her back. It had almost been a year now since she had seen his mark and left him because of what he was. Who he was.
"I don't want someone like you to love me." Draco could almost hear the words floating out of the gap below him.
It was awful having to watch her live her life and not be a part of it. Not be able to grab her, hold her, touch her.
His fingers twitched on his knee.
But she had come back, she had given him a chance to set it right and he had fucked it up. Failed.
He had lost her again.
Without her it was as if the earth had opened up and swallowed him whole. He had been alone, but pressed in on all sides at the same time. He had freed his Father, but trapped himself in the process.
The lines on the floor started to blur and Draco's eyes burned as he stared down at them.
Long and straight, just like the bars of the cage he had trapped her in when he got her back. It felt like torture to watch her cry because he wouldn't let her go, but not as bad as the anguish of not seeing her at all.
What choice did he have? What choice was there when the only time his lungs worked was when he was breathing in her vanilla and cinnamon scent? The more she pushed him away, the harder he held on. Draco knew what was waiting for her outside his walls.
And he knew what it was like inside them without her too.
Empty. Cold. Dark.
Just like the cracks on the floor.
Just like his whole world.
Until her. Granger. Hermione.
Draco stared down at the dark spaces between the worn floorboards, so much like the ones he had built in his mind to keep her down, keep her safe, until he got her back.
That part of him hadn't changed at least, that was still what he wanted; Granger safe and happy. With him. Only him.
She was happy here, with her so-called friends. Granger had been happy with him too, before they broke in and fucked everything up.
But Granger hadn't run from him. Even after what he had done to her, even after she knew what he was, who he was….
He had done terrible things for her. Tortured, maimed, imprisoned, and killed for her.
And he'd do it again if it meant keeping Granger at his side.
The black lines seemed to grow larger, rushing up towards him and Draco closed his eyes.
He had crossed every line he ever had for Granger. What was one more?
Draco forced his boots on.
He braced himself in the doorway, gripping the frame tightly before walking stiffly through it. The hall was easy compared to the stairs. Each step down made him grit his teeth, his legs felt heavy after laying in bed for days. As he neared the bottom, Draco did his best to straighten up, easing his features into a mildly disinterested expression as if coming downstairs wasn't making him want to puke out his guts.
The voices stopped when they saw his black boots on the stairs and Draco ducked his head as the shitty kitchen came into view. Potter and Weasley were sitting at the table along with the scarred Weasley, Frenchie, and Looney Lovegood.
He looked down at the floor and took a step across one of the black lines.
Salazar help him for what he was about to do.
His eyes moved across the kitchen, finding her on their own.
Granger turned around, her doe eyes going big at the shock of seeing him here.
Everyone was staring at him and Draco cooled his face so they knew he didn't care about any of them. He kept his focus on Granger; the whole reason he was doing this.
She was frozen in place, the kettle steaming as she held it. She wasn't going anywhere and he supposed that made his choice not really a choice at all.
"You said I could help, if I wanted," Draco said drolly, trying to make it sound more like a comment than a statement. He could feel eyes on him, pressing against the shattered white walls, but Draco kept his solely on hers. So wary, but at the same time, a hint of hope in them.
He had said everything, he had said anything. And it was time Draco did just that. Even if it wasn't exactly the way she had probably envisioned, but nothing about this situation was the way Draco had thought it would turn out either. The world had been going to hell for a while and he had never given a shit about it before.
Still didn't. Except for the small fact that Granger just happened to live in it now.
He looked around the room at the nervous faces and glaring eyes, then back to Granger. His world. His only.
He'd prefer it if everyone else spontaneously combusted and set the rest of the planet on fire in the panicked attempts to put themselves out. The thought was almost enough to make him smile, but Draco only let a small smirk grace his face instead.
He watched Granger's pink lips begin to turn up, smiling for him.
Hope shone in her eyes and Draco's heart thudded underneath his scarred chest as he looked back at her. Just like it should be; him and her. No one else.
And this was the first step to that.
He took a deep breath. "I've decided to save the world."
.
"We need to talk about Malfoy."
Hermione knew this was coming, but it didn't make the awkward churning inside her any easier. She had asked Harry for time to talk to Draco, try and get him to see that helping the Order was the right choice and… he had. Draco had walked down the stairs this morning, which was a miracle itself, and then said the words she had only dreamed about.
So why did she feel so nervous about this?
Maybe because Harry, Ron, and Bill were all looking at her and no one had said anything after Harry's statement.
"I think that's a good idea," Hermione offered, trying to ease the tension. She was walking a fine line and if she tripped, she wasn't sure which way she would fall.
"Finally, you sound like yourself again." Ron's bright blue eyes were locked on her.
Bill leaned forward, his long legs taking up a surprising amount of room in the small sitting room they were crammed in. "You know him best, Hermione. Can we believe him?"
She looked around at each of them, trying to remember that they were all on the same side now. "Draco might be a little rough around the edges," Goodness, she really was sugarcoating this wasn't she? "But he will work with us."
"With you, you mean," Ron cut in and Hermione shifted a little, not wanting to admit he was right, but not able to exactly contradict him.
"Well I am one of you, aren't I?"
Ron had the good sense to blush a little at that.
Harry nodded. "Of course you are, Hermione," he said, smoothing the bumpy road back to friendship. Hopefully.
She knew she'd have to talk to Ron one on one and that conversation would really be the defining factor as to whether they could come back from this or not.
But if she was asking them to work with Draco, the least she could do was make the effort to work with Ron herself. Even if she was still slightly furious with him over the way he had left.
And the fact that he had.
"What does the Order say?" Hermione asked Bill, trying to bring the conversation back to its original purpose.
Bill gave her a wry smile, the scar on his face pulling strangely at the side of his mouth and making him look more grim. "They are playing it safe. Snape was a Death Eater and part of the Order… look how that turned out."
Hermione glanced at Harry and saw his brows were casting dark shadows over his eyes. He had more reason than most to hate Snape. But Snape wouldn't have been able to kill Dumbledore if it wasn't for Draco.
She wondered how much Harry blamed him for it and if that was going to be another obstacle they had to overcome.
"Draco's different though," she went on. "He only took the mark to help his family. He never really wanted to be a Death Eater. And look, just a few days away from them and he is willing to change sides and help us."
"And he gets to stay with you," Ron added.
Hermione sighed. "Ronald, this is not the time. We are talking about Draco, not me."
"But you're together, aren't you?"
