Chapter 25
The Great Escape of Hermione Granger
The wind was sharp as it blew. Hermione huddled within her coat, hat and mittens notwithstanding the winter Scottish winds so well. She was frozen solid. As was her mood.
Gryffindor lost the match. Horrendously.
Draco, Goyle and Crabbe walked with her back to the castle and impaired her ability to comfort Ron on his loss. It did lift her spirits to see Lavender waiting below the stands.
It felt as though she was a passerby in her friends' lives. Their happiness with one another carried on with ease in her absence, seemingly forgetting that a part of them was missing. The knife of Draco dug deeper through to her soul. Her face fell. Water filled her eyes. She blamed it on the cold gusts, but it was the boiling well of sadness that seeped through her hardened resolve of self-sacrifice and touched the forgotten interior of an insecure girl with a want to be loved.
She wiped her eyes out when Draco turned his head. The last thing she needed was his bitterness at the loss of her friends. He hated them. The very mention of their names turned his words to daggers, splitting through her flesh.
The further the divide, the more she felt herself lost.
The DA was the only thing that kept them together at all. It was the time when things felt like old times: Ron and Harry by her sides, the Weasley twins poking their fun and Ginny there as a welcome female addition to the sea of testosterone. It was a faint memory that stayed their hearts linked.
If they thought of what happened outside the Room of Requirement, things might not be so cozy comfortable between them.
The entrance to the warmth of the castle was a welcome flood to her lungs. The damp, moist, thick air of Hogwarts rushed through and filled her chest with a spreading heat. It sparked life within her fingers. The sting lessened when she stretched them out.
Draco pulled the winter coat from her shoulders. "Crabbe, Goyle. Circle around."
The beat of her heart went into overdrive. The two goons were never sent away. Ever.
She overlooked her shoulder with panic as their slouched silhouettes retreated. Crabbe gave a silent wave. His eyes just as confused as hers.
The entire week since the Valentines Day brawl was the four of them, constant. Day in and out. Class after class. Every meal. Every waking minute, together. Without the half of them, Hermione felt rather naked and exposed.
Her heart continued it's panicked beat as Draco strolled. He remained close. He never touched her on their walks, but there was a closeness that almost gravitated their hands together. They brushed knuckles, once or twice. Something zapped between them each time.
The silence pressed against her chest heavier. Her heartbeat violently against the crushing cage of her ribs as the eerie quiet stomped down harder and harder. She was unsure how to read it. Was he furious? She appraised his demeanor. It did not look angry. Still, there was something different in his expression. Determined. He did not grimace at the filthy floors wet with murky waters of melted snow. He walked straight through without concern of his hem.
She followed close to his side. As he expected. And she wanted.
The week of his constant company was comfortable. It felt more at home than sitting with Harry and Ron in Gryffindor Tower now. There wasn't question and suspicion amongst their breaths.
Draco had her confidence. Same as she had his.
An alarming thought leapt to mind: Draco was her best friend.
Not only did she love the prat, she spent the most time with him and was more truthful with him than her other friends at the moment. It made her wince with disbelief that the blonde was able to become so important to her without a conscious progression. All at once, she was in love and all at once, they were inseparable.
Godric, she wasn't even a lion anymore! She'd turned into a half-snake-half-lion monstrosity.
Willingly.
They walked through a deeper part of the castle now. A small staircase just narrowed enough for one to pass through spiraled up from the floor to the ceiling. The blonde bounded up first. She followed with a less than lively step. The metal stair was thin and old. It creaked underfoot. Groaned with strain at the step of a wizard slender as she was. Her feet moved slow. Each step given her full weight in slow ascension.
It took a while in the silence to reach the top. Draco waited. His arm pulled back a hanging tapestry and they emerged into a corridor on the fifth floor. It was a short walk to the Prefect's Bath where she was pulled inside, and the lock latched well and tight. The room was placed under a privacy ward. A monitoring charm. A noise-canceling charm. Everything.
Every spell muttered from his lips coiled her guts tighter and tighter. The stretch of her skin as she anticipated something. Anything. Many things happened when they sequestered away from Crabbe and Goyle and the rest of the world.
They'd avoided silent time alone. Since that night. When things changed.
Part of her questioned whether she was as good as he expected. Perhaps she fell short of his fantasy.
