Chapter 24
The Change
Hermione descended the Gryffindor Tower stairs at her usual time. It was not typical for the lions to stir in that early morning light. The common room, instead of being deader than night, was occupied by one red-headed witch. Her ankles were crossed together.
She wore a woven orange jumper with a flash of a pink collar of a shirt underneath accompanied by worn and torn jeans. Her trainers were small and black with thick white laces.
It was easy to appraise the witches now that she was no longer innocent. Time with Draco, and the happenings between them, erupted a newfound examination of those around her, of all genders. Her eyes noticed subtle things. Attractive and unsightly.
Ginny was a gorgeous witch. She was warm and outgoing. There was little fear to be found within her, a confidence that exuded so much more than beauty. It was easy to understand how wizards gravitated towards her.
The previous night had opened Hermione's eyes to the art of it all. She seriously inspected herself before she emerged from her dormitory. She wore a white shirt with her black, dragon jumper over top. Her hair was charmed to remain in place: a relaxed knot at the crown of her head. Moon necklace was shiny at her throat. A subtle, oh so slight use of red lip gloss added a pop to her features without seeming so drastic. Her eyelashes were charmed thick and dark, as it was better to flutter her lashes when there was something there.
She allowed herself a quiet moment to ready herself. A wall of secrecy built up thicker around her. Had anyone known what happened, especially a Gryffindor, things might not be so calm within the house.
Times were uneasy. So many whispers and deceit lurked through the air. It hurt to believe she'd become apart of them. Hidden truths. It burned her heart to hold them away from the ones she loved the most.
"Ginny?" Hermione asked.
"There you are!" The witch rushed off the couch. Her hair was in a relaxed side pony at her shoulder. She flung it back over. "You weren't at supper. Where did you go last night?"
She opened her mouth to explain, but two hands thrust forward at her neck. They gripped the metal charm against her throat.
"What is this?" Ginny squealed.
Her eyes were wide as she absorbed every nook and cranny. Their shimmering blue were so vibrant. It felt a bit special to tell her the truth.
"Draco's gift."
"Godric. That's beautiful. Are those real diamonds? They've got to be."
Hermione pulled away from the prying hands. She waved them dismissively.
"Don't be ridiculous, Gin. It was just a simple gift. Nothing of luxury."
"Malfoy only knows luxury."
They climbed through the portrait hole. There were only a few shuffles of footsteps as they entered the Grand Staircase. A warm spill of morning light filled the room with a blooming happiness to Hermione's chest. Down below, however, her stomach grumbled in utter need for food. She'd missed food the night before.
Of course, lower still, within her knickers, was the difference in her walk. She felt a space inside her now, one that hadn't ever felt empty, but was now in need of completion. Her lust did anything but fade after her shag with Draco. It was only quenched by the slightest taste of pleasure. There was more. Much more she yearned.
The young witch to her side relayed the happenings of Quidditch practice to a daydreaming Hermione. She spoke of their lack of a plan in the air. They were in great need of practice if they had any kind of chance.
"Poor Ron could barely move afterward," Ginny commented. "Said his thighs hurt from gripping the broom so hard."
Hermione paused. "Ron was there?"
"Well, yeah. He's on the team."
"But…" she bit her lower lip. "He had a date. With Lavender."
It was vital that the two had a date, in Hogsmeade for everyone to see. Ron's date was meant to ease Draco's suspicions. Their late-night shag might have helped, but Ron being interested in another witch was more so. It had to happen.
Ginny groaned. "Don't remind me. He planned to go out with her today instead. Getting tea or something. I just hope it convinces him that he's mental. She's the worst."
"The worst is only objective. Your brother might really like her," she reminded her friend. "We should be supportive."
It made her sad that Ronald was not able to have his date with Lavender. He seemed rather excited about it. The wizard loved Quidditch, too, though, so perhaps his Valentines Day wasn't ruined.
The Great Hall was a usual breakfast Sunday crowd. It was more popular than Saturday morning. There was a fair amount who never came for breakfast that were there with their friends.
