Hello, everyone! π How are you? I'm back with a new chapter, which I really hope you'll like π
I'll never get tired of saying it, thank you so much to all of you who are there reading this story and, I hope, enjoying it π. Special thanks to all of you who let me know, in one way or another, that you like the story. But thanks also to everyone who has decided to add it to favourites, to alerts, or to recommend it ππ
Draco is now a Death Eater, Dark Mark included π¨. And Voldemort has promised him that he'll free Lucius from Azkaban if he helps them get into Hogwarts... How will he do it? Theories welcome! π And... apparently there's a hidden weapon at Hogwarts that Voldemort intends to get his hands on. What!? What will it be? π±
Thanks in advance for reading! I hope you like it a lot, I'll be happy to read you in comments, if you feel like writing me π
Let's get on with the story... Let's see how our protagonists do with sneaking around the castle π
CHAPTER 29
Darkness
"Harry Potter β come to me β"
"Harry!"
"Harry Potter β I need β"
"Harry! Guys, help me!"
"Hold on, I'm coming... Dean!"
"O-okayβ¦ Let's see β shake him! Or... waitβ¦"
"Harry!"
"It's just that he's not β"
"β Potter β help β help me β"
"It's not working..."
"I'll get some water..."
"HARRY!"
Harry's eyes snapped open, inhaling sharply as if someone had been compressing his lungs, preventing him from catching his breath. He tried to breathe, almost desperately. He was panting, feeling as if he'd been running for hours and had just stopped dead in his tracks. He was lying down, he could tell. He was lying on a soft surface. He was in his bed. And he was soaking wet. Drenched in cold sweat, soaking his pyjamas as well as his sheets. Sheets that, by the way, were wrapped around his body. There wasn't much light around him. Moreover, he could see everything around him in a blurry way, since he wasn't wearing his glasses. Still, he was able to make out the figures of his roommates, surrounding his bed. He heard their murmuring, but could not understand anything. Suddenly, the outline of his glasses, brought closer to his face by a freckled hand, became clear. Harry picked them up, with a trembling hand, and put them on. Then he managed to bring Ron's face into focus. And those of Seamus, Dean and Neville. All of them surrounding his bed. All in their pyjamas, dishevelled, and with identical worried faces. And sleepy. The candle on his bedside table was lit.
"Are you all right?" Ron asked, looking at him apprehensively. He looked a little pale, and his voice sounded hoarse, and slightly breathless.
The dark-haired boy swallowed before answering. His mouth was completely dry. He was still breathing hard, and even shivering.
"Yes," he said, shakily, out of inertia. He didn't feel well at all. He rose to a sitting position, trying to get his bearings. "I guess... What happened just now?"
His roommates softened their expressions, calmer as they saw him react, looking at each other with relief.
"You started screaming all of a sudden," Neville explained, frowning. "You looked very frightened. Ron tried to wake you, but he couldn't manage to do it. You were writhing around. We thought it was a nightmare, but you wouldn't wake up..."
Harry felt a blush creep across his cheeks. Dean solicitously handed him the glass of water he was holding in his hand. The young man drank greedily, almost sighing with relief. His heart was slowly regulating itself.
"Yes, it was... a nightmare," Harry corroborated, trying to make his voice sound calmer. He tried not to look Ron in the eye. "I'm so sorry. I don't remember anything... but I have an unpleasant feeling in my body. I think I was having a pretty bad dream," he apologised, smiling self-consciously, trying to look genuinely embarrassed.
"Well, what a nightmare," Dean commented, grimacing. "Our Option B to wake you up was to pour water over you."
"And Option C was to hit you with the lampβ¦" Seamus added, making Harry grin.
"You don't remember anything?" Neville asked, worried, no humour in his voice. "It seemed really bad."
"Snape naked, maybe?" Seamus conjectured, deadly serious. "If so, say it; you'll need to go to therapy."
Harry forced a laugh.
"Not that horrible," he joked, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his pyjama sleeve. "But no, sorry, I don't remember. I suppose it's better this way, it must have been very unpleasant. I think I had too much dinner..."
"Now that you mention it," Seamus added, rubbing his belly. "The dinner upset my stomach, too. I think it was the peppermints..."
"That's what you get for losing the bet to Nigel," Dean scoffed, eliciting a chuckle from his friend. Ron, on the other hand, didn't laugh. He was still watching Harry intently. And neither did Neville.
"Do you want us to call someone?" Neville insisted, looking at him solicitously. "Shall I get McGonagall? Madam Pomfrey?"
"No, no. Not at all. I'm all right now, really," Harry hastened to add, a little embarrassed. "You can go to bed..."
"Great news. Well, off to bed then," Seamus ordered, stifling a yawn. "Tomorrow morning there's Defence Against the Dark Arts first thing in the morning, and we need to be awake to see Snape take points off us for breathing."
"Sorry for waking you up," Harry muttered, smiling sheepishly.
"Nah, easy," Dean waved goodbye, patting him on the shoulder and standing up. "Come on, goodnight..."
He walked away, followed by a sleepy Neville, in the direction of Neville's bed. Seamus was heading in the same direction. Ron remained seated on Harry's bed, watching him intently.
"That voice again?" he asked very quietly, taking advantage of the fact that Dean and Seamus were distractedly trying to get into Neville's bed instead of their own, so sleepy were they. "The voice that keeps calling you?"
"Yes," Harry admitted, after several seconds of silence. "How did you know?"
"It wasn't a normal nightmare, you're lying through your teeth. When you were having nightmares about... You-Know-Who, you were squeezing your scar, and now you're not. It could only be that new voice that's come to annoy us."
Harry smiled faintly and rubbed his head. Neville's patient words were heard, standing by his own bed, as his roommates protested the invasion of what they considered their bed and fought for possession of it.
"I only remember hearing his voice. I don't think I saw him. He was calling me. And he told me to go to him. And he also asked me... for help."
"Helpβ¦" Ron repeated, frowning. "Help with what? Can't he give us any more clues? I'm getting fed up with this guy... He's a man, isn't he?"
"He's got a... male voice, yes, I suppose," Harry said thoughtfully. "It's very... husky. It's scary," he heard himself admit, staring down at his sheets.
Ron looked at him with a frown still on his face and a grimace of incomprehension on his freckled face.
"How are we going to help him... if we don't know where he is?" he questioned, frustrated, exchanging an annoyed look with his friend. "Shouldn't he start by telling you that?"
Harry made a resigned grimace. Across the room, Dean and Seamus were grunting at each other, finally finding their beds, and allowing Neville to lie down in his.
Hermione snorted as quietly as she could, turning around and going back to the beginning of the bookshelf she had already walked through twice without success. Nothing, there was no sign of the Advanced Rune Translation book she needed for her Ancient Runes essay. In her hand was the piece of parchment on which she had written down the books that Professor Babbling had recommended for the essay, but she had found only three of them. She had gone to Madam Pince to find the first two, but the grumpiness with which the librarian had helped her made her realise that it would be best to find the missing books herself. She looked at the parchment again to make sure she was looking for the right author, and checked that she was.
She scanned the bookshelf again, this time looking more closely at a higher shelf, one she could barely reach. As she had feared, there it was: Yuri Blishen, author of Advanced Rune Translation. She didn't know whether to be glad she'd found it or to curse that it was in the most complicated place.
She stood on tiptoe and stretched out her arm to reach for it, but her fingers barely grazed the underside of its back. She sighed and relaxed her body, rolling her shoulder in an attempt to make it a little more flexible. She brought her feet a little closer together to increase her height and then stretched as far as she could, standing on her tiptoes again. Her fingers reached a centimetre higher, but it was still not enough. Nothing, there was no way. Her fingertips brushed against the fabric of the binding, but she couldn't get a good enough grip to pull it down. Still running her fingers over it, as if she was afraid it was going to slip away, she turned her face to the right, trying to catch a glimpse of a nearby ladder.
"What are Summoning Charms for, know-it-all?"
Hermione startled, and almost lost her balance on the tips of her toes at the sudden voice she heard to her left. She recognised it instantly, but that didn't lessen her surprise. She turned her face to the opposite side, and found Draco Malfoy, staring at her with his arms folded across his chest, barely three feet away. She hadn't heard him coming. She caught herself wondering how he managed to be so silent.
Her heart raced instantly, and her body activated in a state of alertness that was already beginning to feel familiar. Malfoy had approached her. In a public place. Which was synonymous with extreme risk.