There were no stolen kisses or hand holding. Romance? No. It was like nothing changed, but everything had. They were bound together. Evermore.
The silence rose again. Draco turned away from the door with a shimmering candlelight across his face.
His wand was still in hand.
Her eyes realized too late. It raised forward.
"Convertat."
The golden knobs of the nearby tub groaned as its circular bodies rotated, a ripening gush from the pipes below. Each layer of tap a different hue. Their thundering applause echoed throughout the room. A shower of rain as it gushed down through the ancient pipes to the open depression in the floor. It was the size of a swimming pool.
Hermione gasped when the sound hit her ears. Her heartbeat stalled in pump.
"Think I was going to hex you, pet?"
She absently shook her head. The water rose. Higher and higher the water climbed the walls up to the bejeweled taps. Her mind watched, unable to process the moment.
"No, I just don't - ."
His presence was near her. Close. The heat of his breath on the side of her neck. Cool metal of her necklace against the warming flesh below it. A hand ghosted the length of her back. Only the faint touch of fingertips across the fabric, barely noticeable, but teasing in their disappearance.
Tingles climbed up her spine. A swirling in her belly formed. Then came the noticeable sensation below her belly button that started the liquid leech of desire. Her body felt it before her mind grasped.
Draco had his right palm against her chest. Just below his touch was the pounding, thrumming, beating of her iron heart. It leapt higher just to reach out. He had to know it yearned for him with everything it had.
Her eyes cautiously moved away from the tub. They found his.
That instant she knew what would happen. It was impossible to stop. The moment her expression found his, a journey was started that only had one ending neither wanted to avoid.
She took hold. Hand at the back of his neck, she pulled him onto her lips with the intention of consuming all his guard until the very bleeding, fleshy, vulnerable insides of Draco Malfoy were exposed for her to feast on. That wizard, buried within, belonged to her.
Their kiss broke the barrier that held them back all week. The touches turned frantic. She yanked away the buttons of his shirt without care if they flew across the room. He, next, pulled the jumper and shirt above her head, leaving only the dainty bra as a cover of her modesty. His lips found hers the moment her mouth revealed from under the half-removed clothes. She kissed with the fabric and her tousled curls in her gaze.
All the oxygen used from their lungs, they parted.
"Why didn't you kiss me?" She asked. It was a subtle whimper, a pleading she hadn't realized was there. "One shag, and you're done kissing me?"
She pushed him. It was harder than expected. His body thudded against the tile walls.
He blinked, surprised. It was the only moment of clarity he was given. Another second and she pressed against him, kissing him all over again.
This time his palms cupped her cheeks, holding her face against his, gently.
Their tongues broke the barriers of their lips. Draco's overpowered hers. It ran along the top of her mouth. She was moved to hesitation as she absorbed the new sensation.
It was then that his hands fell from her face. They landed just at her exposed waist. Each hand gripped a side, fingers nearly touched at her center.
"I would have done exactly this," he replied.
"What is this, exactly?"
She glanced around. A loo was hardly a choice for a shag. They were dirty and frequented by many.
His hands pulled her flush against his torso. Skin against skin. A hot warmth throughout their shared connection. It was unlike their first time, cold and wet, and apart. Now, they were close. So close their pulses aligned.
Hermione held each of his biceps. The tautness beneath a thrilling excitement.
"I would have stolen you away." His mouth enunciated each word as it left his parted lips. "I would have taken you here. Locked the door so not a soul could hear us. I'd have kissed you until you couldn't stand, put you in that tub, shagged you until you couldn't stand it, and forgotten whatever it was outside that door."
Breath escaped her throat in a sound of total allure. "Is that what we're doing right now?"
He raised an open palm. It touched the side of her neck gently, pulling it to the side so that the other side was exposed to the light.
His lips placed a tender kiss against the thudding of her aorta. "If you say yes, I'll have no intention of ever leaving."
The tendons in her heart tensed. The raw edge of his voice left little more to be explained.
"Then," her voice quivered. "Let's not waste any time."
Her hands went to the button of her jeans. She pulled them off. Draco set to work on parting his belt from his trousers and then losing himself of their constraint.
They stood, in their underpants, rather dazzled by the naked body of the other in front of them. She felt his eyes roam across her just as she was unable to look away from him.
"Should we…?" His brow lifted.
