Chapter Sixteen: Incendio
The next evening, Hermione joined Draco in the Room of Hidden Things once again, but this time she felt more nervous. So much had happened in the last few days and she wasn't sure what to do about her new revelations.
For starters, she'd come to the conclusion that she fancied Draco. No doubt about it.
In the process of trying to fix things between them, Ron had unintentionally helped her recognize that her thoughts about Draco were driven by something more than a physical attraction. He would hate that if he ever found out. And ironic, wasn't it? That Ron's simple question, 'why Malfoy?' had been the solidifying factor in understanding these feelings?
Her answer to Ron's question had come so easily to her. Just remembering the question now, the long list of reasons why she liked Draco streamed through her mind and her cheeks tinged pink once again.
She found Draco astonishingly handsome and even sexy. He was kind, funny, and the smugness she once hated was now one of her favorite things about him. His famous smirk was no longer rude but was flirty and adorable. He comforted her and teased her all in one and he could hold an intelligent conversation with her for hours. And the way he looked at her, Merlin, the way he looked at her, all serious and attentive, was more flattering than any compliment she'd ever been given.
Now that she owned her very real feelings for Draco, she wasn't sure how to act around him. Should she tell him? Should she call off their agreement? Should she continue to pretend it was all fake?
She figured the last idea was the best bet. Surely, there was no point in telling him, and calling it all off would be more detrimental than helpful.
He would only wonder why.
And there was also the matter of the cabinet, which seemed no closer to being fixed than when they had started. A month of studying and a few weeks of trying different spells, yet still nothing was happening.
What did these new feelings have to do with their contract? Nothing in the grand scheme of things.
She was also heavily conflicted over her thoughts about Ron. Nothing about him made her heart jump. Not his smell, or his eyes, or his touch. She wasn't sure if it was scary, or good, or wrong to no longer have those feelings for him- the ones that got her into this whole situation in the first place.
She'd spent years loving Ron, years wishing he'd just notice her existence in a more-than-a-friend way. But now it seemed he had, and she no longer cared.
Ron's voice had repeated in her head over and over and over again that night, whispering, "She's not you. She's not you. She's not you."
She could read between the lines of his narrative. He didn't care for Lavender, at least not as much as a boyfriend should. She'd been an easy means to get a rise out of Hermione when he was angry with her. She'd been an even easier lay. But when he let himself face the facts of his feelings, they held nothing for the blonde witch he called his girlfriend.
No, he liked Hermione.
This new truth should have sent her soaring, flying through the heavens with happiness, but Hermione, instead, felt sick. In a different world, that moment in front of The Fat Lady would have been the greatest moment of her teenage life, but that world was gone. In this world, Hermione's heart traded the Gryffindor Knight for the Slytherin Prince, and this reality was more difficult to navigate than she ever could have imagined.
These thoughts plagued Hermione's mind as she paced thrice in front of the Room of Requirement before stepping through the large oak doors that appeared.
Hermione passed the mountain of rotting chairs and the tower of books that still made her heart tear a little bit every time she looked at it. She came to a small collection of statues that transported her back to a different time – to Devil's Snare and Wizard's Chess – but she continued to move forward, away from the stone bishop, until she was deeper inside the maze.
She spotted Draco as she turned the last corner and smiled at her view. He was wearing dark gray trousers and a black oxford shirt. His tie, she noticed, had been discarded in a pile on the floor where his matching coat lay crumpled. He was kneeling half inside the cabinet, his head tilted upwards as he studied the inside of the cabinet. She had a fantastic view of his arse and struggled to prevent the flow of blood that wanted to rush to her cheeks at the sight. His wand was raised with a Lumos, but he was focused on something and hadn't noticed she was there.
"What on earth are you doing down there?" Hermione laughed.
His head turned in her direction so quickly, he hadn't had time to move out of the cabinet and his forehead collided roughly with the wooden frame. She could hear a loud thump followed by a few whispered curses as he righted himself.
"Merlin, Hermione," Draco half-shouted, rubbing his bruising forehead. "Walk a little louder next time."
He rose to his feet and took a few steps toward her, noting the confused look in her eyes and the way her lips were pressed into a thin line. Annoyed, probably, by his tone of voice.