He was carrying a thick volume in his hand, and he was looking at her with reluctance and some exasperation. Relaxed. Not looking overly anxious about being discovered. Luckily they were at a safe distance, which reduced any kind of suspicion if anyone saw them. That was probably why he didn't seem overly concerned.
The girl blinked and frowned at his words, trying to compose herself and look as calm as he did.
"Summoning Charms aren't allowed in the Library, you should know that by now," Hermione replied, her tone cold. "Madam Pince says that they can fail and the book would fall to the floor and be ruined."
"Which would be a terrible outcome," Draco muttered mockingly. He snorted and added lazily, as if it were obvious, "That's a stupid rule that no one follows."
"I do. It may seem stupid to you, but it keeps books from getting damaged," she objected, determined.
"And it does cause shoulder dislocations, doesn't it?" he replied, now slyly.
Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, giving it up as impossible. She ignored the boy and renewed her efforts to reach for the precious book, still with her arm raised high above her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Malfoy moving, though he didn't seem to be approaching. When she turned her face to look at him again, she saw that he was pulling his wand out of the inside pocket of his robes. Hermione narrowed her eyes instantly, menacingly. She raised the hand that wasn't reaching for the book and pointed an accusing finger at the boy.
"Don't you dare," she warned him, adamant.
Draco fought her steady gaze for a few long seconds, his eyelids drooping in exasperation. When he saw that she did not relax her scowl, he let out a snort. He put his wand back in his pocket with an impatient gesture and approached the girl, irritated. Hermione felt an emptiness in her stomach at his sudden approach, unprepared for his closeness.
"Get off," he snapped at her, tapping her lightly on the shoulder with the back of his hand. The girl was forced to step back two paces as Malfoy seemed determined to stand where she was, whether she was there or not. He stretched out one of his long arms and it took no effort at all to reach for the book. The height difference β about a head's β with the girl did the rest: in the next moment he was putting it down, leaving it within her reach.
He held it out to her, one eyebrow raised smugly.
"I'd get you a new shoulder, too, but they don't have that around here. Just books."
Hermione pursed her lips at him wearily, reluctantly lifting one corner of her mouth in thanks. Feeling a little self-conscious, not knowing what to say, she took the tattered copy from his hands, and walked back over to the bookshelf to place it in the pile where she had left the other books she needed.
"What do you want it for?" Draco asked then, looking at it quizzically out of the corner of his eye. "That edition is out of date..."
"It's a dictionary of Ancient Runes, and I need it for my Ancient Runes essay," she replied, with a slight note of humour in her voice. "An essay that you also have for homework, in case you don't remember. It's one of the books Professor Babbling recommended."
"You've got to be joking. Are you really going to do the essay Babbling has sent us?" he replied, with scornful cockiness. "What a waste of time. I don't know why I took that stupid subject... They're ancient runes. Ancient. They're out of use. That kind of language is hardly used for anything in this day and age, unless you're doing something very specific related to it..."
Hermione sized him up for a few seconds, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. She knew perfectly well that it was part of the boy's personality to wear that boastful, smug air of superiority, as if nothing mattered to him. As if he thought he was too good to lower himself to do certain things. But at the same time, his complaints always contained sound reasoning. Malfoy was a braggart, and a spoilt child, but he wasn't a fool. He knew what he was talking about, and he argued coherently.
"How are we supposed to know how to use the current runes without knowing the old ones?" she replied, arching an eyebrow. "Knowing where they come from makes it easier to understand. Besides, they are still used for countless things... Translations, comprehension of ancient books, comprehension of spells... According to your logic, we shouldn't be studying History of Magic either. It's obsolete too, isn't it? Why bother studying it?" she questioned, proud of her own reasoning. He did not lower his smug expression one iota.
"I've wondered about that for five years. I'm glad I got rid of it," he replied, sardonically. She snorted, giving it up as impossible. "Replacing it with Alchemy was the best decision of my life," he added then, with satisfaction. Hermione looked at him again, with renewed interest.
"Do you like Alchemy?" she asked in a softer tone, curious, looking at him with her face tilted to one side. Considering the boy's disdainful attitude, to hear that he liked something without reservation was almost a historical fact.
He made a noise of confirmation with his throat, not giving it much thought, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes. Hermione couldn't help but think that he always made that gesture when he talked about something that made him uncomfortable, or about anything remotely personal. Even if it was about a topic as unrevealing as confessing to liking a subject. It was as if he needed to unconsciously protect himself. To hide part of his body so that no one would have access to it, to his inner self.
"It's fascinating," he confessed, staring at the bookshelf beside him, distracted. "Eternal life, the ability to transform metal into gold..." He looked at her again and his eyes glittered with a slight mockery. "Don't tell me that doesn't sound good."
Hermione laughed quietly, just a shake of her chest.
"Too esoteric for me. But it seems to have been invented for you," she joked, drawing another mocking glint from his eyes. "What subjects are you taking?" she asked then, with interest.
"Ancient Runes," he crooned, mischievously. She gave him an annoyed look, wiping away the remnants of her smile. "Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and Alchemy," he said in a calmer tone. She nodded her head thoughtfully.
"The same as me, then, swapping Alchemy for Arithmancy," Hermione informed him, though he hadn't asked her.
Draco made an ambiguous gesture, as if to indicate that it was obvious, and merely scanned her face with his gaze. Then he glanced over her, to the far end of the Library. Hermione glanced over her shoulder and followed his gaze, restlessly glancing at the distant shelves. There was no one to be seen nearby. Would it be suspicious if they were found together, talking? It shouldn't be. Anyone would think they were simply arguing. Until now, she had never considered that such a thing could look suspicious. She'd suffered Malfoy's presence alone many times over the years, mostly when he'd come over to drill her with insults, and it had never occurred to her that anyone would suspect a secret affair from finding them alone together. It would have seemed an utterly ridiculous conclusion. And yet there they were.
"What are you doing here?" the girl then questioned softly, without looking at him, pretending to rearrange her books. Unconsciously trying to make sure that, if anyone saw them, they wouldn't appreciate the closeness between them. "We should be careful. This is quite a public place..."
She heard Malfoy chuckle, much to the girl's surprise. She returned her gaze to him at his reaction, scowling. The boy had lifted the book he was still holding in his hand, leaving it at eye level with her. Hermione stared at it, taking a moment to read the title, and then couldn't hold back an inhalation.
"Why I Didn't Die When the Augurey Cried?" she exclaimed as quietly as she could, astonished. She snatched it out of his hands without thinking, blinded with emotion, and began to leaf through it. "I read it last year, it's great... Are you going to read it?"
"I'm working on it," he clarified, patiently, without catching her excitement. "I've come to get Pince to extend my deadline. I didn't have time to finish it."
"Didn't you say you didn't like history?" she protested, looking at him frowningly. "It's quite a historical book..."
Draco rolled his eyes in exasperation. As if the answer was obvious.
"I like history. What I don't like is the subject. Binns manages to make it an absolute bore."
Hermione shrugged slightly and grimaced in agreement, unable to argue with him.
"Which chapter are you on?" she asked, curious, turning to face the bookshelf, still turning pages at random. In that position, the candle beside her illuminated the pages better.
"When Uric the Oddball hears his fifty Augureys shouting at the same time."
"Oh, that's the best part," the young woman observed, elated. She looked up and stared at him intently, "Do you really think it happened like that?"
"A bit absurd to be true," he opined, without thinking too much about it. "After all, the information for that chapter was taken from an ancient scroll, which in turn was copied from a translation. Plus personal interviews with descendants. Who knows what really happened. Gulliver Pokeby's efforts at thorough research are appreciated, but it's hard to say that it's entirely true."
It took Hermione a few seconds to realise that the young man had finished speaking. She wanted him to keep going. She found his approach to the book's creation fascinating.
"It tends to happen in historical novels, don't you think?" the girl agreed, glancing back at the book with longing. "Especially with the difficulty Pokeby must have had in the 18th century to access information like this..."
"Exactly," he agreed calmly. Hermione felt her heart skip a beat at his agreement. "But, well, whether it's a hundred per cent true or not, it gives us an idea of the mentality of the time. Definitely, until not so long ago, it was believed that the cry of the Augurey foretold death..."
"I confess that, if the same thing had happened to me as to Uric, even I would have doubts. Even if I knew it was just a legend," Hermione admitted, looking at him with a shadow of a smile on her lips. "Do you really think Uric tried to walk through a wall, thinking he was a ghost?" she added, remembering that detail from the book that had amused her so much when she read it.