"Yes," she answered quickly. "Yes. We should."
Hermione was the first to remove her intimate clothing. The bra was done with first. She hated wearing it in the first place.
It took the widening of Draco's eyes to realize what kind of effect breasts had on men. He was instantly frozen. All except a single part of him that raised through the silky soft of pastel blue pants.
She was won over on the visual response to continue. Her thumbs hooked each slip of fabric at her hip. The little bikini fit knickers were mint green with frilly edges.
A thought came to mind. A film with a woman seducing a man. She used graceful motions, the swaying of her hips, lingerie to entice him. It was common in a role of foreplay. Hermione understood the allure of undressing slowly. It extended the length of lust. Draco was sure to be rolling with desire.
Her motions were slow. Each side was lowered ever so slight down from the height of her hips, past her thighs, to her ankles.
It was clear that she was the one of Gryffindor. She stood there without a stitch, only a smirk.
She'd seen a penis in a muggle textbook for health class. It was not mysterious in shape or appearance. But, there was something rather different about one in the flesh. It was not appealing. The only source of want she summoned was in the knowledge of what that fleshy thing did to her.
He moved to the edge of the tub. She alongside him. The bubbly warm water enticing them to dive in.
"Oh." Her hands touched her throat.
The moon necklace Draco gave her was special. She did not bathe with it. Ever. It would wear down quicker if she did not care for it. She went to pull the clasp when a hand stopped her.
"Leave it," he said. "I want to see it on you."
"I don't want it to erode."
"Please." His voice was quiet. "Keep it on. Don't take it off."
"Ever?" She quirked a brow.
His hand grasped her hand. It pulled her touch away from the chain at her throat, no matter how much she wanted to place it somewhere safe, away from the water.
The dreamy, glittery gaze in his eyes convinced her not to.
She allowed him to pull her inside the watery depths. A sudden rush erupted through her limbs. The loo was quite cold. Now that she was alive with warmth, she realized how chilled she'd been.
The breathy scent of the humidity as it rose from the surface filled her head with a cloud. Eucalyptus with its distinct sharpness. It was supposed to cut through that haze of lust between their ears, but when she found Draco's gaze, it did nothing to diminish the need for his probing cock inside her.
It'd been that need in his eyes that drew her close to him. Her hands reached up from the white frothy water to his neck.
Their eyes locked together. His hands ran up the length of her forearms as she clasped her hands together at the base of his neck.
"I wish it could always be this way." She heard herself murmur before she could think better of it.
His eyes stayed steady. "Things will not change, pet."
"How can you say that? Of course, they will. Every thing changes."
"Not with us," he said.
It was said with such strength that when his lips crashed into hers the next breath, she was hardly surprised. The wet moist of his mouth swirled with hers. It pulled out the satisfaction of kissing him without much enticement.
The courage it took to find herself in love with Draco was not lost on her. It was so strong that it frightened her how much she was lost in a sea of question.
The affections that poured from his lips made it alright. It settled her tensions. She felt whole.
Draco's touch dipped inside the water. Fingers spread against the back of her thighs. Each hand gripped a piece of her flesh and hoisted her up against his chest. One knee hooked against his hip bone. The other leg held within his long grasp; fingers sank into the skin.
Their mouths connected, alive with desire, dripping with anticipation and want.
They fell into the deep water. Draco, the life preserver. Her arms wrapped around his neck as the water supported her body in soft easing of weight against him. The fingers at her thigh did not dig so far into her.
The tip of his cock brushed her slit and the sudden awareness of her own sex forged to the front of her thoughts. It was not the glimmer of his eye that consumed her soul with awe or the tender way he held her against him, as if afraid to let her go, that filled her body with the most unspeakable pleasure. It was that physical hardness of his desire just outside her entrance. She wanted to be whole. His wholeness inside her.
His lips trailed along the edge of her jaw. Their moisture pressed into her skin like a gentle perfume peppered across the flesh. They moved down the front of her neck, swirling a lively tongue through the stretched tendons exposed, and when her breath caught in thrill, his lips turned to a smile. The satisfaction leeched through each kiss. He continued a laborious path over her body, kissing all that he could reach.
Hermione made note of the fact he ignored the two parts of flesh that burned for his kiss. They heaved with each breath. She wanted it more and more. Her nipples were stiff, puckered out at the utmost length.