Her friend led the way to their seats. It allowed the smallest window to flicker her attention to the green table. A favorite blonde was missing from its ranks. It was not typical of Draco Malfoy to miss the morning meal. They were often early risers together.
It was the one morning she needed to see him. She sat poised on the edge of her seat. Her legs bounced below the table as she put on a steady demeanor above the waist. Ginny hadn't a clue to what had changed. There was no hint to the disruption in her body. Only Draco and Hermione knew the depths they burrowed together.
Memories of the night before brought a sense of urgency. She needed Draco. Her eyes yearned to lock with those suffocating grey eyes and the way they watched waves of pleasure wash through her like not a thing in the world existed outside of them.
"Merlin's honesty, I've been ravenous lately. I can't get enough of these little pastries," Ginny said. Her fingers grabbed three onto her plate. "Got to stop myself before term ends. Mum don't cook these. I'll be round as a hen when I get back. She'll be put out of house and home having to feed me."
"It's Quidditch," Hermione explained. "That's why your brother eats like that."
"Is it?"
She shrugged. "Partly."
Draco still wasn't there as the halfway point of breakfast arrived. He was never late for a meal.
It was becoming a noticeable thing when Hermione's eyes flickered back to the serpent's den. More than once, a strange face crossed Ginny when she was met with an absent face, looking over her shoulder, not listening to a word that was said.
Hermione crossed her legs. "I've been meaning to ask after Michael. How are you guys?"
She prayed that it would leave certain things unasked. If Ginny didn't ask, Hermione wouldn't be forced to lie.
Ginny frowned. Her fingers started picking at her breakfast rather than eating.
"We're fine. I mean, not the best, actually. Things are okay. He's just gotten odd about Quidditch now. He won't talk about it with me. It's like it's house secrets or something. Can't share with a Gryffindor."
Not that it was ever said aloud, but Michael was not Hermione's favorite wizard. She tolerated him because of Ginny's feelings and that was all. He was so snide. The size of his ego rivaled that of Draco Malfoy, the way he went on. He'd thought Hermione only wanted to pass her O.W.L.s and that was the reason for forming the DA, as if she was someone needy enough to use her own friends for information.
There was something displeasing in his attitude. It did not bode well for him in life. He was marked to be an unhappy person if he was so blinded by his own selfish suspicions.
She gave a show of support in the way she thought was best. There was no point in hurting Ginny about her rather prat of a boyfriend.
Honestly, she had little room to critique considering with whom she'd laid with.
"You two are competitors now." She explained, "There will be some things that are better left unsaid."
"He used to tell me everything," Ginny confessed in a somber tone.
"It's an adjustment. That's all."
Nothing more was said on the matter. Ginny was absorbed into her own thoughts, most likely about the changes in her relationship with Michael as Hermione thought of what changes might take place between herself and Draco. She concluded it was the source of his absence at breakfast. Their shag did something.
Did he regret it? Was he sick to his stomach?
Or, was he so confirmed in his prowess that he might move on?
Both ideas were dismissed. His behavior was anything, but capable of turning. He was the same as he had been. She'd only manipulated it to her favor. Draco warned of his obsession. His control of her would never be released.
A hand landed on Hermione's shoulder. "Morning, Mione."
"Good morning, Ronald." She smiled. Her heart fluttered back down. It was painful to think it might have been Draco touching her with a smile on his face. Still, she stowed away the disappointment so that her friend might not realize. "Heard you had quite the practice yesterday."
He yawned as his fingers shook out the length of his red hair. "Angelina worked us ragged."
"I hope Lavender was not too crushed." That was a lie. A nice one. It did not fill her with guilt to say it.
"No. We're going to Hogsmeade today. Oi, how was your day yesterday? Didn't see you once, all day."
All three of her best friends filtered into their usual spots. Harry and Ron on their side, Ginny and Hermione on the other. Soft pleasantries were said over a warm breakfast. Hermione sipped from her tea as Harry relayed over the course of his wreck of a date with Cho Chang.
