Draco
Throughout the day, Hermione tactfully avoids any mention of the ball. While the air buzzes with the excited chatter of other girls making plans, Hermione steers our conversations toward discussions about our academic courses and the theories surrounding our side project.
For me, the prospect of attending the ball is far from appealing. The memory of the previous ball's lackluster nature and the danger Hermione faced is more than enough reason not to go. However, if Hermione decides to go, I'll inevitably find myself attending. It's not just a sense of duty; it's a protective instinct, a need to keep a watchful eye on her to ensure her safety.
Also, she would be paraded on someone else's arm and it triggers a deep, primal response from my alpha. A possessive growl reverberates within, insisting that if there's any arm she should be on, it's mine.
We find ourselves seated at the end of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall with lively chatter and clinking of cutlery filling the air. I steal a glance at Hermione, her eyes far away while she absently brings her fork to her mouth.
"Hermione," I say, leaning in slightly to catch her attention. "Is there something on your mind?"
She blinks a few times before meeting my gaze with a faint smile on her face. "Just coursework. I think it might be a late night in the library."
"I'll keep you company," I offer. Bring snacks and coffee…
"You sure?" She arches a brow, a hint of skepticism in her expression.
"I am," I hum, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "I need to get ahead in muggle studies."
Her eyes brighten, "Do you need any help with that?"
"Might have a few questions," I laugh, setting my cup down.
"I want to change into cozier clothes and maybe take a nap… want to meet me in the library at 7:00?" She says as she stands.
With a nod, I rise from my seat. "Sounds good. Let me walk you back to the tower."
Once we reach the staircase, I instinctively take her books from her. I can tell she's tired but she looks much better after this heat than the last one.
"Thanks," she mumbles, and we navigate the familiar path in comfortable silence.
As we arrive at the corridor with the Fat Lady's portrait, I hand her textbooks back. "Do you want me to meet you here to walk to the library?" I ask, casually leaning against the stone wall.
She hums in thought. "No, I'll meet you there."
"You sure?" My concern for her well-being makes the question instinctual.
"I am," she reassures me with a smile. "See you." She leans in, pressing a light kiss on my cheek, and with that, we part ways.
Hermione
I collapse onto my bed with an audible groan, my face buried in the softness of my pillow. The only interruption to my moment of frustration is a loud 'mrow,' prompting me to lift my head and meet the cute, orange face of Crookshanks.
"Draco caught me daydreaming about the things we did... I didn't even mean to. I was just enjoying his scent and his presence when..." My whisper trails off, and the vivid images flash through my mind again—the way he made me feel. A quiet whine escapes me as I bury my face back into the comforting embrace of my pillow again.
I wish I had been brave enough to kiss his lips rather than his cheek. Kissing him has been all I have been thinking about all day. Any time his eyes locked onto mine, a silent wish flickered within me—hoping that he would lean in and steal a kiss, much like the way he effortlessly entwines our pinkies when we walk together. A sigh of longing escapes my lips, and I shift, seeking solace in the comfort of my nest. As I doze off, I reach out to pull my familiar close to my chest, finding a sense of warmth and security in Crookshanks' cuddles.
As I wake up from my nap, my dreams of Draco and I linger in my mind. The familiar weight of Crookshanks by my side reassures me, and I slowly stretch before sitting up in my nest. With a yawn, I decide to change into something cozier for the evening study session with Draco. Slipping out of my robes, I opt for soft leggings and an oversized jumper that offers both warmth and comfort and I pull my unruly curls up in a scrunchy. As I gather my belongings and head towards the library, my thoughts drift to the ball.
The mere thought of the upcoming ball draws an exasperated sigh from me. The only way that that would be enjoyable is if I went with Draco. Not only would I enjoy being with him for the night but I would be able to truly enjoy the night knowing he wouldn't let me get hurt. But why would he ask me? That would be an insanely public thing for us to do.
It's one thing to be private in our—well, whatever we are—shared moments, but to venture into the spotlight of a public event feels like an entirely different realm. I'm not entirely sure either of us are ready to answer in such a public forum. Much less, he's Draco bloody Malfoy. But that doesn't keep me, or my omega, from hoping he'll ask me.