Hermione just looked at him for a moment. "Yes. And do you think—do any of you think—that I would be with someone if I thought he was still a Death Eater in his heart? Tell me now, because if you do, then I think we need to have an entirely different conversation. One where we decide if I am helping you, not Draco."
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, the creature inside her extended its claws.
Ron's shoulders slumped and the fight seemed to fade in him a little. She hated that she had to snap and boss them around for them to listen, but it worked.
It always had.
Harry and Ron had been her friends for years. They had all seen each other at their worst and their best. Harry had forgiven Ron for not supporting him when his name came out of the goblet of fire and they had moved past Harry's outbursts in fifth year. And if Harry and Ron had worked past their differences and all the problems they had in the tent, then certainly she and Ron could move forward as well.
Probably.
Most likely.
Maybe.
She just didn't want to leave things in a bad place and then something happen to one of them. Hermione had spent enough time not saying how she felt. How much sooner might she have been able to be with Draco if she would have just calmed down and spoken rationally to him?
Although it had been a little hard to be level headed when he chained her in a cage. Draco was the only person she had ever met who was more bossy than she was. Although the thought of his stern, deep voice in her ear was enough to send a small shiver down her spine.
"No one thinks that," Harry assured her, throwing a look at Ron before turning back to her. "You're the smartest person I know. If you say you trust him then…" Harry took a deep breath. "Then I trust you."
Relief flooded through her. She hadn't been nervous about Harry, but his support still meant a lot to her. Their friendship worked because there were three of them, each one balancing the other two out in some way. Having Harry on her side made Hermione feel more stable and confident, like she was back… back home.
Hermione smiled at him, warm and friendly. Harry smiled back. She looked to Bill who nodded in support and then to Ron. He dipped his chin, but lifted his eyes to meet hers. The freckles on his nose moved for a moment as he scrunched his face then released it.
"So what do you think we should do with him?"
They discussed what information they would ask him about first and Hermione made it very clear that she needed to be there when they questioned him. She knew Draco would give them a hard time to put it lightly and having her beside him would at least ease the tension.
She asked for a couple more days, just while he healed up a bit more and got used to the idea of being on this side of the war.
"I don't want him armed while he's in my house," Bill said as the conversation moved on. "I don't feel comfortable with it. We will see after he gives up some information, but for now I don't even want him casting simple cleaning charms."
Hermione didn't bother to tell them she didn't think Draco had any intention of cleaning up after himself. And she still had his wand tucked in her pocket. She had to admit, Bill had a point. Draco was unpredictable at times and never more dangerous than when he felt trapped or hurt.
"I have his wand. Anyway, he needs to heal more before he starts trying to use it. He…" She didn't want to tell them about what he had done to himself, what he might do if he started spiraling again like he had after Theo. "I don't think he will mind as long as I keep it."
"Make sure that you do," Bill warned. "He's already yelled at and insulted my wife. I won't have him doing anything else to upset her."
"I'm pretty sure Fleur can hold her own," Ron laughed a little and the sound somehow made the atmosphere in the sitting room feel lighter. "I saw her take down that Death Eater when we were moving Harry last summer. I don't think you have anything to worry about when it comes to her."
Harry grinned and Bill even cracked a bit of a smile and his scar didn't look so deep when the rest of his face lit up.
"In fact, Hermione, give it back to him. I'd love to see Fleur knock Malfoy on his ass. We can call it the 'Battle of the Blondes'."
Hermione just rolled her eyes, but her chest felt lighter, less like there was a hippogriff sitting on it as they started to laugh and joke.
"Okay okay, but seriously, what are we going to do with him? Day to day? He might be willing to give information, but Kingsley and Remus are right," Harry said with a glance to Bill. "We have to tread carefully."
This is what she was waiting for, even looking forward to. Hermione felt almost like she had in school when she knew the exact answer to a professor's question. "We let him do what we do. Train with us, talk with us. Draco doesn't know anything about the Order other than what he's been told by people like himself. He doesn't think we can win. I want to show him we can."
"You think he'd actually fight alongside us?" Bill asked, raising his eyebrows. "Against Death Eaters?"
Hermione raised her chin. "Before Harry and Ron rescued us, Draco's Father gave him a concussion and Bellatrix hit him with half a dozen crucios." She looked around the room again, curious expressions on each of their faces. "I can't imagine he doesn't want a little payback."
Harry shrugged as if accepting this as a reasonable motivation. "I've never been happier about Lucius Malfoy's shitty parenting."
Hermione gave a shaky sigh and looked to Ron and Bill.
Bill pulled his long hair behind his head, tying it back. "I'll send a message to Kingsley and let him know. See if he has anything in particular we need to ask about too." He stood up and turned to Harry. "I can talk to Griphook as well, see if he is willing to speak with you."
"Yeah," Harry said, standing up as well. "Thanks, Bill. That would be great."
They made their way out of the room, leaving Hermione and Ron alone. She looked nervously over at him and bit her lip.
"Ron?" He had told her in the tent that he wanted to find Draco and make him pay. Hermione knew it wasn't just because of her, but because of the years of ridicule and rude remarks. The fact that from their first day at Hogwarts until their last, Draco had made a habit, a game, out of making Ron as miserable as possible.
She knew it because Draco had done it to her as well. Until she started sleeping with him.
Ron leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I didn't spend all that time figuring out a way to rescue you just so you could run off with him again."
"I didn't run off."
"I know," he said softly, staring at her hands instead of looking her in the eye. "Believe me, I know, Hermione. I was the one who left. If I hadn't, I could have stopped him. I would have." Ron's blue eyes were as clear as the sky when he finally brought them up to meet hers. "I would have done a lot of things differently."
She knew exactly what he was saying. Or at least, thought she did; she wanted their relationship back the way it used to be too. Before he found out about Draco, before she saw him kiss Lavender. Maybe even before they started to have a few feelings bloom for one another. And if Ron wanted their friendship back, Hermione wasn't going to deny it to him. If she could forgive Draco for everything he had done, she could work on forgiving Ron too.
"So would I," Hermione admitted, then added, "and so would Draco. If you're going to give me a chance, you need to give him one as well."
"A chance to stab us all in the back."
"A chance to make things right. And while we are on that subject," Hermione felt her old pride spark up in her again. "If you want me to be your friend then you need to apologize to me as well."
Ron stared at her for a few very long seconds where Hermione didn't even blink. She meant it. Ron had hurt her by leaving, but even more by the things he said before it. If they really were going to move past this, there were things she needed to hear first. Ron sighed.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. For what I said about you. I was just… angry. Shit, I can't even think about him without—" The flush under his skin grew, blood climbing up from his neck to the tops of his ears. "But I shouldn't have taken it out on you. And I shouldn't have left like that."