"Sorry for yelling," Draco voiced, stepping toward her. "I was startled, but I'm glad you're here."
Her expression softened and he smirked to himself, pleased that he had been able to understand her perfectly.
"What were you looking at?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"
Draco watched as she took off her outer layer, placing the thick sweater beside his coat in an equally rumpled pile.
"No. Actually, I'm not sure." He took hold of her arm, much like Ron had the night before, leading her to the cabinet where he'd been kneeling only a few moments ago. This felt natural. His touch caused tingles on her skin.
"I tried that diagnostic spell you always do, the one that shines that bright blue, but I think something is off."
"What do you mean?"
"It was almost white when I did it. It wasn't that bright blue that it always has been, but a faint sort of periwinkle. I'm not sure how it could be fixing itself, but I was inspecting it to see if any part of the structure was different," Draco explained.
"Vanishing cabinets don't just fix themselves," she responded teasingly. Draco's eyes rolled in response, lacking their usual malice.
Hermione pushed his shoulder, playfully reprimanding him for using those enchanting, silver eyes for such disrespect. She was smiling, though, revealing that she wasn't nearly as offended as she pretended to be.
She leaned into the cabinet, ultimately leaning closer to Draco- but she wouldn't let herself think about such unimportant things right then.
The cabinet appeared unchanged, the wood still humming that slight, rhythmic sound that magic always bled.
"I don't see anything that could be different," she mused, her eyes wandering slowly from the wooden walls of the cabinet, to the silver of Draco's eyes, which were close and captivating.
She almost let them distract her.
"Doubt my ability to cast the spell, do you, Granger?" He teased.
There's that perfect smirk I was thinking about earlier.
Her breath almost hitched at his flirty demeanor and her own thoughts. She wanted to move away from him, not wanting to reveal the effect he was having on her, but at the same time, her body desperately wanted to stay exactly where it was, crouched close to Draco, shoulders touching, breaths mixing, half-inside of the vanishing cabinet.
The look on his face was equally contemplative as he stepped away, but Hermione wasn't sure why. She shivered at the loss of heat, slowly straightening herself as she tried to shake those thoughts from her mind and focus on the task.
Draco was willing his thoughts to settle down, too as he moved a few paces away from her.
From that crouched position beside her, he could see every freckle that spread across her nose and cheeks and the subtle way her skin brightened at their closeness. It reminded him of the way she threw her head back laughing on the bench, color filling her cheeks, and the map of her freckles he could probably make without looking, having memorized them from all the times she's kissed him.
And he thought- no- knew that if he was that close to her for much longer, he'd have to kiss her.
"Here, I'll cast it again," she offered.
Suddenly, the room was filled with a glowing, azure, periwinkle light.
"That was definitely not the bright blue that we've been seeing the past few weeks," remarked Draco in his cool voice.
She shook her head, gaze never leaving the cabinet. "I don't understand."
"What's there to understand?" he asked as he looked at her. Her face was serious. "Isn't this a good thing?"
"We haven't done anything, that's what I don't understand. How can we be closer to fixing the cabinet if we haven't done anything to it? What progress have we made?"
She was pacing again. She always paced when she needed to do her best thinking. She once told him that walking helps you think because it makes your blood pump a bit faster, helping oxygen get to the brain at a higher rate.
Draco wasn't sure he agreed with that. After all, she set his heart racing whenever he was near her and that only seemed to render his mind completely useless.
Still, he started pacing, too, unsure what would have caused the cabinet to glow whiter.
"There has to be something- some reason why its lighter," Hermione said, thinking out loud, after a moment. She turned to face him.
"Well, what has changed since last time?"
She shook her head. "Just those spell ideas we wrote down."
"Do you think the cabinet can tell we've thought up other spells?" he asked, though he already had the answer in mind.
The cabinet was magical, but it was not that magical.
Hermione, obviously on the same thought, laughed at the question. "Definitely not," she agreed. "I'm really starting to doubt that idea of mine. You might have been right on that one."
Draco smirked.
Hermione had to look away again, but her willpower did not last long when she heard his voice.
"Then it must be something out of our power," suggested Draco, stepping a little closer to her.
"How long has it been since we started working on the cabinet with magic?" she asked.
"About fifteen days," he recounted.
Hermione shook her head. "It can't be weekly, then. We were here last week, too."