"I'm sure of it," Draco scoffed, narrowing his eyes. "Let us not underestimate the power of superstition. A wizard like Uric, with the mindset of those years, might have blindly believed he was dead when he heard his Augureys screaming. Without bothering to check. What I don't believe is that he was in that state for a week. Someone must have told him that he was definitely not a ghost. A simple pinch would have helped," Hermione almost choked with a giggle. "Superstition is one thing, facts are another. I sense that they romanticised what happened to make the legend more interesting. And the novel."
"I think the same," the girl said, not even realising she was smiling. Draco arched his eyebrows, almost hiding them under his blond fringe.
"I think I've got a Snidget in my ear," he reported, his tone serious. He put a hand to his ear and turned his face to point it at her, "Can you say that again? Do you think the same?"
Hermione laughed uncontrollably, as quietly as she could. He was right, it was possibly the first time they had ever agreed on anything. And she found it as funny as he did.
"Shut up," she protested, resolutely, smacking him on the arm to get him to move it away from his ear.
With a grudge-laden grin, she lowered her gaze back down to continue to leaf through the book. She did not see the smile that threatened to curve the boy's lips. At that moment, watching her reread his book with complete confidence, Draco realised how unusually comfortable he felt. He was surprised that they had found, almost accidentally, without really trying, a common topic to talk about. Just to chat. Without further pretense. Spontaneously. Even if he was reluctant to accept it, it was a pleasant situation. She seemed relaxed in his company, too, and that was enough to put him at ease. He allowed himself to watch her, to scan the profile in front of him, taking advantage of the fact that Granger wasn't looking at him. It was appealing to look at her while pushing aside the ever-present feeling that he was doing something wrong.
"They're bringing out a reprint next year," Draco reported, scrutinising her bright eyes. Trying to stop thinking. To stop analysing himself. If he thought about it too much, he suspected he'd run out of there. Instead, he took a couple of silent steps towards her. "And the prologue is to be written by Eldred Worple. It can be pre-ordered at Flourish and Blotts from the thirtieth."
"Really? Eldred Worple? Oh, blimey, I'll pre-order it," Hermione murmured, impressed. She was still engrossed in rereading the volume. "I loved his book, Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires. Do you think that in the prologue β ?"
However, before she could finish the question, she felt a warm body pressed against her back. And she found herself going mute with surprise. Cool fingers tangled in the side of her thick hair and pushed it along the nape of her neck and draped it over her opposite shoulder, leaving the other one exposed. His fingertips brushed her neck as he did so. The first thing Hermione noticed was his breath, coming against the perceptive skin of her throat. And then his soft lips. Malfoy dropped his mouth discreetly to the hollow between her neck and shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine from head to toe. Managing to sneak his lips inside the collar of her shirt, reaching her bare skin. A brief contact. Almost unsure. But then one of his hands came into Hermione's field of vision, though it rather partook of her sense of touch, as he wrapped it around her body, resting his forearm on her stomach. His long arm easily encompassed the contours of her waist, and he pulled her almost imperceptibly backwards. Towards him.
"β will he talk about the relationship between Gulliver Pokeby and the Sussex vampires? Yes," Malfoy murmured against the sensitive skin of her neck. "That man only knows about vampires."
Hermione discovered herself smiling, revelling in the moment of connection they had just experienced. Malfoy had just finished her sentence, understood her without even speaking. She noticed her cheeks beginning to heat up, and she wasn't sure if it was from the embarrassingly satisfying feeling of having his body so close, or from the warmth he was radiating. Her pulse raced and she wondered if he would notice it being so close to her neck. He probably would. She felt Draco's mouth move to the back of her neck, her skin now exposed after he'd pushed her hair out of the way. She felt him place another almost nonchalant kiss there, causing her to exhale the air she was holding. She closed her eyes, letting herself go for a few brief moments. The gloom of the aisle minimising her worry of being seen, even though it shouldn't.
She realised that she was imprisoned. Trapped between the bookshelf and the boy's body. Surrounded by his arm. And the young man's lips were still pressed to her skin. She felt him place another distracted, but accurate kiss on the back of her neck, a little lower. A little more decisively. Seemingly more confident as he saw that she wasn't stopping him.
"Hey..." Hermione mumbled, forcing herself to speak. Struggling not to lose her composure at his nearness. "Did you know I was going to be here?"
He snorted against the back of her neck. And his warm breath, against the moisture previously deposited by his lips, ruffled her skin.
"Granger, Granger, Granger..." he crooned, in mock exasperation. "I didn't know, I came for the book. But you're the only person capable of coming to the Library on a Friday afternoon. I knew I'd find you here. You're always here."
Hermione rolled her eyes, patiently assuming that this was the way Malfoy and half of Hogwarts thought of her. But she decided to overlook it as she had more important things to talk to him about.
"Well, I'm glad you found me because... I wanted to talk to you," she admitted, opening her eyes to look at the bookshelf before her. She felt something heavy in her stomach as she ended such an intimate moment. But she needed to do it.
"Did you?" he replied, earnestly now, pulling his face away from her skin and tilting it to the side to try and see her profile.
Hermione turned around inside the arm he was still holding around her stomach so that they were facing each other. She still held the boy's book and held it in front of her chest, crossing her arms over it, almost as an unconscious protection. Like a paper shield. Regaining her composure. Draco released her body, making it easier for her to move, and rested his hands on the low shelf of the bookshelf, on either side of her hips, so that their position was almost like an embrace. He didn't even notice it, though. He was busy analysing her face. Trying to anticipate her words.
"The other day at King's Cross, you seemed a little worried at one point," Hermione commented softly, searching his eyes. "And I think I've figured out why... I don't know if you feel like discussing it with me, though. I don't mean to force you in any way, or push you..." she assured him respectfully, looking at him in the same way.
Draco found himself paralysed then. Paralysed and rigid, almost like a statue. He felt like he was made of granite. He couldn't see himself able to move a muscle in his body. He just stared at her, unable to think of anything to say. His body also forgot to blink.
That was not possible. She definitely couldn't know...
"What are you talking about?" he found himself able to murmur, controlling the tone of his voice until it sounded neutral. Dry and vague. His heart was beating with surprising speed.
"I heard about Crabbe and Goyle," Hermione explained cautiously, looking into his eyes. Her eyes looked stricken. "I heard they didn't come back to Hogwarts after the holidays. That they've left school. That's what you were thinking about at the station, wasn't it? We can... talk about it, if you like. Only if you want to," she added, as gently as she could. Not knowing if she was in a position to offer him such a thing. But she couldn't help it. If there was any chance she could make him feel better, at least get him to vent to her if he really needed to, she wanted to try. She wanted to at least offer it to him. Let him know she was there. For whatever he needed.
Draco again took a couple of seconds to react. And, during that time, the tension in his muscles loosened. As if the invisible hands that clutched him compulsively suddenly released him. He struggled to assimilate the course of the conversation. He definitely hadn't expected it. But the relief that swept through him was monumental.
Thank goodness.
Indeed, Draco had heard it too. Or had discovered it, rather, over the course of the week. He hadn't seen Crabbe or Goyle at the station or on the train, and he knew that Pansy and Zabini, with whom he'd shared a carriage, hadn't seen them either. And, once at the castle, their absence from the dormitory they shared was conspicuous. Their belongings were also missing. Both boys had gone home for Easter, and apparently hadn't returned. Nott had no idea either. As he had spent the holidays at Draco's house, he knew as much as his friend.
Within days, the news had swept through Slytherin House. There were rumours in their Common Room that they had joined the ranks of the Dark Lord, and some people in Slytherin had begun to think of them as heroes. But it was only hearsay, and no one could really confirm it. Draco was almost convinced it was true, though. He knew that they supported the Dark Lord, and also that they were eager to become Death Eaters when they had the chance, given that their parents served the Lord faithfully. But he had no knowledge that they were going to give up their studies. Not even before they had argued had they told him. Or perhaps it had been a recent decision. He had no idea.
He himself had spent the entire week in the company of Lord Voldemort and several of the followers who had sporadically inhabited his home, but he had not heard anyone say anything about it. He longed to know the truth, but it did not seem appropriate to ask his mother by letter. He would find out later.