"Draco," she finally pleaded. "If you carry on with the suspense, I might just do it myself."
He chuckled into her ear. "Oh, pet. There will be none of that." His voice hummed a gentle growl. "The only way I want you pleased is at the end of me."
"Then end me already."
Both hands were suddenly latched onto her arse. The spread of his fingers throughout the flesh, pulling her apart from the center. She felt her pussy spread. The warm water gently stroked the erect eager clit now exposed from its protective hood.
She was moved by the strength of his hands over top of his erection. It teased the lips with its slippery rub. If she pushed harder into it with the need for pleasure, it floated away from the place she wanted.
Her body was completely at his mercy.
Draco leaned forward and took her lips in a firm kiss, breathing hard into the embrace, as a pressure built below the water. He pressed against her pussy. The head of his cock only at first. It rubbed her clit as he moved in soft thrusts.
Her hands clenched tight onto his shoulders.
"I've been waiting for this all week." She groaned.
It was no lie. She daydreamed of the thing.
He slid in. His cock found its seat within her, the warm, wet place that surrounded him. All at once she remembered the feeling of being whole. His piece right in an opening just fit for him.
The water lapped against their chests as he thrust into her. It splashed when his tempo increased, and it stole away from the desire of the moment when it hit their faces with a mist of water and bubbles.
Draco, still carrying her weight with his cock safely inside her, walked from the sunken end of the tub toward the ledge where it was shallow with a bench only a foot below the surface of the water. The back of her thighs pressed into the surface. It lowered her farther onto his length, sending a shrill cry of ecstasy from her lips.
A cry that he was there to suck from between her lips. His lips barely left hers. Even through her moans and rising pitch.
But the water still dampened the heat. It was not a pleasant shag partner. Rather loud an obnoxious and touched all the wrong places.
It was lucky that Hermione Granger was not one to run out of ideas. She pushed away from Draco's chest, a fact that confused him. He was intent to follow. He leaned forward and stole a kiss. The hearty breath from parted lips evident enough of his lust. It controlled him. If it was to do her any good, she had to mark his lust with some thing that other witches would not.
She turned around allowing her bum to press into him. His hands snaked across her open torso, one gripped a breast, pinched the nipple with a twirl, while the other tapped its way below the line of water and lost itself inside her. Its little dance had her arched back against his chest as the fingers rubbed her clit, plunged in through her depths and shuttered her eyes with total loss of herself. It was only when a sharp jab poked her back that she remembered.
Her hands lazily reached out for the edge of the tub.
Draco's arm caught one before it touched. "What are you doing?"
She smiled. The way he sounded so desperate to have her stay filled her pussy with most juices of her own desires.
"I thought you might like me better if I bent over," she replied. "You know. Like this."
The hold released her. She pressed her chest over the edge, raised her arse into the air out of the troublesome water, and lifted one leg on the bench. It gave a full view of her pussy for her eyes to consume with greed. Of that, he did.
The intensity of his stare was something she knew better than any. She felt it penetrate her deeper, traveling the length of her folds, pressing harder into her juicy insides, ready for what might await them.
Her mouth opened to mouth off again, something snarky, but it was closed by the firm grip at her throat. It raised her high, near to standing erect, while a pair of warm hips thrust against her backside and a piercing pleasure rippled through her body. The aching core was overcome. A hard erection deep inside.
He held her high by the throat as he shagged her. The flesh of her tits bounced hard as his body pushed into her. His breath at her neck, watching it all happen: her moans turned primal and loud, the joining of their flesh, the violent lapping of the water. It echoed back at them like their own film. Every groan as he retracted his cock. The sharp cry when he worked his way farther inside her.
The tension of her belly grew tight. She felt the rising tide within her. It was the climb before the peak. The glorious climax.
Her pussy started clench harder on him. He sensed her edge.
His lips dragged across her naked shoulder blade. "I love the way you feel," he murmured.
Breath was harder to catch. Her lungs struggled through the moans and sensations and absolute bliss. All effort was center at her split where he drilled his special pleasure through iron defenses.
Her hands held onto Draco's for his strength. It was losing from her fast. The trembling in her legs too unstable to support her now.
"Make me yours." Her lips cried out for him. "I'll only ever want you."
It did things to him that were hard for either to ignore.