They all winced as he relayed the final parting of the two.
"Bad deal, mate."
Ginny nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry it didn't work out."
He shrugged. It was not devastating apparently. The topic was extinguished.
The end of the breakfast dismissed the students to their own devices. Ron broke away to find Lavender. He was even more eager than she thought he'd be. His best jumper was pulled overtop his shoulders before he stepped out.
With the leaving of Ron, Harry was next to disappear in silence.
Her heart ached in her chest. She found her body wanting to go after him and hug away his fears. Of course, she knew it would not solve a thing between them. Their pride kept them at opposite sides, or so it felt. Little did he know how much she surrendered for him.
The witches retired to the library to fill their morning. Hermione wanted to scan over her week's studies before it all started. Ginny had a foot of parchment due. Her hands set about to complete it. The quill flickered in small motions as she wrote. A text was opened wide for her to peruse.
Hermione abandoned her belongings to roam through the shelves. The library was virtually dead. Hogsmeade weekends left the castle a mausoleum most times.
Her feet filed through aisle after aisle. Thousands of titles filled her mind. Their dense, thick leather strapped spines written in eloquence. A perfume of wisdom and age.
It made everything serene. The atmosphere of a library was what her mind thought of as perfection, a happy place she went to when things were difficult. Voldemort's spreading evil was no match for a warm fire and the contents of a good book.
She returned to Ginny's table, honestly shocked that her two bodyguards weren't there.
"I wonder where those two are," she muttered aloud.
"What's that, Hermione? I wasn't listening."
Her friend straightened her back from the former slumped over position.
She sighed. "Nothing. I just thought Goyle and Crabbe might've found me by now."
Those two were nothing but persistent.
Hermione sank into her studious position with her Potions textbook. Her eyes ran through lines upon lines of knowledge she already learned weeks before. It was all the same. Professor Snape would change something last minute that did not align with the prechosen text, but no potions suffered for it so there was no basis for her frustration. Last minute changes happened. Education changed with every waking moment. Things were learned, discovered, recorded. It was not her duty to be inconvenienced by the progress. Only, she was.
What was the purpose of these books if they did not hold the latest information? Why teach students things that were bound to be different? It made things so much harder!
Her head lulled back against her chair. It was no use. She could not focus.
She snapped the book cover closed. "I'm going for a walk."
Ginny nodded. Her fingers were coated in ink. It was best to leave her to her work.
The castle was rather quiet. The wind pushed against the walls; their groans suddenly audible in the daylight with so few voices to carry the volume above their complaints. Hogwarts was an ancient castle. It withstood the tests of time, though there were admittedly parts that should have been updated, modernized or at least rebuilt so they were useable.
Alas, it was very much in the magical community's way to not change things. They left their fashions the same, their hair, their wands, their brooms, their schools, their society, the same as the days of Merlin. So few wizards or witches learned the world around them. So many hovered in fear in their homes, content to avoid people different than their way of life.
It was the one drag of being a witch. The world would remain the same unless something big happened. Then, and only then, would the possibility for a shift in their lives present itself.
Therein lied the problem. The Ministry of Magic controlled all things with too tight a leash. Their fear of muggles left them blind to real issues with their constituents. Magic was held hostage by their government. And it was too far gone to introduce change. The Ministry would stomp her out like they were attempting to stomp out Professor Dumbledore. It was only a matter of time. If they suspected war, they'd find some way to control them all.
Options were slim as to what to do outside the walls of school. The Ministry was one of the few things were the power to introduce truth was kept. Truth about muggles and education and equality. It was all there. She'd not get much done without a station to aid her causes.
As the days went by, it became apparent that a career within the Ministry was her future. It crinkled her nose to think that she might be aligned with evil wenches like Dolores Umbridge. Of course, by Umbridge's history, it was likely they would be at opposite sides for most every argument. Not a bad outlook.