He hadn't been able to help feeling a quiet uneasiness all week. If Crabbe and Goyle were already serving, and they were undoubtedly close to Voldemort... Would they finally dare to tell him about the time they caught him kissing Granger? No, he really didn't think so. It wasn't so easy to talk to someone like Lord Voldemort. He was deeply intimidated in his presence, and he was far braver than those two greasy louts, it was obvious. Those two wouldn't dare accuse him of anything without sufficient evidence. They had no guts. He was convinced of it.
Draco cleared his throat, not quite sure what to answer. The look in the young woman's eyes had stunned him slightly.
"It seems so," he managed to mumble, shrugging, as if it wasn't really important. "It seems they've decided to leave school, indeed."
"And do you know why? Or what happened?" she questioned, with cautious curiosity. Relieved that he didn't immediately reject her conversation.
"I know as much as you do," Draco replied, half-lying without getting upset. "You know I haven't spoken to them since they caught us. I suppose it's something they've decided recently, they never said anything to me. They've probably given up and realised that they're just as bad at magic as they are at forming complex sentences."
Hermione quirked an exasperated smile at the mockery towards his old bodyguards. But then she frowned, shaking her head, as if it seemed inconceivable.
"What two fools. It's unbelievable that they could do such a thing. They were only a few months away from graduation," Hermione mumbled, apparently astonished that anyone could abandon their studies in such a way. "It's true that N.E.W.T.s aren't always necessary, depending on the career you want to pursue, but anyway... Months," she stressed, emphatically. "And they'd have higher qualifications."
Draco just shrugged, not giving it much thought. He almost smiled at her outrage.
"Do you really think those two care about grades?" he scoffed, reluctantly. Hermione grimaced ambiguously. She looked thoughtful. When she looked back up at him, Draco could see that her eyes looked a little embarrassed.
"You'll never hear me say I'm glad to see anyone leave school halfway through," Hermione began, determinedly, defending herself, "but..." she added later, less forcefully, "I can't deny that it's a relief. At least this way we're free from the risk of anyone in the castle telling anyone about us," she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment in sheer relief. "And we won't be afraid of being caught together again. They were probably the two people we should be most worried about, given that they'd already caught us once."
Malfoy nodded his head a couple of times, distracted. Sharing her relief. Not having to keep an eye on those two, not having to put up with their mere hate-filled presence, was a bloody comfort. He could finally feel at peace in his room.
Hermione returned her eyes to him. Examining his body language, and his face. Trying to read him. His arms were still on either side of her hips, as he leaned his weight on his hands, resting on the shelf of the bookshelf. Hermione felt a sudden desire to caress his arms. Or perhaps his chest, draped in his school uniform, placed before her. To comfort him, if he needed it, with caresses. But she restrained herself. She didn't know how he would react to such a touch from her. And she didn't want to make him uncomfortable.
"So are you all right?" she asked, quietly, looking into his eyes. Studying him. He returned a puzzled look, frowning.
"Me? Why wouldn't I be?" he asked, curtly. Slightly defensive.
"Because they're gone," she specified, cautiously and with an attempt at empathy. "And... because of everything that happened with them. The fact that they stopped talking to you," she was about to add that they also hated him, considered him a traitor and inferior, but she restrained herself. "After all, you were... friends. I haven't asked you until now, but... maybe it hurt you. I don't know."
Draco looked back at her, hesitant. Disoriented at such concern on the young woman's part. She was the only person who had asked him that. Not Nott, not Pansy, not Zabini... He hadn't even stopped to think about it himself. It didn't really... It didn't hurt. He'd always thought of them more as bodyguards than friends. They barely had any conversation, and he'd never been able to trust them to tell them important things. That's what Nott was for. Or Pansy. But he'd known both Crabbe and Goyle since before he'd entered Hogwarts, since they were very young. He'd spent an awful lot of time in their company, and they'd certainly formed a bond over the years. And he couldn't help but feel their absence. A certain loneliness as he walked through the corridors, used to always being backed by those two hulks. He had many memories with them, too many... When the three of them debated over who the Heir to Slytherin could be; when they dressed up as Dementors to scare Potter in his third year during a Quidditch match; when they cheered for Cedric Diggory in his fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament; laughing together at the song 'Weasley is Our King' that he invented; when they took points away from anyone they disliked during the Inquisitorial Squad period...
He had many memories. And he would never have any again.
"Of course not. I don't give a shit," he finally spat firmly, as if it were obvious. "I'm almost glad, they were a liability. Just a couple of brainless gorillas who had my back because it was comfortable for me. Now I'll just have to have my own back."
Hermione stared at him for a moment, and it was a moment so long that he wondered if he had lied so badly that she had discovered the falsity of his words. But the girl said nothing, and merely stared into the distance for a brief moment before speaking again.
"What about Parkinson, could she be a problem? Should we be especially careful that she doesn't notice anything? After finding me in the Hospital..." Hermione remembered, looking slightly more dejected. The left corner of Draco's mouth turned up, mockingly.
"Want to tie up all the loose ends, huh?" Draco scoffed, looking calm. "I told you I'd sort it out. Don't you trust that I have?"
Hermione surprised herself by smiling resignedly. And she couldn't help but look the boy in the eyes with mockery shining in them.
"Let's just say I don't trust you," she teased, smugly. Draco clicked his tongue and shook his head, feigning disappointment.
"That's hard to hear, Granger. That hurts," Draco scoffed, pretending to take a deep breath to get over it. Hermione's grin widened, amused that he'd played along with her joke. Malfoy was funny sometimes. When he wasn't using his acid humour to offend or belittle anyone, he was witty. She was still surprised at how interesting it was to banter together, despite having such different senses of humour. Or maybe they weren't so different after all.
"Are you going to answer me, or shall I get you a tissue to get over it?" she insisted, still smiling. His feignedly distressed face relaxed, and his chest shook in a muted chuckle.
"It's all under control," he finished, speaking seriously again. "Pansy doesn't suspect anything and hasn't brought it up again. And neither has the team. I made up a story with them that I went to give you what you deserved, in case you really meant to attack me in the Hospital."
"Really?" Hermione was surprised. No accusation in her voice. "And what did you do to me?" she questioned with slight irony.
"In case anyone asks, your ears hit the floor and you spent a weekend in the Hospital," Draco revealed, pleased with himself. Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn't hold back a knowing smile, despite herself. "They were only sorry they missed it, but they seem to have been satisfied."
Hermione's smile faltered. She had just remembered what had happened in her Transfiguration class, weeks ago. The incident with Dean's puppy, treacherously turned into a rock so that it could purposely hurt her. She scrutinised Draco for a moment. He didn't seem to know anything about it. She hadn't told him at the time, despite meeting him minutes later. But she'd had other matters to discuss with him. And it didn't seem that his buddies had told him about it either, or surely he would have mentioned it to her. So she decided not to do so now either. It had been a while, and there had been nothing to regret. Maybe... it would worry him. Maybe it would. Or even make him feel bad.
And she... didn't want to do that.
"That's a relief to know," she finished, still musing.
He didn't answer. He took the opportunity to look at her, to scrutinise the details of her expression while she was lost in speculation. The two small wrinkles forming between her brows. How her dark eyes narrowed. How, even narrowed, they flashed in the candlelight as they moved at the same speed as her thoughts. It was an expression of absolute concentration, not even aware that he was looking at her. Or without caring. She was intelligence made person.
Draco, staring into those round, warm eyes, fixed on his chest as she continued to ponder, remembered that he had a job on his hands when she had brought up the subject of Crabbe and Goyle.
Hermione, still lost as she was in thought, inhaled sharply as she felt his head suddenly approach her. His face pressed against hers, but he sidestepped her features, moving directly to the right side of her neck. Burying his face in it. Pressing his mouth to her sensitive skin. Hermione shakily let out the air she had inhaled. She felt Draco move his lips against her skin, almost as if he was kissing her lips. She squirmed helplessly, overwhelmed by the sensation. Feeling the skin on her arms bristle under the robes at the sensitivity of the area. She felt her shoulders tense, restraining herself as best she could from shuddering at his touch. At the ardour of his breath. As the boy took in more of her throat, opening his mouth wider, she felt the hardness of his teeth. A short, faltering moan escaped through the girl's nose. She closed her eyes and felt her face heat up.
"M-Malfoy..." Hermione called, her voice trailing off. Not knowing what for. With nothing to say to him. She just couldn't help herself.