His pace quickened. The slapping of thighs against fleshy arse as he rid himself of the fire that burned his loins, and hers.
"Don't stop," she squeaked.
"I'll never stop." He grunted. "My pet. My plaything. My little pussy. To please. Any. Time. I. Want." Each stop was a sharper thrust.
Hermione was so close. She felt the burning start of that beautiful wave. It was just beneath her reach. Her belly was tight. Thighs, tensed rigid. Her toes curled against the tiles, scraping their tender flesh against their jagged edges. The pain of little consequence.
One more minute of his cock would do it. Just the right slide inside would topple her densely built wall into a thousand pieces.
Pressure grew against her throat. His hand yanked her back against his chest. A shallower thrust.
"Say the words I want to hear," he demanded in a gruff voice. "Tell me again."
Her mind scrambled. What the hell was he saying? Finish it!
"I don't – no. I'm so close. Just let me cum," she begged.
Eyes blinded by the promise of release, her hands reached through her opening to rub herself to bliss but a tense grip latched around her wrist. It burned with fury to be pulled away. Her own sex screamed for more. It was almost there.
Draco was no longer in his playful mood. The strength in his hold and tone said as much.
"Not until you say it."
"Say what?" She gasped. "Please. Just - ."
The words were kissed away with fury. A stinging growl at her ear, tensing the muscles of her pussy around him, so stirred deep by the raw power.
"Tell me you love me, pet, or you'll never cum again."
"Bloody Merlin, I love you, Draco. I love you," she screamed in frustration. The cold air turned her erect nipples to stinging numbness as she sat there, half out of the warm water, exposed and out of breath. "I'm your pet. The only one. And you're the only one I'll ever have between my legs, shaking my thighs, fingering below my skirt and in cupboards. Now push me up against this tub and shag me silly."
He shook his head. "No."
"No?"
Her hips were twisted away from the wall. The shine of his eyes the first thing she saw in the faded light of the bath. "I want to watch you," he whispered. A gentle kiss on her lips. "You look beautiful when we shag. I'd rather not miss it."
She was not given time to react. They were joined together by the hard throb of his cock as it slipped through her folds. The slender bench only had so much room to maneuver. It left them cramped close as Draco pushed harder and harder.
It was in that moment as he laid there, determined and dazzled, led by her response, that Hermione watched him cherish her body in subtle ways. He cradled her close. The biting of his lip and the slow of his pace. His frantic kisses on any shred of skin near.
Once she noticed it, it was the only thing that fed her further. It brought a tremble to her thighs, throes of orgasm throughout her tense body, and all she saw was the flickering care within his eyes as he helped her across the edge before his cock released all his spew inside her.
The combined white of their cum floated through the now de-bubbled tub. An awkward reminder of just what their bodies did.
She whisked it away toward the overflow drain as Draco remained still. The post-coital movement pained him, by the way he winced as he slid off the bench into the deeper water.
Hermione tread water, uncertain what to do next. There was nothing pressing that they were expected to do. It was not as though it was when they had to run back to the castle to ensure they were not given detention. Now, they were totally alone, unable to be found, in the middle of a free day.
It was quiet. The only sound of lapping water as they moved through their silence.
The late afternoon sun glinted through the mermaid stained glass in colors of green and blue and deep purple. It casted brilliant hues throughout the giant tub.
She'd been examining the precision of the window when a body brushed up against her back and gently pulled her back into the deep of the water.
A grin curled her lips. "Thank you for that."
He swam from behind her back. His floating head an odd image for the tall person that he was.
"No need to thank me," he said. "We both do to the other, don't we?"
Her brow raised as a bit of coyness touched her tongue. "Perhaps…or perhaps not."
"That's not funny," he said suddenly. "I haven't taken advantage of you. I've done nothing without your permission."
Someone was not so pleasant in the afterglow of sexual congress. Hermione, on the other hand, was over the moon.
"I didn't mean it like that," she replied, embarrassed.
"Then how did you mean?"
She shook her head. It sounded idiotic now.
"Never mind."
Draco's arms pulled him forward in a long stretch through the water. "I've made it very clear to you that I don't want to take it from you. I want you to give it. I want you to want to give it to me."
"I know. I know. Thank you." Her voice was a soft whimper through the empty silence of the Prefect Bath. "It's just that, from what I've heard, not many wizards are able to bring their witches to…climax. I'm only grateful that you ensure I get what I'm owed for partaking."