Hermione was touched. Normally Ron said the bare minimum to get back in her good graces, but it seemed he had grown up a bit in their months apart. Hermione felt like she had as well. "I'm sorry too. I wish I hadn't hidden what I was doing with Draco from you."
"I wish you would have hidden it a bit better." Ron said softly. "Or at least hidden under the covers."
Hermione felt heat rush over her face and into her hair. Her stomach did an awkward flip inside her, falling flat. She had almost forgotten that he had… seen.
"I…" she stopped talking when it came out as a squeak.
"I thought…" Ron's brows furrowed together. "I didn't think you'd actually… be with him. Not after everything he did."
Hermione picked at her hands a little in her lap. "I wasn't," she answered honestly. "Not until…" Hermione glanced up for just a moment and found Ron's sky blue eyes trained on her. "The day before you came actually. The whole time I was there, we weren't… we didn't…"
She stopped talking again and folded her hands before she accidentally made them bleed. She didn't think it was a good idea to tell him that she had celebrated his and Harry's victory in Knockturn alley with Draco's head between her legs.
Ron looked a little sad. "A day too late," he muttered and stared at her hands in her lap. Hermione fought to keep them still. "I tried to come back. After I left, but I couldn't find you."
Hermione looked up at him. "How did you find Harry?"
Ron gave her a sad smile. "The deluminator that Dumbledore left me. It led me back, not to Harry, but to—" His jaws snapped shut and she watched him think for a moment. "I was a day late coming back and a day late finding you again. Too bad I didn't have another swallow of felix felicis this time around."
Hermione didn't know what to say and Ron seemed to be half talking to himself. He blew out a low breath and shook his head. His hair was longer and falling heavily over his forehead. He had obviously agonized over this for a while now, but Hermione was having a hard time telling if he had landed on regret or resentment.
"Thanks for… trying." As much as she knew they needed to talk about things, it didn't make actually doing it any easier.
"I am, Hermione," Ron said seriously. "I am trying really hard to figure out a way to be your friend again. I just…" He glanced up and Hermione knew he was thinking about who was sitting in a room two floors above them right now. "It's not like before. We used to fight, but we were still… I don't know. Just… take it easy on me, okay?"
If they weren't in the middle of a war she might demand more of him. More explanation, more understanding, more… friendship. But they could die tomorrow, or the next day. She didn't want to spend what may be their last days in tense silence.
Hermione had wasted enough time being mad at Draco already, she didn't want to make the same mistake with Ron.
And if they made it through this, if they survived, then they could figure out what sort of friendship they could salvage. Right now, Hermione just wanted to have her friend again. Even if it was at arm's length.
"Okay. I can do that." Hermione stood up and pulled at the hem of her shirt, a habit from wearing short dresses that she hadn't entirely been able to shake.
Ron quickly followed her to his feet. "I missed you, Hermione," he said, the hard look in his eye gone and a bit of the boy she knew was there instead.
"Me too," she replied little and saw him relax a little. "But I'm back now and… I don't think I properly told you thank you for saving me."
Ron's smile widened. "No, you didn't. But you don't have to," he added. "Pulling you away from dark wizards is sort of what I do, in between destroying horcruxes that is."
She felt a strange inkling forming in the back of her mind, but quickly decided to ignore it. They had just mended their shaky friendship, she wasn't going to start second guessing him now. Instead, Hermione smiled back at him. "It's a good thing Draco's not a dark wizard anymore then."
She turned and headed towards the kitchen. Ron stayed there, looking like he wanted to say more. "Come on, Ronald," Hermione beckoned. "You can make me lunch so I don't have to eat a bread sandwich again."
She hoped her quip didn't set him off. She just wanted to make things clear to him, that was all.
Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Might not be as good as whatever they would cook you up in the Malfoy kitchens, but I'll see what I can do."
Hermione waited for him at the door so they could walk together. "I actually missed your cooking."
"Did you?" he asked, surprised.
She nodded. "All the food there was made by elves and you know how I feel about that."
Ron just laughed, the noise bouncing off the walls of the hall and filling Hermione with a happy lightness. She had her friends back. She had Draco with her. After so long of everything going wrong, finally things seemed to be looking up. Right now, Hermione felt like she could face down Voldemort himself and end the war.
But maybe after lunch.
.
Draco stretched and swore. He was sore. He knew the Order was going to torture him, he just had no idea it would be by giving him the world's worst mattress. Even the weeks he spent sleeping on the chaise had been better than this. He normally came downstairs for breakfast after everyone else was already busy with things for the day in an attempt to spend the least amount of time as possible with them. Some stupid little shells hanging on strings clattered next to his head as he made his way in and Draco groaned.
This place was hell.
Granger had woken up before dawn and started pulling his arms off of her. There was nowhere else she needed to be more than she needed to be in bed with him, so he had only held on tighter, snaking his hand in between her legs to cup her warmth.
"Draco!" she whispered harshly.
He merely grinned and tucked his face into her neck, breathing in her sweet vanilla cinnamon scent.
"Let go," she said a bit more forcefully and pulled at his arm again.
"No, I don't think I will," Draco murmured and pressed his fingers in, feeling the soft give of her under the thin knickers.
"There is much too much to do today and I can't spend an hour letting you… rut on top of me."
Draco grinned into Granger's hair and tightened his hold. "How about from behind then? Hmm?" He ground his dick into her ass and relished the small gasp that he got in return. He loved how her body went still in response to his. She was so perfect, so pure.
He couldn't get enough of her.
"Draco…" she said regretfully.
He knew it was a losing battle; she took her work seriously, she always had. Granger put just as much concentration and focus into helping the Order that she had any Ancient Runes essay she'd ever written. It was quite annoying actually, that he had her at his disposal for so long, but not able to touch her and now that he could she was always rushing off to do something without him.
Still he couldn't help, but push a little. Granger gave a soft moan.
"I can take less than an hour," he breathed out, "or more." Draco pressed the heel of his hand into her making Granger squirm as she tried to fight the pressure.
"I can't. We're talking to Griphook this morning and we need to go over—Ah!"
Draco tightened his arms around her, his left twinging with pain. "You spend too much time with them."
"They're," she wriggled against him again. Not very hard though. "—my best friends and I owe them—"
"And what am I?" he purred. His heart skipped a beat waiting for her response.