An excited pair of footsteps thundered up the stairs. Hermione heard them coming. She turned just in time for an out of breath blonde witch to wheeze at her feet.
"Hermione! There you are. I've been looking all over." Daphne fanned her face. "Astoria told me what happened. I'm so sorry I - ."
Seeing the witch brought it all back in an instant.
"You're sorry?" She snapped. "You're sorry for pretending to be my friend so that I might be out of the way for your sister to go on a date with him?"
"No. You don't understand."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You knew exactly how I felt about him. I told you. Everything. And you go support your sister in courting him? Were you ever my friend at all?"
The pretty pink flush to her face reddened. "Yes, I am. Of course, I am your friend."
"Honestly. You think I'll forgive you for stabbing me in the back?" She scoffed. "I thought better of you. I really did. Now I see you're just like Pansy. 'Serve thyself' isn't that the motto of you snakes? 'No else matters but me'. "
Daphne gasped. Her hands covered her nose and mouth.
"I never meant to - . I was just making sure my sister was safe." The witch dabbed below her eyes. Her blue eyes twinkled with moisture.
Safe? Safe from whom?
What did it matter? She chastised herself. Daphne betrayed her. It was the lowest, sneakiest, most hurtful thing Hermione could think another friend could do to another. If Ginny had done something like that, she'd have cursed her!
Hermione swallowed back her hurt. "Just stay away from me, Daphne."
She moved backward, keeping her eyes on the witch at all times. It was Pansy's style to draw a wand on a turned back, but with recent events, it was possible Daphne had similar taste.
Daphne placed her foot a step higher, as if invested in chasing after Hermione, but something else changed her mind. She wiped her eyes and shook her head. Instead, she turned back the way she came. Her blonde top knot bobbed through the rails of the staircase out of sight.
Back to their filthy dungeons. Where she might slither into her other skin.
"Two faced witch," Hermione mumbled as she stomped higher through the castle.
She tried to push the thoughts from her mind. Her lips forced a smile, but inside it was a broken facade that shattered her confidence.
The victory of Draco meant the loss of Daphne. It tainted the triumph with bitterness.
The lonely castle corridors seemed a fitting place to wind her devastation. The cost of Draco Malfoy rose with every day. First, it was her freedom. Then, the trust of her friends and of the Order. Now it had cost her the friendship of two healthy, supportive people: Daphne and Terry.
What price would be too high?
Either it would come soon or never. Both possibilities frightened her to her core.
Dark cold pockets of air filled the corridors. As she walked, they brushed past her ankles or cheek. As if fingers, grasping out for her warmth. She shivered, ducked out of the forgotten halls, and ventured toward more traveled paths back to the cobblestone courtyard. Fresh air would clear her mind.
Hermione bounced out into the frosty late morning air just as a breath of tension exhaled from her nose. Stagnant air of the castle always created false emotions. It twisted the mind into games.
There was no danger. She was safe at Hogwarts. Nothing awaited her entry to their ranks. Dark legions only followed the disturbed rambling of Lord Voldemort, not a muggleborn witch not yet seventeen.
A few students lingered in the growing rays of light. The only bits of heat to be found in Scotland that time of year. Scarves and mittens and dense cloaks mounded bodies into walking snowmen, arms hoisted by their layers, necks wrapped ten times over.
She noticed a lonely wizard within the shadows. He leaned against a stone column; hood hanged down across his forehead. A small green patch said his house, in case his behavior did not. The black leather gloves gripped onto a dilapidated bundle of pages, barely strung enough to remain in order.
Shadow covered his entire face. There was no hint to his attention or gaze. It gave her a tense feeling to walk by. Something inside knew he watched her.
Her pace hopped downward, out of the courtyard onto the foot bridge. The deep gorge looked beautiful that time of year, in that faint yellow light. Crystal clear water cut through the jagged rocks. The soft rushing gave a nice tune to the peace. A soft churning to chase out the fears of quiet.