His lips parted in a harsh scoff. "Those dogs would shag the air if it was warm enough."
Not that she disagreed with him, the image was unwarranted. She shook her head quickly.
"I'd rather not think of it."
"Good. Another wizard on your mind would make me…impatient," he mumbled. His thumb lined the length of her lips. The taste of her cum was a faint tickle through her mouth. And her scent, her musk, the hot smell of her sex meant to allure others was a heat through her nostrils as she breathed.
The distraction proved difficult to overcome. Her mind struggled to grasp what he said over what he did.
"Im-impatient?" Her small voice echoed.
He nodded. "That's right. Impatient."
Their bodies were close together through the water. All the bubbles, gone from the surface, it was perfectly clear to see through to their naked bodies.
Hermione kept her eyes even with his to avoid looking down at what rested within the warmth. "For what?"
"To come back here," his voice found strength, "and remind you just who should be on your mind."
They swam for another hour until the water turned cold. It was relaxing and calm. She washed Draco's back with the shower gel. The flannel was lathered with fluffy white bubbles as she spread the gel through the fabric. It ran along the length of his arm, tip to tip. She massaged the deep muscles of his neck and shoulder blades as she'd done before after Quidditch.
As she washed him in the complete silence, she felt the room turn intimate. It was a basic hygienic moment, but something within her felt rather touched by the vulnerability and drew closer to Draco than would be expected by something so mundane.
When she found her way to his chest with the flannel in her hand, he watched her work. Without a piercing gaze. It was rather lazy. Content.
He was not worried that she might harm him.
Finally, when the tub drained, they set to dry themselves. It was cold, dead of winter in a medieval castle and all. Hermione's teeth clattered violently. Her hands shook. It took great effort to dress beneath a moist towel.
"Come here," he said softly.
Trousers on, shirt hung his shoulders, he was off to a better start than she.
Hermione waddled over through the cold, wincing with each step onto the icy floor.
Draco grabbed hold of his towel, instructed her to drop her own, and set about vigorously drying her with every ounce of effort he had. The friction warmed her flesh. Blood flowed back to the forgotten, frozen places. She was more white than blue. If anything, the warmth caused a secondary response that left her wondering whether it was proper to ask for another shag so soon.
The words teased her mouth. How much she wanted to say them.
Up for a shag was not too revealing, was it?
"Say, Draco."
He looked from his task of buttoning and smoothing his trousers and shirt before placing his suit jacket over top. "Yes, pet?"
The words just about fell out of her mouth when she grabbed her trousers and felt a hot burning from the pocket. The DA called. She had to go.
Her spirits fell, but she didn't allow the expression on her face to do so. Draco knew too much. He'd grow too suspicious. Harry was already on thin ice with the wizard. He only needed one more excuse to hunt them all down and punish Hermione for ever having a friend that wasn't his.
Pain spread through her features as she forced them to remain lost in the bliss of romance rather than torn between sides. "Seeing as I've obliged in your presence all afternoon, would it be alright for me to spend time with Drogon? He's angry at me for being so busy. He tried to shred that jumper you gave me."
By nature, Draco was a suspicious person. He suspected everyone.
Only. He did not flinch to agree.
"Why does that bugger have it out for me? I bought him. He ought to be grateful."
She shrugged as she pulled her thick coat over the jumper. "He is male. Perhaps he sees you as competition."
The wards around the loo were dropped. It was silent through the halls outside the door. They slipped right through with no one wise to their afternoon romp.
"Competition? The bloody thing better not or I'll have its hide."
"A familiar is a strong bond. He might feel that I'm all his. Not to be shared."
A rumbling growl echoed a warning. "You best teach him otherwise."
The burning in her pocket grew stronger. Time crept closer to their meeting.
She had to lose Draco. Had to.
"You know I'm yours," she replied. "I love only you."
It lulled whatever strong protection he had over her and soothed it to compliance. He walked her to Gryffindor Tower, found Crabbe and Goyle along the way, and posted them near the entrance. That was a hiccup in the plan she hadn't expected. Of course she was forced to remain indifferent to their station.
She climbed through the portrait hole without a plan.
Crabbe and Goyle would follow her if she left. Not only that. They'd tell Draco that she lied.