He wanted to hear it, from her lips, what they were. What she thought they were. Because she had such beautiful thoughts and maybe he'd be less nervous, if she she said it first.
Granger stilled again, then said, "You're making me late." She threw off his arm and Draco rolled onto his back as she climbed out of the bed, hitting the ground running. Granger already had one leg of her jeans on before he even finished pulling his hand over his face.
He tried to fall back asleep, but soon after the rest of the house started waking up and so Draco hauled himself up and down the stairs, hoping there was still some food left from breakfast. He had trouble getting dressed on his own, but ever since Granger had produced a black sweatshirt from… somewhere, he had adopted it as his daily wear. Seriously, what was going on with everyone's obsession with wearing as many colors as possible?
Frenchie was taking off her apron as he walked in. Of course, it was bright and looked like someone had puked up a garden full of flowers on it.
"There is toast et café." She nodded at the table. The slices of bread were insultingly small and burned black.
Draco adjusted his sling and opened up a few cabinets, looking for a cup. He stopped upon seeing a few bottles of wine on the top shelf.
He hated wine.
But it was alcohol.
Frenchie slammed the cabinet in his face, glaring, and sat down a chipped mug hard on the counter.
Draco sneered and swiped it up. The coffee was on the stove and he fumbled, trying to pour it with one hand. He wished that elf wouldn't have died because he could really use a servant right about now.
" 'Ou are spilling it everywhere!"
"Well it's a little hard!" Draco snapped back.
Frenchie started to push him out of the way and Draco's elbow knocked into the mug. It fell, spreading little white shards and inky black liquid across the floor.
"What 'ave 'you done?!"
"It's not my fault!"
Frenchie shoved a rag into his hand and mumbled in French as she pulled the coffee away from him, waving her wand to extinguish the flame on the stove.
Draco glared at her; at her long silvery hair, her proudly raised chin, her wand that she waved so easily. He had none of those things. He had nothing. Nothing, except… Granger. And lately she was too busy with other people to spare any time for him.
Still, Frenchie would tell her about this and she would get upset if he threw the rag at Frenchie's stupid blonde head and Draco bent down and tried to scoop up the shards of mug and mop up the spilled coffee.
It was humiliating.
Frenchie walked into the hall, a closet door creaked as she got something from it. Draco looked over his shoulder at the cabinet that had held the bottles of wine.
He could swipe one, hurry outside and down it before she even knew it was missing. It would make all of this a little easier to swallow if he had some alcohol in his blood. And if he was caught, at least Granger would spend some time with him to yell at him for drinking.
"Shit!" Draco looked down at his hand. One of the white shards had cut into his palm. "Fuck this."
He stood up and the back door opened.
"Hello? I brought some—" Draco froze, bleeding hand forgotten as he stared into a face he knew well. Or at least, parts of it.
She straightened her neck, tensing and her expression hardened into one he had seen on her sister a week ago. The basket on her arm dropped to the floor as Andromeda Tonks' wand raised in an all too familiar movement.
Draco backed into the counter. He was defenseless, wounded, and bleeding.
If he didn't think he was about to die, he might laugh at the irony.
He had fled his aunt torturing him, just to find another.
"I was hoping I'd run into you again." Andromeda's face twisted into a smirk.
Draco's stomach dropped. It was his. That was his smirk. And he knew exactly what it meant.
He hit the floor as the stream of light came at him. Something crashed and Draco tried to crawl forward, wincing as he placed weight on his wounded arm.
He could see the bottom on the stairs in front of him, but right before he lunged another jet of light hit the floor right in front of him.
"Shit!" Draco threw himself back.
"What iz going—"
Thank fuck for Frenchie.
"Andromeda!"
"What is he doing here?!"
"He is—"
Draco could see Andromeda's legs moving from where he was crouched and quickly backed under the table. Shit shit shit. He needed to get out of here. Right now.
"Where are you, you little shit?"
Draco ran into one of the chairs, stopping his retreat.
Shit.
Fuck.
Shit.
Frenchie was trying to explain to Andromeda and Draco twisted around, crawling and limping out of the side of the table, hoping to get outside where at least he had a chance to outrun Andromeda. But… shit. Granger was still upstairs.
Suppressing a growl, Draco clambered out and pulled on the table with his good arm to stand up again.
Andromeda looked furious and Draco felt a shot of something run down his spine. He could practically see his Mother scolding him for tracking mud in the house. Except… the last time it had been blood, not mud. And this was Andromeda, not his Mother.
" 'E is under ze Ordre's protection!" Frenchie explained.
"WHAT?!"
"He est… traître."
Draco flinched and Andromeda's eyes hardened. Wow. That was strange, hearing it out loud.
Traitor.
His body felt like stone.
Andromeda stared at him, not daring to believe. Thundering steps sounded from the stairs and Granger, Potter, and Weasley all spilled out into the wrecked kitchen.
Granger looked around, her big innocent eyes jumping from the broken cabinets, to Andromeda, Fleur, and finally to him.
"He tortured us!" Andromeda shouted, trying to get back at him while Frenchie half heartedly held her back.
"Blimey, is that Tonks' Mum?" Weaselbee asked, jaw hanging open and sounding even more stupid than he looked.
Frenchie was glaring at Draco who straightened his sling and rolled his shoulder, trying to act like he didn't care that Andromeda had just told everyone—
Fuck.
Granger was looking at him like… Shit. He hadn't told her about that. He hadn't told her a lot of things.
Draco hung his head, unable to meet her eyes any longer.
Andromeda broke away from Frenchie and scooted around Potter who tried to grab her. Wand raised in fury, she started towards Draco again.
"Where is my husband? Where is Ted?!"
Draco's stomach dropped inside him. He hadn't given the body much thought since he buried it. Or maybe he just hadn't wanted to think about it.
Andromeda's wand poked into the underside of his neck. It shook. So did her voice. "Tell me where he is or I'll make what you did to me look like a child's temper tantrum."
Draco felt everyone watching him. Judging him. He wasn't exactly proud of what he had done to Andromeda and her husband months ago and it hadn't even helped him get any closer to Granger. Now, it might end up driving her away.
Fuck this place. He needed to get Granger and get out. The longer they stayed here, the more likely she was to try and leave him.
But there was no getting out of this. Even if he somehow was able to disarm Andromeda by force with one arm in a sling and a gut that felt like he had been stepped on by a troll, he still had Frenchie, Weaselbee, and Saint Potter to contend with.
Not to mention Granger. The fact that he couldn't immediately count her as on his side grated on him. He didn't like it. He didn't like feeling helpless and he didn't like that she was standing over there with her fucking friends on either side of her like guard dogs.