As I make my way through the corridors towards the library, an unsettling feeling settles over me, as if someone is shadowing my every step. My pace quickens, and a nervous flutter tugs at the edges of my thoughts. Suddenly, Cormac McLaggen emerges from the shadows, a smug grin plastered across his face. His presence alone is enough to send shivers down my spine. His alpha scent reminds me of wet mud.
"Cormac," I greet, a forced politeness masking my unease. "You startled me!"
"Hermione, forgive me," he drawls, falling in step with me. "Headed to the library?"
"I am," my tone is tight as I force myself to maintain my pace.
"You really ought to be more discreet, y'know. You reek so horribly of Malfloy, his scent is flooding this hall. Do you have any self-respect left, or have you completely surrendered to being his little omega plaything?" He sneers, his tone condescending.
His words cut through the air like a bitter wind, and I feel a surge of anger mingling with the discomfort. "I suggest you mind your own business," I retort, struggling to maintain composure. But I can't risk setting him off.
He laughs mockingly, reveling in his perceived victory. "Just a piece of advice, Granger. You might want to consider the consequences of flaunting who's in your bed. It doesn't reflect well on you."
I glare at Cormac, my frustration growing with each condescending word. "Your opinions are neither wanted nor needed. I'll choose my company as I see fit," I assert, my voice firm despite the lingering unease.
He smirks, undeterred by my defiance. "Granger, you're a smart omega. You should be choosing someone worthy, someone strong and respectable. Not Malfoy of all people. You're lowering yourself by picking him over someone like me."
His arrogance knows no bounds, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I'll thank you for keeping your unsolicited advice to yourself. My choices are mine alone, and they certainly won't be influenced by your misguided sense of superiority." I keep my tone even.
Cormac abruptly stops me in the dimly lit corridor, his grip firm on my arm, and a palpable tension in the air. My heart quickens as his eyes, a tumultuous mix of frustration and envy, bore into mine. "Granger, you can't possibly think straight when you reek of Malfoy," he declares, his words tinged with bitterness.
I draw in a shaky breath, a hint of fear flickering across my features. " I appreciate your concern, but I can handle my own affairs," I respond, my voice betraying a trace of nervousness.
He scoffs a bitterness lingering in his gaze. "You're making a mistake choosing him, you know. I could offer you so much more."
I swallow hard, trying to maintain composure. "My choices are my own. I don't need your input."
His initial frustration gives way to a more cunning demeanor as he shifts his tone and offers, "I could help you, you know. Get rid of that stench. Make things clearer for you."
A knot forms in my stomach as his offer hangs in the air. Despite the fear and unease that coil within me, I gather the strength to decline his proposition. "No, Cormac," I reply firmly, my voice wavering only slightly. "I appreciate your concern, but I don't need your help. I can handle my own scent and choices."
My heart pounds in my chest as he tightens his grip, not letting me go. Instead, he steers me towards the corridor wall, the cold stone pressing against my back. Panic surges within me, and I shoot him a desperate look, my attempt at composure beginning to fail miserably.
"This isn't necessary," I plead, the fear in my eyes evident.
He smirks, an unsettling glint in his eyes. "Granger, you need someone who can actually take care of you. Not Malfoy. Let me help you."
A shiver runs down my spine as his tone takes on a more possessive edge. "Cormac, let go," I assert, my voice quivering.
But he doesn't release his hold, his proximity sending waves of discomfort through me. "I know what you need better than you do," he insists, his arrogance reaching new heights.
In that confined space, I feel a surge of vulnerability. "Let me go, Cormac," I implore, my voice barely above a whisper.
His predatory grin widens as I manage to summon my wand, but before I can utter a spell, he leans in, his hot breath grazing my ear. "No," he murmurs, the single word dripping with defiance and arrogance. His body is beginning to press against mine. He looms over me, an unwanted presence that suffocates the already narrow passage.
His eyes, clouded with a mixture of frustration and desire, lock onto mine, and an arrogant smirk plays on his lips. The distance between us closes, and the cold stone wall at my back serves as a reminder of my confined surroundings. The scent of his alpha pheromones hangs thick in the air, a suffocating reminder of his misguided intentions.