The aged wood poked up through her woven gloves as she gripped the railing. Fresh air, chilled by the winter white, stung her eyes and nose and cheeks, but she still watched the cascade of the waters as they coursed their path away.
A steady clicking against the boards erupted beneath her feet. She felt them come.
Her mind felt she knew their identity. She glanced, correct in her assumption of the darkened being cloaked and guarded as a dementor, and turned back to the beautiful beyond.
"Do you mean to frighten me with that garb?" Her voice split the serene.
The figure did not stop. Her feet felt the tremble beneath the boards.
A dark rumble of a chuckle emerged from the black. "I wouldn't pretend to know what frightens a witch like you, Granger."
Blaise Zabini removed his hood. A pair of large brown eyes formed in the light.
"I'd wager nothing does," he said.
"Then you'd be wrong."
His fingers tapped in succession against his book. "I'd doubt that. Very much."
She did not know much about the wizard. He was quiet and clouded in mystery. Part of her believed that was what he wanted. Like Draco, the Slytherins seemed to assume masks of themselves outside their common room.
His mystique did not work on her.
"What can I help you with, Blaise?" Her arms crossed across her chest. "Must be a good reason seeing as Draco has done his work of ensuring not a single wizard will talk to me."
Blaise tilted his head, intrigued. "Malfoy's are inherently drawn to those of power. I'm not surprised he's lost himself in your aura."
The confidence in his tone leveled hers to the ground.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Haven't you ever wondered why the witches shy away from you? The professor's glance at you a little too long. Perhaps, when you're not looking." His tone had dipped lower than a mumble. "They sense something. Can't you feel it?"
Hermione stepped away. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"They know something is abnormal within you. They know magic inside and out. For years, they've learned the sensations of young magic as it grew…Your magic is not how it should be."
Within his voice was a change. A summoning strength that brought her paranoia forefront.
What did he know? Did Professor Snape betray her secret loss of control?
She dropped her arms to her sides, ready to pull her wand if he turned too threatening for comfort. Her heart primed and readied. It flooded her hearing. Thump thump. Thump thump. Her nose took control of her breath.
"Harry Potter is to the Dark Lord as you are to the wizarding world," he muttered. "The banished and outcast will rise again."
He repeated the statement like a mantra, over and over, getting quieter with each moment.
Hermione was baffled. Her heart moved with fury and fear, not a good combination to present a Gryffindor with. Her thumb caressed the tip of her wand for a sense of safety. It calmed her only slight.
"I should go," he announced suddenly. His hood thrown back over his head. "He'll be coming. Wouldn't want to get his knickers in a twist."
The interaction had her at a total loss for words. Her feet moved back to the castle without thought. His words swirled around. Over and over his statements pierced her focus.
What he'd said matched her beliefs of her life from the beginning. She always knew she was different. It was placed on her magical abilities then on her muggle ones as she transitioned worlds. Muggles could place blame on her magic for setting her apart, just as the wizards casted blame upon her upbringing. That suspicion she did not belong was a constant in her late-night thoughts. Was she not enough for anyone? Was there no place she belonged?
It was not long before a head of platinum blonde appeared in front of her. The creeping tension around Blaise's words a sharper curiosity.
"You've had a busy morning, pet."
She blinked. "What?"
"Daphne took her frustrations out on me. I'll have you know."
Oh. Right.
"Serves you both right."
His brows jumped. "Of what am I guilty of?"
"Being a sneak." She rubbed her temples. Shagging hadn't taken away the massive frustration she still felt on the matter. Draco arranged a date with another witch. "How is your blushing girlfriend anyhow? Recovered socially from the scene you caused at the Three Broomsticks, I'd hope. She won't last long with the likes of you if she hasn't."
His tongue clicked in dismay.
"Spoken rather spiteful for a sneak herself."
She grumbled. "I already explained Terrence. You, however, have not explained Astoria. Are you – are you going to marry her?"
"No."
"Isn't that what courtship is for? Marriage? You wanted to court her which has to mean you wanted to marry her."