He should have let the wolves tear Weasley apart in the woods that day. Stunned Potter and presented him to the Dark Lord. All of this could be over if he—
Andromeda dug her wand in deeper, pressing on the vein in his throat. "I am not a patient woman."
Draco glowered down at her. Wanting to hurt something. "Yeah, I know where he is." He felt the tip of the wand heat as she held back whatever curse she was planning on dealing him. He'd know soon enough. He'd probably be bedridden again after she was done with him, but at least that would mean Granger would nurse him back to health.
Draco paused. He remembered how terrifying it had been, not knowing where Granger was or if she was okay and he saw that same worry and fear in Andromeda's eyes.
His voice was soft as spoke. "He's in an unmarked grave right outside of Malfoy property."
"NO!" Andromeda shouted, grabbing onto the collar of his sweatshir. "You're lying."
Draco tensed, knowing full well what she was capable of. Especially after what he had done to her. If the tables were turned, he knew what he'd do to someone who told him they had buried Granger. Fuck, he didn't even want to think about that.
"I'm telling you the truth." Andromeda's wand sparked and Draco tried to pull his head back, but she held onto the neck of his sweatshirt tight, nails ripping through the fabric. He was dangerously close to having his head blown off. "I—I didn't kill him."
Andromeda's eyes flashed dangerously and she pressed her wand further into his neck. "Did your Father?"
Even wandless Lucius was dangerous, Draco had a constant headache to remind him of that, but Lucius liked trophies and Ted had been in one piece.
Draco shook his head. "I don't know who or… how. I… I just buried him."
"Where." Andromeda's soft and slithering tone was just as dangerous as his shouting had been when he asked her the same question.
"Just… under a tree. I wanted…" Draco's eyes flitted from Andromeda to the floor, unable to stay in one place long. He used to stand under that tree. When he was a child and got mad or scared, he had run from the Manor, across the grounds, muddying his shoes, but always stopped at that tree. Just to see what it was like outside his family's property and protection.
Everytime Draco had turned around and gone back home. And after burying Ted, that's exactly what he had done. He went back, because that's where Granger was.
Andromeda searched his face, landing on his cropped hair and the faint bruise still visible underneath it. She wanted answers, but just like the body, Draco has buried them deep inside.
He wasn't sure why it was so hard to talk about this. Maybe because everytime he looked at her, he saw his Mother, his Aunt, himself. But also… what he might be one day. After the Dark Lord killed Potter, who would stop him from going after Granger? Or anyone else for that matter? Would he be standing in front of someone someday, trying to find out what happened to her?
He felt sick. Over that, over her, over the fact that the person in front of him, who he had tortured and threatened, was just as much blood to him as the woman who had tortured him and Granger.
Fuck, all of this was so messed up.
"I… I'm sorry."
"I don't want your apology!" Andromeda snarled, her breathing quickening. "I want my husband. I want Ted."
She was shaking, shaking so hard that Draco thought she might fall over. Without thinking, without feeling, he just reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. Andromeda broke, sucking in breath as terrible and angry tears poured over her face. She… leaned into him, her wand still digging into his throat as she stood there, half in his embrace and cried.
He slid his hand to the back of her shoulder, awkwardly letting it sit as lightly as he could while she clung to him, wrinkling and clinging on the neck of the sweatshirt until it pulled his head a little lower. Her wand dug in deep and Draco swallowed hard, feeling the sharp point press into his pulse. She could end it, she could hurt him.
And she wasn't.
Because of Ted. Because he showed mercy, the small amount it had taken to bury a body, but it was saving his life right now.
Fleur—Frenchie—was gathering up some vials that had spilled from the basket Andromeda dropped. Murtlap essence. She had brought more murtlap essence because he had been using all the supplies.
Draco's fingers curled, feeling strange as he… comforted her. Or stood there. He wasn't sure what he was doing other than being something she was holding onto so she didn't collapse.
He met Fleur's eyes over the top of Andromeda's head. She was looking at him like… well, he wasn't really sure. He didn't know how he felt about it either.
Draco cleared his throat. "Do you… want to sit down?"
He guided her into the only chair that wasn't turned over as she gulped down air. As soon as Draco straightened up and Andromeda let go of his collar, Frenchie tore over, dropping the vials onto the table and knelt beside Andromeda, speaking softly to her as she covered her face and cried into her hands.
Draco stepped off to the side, not sure if he should stay here or leave or… what. He had never done this before. He didn't like it; this weird pulling in his chest. The cold creeping up from deep inside. The battling thoughts. Should he have done something different? Something more?
He had told them to get out. He had told them to leave. He had… no fucking right to be here. To witness this. He felt like he was intruding. He wasn't one of them, he never would be. He'd always have this mark and knew what it meant for him.
Draco wanted to leave. To get out. To get as far away from this as he could. Then Granger was at his side, touching his arm gently and tilting her head to the stairs as she took his hand and guided him.
He followed, feeling Potter and Weasley staring holes in his back until they crested the landing.
Granger pulled him into their room. And of course, her lackeys followed.
He was about to snap at them to get out when Granger turned, tawney curls fanning out and falling gracefully around her face. "Did you really do that?"
He schooled his face into impassivity, not wanting to give anything away. He had done terrible things to get to her. He didn't want to tell her, but he would do them all again, if he had to. "I was looking for you."
Granger's eyes searched his and Draco saw something simmering deep in them. "No, I meant did you really bury Ted Tonks?"
Oh. That's what she cared about. Of course she would be asking about the Muggleborn. Draco gave a single nod, doing his best to ignore Weasley cracking his knuckles behind him.
"Oh Draco!" Granger flung her arms around his neck and Draco ignored the pain in his arm as she bumped into it. The corner of his mouth twitched. The feel of her tits pressing against him made him not care about anything else at the moment.
"You never said you attacked Order members," Potter said darkly.
Granger pulled back, her hands sliding along Draco's arms. Still touching him though. Draco threw Potter a smirk. "You didn't ask."
"The Ted and Andromeda Tonks aren't actually part of the Order," Granger corrected and Draco felt a surge of pride. She was sticking up for him. Sort of.
"They're as good as," Weasley barked, neck turning red under his completely insane amount of freckles. Really, he should get that checked out. "Tonks is part of the Order and that's her family!"
Draco lazily rolled his eyes. Of course the Weasel would be creepily attached to the idea of family; his all probably slept in the same bed.
"Mine too," Draco added, just to make them uncomfortable. Because why not? Just because he was here didn't mean he liked either one of them.