In the next instant, his right hand moved away from the bookshelf and rose to rest on her left cheek. She felt his mouth pull away from her throat. She caught a fleeting glimpse of the blond's grey eyes before his thin lips were covering hers. The boy pressed himself against her, pushing her against the bookshelf. She also had the sudden urge to feel him closer. She reached her hands up to clasp his sides. Pulling him closer. Feeling the contours of his body despite the baggy robes of his uniform. She still held the book in her hands that the young man was going to renew, and she couldn't say how she hadn't dropped it yet. But it didn't stop her from holding on to his body. She felt the boy wrap his free hand around her back. Surrounding her completely like this.
And then Hermione felt something inside her chest slip down to her stomach. She felt a sudden emptiness in it. Suddenly realising what she was doing. She was blatantly snogging in the Library. She, a Prefect. With another Prefect. Against a shelf full of books.
That wasn't right. It wasn't right at all.
Almost shaking with sheer shock, Hermione used the hands she had resting on his sides to push him away from her. Or at least trying to, as he was quite heavy. It took him a moment to react, but he agreed to move his body away. Still without letting go of her face or her back.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked instantly, accusingly, in a low voice. He merely blinked.
"I'd say it's pretty clear," he mumbled, with undisguised irony. Then he added, after a snort, "There's no one around, no one's going to β"
"That's not the point. We're in the Library," she interrupted, determined. Draco didn't blink now.
"That's news... So?" he replied, impatiently. Apparently not understanding the crux of the matter.
"Well, we can't make out in the Library, Malfoy, for God's sake," the girl spat, resolutely, as if it were obvious. "It's not right."
She grabbed his arms and pulled them back away from her body. Not too roughly, not wanting to hurt him, but definitely determined. He dropped them, frowning. Looking more confused and discomfited than annoyed. Hermione moved away from him instantly, stepping out of the gap between his body and the bookshelf to stand to the side, again facing her mountain of books.
Draco turned his body in her direction. He was staring at her in shock.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, in amazement. "What does that have to do with β ?"
"That we're in the Library," she repeated, interrupting him, as if that answered his question.
"And that's a problem?" he spat, more emphatically. Slurring his syllables.
"Of course it is!" Hermione blurted as quietly as she could, turning her face to look at him. "We... we can't do this. We are Prefects. It's our duty to set an example. Two days ago β" she interrupted herself to take a breath, choking slightly on her nervousness, "two days ago I had to punish two fifth-year students for precisely what we're doing. I can't do it now. It's against the rules."
She fell silent, upset, staring him straight in the eye. Uneasy, but firm. Waiting for his reaction. Draco frowned in disbelief.
"I don't understand what you're fussing about. People do far worse things than make out in the Library," he mumbled, listlessly. Hermione felt the heat in her cheeks rise, but she didn't look away. "It's no big deal."
"Maybe it isn't," she muttered coldly. "But I don't think it's appropriate. It's not a proper place. People come here to study. Wouldn't it bother you to go into an aisle to look for a book and find a couple... groping each other?" she protested, as if that settled the question. As if it was an inconceivable situation. Draco arched an eyebrow.
"If they were making out right on top of the book I was looking for, I'd tell them to back off a bit," the boy scoffed, unperturbed, crossing his arms. "If not, I'd just walk away to give them privacy."
Hermione snorted, shocked.
"You are Prefect," she reminded him, accusingly. "It is your duty to enforce the rules. And the Library's rules are very clear. It's common sense."
"I'm not going to punish two students for snogging for a few minutes," he replied, as if he considered it ridiculous. Hermione looked at him with anger in her eyes. Outraged at how little importance he gave to such a situation.
"Well, that's fine. Do as you see fit. But I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to snog in a library as if..., as if..." she defended herself with renewed abruptness, not really thinking about it. Her mouth articulating faster than she could reflect.
"As if what?" Draco protested then. And his voice suddenly sounded tremendously cold. So much so that the girl almost thought she felt a wave of icy air rush through her. His pointed face suddenly looked impassive. And his jaws clenched as soon as he finished the sentence.
"You know what I mean," she excused herself, unperturbed, not budging. She stopped looking at him and went back to tidying up her books, even though she didn't have to.
"No, I don't know. Explain it to me," he demanded in his turn, his voice harsher.
"Oh, please, could you not make it all so complicated?" Hermione pleaded jadedly, roughly placing one of the books on top of the mountain.
He didn't respond to that. Hermione stopped her movements, and found herself breathing heavily, her eyes fixed on the bookshelf in front of her. She gulped to loosen the pain in her throat. She felt offended, frustrated, and annoyed. And there was a significant stinging behind her eyes. Dead angry at how quickly the situation had gone wrong. How pleasant the earlier conversation had been, so serene, so intimate...
They were in a Library, a sanctuary for study and silence. And she didn't want to disturb the solemnity of the place. It just didn't seem appropriate. She didn't feel comfortable. She didn't like to break the rules. She herself used to continually call attention to students who did so. It seemed an insult to her own morality to do the same. She had been made Prefect because the teachers trusted her. And she didn't want to betray that trust. Besides, it was all too new. She had never done anything like this before. Sharing kisses with such passion, in a place where it was forbidden to do so... It felt too far from her way of being. And the sense of duty won out over her, even though she wanted to share kisses with that boy with all her might, of course.
It was clear that Malfoy would be bothered by such an attitude. She took it for granted. He was likely to leave at any moment, angry and frustrated. Perhaps regretting having started a relationship with a girl who made it so difficult for him. Who robbed him of moments of pleasure for reasons he considered puerile. But she didn't care. She had no intention of doing anything that would make her feel uncomfortable.
Hermione heard footsteps to her left. She looked up, her heart racing, and caught a glimpse of a boy younger than her crossing at the end of the aisle. He didn't look in her direction. The girl forced herself to take a deep breath as soon as he was out of sight, having held her breath until then.
Then she heard Draco snort at her back. Hermione tensed her shoulders, ready to continue defending her point tooth and nail.
"If you don't want us to kiss here, I'm not going to force you," he said then, his irritation evident. But with an unusual seriousness in his voice. "It would not have crossed my mind to do so, and you behave as if you thought me capable of it. If there's anything you don't want to do, just tell me. It's not that complicated."
Hermione stopped moving her books instantly, freezing. She then felt movement to her right, and sensed Draco's body settle close to her. He had leaned his lower back against the shelf of the bookshelf where she had been standing before. Hermione turned her face, just slightly, to get a better look at him. His arms were firmly folded, his eyes fixed on the floor, his face unperturbed. Though there was a subtle line drawn between his eyebrows.
But he hadn't left.
Hermione was slow to come to terms with the situation. She hadn't expected him to be so reasonable. So respectful. That he would stay by her side. She had thought she would need to insist on her position, for she had been sure he would rebel to get what he wanted. To regain that time of pleasure with her. It was what his arrogant, spoiled personality suggested. But she had made a mistake. And she realised that he was right. She had been overly defensive with him. Needlessly.
She felt something tighten in her chest. Seeing everything from a new perspective. Was it really such a terrible act to share a few kisses there with him? Suddenly it didn't seem so inappropriate... They weren't really doing anything wrong. They weren't hurting anyone.
They were just... showing their feelings.
Hermione turned fully towards him.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice weak but clear. He glanced sideways at her, his grey eyes shining like liquid silver in the gloom. "And I'm sorry. You're right, I was very abrupt. I guess I didn't expect you to understand. I didn't think you'd behave so respectfully... I misjudged you."
Draco was slow to register such words. And he seemed unable to say anything when he did. He didn't even change his expression at first. The young woman sensed that he didn't know exactly what to say. Perhaps he had never been told such a thing before. Perhaps no one had ever appreciated that quality in him.
Finally, Draco let out a sharp snort, as if it had been funny. He looked away from her, returning his gaze to the front. Trying to look bored.
"Rumour has it that I'm nominated for the Order of Merlin, First Class, for my exceptional acts of being respectful," he sneered deadly serious, not looking at her.
Hermione surprised herself by stretching her lips into a smile. Appreciating the tone of humour he had used. The sarcastic humour he always used when he didn't know how to react. When he didn't know how to respond sincerely to a compliment, or when he felt uncomfortable.
She had really misjudged him. She had deduced the attitude he would take based on how he had treated her in the past. Based on the insults and put-downs of the past. Always behaving as if he was superior, as if he could do as he pleased with everyone around him. But now some things had changed. Now there was something between them.