It made her angrier by the minute. Draco and Astoria.
"Pet," he barked.
His tone made her stop, mid-step.
"Can I speak to you a moment?"
She held her breath. That tone meant something else. "We're speaking now."
"Not here." He wagged his finger. "In there."
It was a nearby cupboard that was not used for much of anything except storage. She gave a quizzical glance at his determination but allowed his hold on her wrist to pull her inside and slam them shut into the privacy of the dusty room.
Draco grabbed hold of her shoulder. Through the ray of light from beneath the door, the sparkles of his grey eyes bright. They danced down to her lips.
"I left Astoria yesterday to go to you. Do you think my eyes were ever on marriage if I can't keep away from you?"
"But why in the first place - ."
"We were both doing what our families instructed. It was both our honors placed on the line. I was told by my father what to do. I cannot refuse," Draco explained. Both of his hands took hold of the sides of her face. His nose rubbed against the length of hers. "Do not mistake my honor with my ambition. I shall still chase you, if you run, and I will hold you down should you fight. There is no escaping me. Remember what I said to you last night? My want for you will only increase."
She nodded. Her breaths were short gasps. Her emotions were unsteady, whether to be irate or relieved or horny. It was a massive mess in her belly left for her to sort out.
"And it has. I did nothing but dream of you last night," he continued.
Her dreams were all about him, too. Naughty, dirty. She looked down with a blush.
He chuckled. "I take that I was in yours, too."
Their lips caressed together. Their gathered moistures swirled atop the pink, tender flesh, in need of more. Always more.
"You must accept there are things I will have to do."
Absolutely not. She would not allow him to court another young witch while he carried on with her. It was not right. It was not fair. It wasn't fair to her!
A Malfoy was the boss of his own destiny. Draco made his own rules. He lived by the code that the world was his for the taking as a wealthy heir, so handsome it physically hurt to look away.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Pet," Draco warned. His eyes stiffened at her gaze. "Accept me. As this."
Couldn't he see that she did accept him?
"If I didn't, do you think I'd lie to my friends about you? Tell them that you're my friend, too. Not the truth. Not that you forced me into this little game and have now left me tangled in all that you've laid. I accepted it, all. When have I not?"
He was not moved by her irritation. Her words were easy enough for him to riddle out and defuse. He had practice. She practically let him run her life because it was easier than the fight it would cause.
Draco pressed his lips gently into hers. Their warmth left an absence when he pulled away from her mouth. "When you chose not to come to me with your problems. You might have asked me to shag you rather than stage a brawl."
That was his pride. It fed that massive ego hidden with some kind of charm because it was too large to have fit within his slender body.
"That was not the intent I had in mind." She hissed her words gently. "I thought you'd be angry enough to realize that there were other wizards who'd want me if you thought I was so easy to throw away."
"Haven't I always said no wizards, pet? Have I not always known there are wizards that want you?"
"You might have told me, too, Draco. Instead of having me find out," she replied softly. "Do you know what that did to me? I was…heartbroken."
He ran his finger alongside her face. "Think a quick shag will make it alright?"
Her jaw dropped. His hand slapped away from her face.
"Draco Malfoy." She retracted from the closeness of his body. Her face went ten shades of red. "You cretin."
Through his lips parted a satisfied chuckle. One of the most genuine laughs she'd heard. She allowed herself a quick glance. He was more animated with him facial expressions. There was not much room for a sour scowl through the lines of his smile. Then there was the matter of his posture. It was not poised on edge. He was rather…relaxed?
He slipped his hands into his pockets. When her brows lifted, he offered a shrug of his shoulders.
"Worth a shot."
She rolled her eyes, hiding the fact that it was minorly humorous.
The room smelled of must and dust. A foul combination. Spider webs were practically tangible throughout the cupboard. She felt their sticky strands all over her. Little tingles went through her scalp as if their bodies roamed through her hair. A shiver went her spine.