Potter blinked in surprise and Granger let out a small, "Oh!" Weasley, however, just glared as if words were too hard for him at the moment.
Potter stepped forward. "What else did you do, while you were playing Death Eater?"
Draco straightened up and Granger's hands slid off of him. "I wasn't fucking playing."
"No?" He took another step forward and Draco felt his mark twinge on his arm. The last time he had looked this long at Potter, he had seen a glimpse of Lord Voldemort. Draco looked away, scoffing and trying to pretend he wasn't still unsettled by that. "Did you kill people?"
Draco swung his head back and snarled. Granger placed her hand on his arm again.
"Harry, now is not the time—"
"Fine," Potter snapped and Granger jumped a little beside Draco. "But he's going to have to talk soon. When Bill gets back tomorrow evening, we are all going to sit down and Draco here is going to tell us everything he knows."
.
Draco leaned against the side of a broom shed and watched as Granger, Potter, and Weasley discussed how shitty they all were at dueling. He had tried to hide in their room, but Granger pulled him out, fussing that he needed fresh air and sunshine. What he needed was to hold her, bury himself inside her, and forget everything that wasn't her moaning his name.
Instead, he was standing on the side of a field that stretched back into some trees and pretending he didn't care that this might all blow up in his face tomorrow. He didn't think it was a coincidence that the Weasel had suggested physical practice today. Every now and then he glanced at Draco, who glowered back at the three of them.
Potter tried to hand Granger's wand back to her. Interesting. Why had he been using Granger's all this time? Where was his?
"It's okay, Harry. I need to get used to…"
Shit. She pulled out Bellatrix's wand. Draco had seen that wand do unspeakable things. The curved wood looked wrong in Granger's small hand.
Her knuckles whitened as she gripped it.
"Granger." Draco pushed himself off the wall, shifted his arm in the makeshift sling and walked over to them. The feeling had returned to his arm. All of it. Frenchie had to re-break it in order to set it correctly and Draco decided that she was trying to make him look as terrible as possible so she could be the prettiest one in the house.
Stupid. Why bother when Granger was here?
The sun caught her curls and lit them up like warm caramel.
"Use mine."
Granger blushed a little. "It's okay."
He positioned himself just slightly in front of her, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look at him and cut her off from her friends, if only for a moment.
It was long enough for him to lower his voice and say, "Mine works just fine for you, kitten." He tried to lift her spirits by winking at her. "He likes you."
Granger's blush increased and Draco smirked at the sight of it.
She tucked Bellatrix's wand in her back pocket and pulled out his. They didn't let him touch wands yet.
Smart.
He hadn't let Granger have one once while she was with him. And that was the exact reason why she needed to train and practice.
He trailed his fingers down the dark wood of his wand to the back of her hand. Warm and soft. He wanted her to wrap his hand around his cock and beat him off into her mouth. From the spark in her eyes she just might have been thinking about the same thing.
"Get used to wielding again and then we will have a look at the other one, yeah?"
She nodded and Draco twisted his lips in a crooked smile. She seemed a little more relaxed. Good. He couldn't do much, yet, but at least he could make her feel a little better. Plus, he was looking forward to watching Granger use his wand and knock Potty and the Weasel on their asses.
"We're wasting daylight here," Weasley snapped. "We can't keep these protective enchantments up forever."
"Right," Granger cringed. "You're right, Ron. I'm sorry. Harry, where do you want me?"
Something rose up in Draco, hissing and spitting, venom dripping from its fangs.
"Over there." Potter pointed with his wand and Granger gave Draco a small smile before walking over to the far side of the field.
"Stay out of the way," Weasley muttered as he shoved his shoulder into Draco's, causing a ring of pain to shoot down his arm.
Draco clenched his jaw and sucked in a breath through his nose. "Easy," he said, sounding more bored than Professor Binns could dream of. "Since you're not even in mine."
Weasley's face splotched with red and Draco thought about all the ways he could spill that blood as he headed back to his spot in the shade by the broom shed.
"Everyone ready?" Potter called from his position overlooking Granger and Weasley.
"Ready!" Weasley shouted much louder than needed. Probably used to that, having to fight for his Mother's love and attention all his life. He was standing a few yards away from Draco and he wondered if he was going to have to listen to Weasley's bellowing all afternoon.
"Yes!" Draco heard Granger's voice and his eyes found her quickly. She had tied her hair back, binding up all those messy curls. A single one came loose, tickling the side of her neck. Draco watched it move slightly. He'd leave a love bite right there, later tonight.
Granger fell into a defensive stance and rolled her wrist, loosening it up. He would work that out for her too.
"Start off easy you two," Potter said. "Just throw a few jinxes back and forth and warm up."
Draco snorted.
Weasley's turned on him, the angry expression making him even uglier than he normally was. "Have a problem?"
"Yeah," Draco said loud enough that he knew Granger would be able to hear him. "No one is going to be throwing jinxes out there. You're wasting your time."
"It's a warm up exercise."
Draco pretended not to be interested. "But curses are hot."
Weasley wrinkled his nose. "You would think that, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah." Draco stood up, pulling himself to his full height. "I would. Want to see?"
Weasley had gotten the best of him last year in the Room of Requirement, but that had only been because the fucker had taken felix. It wouldn't happen again.
It wouldn't, because Weasley was laughing at him. "Sure. Where's your wand? Oh that's right, she doesn't trust you with it."
Draco's blood pulsed with a cold anger. He wanted to hurt Weasley. Bad. But even without a wand, Draco wasn't completely defenseless. He smirked and said in a low voice, "It looks good in her hands."
It was almost impossible to distinguish where Weasley's hair started and his skin stopped because they were all about the same color now. Draco wondered how far he could push Weaselbee before he actually exploded.
It would be fun to find out. Maybe training wouldn't be as boring as he thought.
"Hermione!" Potter barked. "You need to adjust your right foot. Bend your knee, don't lock it."
She slid her right leg back up into position. "Like this?"
Before Potter could open his stupid mouth, Draco walked forward with long purposeful strides. "I'll show you, Sweetheart."
He crossed the field, feeling Weasley's eyes burning holes into his back the whole way. Draco couldn't help but smirk as he walked up to Granger.
"Here," he said softly as he positioned himself behind her, sliding his good hand along her right arm. Draco felt Granger give a small squirm as he laced his fingers around her wrist and pulled her back against him. He grabbed a curl hanging from her ponytail between his thumb and index finger of his arm in the sling and pulled it a little until her chin lifted and her neck straightened.