They had never had familiarity of any kind, so she wasn't sure what Malfoy was really like. What he was like beyond his disdainful, spoiled faΓ§ade. What he was like with someone he liked, someone he cared about.
She was slowly getting to know him. They were both getting to know each other. And she liked what she was discovering.
'If there's anything you don't want to do, just tell me.'
The girl walked the two steps that separated them, until she was at his side. No hint of shame shining in her eyes. With composure. She placed a hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently. She felt his musculature tense from the tightness with which he was crossing his arms. He didn't move, just locked his eyes on hers. She used his forearm as a foothold, stood on tiptoe and kissed him gingerly on the lips. She broke away after three seconds, troubled but determined, still maintaining her closeness. Draco looked into her eyes, slowly shifting from one to the other as he uncrossed his arms. After a moment's hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her back, briefly. Kissing her more firmly, but still leaving his lips on hers. For several seconds longer.
He pulled away from her again, without moving too far away. She wasn't trying to push him away, as she had done minutes ago. He frowned, feeling confused, and not liking feeling that way.
"I thought you didn't want to β" he tried to say, attempting to sound unperturbed.
"I know," she replied determinedly, looking him in the eye, and not letting him continue. "But I think you're right. We're not really doing anything wrong."
Draco just looked at her. And Hermione read in his eyes what was already going through her own mind. That they were doing something wrong. In so many ways. But they didn't care.
Hermione tiptoed back up to kiss him. She pressed herself against him slightly, resting her hands on his chest, and unintentionally pushing him against the bookshelf where he still had his back resting. To her own surprise, she discovered that she was still holding the boy's book in her hands. She had completely forgotten about its existence. Resigning herself to it, she pressed it against his chest as well, not bothering to put it aside. Draco lowered his hands and rested them on her lower back. Gently pulling her to him. Hermione felt her heart flutter as she felt Draco's hands on her body, holding her close, while her own hands rested on his rigid chest. She moved her lips against his, revelling in the familiarity of his mouth. Letting him establish a rhythm. Lost in the wonders of his kiss. It was slow, but impetuous. Forceful. Delirious. She wondered if their heaving breaths would be heard amidst the silence. If anyone would appreciate the wet sounds of their mouths meeting. But she didn't care. She didn't want to stop. Not even to breathe.
It was when Hermione surprised herself by parting her lips to meet his ardent tongue that she heard the sudden sound of soft whispers. Definitely very close. And Draco heard it too. They broke apart instantly, in unison, agitated and heated. They turned their faces in the direction they had heard the voices, startled. At the end of the aisle, they saw two unfamiliar girls, from some lower year, pass by and slip into the adjoining aisle, oblivious to them. They were talking in an unconcerned, low voice, muffled in the silence of the place. They had not looked in their direction. They didn't seem to have seen them.
Hermione, breathing hard, and feeling her cheeks flame, returned her gaze to Draco's eyes and took another step away from him, giving him more space. His back was still leaning against the bookshelf, still casting wary glances at the area through which the girls had disappeared. Hermione gulped. Had she really... cornered him against the bookshelf?
The girl tried to catch her breath to whisper:
"We're taking too big a risk. Anyone could see us here. Maybe someone we know. And they could appear from anywhere." Just as she finished her hesitant sentence, there was the distant sound of doors opening and closing. As if confirming her words. He averted his gaze again in the direction of the end of the aisle, and back to her, before merely nodding.
They barely had time to glance at each other when they heard footsteps in the central aisle again. Hermione turned in that direction, and felt the world fall away from her as she saw Parvati Patil appear, several books in her hands, looking around. Looking for something. Hermione hurriedly scanned her own position. Standing near the bookshelf, facing a Draco Malfoy leaning against it. Both with unsteady breaths.
She and Draco synchronised instantly, without needing to speak. Hermione took two steps away to stand between Malfoy and Parvati, trying to hide the boy from her line of sight. She faced the bookshelf, trying in vain to readjust the temperature of her face, and pretending to run her finger along the spines of the books to give the impression that she was looking for a particular one. Draco also took two steps away from her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye seconds later and saw that he had also faced the bookshelf. But at a safe distance. Which the girl thought was very smart. If he had tried to rush out of the aisle, it would have been more conspicuous.
Parvati then turned her face in their direction. Or so Hermione sensed, her gaze fixed stubbornly on the bookshelf, for she heard her companion's footsteps approaching. And it wasn't long before she saw her blurry outline approaching from the edge of her field of vision.
"Hermione," Parvati greeted in a hushed exclamation when she was still several feet away. "Good to see you. Neville told me he saw you here a while ago. He's at the tables at the front, by the way, I don't know if you've seen him..."
Hermione's eyes widened exaggeratedly, pretending to be surprised to see her. Inwardly regretting the realisation that she was a lousy actress. She gave a wide smile, the most natural smile she could muster, and turned to face her as she finished moving closer. Hermione's back was to Malfoy. Heart still beating wildly. Praying that her face didn't show that she still had Draco's taste on her lips. And that, by the way, she felt them tingle from the passionate kiss. Wondering in sudden panic if that detail would be visible, or if it would be revealing...
And then Hermione realised it again. She noticed that her fingers were still gripping it. She was holding Draco's book in her hands. The book Why I Didn't Die When the Augurey Cried?
Shit.
"Hi, Parvati," she replied, widening her smile to an even more radiant one. Placing both hands behind her back hurriedly, holding the book in them before the girl could see it. "What did you want me for?"
To her own relief, she felt it disappear from her hands instantly. With a swift and accurate tug, Draco had retrieved his book. Quietly. At least Parvati, stopping at last in front of the girl, didn't seem to have noticed anything. She was still smiling.
"My sister is looking for the book that Professor Vector recommended. The one written by Wakefield. Pince told us it was in the Library, but we couldn't find it, and she was in a very bad mood, so we didn't ask for it again," said the girl, looking hurried. "And we thought maybe you might have it..."
"Yes, that's true, Pince was in a bad mood with me too," Hermione commented, giggling histrionically, and pretending to tuck in the waistband of her skirt to justify putting her hands behind her back. "I don't know why..."
"She caught Zacharias Smith eating chocolate a while ago," Parvati revealed, with a small smile. "That's probably why..."
"Mystery solved then..." Hermione laughed again, this time more naturally. She felt Draco move behind her and walk over to the bookshelf in front of them. She couldn't help but turn her eyes towards him as he entered her field of vision. The boy was examining the shelf looking believably focused, oblivious to them, and she saw him pick up a couple of volumes. Probably at random. She had to restrain herself from smiling. "Well, I don't have it, I'm sorry. Have you seen anyone else who studies Arithmancy around here?" she asked, returning her gaze to her classmate.
But Parvati had followed her gaze and was now staring at Malfoy's back. Seriously. Hermione felt herself freeze. And she almost couldn't help but open her eyes wide in fright for a brief moment. Oh, my God...
After barely two seconds, she looked back at Hermione, who couldn't make up her mind on what expression to make. Parvati then looked at her with a knowing expression, her eyelids drooping and her eyebrows arched. And she smirked with disdain. Looking overtly unenthusiastic about Draco's presence. As if she was sure Hermione would share her resigned discomfort at someone as disliked by them as Draco was.
And Hermione breathed again. She gave a nervous, almost apprehensive smile, managing a knowing look on her face.
"Well, no," Parvati resumed the conversation, casually. "We haven't seen anyone else taking Arithmancy... Never mind, we'll come again tomorrow and see if we can find it. The essay isn't due until Tuesday, I think."
"That's right. That's a good idea. Maybe it's lost in a trolley somewhere... Madam Pince is sure to sort it all out tonight," Hermione agreed empathetically.
And then she looked back at Draco. He was walking down the aisle, behind Parvati's back, with several books in his hands. Though she tried not to, Hermione's nervous eyes didn't respond with their usual reflexes, and they followed him over her classmate's shoulder. At the end of the aisle, before rounding the corner, Draco turned his pointed face over his shoulder. Managing to meet her eyes almost instantly. The boy's eyes glinted with complicity. Almost mischievous. It was such a fleeting glimpse, before he disappeared around the corner, that Hermione didn't have time to appreciate whether he had a biting smile on his mouth or not. But she did see him leave the books he'd picked up while he was dissembling abandoned on a shelf.
"Are you going to stay and study?" she heard Parvati say then, before her. She fixed her eyes on her roommate again, struggling to focus. "I'm sitting with Lavender and my sister, do you want to come with us? Are you alone?"