Hermione tried to force the thoughts of the arachnids out of her mind with some other conversation. "Where were you this morning?"
"Why? Did you miss me?" His lip curled in the corner.
"No," she replied swiftly. It was not flattering to have her vulnerabilities aired so easily. Her face was red with embarrassment. "Only, I was left unsupervised. You and your body guards left me to my own devices."
He smirked. "So you did miss me."
Her breath caught. "Did you abstain from breakfast just to gauge my reaction?" She gasped.
It was low. Even for him.
Hermione threw open the cupboard door and emerged back into the fresh air with a bubbled frustration founded more in her vulnerability than tension. She disliked having her obvious want of him so easily read. It only fed his ego. She feared for his neck. Too much more weight would snap the poor skinny thing in half!
Draco exhaled a soft chuckle. It took him only a moment to catch up to her pace. Tree limbs for legs gave him incredible speed without the effort.
"I might have," Draco snickered, "if I'd had the strength to leave you alone for so long."
Her chest ruptured with breath. "You mean?"
"I was detained with force."
It implied something bad. Though she couldn't understand why. He was given the largest margin to operate without professor interference. They knew Lucius' wrath to be a vengeful one.
She swallowed. "That does not sound pleasant."
Was it Voldemort? Had something happened she was unaware of?
"Professor Snape was forced to levy detention seeing as that slag at the Three Broomsticks reported me for underage dueling." His tone was not troubled in the slightest.
An infraction, against a Prefect! Snape had to be furious. He prided himself on his house and the constituents within.
Draco walked with ease. His hand in his pocket, a delightful appearance to his eyes. They were not narrowed and suspicious. He looked joyous.
Had she done that to him?
"I ought to report the dumb bitch for an unhygienic establishment."
"Are you in trouble?"
"Don't worry, pet. I'll still have time for you."
There were many things she knew about Draco Malfoy before the term. One was that he took it personal when he was admonished. It insulted his pride. Deeply.
Jokes that were received without laughter burned him to his core. He was silent and sulked whenever that happened.
She could not imagine what he felt at being lectured by a professor. She knew that if it'd been her to be under McGonagall's disapproving glare, her face would be red for days. She'd work twice as hard to atone for the sin of her behavior.
His need for her rivaled that of his need to be upstanding in the eyes of everyone.
Her hands fumbled with the edge of her jumper. "I'll report myself to Professor McGonagall. We can serve our detentions together."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I am equally responsible for what happened last night. I should be punished if you are."
"Well that wouldn't make much sense since I told them it a fight between Higgs and me, not you, would it?"
She paused. "You framed Terry?"
Draco stopped. His eyes back to their squinted nature, distrustful and loathing. They turned on her. A center of his focus, the bane of his nature, the only thing that consumed his mind, a loathing prey deceiving and alluring. She was.
His voice stiffened; his throat clenched tight enough that the tendons bulged through the flesh. "Of what does that wizard concern you, hm? You said he was nothing. Terrence Higgs is nothing to you. Nothing."
Jealousy was a snide, cunning trait he used just as sarcastically. It'd grown stronger during term, but never was it so fierce. It was as if he was ready to say the curse of death.
He was right. His need for her swelled.
"He is nothing to me," she answered. She leveled her eyes with him, firm and unyielding. The steady carrying melody of her tone gave no hint of anything other than truth. "I love you. Draco."
All at once his shoulders settled down from the immense heights of suspicion. Tendons and veins retracted back to the flesh of his neck. The sharp glare in his icy eyes warmed ever so slight.
"Very well, pet." A soft smile came to his lips. "Come now. I'll wager you'd like a spot of reading before lunch."
"That I would," she replied with a smile. "Very much."
A/N: I apologize from my absence. School has started and things have bene crazy. My creativity was drained a bit, too. I'm slowly starting to find my groove again. Thanks for much for sticking with the story. I will not abandon it. I appreciate all the support and comments and kudos and likes. It's all so wonderful and keeps me going. Thanks so much.