"He's taller than you so you need to adjust your aim." Draco lifted her wrist a little, bending it so that his wand pointed directly at Weasley's chest. He could feel her pulse quicken under his fingers. His own blood rushed in a very downward direction.
"Now," he lowered his mouth to her ear, "how does that feel?"
"Good," she breathed out.
Draco pulled on the curl again. "Head up, Granger. Stay focused."
"I am."
He pulled his finger across her inner wrist and felt the thumping there. "Are you?"
Granger took a deep breath. "Yes."
"Good girl," he purred.
He felt Granger shudder as she breathed out and Draco slid his hand back down her arm and to her waist, holding her hip and tilting her just ever so slightly forward.
She went completely still in his grasp and then a red stream of light erupted from her wand, hot and fast as it raced across the field to Weasley.
He met it with a small shield charm. Interesting—throwing one only big enough to block Granger's hex so he could return fire faster. Reckless, but not a bad strategy.
Good to know.
Granger didn't do the same thing. Instead she expanded her shield, making it large enough to cover his height along with hers.
Sweet little thing.
But it made her too slow to block the second stream of light coming at her.
Draco snaked his arm around her middle and picked her up, pulling her to the side so the spell soared harmlessly past them.
Draco glared at Weasley. He wasn't dumb. That last spell had been off center.
It was meant for him, not Granger.
"Hey!"
A ghostly white stag cantered across the field, tossing its antlers and fading into mist as Granger and Weasley lowered their wands.
Had Scarhead noticed too?
"You can't do that!" Potter was marching over to them. Granger untangled herself from him. "You can't be out here if you are going to interfere, Malfoy."
No, of course not. Potter just wanted an excuse to pretend like he was important.
Granger turned towards him. "Harry is right, Draco. I need to get used to this again. You can't just swoop in and save me."
He raised one brow. "Not going to let you get hurt either, pet."
She pushed her hand into his chest and shoved him back a step. What?
"You'll get me hurt if you don't let me practice!"
"I was trying to help."
"I'll do what you said," she spoke softly and her hand returned to his chest, softer this time. "But you've got to let me do it on my own."
He didn't like it. He wouldn't do it.
Except she had asked him.
"Fine," he grumbled, still not liking the idea of Granger preparing for combat. He knew Granger could hold her own, he just liked holding her too. "But if you're going to train, you should do it properly. You need to practice more than jinxes and minor curses. If you use those in the field, you're going to make yourself a target."
"We know how to fight, Malfoy," the precious Chosen One interjected.
"You know how to not die. I wouldn't exactly brag about that." Draco turned back to Granger. "If you're going to duel, then you're damn well going to know how to do it properly."
Granger shifted a little on her feet. "Harry is a really good teacher. He taught us how to produce a corporeal Patronus during our D.A. meetings. I don't think you can even do that."
Draco snorted. "You mean your little 'Anti-Umbridge' club?" He hated how close the three of them were, everything they had done together. Granger was his. "All his teaching sure helped when we came in and broke it up."
He remembered seeing Pansy pinning Granger against the wall. He had fucked her that night, savoring that image in his head as he shoved Pansy into that same bit of wall.
"Got out of that too," Potter added. "And then sent your dear old Dad to prison."
Draco felt like he had swallowed a shard of ice. It stuck in his throat, choking him while the cold leaked down his spine.
"You got off easy because the Dark Lord wanted the Prophecy, not because you were keeping them at bay. And Death Eaters don't get sent to prison anymore. Neither will you."
"We know how to defend ourselves," Granger said softly as Weasley came to stand behind Potter. Why was she taking their side?
"Great. Now you need to learn to attack."
"Draco," she shook her head.
"We don't practice Unforgivable Curses. We aren't Death Eaters."
"How else are you planning to win? Just wait for the Dark Lord to grow old and die? Or maybe just retire and then you can come out of hiding." Draco was starting to get angry. Why did Potter get to keep his soul clean when Draco had to stain his every day? "Dumbledore's not here to clean up your mess anymore. You might just have to get your hands dirty, Saint Potter."
"Just because we don't practice them, doesn't mean we don't know how to use them." Weasley tucked his fists under his arms, trying to make them look bigger than they were.
Draco curled his lip. "You have to mean it, Weasley. Not just wave your wand around and hope for the best."
"I did," he answered. "Both times."
"Ron…" Granger gasped and even Draco was a little surprised. Weasley had cast the killing curse? Something Draco had failed to do and… Weasley had done it— twice. Draco wondered which Death Eaters Weasley had killed. Not that it mattered really. He knew it wasn't his Father, and the only other Death Eater Draco had given the smallest shit about, he had killed himself.
Draco pushed the thoughts of Theo from his head. He didn't have a wand to curse them away and even if he did, he had no idea what might happen if he tried. He didn't want to accidentally kill himself. He glanced at Granger, her pretty face exposed with her tousled hair tied back. He wouldn't let her get hurt again. By anyone. Even himself.
"Fiend fyre," he said after a heavy silence. "You should at least know how to cast it. Control it."
Granger shook her head, curls swaying. "It's dangerous. And we can't afford to get hurt. We still don't have any dittany and only a few vials murtlap essence that Andromeda brought earlier." Draco had been complaining and Granger had been coating his scars in it nightly. Which only made him complain more the next day so she'd do it again.
"I'll drop the Unforgivables, but you're learning this, Granger. It could save your life someday."
Granger glanced at her friends. "Draco, I don't think—"
"You're not thinking! If you were, you'd see that this is something you need to know how to do! Just because it's something Death Eaters use, you think it's wrong? It's power, Granger. Once you have it, you decide what's right and wrong."
"Spoken like a true Slytherin," Weasley mumbled.
"Because Gryffindors are doing so well these days," Draco snapped.
They stood there, all glancing and glaring at each other. Draco knew he was right. He was wrong about a lot of things, but not this. Granger needed to be prepared for what was coming.
"It's not… the worst idea." Potter was… agreeing with him?
"WHAT?" Weasley bellowed. "Harry, we said we wouldn't after Knockturn!"
"Dumbledore used it!"
"You're not him!"
Potter stood nose to nose with Weasley, tension ringing in between them. "You're right. I'll never be as powerful as Dumbledore, but I'm still going to have to face You-Know-Who in the end and if this is the difference between letting him win or not, I'll take it."
Oh this was wonderful, watching Potter and Weasley argue might be Draco's new favorite hobby. He could barely keep the grin off of his face as they squared off. He hoped Weasley broke Potter's glasses and that Potter bruised up Weasley's red face.