"What if it is a cycle? Like something that follows the weather… or the seasons? Have we officially started winter yet? I can never keep track. It's not like the season matters. The moon? It's been colder lately-"
"Draco!" A wide, beautiful grin took over her features, her eyes shone that fiery light that he loved so much, especially when in conjunction with her speaking his name. He smiled back. "That's brilliant!"
She threw her arms around his neck, almost knocking him off balance. Just as he started to wrap his arms around her too, unsure why she was hugging him, but pleased nonetheless, she started to move away.
Hermione picked up her sweater and threw Draco's coat to him, then his tie, before speeding toward the door. Draco paused for only a moment before following. She was already halfway down the corridor when he exited the room.
"Hermione, where are we going?" he shouted after her, putting his coat on.
"Where do you think?"
I have no bloody idea, Hermione, you're the brilliant one.
He jogged to catch up with her as she started ascending the next staircase.
"The Astronomy Tower," he whimpered softly, Hermione didn't hear him.
Setting foot on that platform was one of the last things he wanted to do. Snape had the idea that it would be an easy place to bring the Death Eaters when he let them into the castle; a good place to kill Dumbledore.
He didn't want to think about that. Not now. He didn't want to go up there. Certainly not with Hermione.
She stopped her quick steps once she'd noticed he stopped following. "Why aren't you coming?" she called, looking at him from her position higher up.
He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Don't you have notes or a calendar we could reference, Hermione? I really don't feel like exercising this evening when it can be avoided," he lied lamely.
She stared at him for a moment, "Don't be silly, it's not that far. Come on."
She started up the stairs again. He took another deep breath. He could do this. He'd have to follow. He'd have to stay calm.
When he reached the top, Hermione was already standing at the metal rail that served as a barrier to keep one from falling.
If only I had one of those around my heart to keep her from creeping in, he thought.
She was beautiful in the starlight, a radiant vision. He almost forgot his panic.
"You can see it up there," she said pointing toward the sky at the barely-there moon, "but I can't remember if that's waxing or waning."
He was beside her again, close enough to touch.
He glanced up at the vast skies, following her finger. "That's waning. Just starting, actually."
"That must be it, Draco, don't you think?" She smiled brightly. "It must have a window of fixability during the waning phase of the lunar cycle," she sang, turning even closer to face him.
She always wore this excited, proud look whenever she solved something new. But somehow, tonight, it seemed like there was something more in the way her eyes gleamed.
It humbled Draco to realize that it was for him.
Her smile was still bright as she turned back to face the sky. But despite the wondrous view of the stars on this clear night, he could not take his eyes off of her.
"Of course you'd have the lunar cycle memorized," she voiced through a laugh. "You're a walking constellation."
She truly seemed captivated by the sky. A trickle of silvery moonlight ran down her cheek and he couldn't look away, captivated by her. "It's just a name," he insisted.
"I don't believe that for a second." She sighed, still peering out over the castle grounds, into the sky. "You're just like them," she persisted.
"Like what?"
"Like stars."
Wondering what might have possibly driven her to make that statement, Draco followed her gaze, finding his namesake easily, and studying the sky, searching for clues that would help him understand.
They stood there in a comfortable silence, stars reflecting in their eyes, illuminating their skin, and punctuating each breath they both took.
Still, Draco saw only stars.
"You're just like them," Hermione repeated, turning to look at him. Time (or was it his heart?) seemed to stop. She looked at him as if he were something special. The feeling of being special so foreign, that it almost hurt to be looked at like that.
"You're exactly like them, Draco. You're just too close to see it." As her weight shifted, her wayward curls fluttered in his direction where they brushed the skin of his shoulder. Even through his shirt, the simple touch set his skin on fire.
Her amber eyes were still on him, curious, and studying. "You keep yourself hidden from everyone else, like stars in the bright light of day," she said. "But I get to see something completely different.
"You pretend to be indifferent around everyone else, but then you cheered me up on the bench. You've seen me at my lowest, crying over a stupid boy, yet you came back the next night, and the one after that. I know you'll deny it, but I recognized that blanket for what it was, a promise to protect me while I sleep.
"You show me over and over again, Draco, this star-like version of you. And you're much brighter than you pretend to be."