Hermione managed to muster what seemed to her to be her most believable smile yet.
"Thank you, but I'm going back to the Common Room. I'm meeting Harry and Ron there. I was just coming to take some books..."
"All right," agreed the girl, with a smile. "See you in the evening, then. And thanks for your help. If you find the book, let me know, okay?"
Hermione waved goodbye and watched her walk away.
Once she was alone in the middle of the aisle, she leaned her back against the bookshelf, allowing herself to relax. She deserved it. She looked around and located her books, right next to her. She estimated that she had placed herself in the spot Draco had occupied minutes before. While she kissed him. She put a hand to her throat and checked her pulse. It was through the roof. She smiled, self-consciously, and bit her lower lip. It felt more sensitive and warmer than usual, probably because of the recent kisses shared with the boy.
Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to break the rules slightly from time to time. Even if it wasn't a matter of life and death, like the vast majority of times she'd broken them in the past with Harry and Ron. Even if it wasn't to save the wizarding world. They were breaking a thousand rules by being together. It didn't really matter if they broke one more. They weren't hurting anyone.
She allowed herself to enjoy the moment, to enjoy the sensations that came over her. She allowed herself to feel floating. And not to feel guilty, as she always did after seeing Malfoy. This time, she simply allowed herself to be attracted to him. As if she was allowed to.
"If we keep taking risks like this, I'm going to have a heart attack before the end of the term," she thought, smiling to herself, resigned. "I'll kill him if I die before I can do the N.E.W.T.s."
"Come on, everyone, finish setting up the telescopes..." pleaded Professor Sinistra, as she paced impatiently around the Astronomy Tower behind her students.
They were chattering listlessly, in continuous murmurs, as they set up the parts of their telescopes at an alarmingly slow speed. They were also moving lazily between their seats, helping each other. It was already midnight, and just as in previous years they had not found it at all difficult to attend Astronomy, this year it was proving particularly hard. They were exhausted. They had never had to study so hard during the day, and by midnight the vast majority of them were sleeping under normal conditions.
The N.E.W.T.s were threatening to finish them off.
Yawning was the order of the day.
"Fuck off, Zabini," Draco snarled, feeling his own mouth open in an uncontrollable hippopotamus yawn, forcing him to close his eyes tightly and stop his hand, halfway to placing one of the telescope's supporting legs. Blaise, next to him, had just let out a similar yawn, perhaps a more disguised one, inevitably rubbing off on him.
"It was Nott's fault..." he protested, blinking away the moisture from his black eyes, pointing his thumb at the person on the other side of him. Theodore had already finished setting up the telescope and seemed to be nodding off in his chair, waiting for the class to begin.
"Well, fuck Nott," Draco corrected grumpily, as soon as he could close his mouth again and utter a few words. He shook his head slightly to wake himself up, and opened the lens case to take out the one the teacher had told them they would need. The only illumination on the round, wide outdoor balcony that constituted their classroom, surrounded by a low stone wall, were two lamps on either side of the entrance door to the tower, which would be extinguished as soon as the class began. Leaving them in a dangerous and drowsy near-total night-time darkness.
Draco, finishing fitting the lens, suddenly felt a presence behind him. Instantly, slender arms wrapped around him from behind, imprisoning his arms, and he felt a small body press against him in a tight hug.
Draco's sleepy body was instantly filled with adrenaline, and he actually felt himself awaken with a start. Granger's presence, several seats away from him, came to his mind, and he couldn't help but get the terrifying feeling that she had to be the one hugging him like that. Which, obviously, was impossible. They were in the middle of a brightly lit classroom, surrounded by their classmates. Granger couldn't be doing such a thing in public. They would be caught immediately.
Openly confused, he turned his head slightly, trying to see behind him. A long strand of blonde hair swayed near his ear, and Draco discovered the identity of his mysterious companion instantly.
"Greengrass," he greeted, softly and somewhat quizzically. "What are you doing? That's your boyfriend over there. That scrawny, sleep-dead creature..." he pointed awkwardly, as the girl continued to wrap her arms around him, in the direction of the increasingly bent figure that corresponded to a sound asleep Theodore.
He heard Daphne laugh merrily in his ear, not releasing him. The girl leaned over his shoulder and turned her face to press a firm kiss to his left cheek.
"I know. I wanted to thank you for leaving us your room last night," she explained in a whisper, still against his cheek. "I know Blaise was supposed to be with the team, but Theodore told me that you weren't going with them. That you only went so we could have the room to ourselves. So thank you," she kissed his cheek again.
Draco gave a smug smile. She was right. The night before, Draco had come up with what he had thought was a brilliant idea. Nott and Daphne had been a couple for months, and yet Draco was sure they still hadn't been able to spend a night together. At least not in a bed, like a normal couple. It was one of the drawbacks of the layout of the bedrooms in the castle, boys on one side and girls on the other. It was also obvious that they wouldn't have been comfortable in the dormitory as it had always been, with Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle and himself in the adjoining beds. But now it was just Zabini and himself. And it wouldn't be at all unreasonable for them to spend the night out, getting into some sort of trouble. Nott could have the bedroom free for him and Daphne for at least a few hours. Taking advantage of the fact that Blaise had arranged to meet up with Bletchley, Pucey and Montague to go and do some late night mischief around the castle, which included a visit to the kitchens, Draco decided to join them even though he wasn't looking forward to it. But then Daphne and Theodore would have some private time. When Draco told Nott about his idea, Nott, sporting a blush that could rival a beetroot, thanked him and accepted his offer almost instantly, trying unsuccessfully to appear unperturbed.
Draco thought at the time, mordantly, that this explained the sleepiness that was now evident in his friend. Surely he hadn't had much sleep the night before. And, judging by the girl's effusive thanks, the night had gone very well.
He lifted one of his hands and patted the forearm Daphne held across his chest.
"It was nothing," he assured her, cockily, also in a low voice so that only she could hear. "My only demand is that you don't even think of giving me any details of what happened. Nott is like my brother, I find it almost incestuous to know how he does in bed. Oh, and if I find out you're anywhere near mine, no more bargain."
Daphne laughed loudly again, close to his ear. She squeezed him tighter in her arms, whispering a final 'thank you', and then pulled away from him, back to her place. Draco turned his face over his shoulder to exchange a knowing glance with her, before she moved away entirely.
"Come on, Longbottom, Merlin's beard, we don't have all night," Draco heard Blaise say next to him then. With open desperation. "Set up the bloody telescope. I want to go to bed..."
The young Malfoy turned his face the other way and looked at Neville, sitting next to him, much to the young Gryffindor's chagrin, struggling with the level of his telescope. He couldn't get it to stay at the right height to see over the wall. Apparently, the mount of his telescope was broken, and it was falling almost to the floor over and over again.
Draco, feeling more awake, gave a grin laden with evil intent.
"Bloody hell, Longbottom. If everything about you works just like that telescope..."
Neville grimaced angrily, still trying to fix his utensil's failure with slight desperation.
"Shut up, Malfoy," he growled through his teeth, so the teacher wouldn't hear him.
"Confirmed, his bloodline will die with him," Draco said theatrically, holding a hand to his chest, pretending to be sorry. Zabini burst out laughing.
"Mind your own business," Neville repeated, in a dry whisper.
"Can you speak up? I can't hear your one brain cell..."
"He told you to shut up, Malfoy," Ron Weasley added instantly, sitting on the other side of Neville. Giving the blond a look of undisguised contempt. Draco gave him a venomous grin.
"You won't have the same luck, Weasley. Your bloodline breeds, and breeds... and breeds again," he added, mockingly and emphatically. Ron raised his middle finger at him, taking advantage of the fact that the teacher couldn't see him, but Draco continued, maliciously, "In fact, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is thinking of declaring you Weasleys a protected β "
His voice trailed off. Abruptly. As if someone had put their hand over his mouth.
He had met Granger's eyes.
She was sitting on the other side of Weasley, listening intently to the absurd insults they were exchanging. Looking over her shoulder at them. Her eyes locked on Draco's. Her face was serene. Serious. Almost impassive. Draco didn't see the accusation in her eyes, but he didn't need to. He understood perfectly.
'If you hurt Ron again, or any of my friends, this, what's between us, will end. I won't stand for it.'
"Finish that sentence, Malfoy," Ron dared him, motioning to get up from his chair. Harry, on the other side of Hermione, was also watching the scene intently. Ready to intervene.