Draco grinned. He couldn't wait to see what happened next.
Granger gave a shaky breath and walked up to them. "We don't have to do anything today," she said calmly. "But, Ron, I think…" she bit her lip. "I think Harry's right." Granger waited and when Weasley didn't erupt—unfortunately—she went on. "For right now, we should work our way up to it."
She gave Weasley a small smile. If Potter wasn't going to punch him, Draco might.
"We will keep going like we have been and when we're ready…" Granger looked back at him. "We can have Draco give us some pointers."
Weasley glared at him and Draco smirked smugly back at him.
"Gonna be hard to do that without a wand," Weaselbee muttered.
"Draco has a wand," Granger said, a little of the force coming back into her voice.
Draco cocked his head to the left. "She just likes holding it."
Weasley turned red again and Draco gave a small chuckle as Granger huffed, ignoring him.
That was fine, because he saw the small blush in her cheeks too. Cute.
"Get back to the side, Malfoy," Potter said with finality. He really was taking this Chosen One thing to heart, bossing everyone around like he was in charge. Draco wondered if that was part of the reason the dream team was breaking up. He thought of ways he could test that theory as he made his way back to the broom shed.
He had pushed enough buttons for one day. Plus, he wanted to get laid tonight since Granger was probably going to be pissed at him after their 'talk' with the Order tomorrow, so Draco waited. And bid his time.
Hours passed and he was bored watching them drill maneuvers. The spring air was warm, even in his patch of shade and for the first time, Draco was a little glad of his shorter hair. At least since he was stuck out here watching them waste their fucking time on knockback and leg locking jinxes. It had gotten a little interesting again when they practiced casting while running and he watched Granger's tits bounce a bit as he reclined in the shade.
Potter called for a break and Granger shuffled off the field, making her way over to Draco.
She sat down on the ground next to him.
He watched as she placed his wand in between their thighs. He had barely used it since Theo. Just to lock the door when he went to work out in the mornings and unlock it when he came in to drink in the evenings. He didn't… he didn't really like it anymore. Thinking about everything he had done with it made his head hurt.
A drink would be grand. He wasn't sure if his dull headache was from the crack in his skull or the fact that he hadn't had a drop of alcohol in over a week.
At least his hands weren't shaking.
"It worked well," Granger said. "I think I am getting the hang of it. Unicorn hair cores transfer power quicker than dragon heartstrings so it jumps a bit when I cast." Draco raised his brows. Was there anything she didn't know everything about? Granger looked away. "Mr. Ollivander told me that the other day."
Ollivander. The man he had tortured. With the wand she was now using.
"Why were you talking to him about wand cores?"
Granger looked back up at him; her mouth open, but no answer.
"I was having him look over the wands we took from…" She was lying to him. He could see it as clear as day on her face.
There were things Granger wasn't tell him.
She shouldn't be keeping anything from him. She was his. Everything in that beautiful brain of hers should be his too. Draco stared at her until she looked away. He could make her. He could dip inside her head and find what she was keeping from him.
"We… We have your Mother's wand too."
He had barely been conscious for the scrimmage at the Manor and remembered even less than he had seen. Had his Mother been hurt?
Draco hung his head. If she hadn't been then, she sure as hell was by now. The Dark Lord would have punished everyone left in the Manor and his parents would have gotten further treatment for his betrayal.
No. She was okay. She had to be. His Father, useless as he was, would take care of her. Lucius had always loved Narcissa more than he had Draco. He had let his son be tortured. He hadn't let anything touch his wife.
Not even the Dark Lord's mark.
"Maybe…" Granger stumbled over her words. "Maybe once you're feeling better, you can… have it."
They were using his injury as an excuse to not arm him. Said it might "damage his arm further" if he used magic before he was completely healed.
Fucking bullshit.
"How is it? Your arm?"
Draco lifted it out of the sling and stretched it for a moment. The joint creaked from disuse and he felt a tight pull as the sore muscles stretched.
"Better."
"Good!" she said a little too quickly. "I just mean, one of us should have a working wand arm by the end of the day. Much more of this and I'll have to borrow your sling."
Granger rubbed at her shoulder.
"Come here," Draco said softly but firmly and spread his legs out. Granger crawled in between them. Her hair was still up so he didn't even have to move it out of the way as he placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed his thumbs in.
"Ohhh…"
He chuckled. Granger was melting in his hands. He could feel the tight knots from holding her arm out for so long and worked his hands over the sore muscles, soft enough not to hurt, but hard enough to keep her making that noise.
"God, Draco."
Her head fell forward and he pressed his face into the nape of her neck, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla thick.
"You'll get me hard if you keep moaning my name like that, kitten."
Draco slid his fingers down her spine to make her arch her back and gasp.
She leaned back into him, head on his shoulder as she looked up at him with her big doe eyes.
"Good because you're getting me wet."
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
He felt almost light headed by the sudden rush of blood to his cock.
"Hermione, are you ready?" Potter called in the distance.
She smiled over at him and answered, "Ready!"
Granger placed a kiss on Draco's lower jaw and pushed herself up, grabbing his wand as she got to her feet. "At least you'll have something to think about while I train now. You looked like you were going to die of boredom before."
Draco just stared up at her, mouth open and dry as Granger brushed her hands off on her jeans. Where her wet pussy was just underneath. He was staring right at it as if it would magically appear if he concentrated hard enough.
Granger slid his wand through her fingers.
She was cruel to torture him like this.
"Don't work too hard." His eyes snapped up to hers. "I've got my own training for you tonight."
He could see a deep fire burning in her eyes before she turned and headed back onto the field.
Draco stayed there, trying to get his dick to go soft, but everytime Granger used his wand to stun Weasley or knock down Potter it jumped back to attention.
He had a very long and hard afternoon.
.
A/N: This chapter really got away from me so I ended up splitting it into two parts. The good news is, we will have another update soon. I just have to put the finishing touches on the next chapter! I am working really hard to be able to put out a new chapter about every two(ish) weeks, but the more I write, the more I realize I still have to write. SO! We mayyyy end up with more than 21 chapters?
Raleigh_bird on tik tok made an absolutely exquisite bound copy of On the Nature of Daylight ( raleigh_bird) if you want to take a look at it and then scream at the top of your lungs like me.
dramione_edits on twitter created a beautifully stunning edit of On the Nature of Daylight ( /dramione_edits/status/1516361817378992130) that makes my jaw drop everytime I watch it.