The emotions that flooded Draco's heart and mind were so foreign to him, and he wished more than anything that he had the power to read her mind and know exactly what was swirling in that brilliant, complex brain of hers.
He knew she was waiting for him to say something– anything– to acknowledge her proclamation. Words streamed through his mind, but he couldn't really say what he was thinking, could he?
How pathetic would it look if he asked her blatantly, "do you say things like that because we're friends, or because you're my fake girlfriend, or because this is starting to feel real for you, too?"
No, he thought. Hermione was just an incredibly kind person. He doubted that the words she said meant what he hoped.
He watched the stars speckled across the sky and he wished that his heart would stop thumping so loud so he could properly sift through his messy thoughts.
He wished he could be honest, and tell her exactly how light he feels when she's with him, when she kisses him, when she says these unbelievable things. He wished he could tell her he was thankful he had someone who understood, someone who saw the moments he forgot his Malfoy mask and didn't judge him for it.
He wanted to tell her that there was a good reason his softness was only for her, and how everything felt real.
But words streamed by, and nothing sounded right, and none of them were enough. After all, this was Hermione Granger. Kind, brave, strong, and beautiful… She deserved so much.
He was certain no response could adequately explain what he wished to convey.
"I'm nothing special," he settled on, feeling his shoulder brush hers as he released the breath he had been holding.
She shook her head, always stubborn. "Is that why your eyes shine like them, too?"
Draco suddenly found that he could no longer pretend the sky was more interesting than the witch beside him, and when he turned his head, she was looking at him, studying his face like he was the most intriguing sight she'd ever seen.
That fire in her eyes, in her everything, – the one that drew him nearer as the weeks passed, the one that kept him warm as the cold that was death waited for him around each corner, the one that could set the whole wizarding world ablaze – consumed him.
Before he could extinguish his desire, his arms were around her, his lips consuming hers.
He kissed her.
Without warning, without permission. Without even deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn't have done anything else.
Incendio.
And before he even realized what he was doing, before he could think about his doubts and their fake relationship, her arms were around his neck and she was kissing him back.
The softness of her lips pressing against his sent him soaring higher than a broom could ever take him. He smiled into it and her lips matched his before her arms tightened, pulling him closer. He tilted her head back and he kissed her with a swift progression of intensity that made her cling to him as if he were the only solid thing in a dizzy, swaying world. His needing mouth was parting her shaking lips and the way her tongue perfectly tangled with his ignited sensations he had never known he was capable of feeling, dancing like Fiendfyre throughout his body.
He kissed her like her lips were air and he couldn't breathe. He kissed her like her breath held all the secrets of how to be a good person, and he desperately wanted to be a good person. He kissed her like it was his last dying day and he knew, if the Dark Lord was standing right there ready to cast the killing curse for his failures, his inadequacies, and his love, he knew he could die happy knowing that he really, truly, passionately, kissed Hermione Jean Granger and she kissed him back.
I could get used to this, he thinks. (He kind of already has).
Hermione Granger had sparked something deep within him. She warmed his body, his mind, his soul, awakening something inside him that he'd forced aside for far too long. She fought her way into his head and spread like wildfire, leaving little but scorched earth in its wake and the tiny, hopeful promise of new growth.
He kissed her like he loved her, because he knew that he did.
Draco pinched himself, hard, needing desperately to know that this wasn't all some cruel dream, a desire-driven hallucination.
But the sting from his fingers came, and burned, and his heart raced faster.
He was kissing Hermione Granger.
She was kissing him back.
And it was real.
.
.
A/N: How's that for your "happy Friday"? *wink* OH MY GOODNESS, YES! I am so so so so sooooo happy for our favourite couple! I know we've all been waiting for this moment!
Questions: What are you feeling/thinking? What do you think is going to happen next? What is your favourite line from this week's chapter? (If enough people like the same line, I'll make some cool graphics to go with it)
Check out my one-shot, This is Not the End! Same author, same world, same story, same Hogsmeade date, just different characters (that I hope you'll love as much as I do). Spin-off one-shots will become a thing so go check out the first one!
Thanks, as always, to Rachelletwin2 and Bumbleb-thc for their helpful work as Betas for this fic.
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Disclaimer: All publically recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling.
Many thanks to anyone who takes the time to read this story, OxfordElise