It was the start of his trust. If she broke it so soon, he'd never trust her again. Draco could not find out that she left the Tower.
Crabbe and Goyle did not like to hang around long. They knew she liked to stay in the Tower on some days. It would be hours of just waiting. Neither remained focused for that long. They'd shuffle off to the Great Hall for something to do in no time. The only problem was that there was no time. The DA was expected to start any minute.
She groaned. What the bloody hell could she do? There was no time to brew a Polyjuice potion. Charms wouldn't work. Gryffindor Tower was devoid of many allies since they were all at the meeting. There was not one whom would steer Crabbe and Goyle away so that she might sneak away.
At this point, only an invisibility cloak would work.
Oh! She knew where to find one of those. The boy's dorm.
Gryffindor Tower was charmed just like all the other house dormitories. The stairs to the girl's chambers were charmed to prevent any unwanted wizards from entering. However, as it was decided that no witch would ever dare do the same (a fact she found rather sexist and unfounded based on her interactions with witches within the castle) the boy's dormitory was not protected by any spells. It was a simple set of stairs.
She clambered up and found her way to her year's section of the dorm. The smell alone was enough to knock a dragon's wings off. Yup. She was in the right place.
Only there were multiple beds. Which one was Harrys? They were all equally untidy.
There was one that caught her eye. It was messy. Socks, robes, worn old jumpers, papers of forgotten assignments and half secured ink wells. Oh, yes. That was Ron's bed.
Harry was right alongside Ron. She found his trunk beneath his bed. The cloak was bound tight, still secured in his case. That was a good sign. There wasn't any sneaking about that she didn't know about.
Hermione raced back to the portrait hole, slung the cloak over, and stepped through into the corridor where just like she predicted, Crabbe and Goyle still stood watch.
Their eyes examined the opening. Her feet moved as fast as she could without creating a sound. She hunkered down out of reach from their feet, careful not to be found in their examination of the empty portrait hole.
Just like she thought, they moved closer.
Crabbe was bothered by it more. "Think we should go in?"
"You have an interest in going in there?" Goyle snarled. "I wouldn't be caught dead in there."
"Maybe it is Granger saying she needs something?"
If she was not dedicated to hiding, she'd have been touched by his words. Now, they were only bothersome. Once they settled back against the wall like they were, she could safely pass.
What the bloody hell was taking so long? There was nothing there.
"I'll shout and see," Goyle said.
Oh, dear. What if she didn't answer? They'd get suspicious.
Then there was the suspicion if Hermione didn't attend a DA meeting.
Godric, what should she do? This playing both sides thing was mentally draining. She hadn't the faculties to devote to her studies, Draco and the DA. Something had to cave.
It was not fair to say she debated returning to Gryffindor Tower for the sake of safety. She did not want to hurt Draco. Or, more accurately, she didn't want to lose him. His trust was precious. He placed it in her, his life, his safety, his family's safety. If Voldemort discovered he'd lost control, it was right to believe he'd curse Draco. Or kill him. Neither are outcomes she wanted.
But there were deeper loyalties, too. Harry and Ron. They were lost without her. Two wizards unchecked and guided were loose cannons in a precarious, delicate war. Every step required thought. It required thoughts of the ten steps ahead. Ron was a strategist unmatched in Gryffindor, but in real life? She wasn't sure he was ready for that yet.
Harry was too furious at the moment to know how to move with caution. He was a fight inside he wanted to explode. She saw the glimmer. It was the changing darkness inside that fought to overpower his control. It was not the time for him to lead the way.
She had to go.
"Oi. Look. It's that bloody cat," Crabbe pointed out.
Hermione gasped. It was! Drogon sat within the opening, fluttering his tail like the cat who ate the mouse. He stared at the two lumbering wizards at the entrance.
Goyle waved it off. "Told you it was nothing. Just the stupid beast toying with us."
"They don't act like cats, do they?"
The two Slytherins marched away to their perch. It cleared the hall for a quick getaway.
"Something curious about those damn things," Goyle mumbled.
She flew past their guard with a singular thought: Drogon deserved a special treat for that.
A/N: I am sorry for how long this update took. This fic had me empty on inspiration for a while. I did pursue some other projects to help get the creative juices flowing. This is not abandoned. I do have plans for it, so stick around, if you please Thanks for all the support on this. I appreciate it all.