"Leave him, Ron, this isn't the time," Neville muttered, finally getting the telescope stand in place.
Draco swallowed hard and gritted his teeth. Feeling the frustration building in his throat... Finally, he realised that he couldn't do it. He couldn't go on. Not at the cost of... what Granger and he had. She was determined, and he knew she was serious in her warning.
He moistened his lips and gave his best wicked grin again.
"Anyway, Weasley, I've said a sentence too long. I'll give you time to digest it. Continue with your chores..."
And, without giving him a chance to reply, he turned back to his own telescope, pretending to reposition some of his assembly. He noticed that Blaise seemed to want to say something to him, apparently frustrated at how little he had annoyed the young Weasley.
"Zabini, can I borrow your sextant for a moment? I want to check something," Draco asked, cutting him off, ending the discussion. Blaise nodded distractedly, forgetting about Ron, and reached out to hand the object to his friend.
"Well, we're all ready now. Let's begin," called Professor Sinistra to order, with visible relief. With a flick of her wand, the two lamps were extinguished and the tower was plunged into thick darkness. A snore was heard from Nott, awakening with a start. "Open the map we've been working on for the last few days. Have your sextants ready. Tonight, Saturn's position is especially visible, so we'll be working with it to measure its cosmic age. If you have trouble locating it, don't hesitate to ask me. Remember that planets are characteristically bright and uninterrupted, and do not flicker, unlike stars."
Draco, with Granger's gaze still hovering in his mind, took a breath and let it out steadily, trying to relax and focus on the class. He felt strangely stressed. He concentrated on fumbling to unroll the map they'd been working with for a couple of weeks, on which he'd already noted the cosmic ages of Mars and Jupiter. He rather liked Astronomy, it was one of the few subjects he found interesting that year, and one he enjoyed paying attention to.
The darkness was almost complete, and his eyes took some time to get used to the subtle glow of the sky. The night was almost completely cloudless, thankfully. At this altitude, being in the highest tower of the castle, there was no possible illumination from inside the school escaping through the glass windows. So they could see all kinds of celestial bodies clearly. Everything around him then became mere dark outlines, both the telescope in front of him and his classmates on either side of him, about a metre away from each other. When Professor Sinistra finished her explanation, the murmurs once again took over the Astronomy Tower. It was a strange sensation, hearing twenty pairs of voices in the middle of the darkness. It felt almost as if he was hearing them inside his head.
The boy put one eye to his telescope, closing the other, and tried to locate the planet Saturn, moving the tube and adjusting the focuser.
"Professor," he heard Pansy's voice after a while, almost on the other side of the tower, "can you help me? I'm not sure if I've located it..."
"Me neither," said Millicent's voice, probably sitting close to Pansy.
Draco heard Sinistra's booties approaching her friend, and moving away from him for that matter. He kept moving his telescope, his eye on the eyepiece. There were some clouds in areas close to where the planet should be. He hoped they wouldn't move quickly that night, blocking his view of it any time soon.
"Dean," he heard a voice he was sure belonged to Seamus Finnigan on his right. "Help me with this, come on... I think it's a bit loose."
Draco heard a chair shuffle, and probably Dean Thomas's footsteps advancing cautiously towards his friend in the darkness. That was quite common. Normally, besides asking the teacher for help, students tended to help each other with little things.
Saturn. There it was. Draco gave himself a satisfied smile. He adjusted the focuser, but it was slightly blurry. He pulled his eye away from the lens and blinked, thinking that maybe it was because he had been straining his eyes for so long. But when he looked again, he still couldn't see it too clearly. He pursed his lips. Should he put in another lens...?
He averted his eye again and scanned the darkness at his feet for his bag, ready to give it a try. It was then that he discovered a new shadow beside him. A darker outline than what was around him. Right next to him. In the gap between his seat and Longbottom's. Draco turned his face, startled, wondering why someone had approached him. And who it was. Was someone trying to rob him in the dark? Bloody Gryffindors...
But then the figure crouched down beside him, standing lower than him even when he was sitting down. There was something strange about that shadow. The part that corresponded to its head wasn't circular, but jumbled, uneven, as if it were surrounded by smoke.
Wait a minute...
Draco, petrified, then felt a small hand rest on his chest. Touching it. Locating him in the darkness. He inhaled sharply at the unexpected contact, though thankfully barely audibly. Bewildered, he didn't move. Wait a fucking minute...
Then the hand moved up, seeking his neck, in a firm yet subtle caress. It raised goose bumps all over his body. It reached his cheek, and Draco felt a spark. He felt it cover it gently. Another hand touched him then, locating his knee over his robes, then the top of his thigh. Draco gasped again, though this time it was completely silent. He felt the shadow, the uneven outline, move closer to his face.
And then he felt its lips cover his.
It was Granger.
Draco almost felt dizzy. His brain stopped working. It shut down, just shut down. Her mouth groped for his, finding his lips somewhat awkwardly amidst the thick darkness. Then she secured the kiss once she had succeeded. In a rushed way, in a quick way. In the middle of the night. Emphasising each and every one of his other senses, deprived of vision. Draco's hands trembled. He forgot if he was holding anything, because at that moment, he certainly wasn't. Granger's lips trailed across his, as he felt her hot breath leave her nose, crashing against his face. She was nervous. She was revved up. She was full of adrenaline. But she was kissing him. In front of everyone. In the middle of a classroom. In the middle of the dark.
And she had her hand resting on his thigh. She hadn't moved it, possibly she was just supporting herself, or maybe just locating him in the dark, but it was on his thigh.
This girl meant to kill him.
He leaned over her impulsively, lowering himself to be closer, without thinking. Sinking deeper into her mouth. Wanting to take as much of her as possible. Trying not to let out a moan that bubbled in his throat. The growl he had to swallow as he felt her bite his bottom lip.
Draco then searched for her face. He touched the area where he assumed her cheek would be. He managed to find her ear with his palm, tangle her hair in his fingers. Pulling her closer to him. He could feel the wetness of her mouth, the soft flesh of her lips between his teeth... Hermione panted against his mouth uncontrollably, ever so faintly, and Draco was aware then of how risky what they were doing was. If anyone heard anything... If anyone even thought to look in their direction, despite the darkness...
Draco then felt the girl's hand tangle with his own, in his lap. He felt the roughness of a crumpled piece of parchment against his palm. And suddenly Granger was pulling away from him, releasing his lips, releasing his face. She stood up, or so he supposed, for he sensed the outline of her body higher than before. And she was gone, silent, in less than a second. Taking his breath with her.
The boy tried to gulp and turned towards his telescope again, purely out of inertia. As if he could disguise what had just happened. Hide the fact that he was gasping for breath. He had completely forgotten which planet they were supposed to be studying. He couldn't think of anything. And he wasn't surprised either. There was no way blood was rushing to his head.
Fuck.
He was thankful he was still sitting, because his legs were tingling. Blessed wide robes. Blessed darkness. He tried to take a breath, and relax his breathing, so that no one would notice. May lightning strike him down if that hadn't been the most passionate thing he'd ever experienced in his whole fucking life.
Heart still pounding against his Adam's apple, he bent down to locate his bag, feeling the thick fabric, and dropped the note Granger had given him inside. He would have to read it later, too dark now to discern anything. At the moment, the notes idea was working well. He'd sent her one days ago, in Transfiguration class, with the help of magic. A note in the shape of a cat that Hermione found hilariously similar to her pet, and thanks to which they managed to see each other behind the greenhouses after class. Surely with that new note she was summoning him to meet her somewhere. A place he would, of course, go.
He put his hand back on the telescope, making an effort to concentrate, when a sudden light to his right, suddenly allowing him to see everything around him, startled him. He turned his face to find that Ron Weasley had lit his wand so that he could search inside his bag for something. Creating a subtle light that broke through the total darkness of the tower, almost hurting their sight.
Draco forced himself not to look at Granger, obediently sitting back among her friends. He felt the adrenaline tingle inside his bones. If Weasley had turned on the light thirty seconds earlier...
He looked down at his scroll, fighting against his own racing body. A smug smile curved his thin lips. Satisfied. They were still getting away with it. They were taking risks again and again, in front of everyone, without getting caught. Risking everything. So forbidden... so fucking exciting.
Saturn. They were studying the planet Saturn. Taking a last breath of air, he pressed his eye to the telescope.
He was no longer the least bit sleepy.