The air thickens with tension as Cormac McLaggen, undeterred by my feeble attempt at resistance, buries his face into the vulnerable curve of my neck. Panic sets in, and instinct takes over as I summon all my strength to resist his aggressive advances. Avoid his alpha tone. Get him off me. Keep him from attacking again.
With a swift and determined motion, I manage to shove my wand into his stomach. Without hesitation, I shout, "Oscausi!" The burst of energy courses through my wand, the white light lighting up the corridor.
Cormac, caught off guard by his mouth disappearing from his face, stumbles back, bringing his hands up. Without missing a beat, I shout out 'Stupefy' and red sparks shoot out. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. Breathing heavily, I stand over his still form, my wand raised and ready.
"Expelliarmus!" I mutter, ensuring that Cormac is disarmed and poses no further threat. The echo of the spell reverberates through the dimly lit corridor, a testament to my determination to protect myself. As the wand clatters to the floor, I take a step back, allowing a moment of respite to flood the once-menacing space.
With Cormac sprawled on the ground, incapacitated by the Stupefy spell, I don't pass up the opportunity to deliver a swift, satisfying kick to his stomach. The satisfying thud of my foot meeting his side reverberates through the corridor.
Sprinting away from the corridor, I head to the library. I don't stop until I get through the doors. I burst through the doors, panting. My chest heaves and I berate myself for allowing myself to get so out of shape. Anxiety and fear begin to catch up with me from the ordeal and claws its way up my throat, making it difficult to find a steady breath.
A few beats pass in the hushed atmosphere of the library before Draco comes rushing around the corner, his eyes widening with concern as he takes in my disheveled appearance. He gives me a quick once-over, and his worry deepens.
"Granger, what happened? Are you alright?" His voice is laced with genuine concern, and he closes the distance between us, running his hands up and down my arms soothingly. "The smell of your fear and anxiety is filling the library
Taking a moment to catch my breath, I feel a wave of peace wash over me in his presence. "Cormac McLaggen... he confronted me in the corridor. Tried to... I hexed him, and then I ran here."
Draco's expression tightens, anger flickering in his stormy eyes. "Tried to what?" His tone is dark before concern begins to clash with his anger. "Merlin, Hermione. Are you hurt?" His fingers brush against my cheek.
I shake my head, appreciating the warmth of his touch. "No, I'm fine. Just a bit shaken, that's all."
Draco wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a comforting hug. His hand lightly grips the back of my neck. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Hermione. No one should make you feel unsafe."
I bury my face in the crook of his neck, finding solace in his embrace. I can't find words and just let Draco hold my weight.
We stay like that until my heartbeat regulates itself and my breathing has returned to normal. Once I carry my own weight again, he pulls back slightly, his eyes still burning with concern and anger.
Draco's jaw tightens, his anger palpable. "No one lays a hand on you like that and gets away with it." His hands move to my shoulders, and he looks deep into my eyes. "Go sit at the table, I'll be back."
"Draco, please," I implore, reaching up to trace my fingers along his jawline, trying to soothe the tension in his jaw. "Let's not make a bigger scene. I just want to forget about this and be in the library with you."
His tense posture slowly eases at my touch and the fire in his eyes dims a bit.
I gently take Draco's hand and lead him to our usual table in the back of the library. Draco sits on my side of the table with me, trapping me against the wall. Even with Draco's scent on me, it wasn't enough to keep Cormac away.
"What did he try to do?" Draco asks gently, his eyes searching mine for any signs of distress.
I take a deep breath, my fingers playing with the edge of my jumper as I gather my thoughts. "He confronted me in the corridor," I begin, my voice steady but laced with the residual unease from the encounter. "Cormac, he... he said some horrible things, Draco." I can't fight the quiver in my voice.
His jaw clenches, a subtle shift in his expression revealing the anger simmering beneath the surface. "What did he say?"
Hesitating, I shift my gaze away. I don't want to rile him up but I'd rather he know. "He accused me of surrendering myself as your 'little omega plaything,'" I recount, a bitter taste lingering on my tongue. "He claimed that I was making a mistake choosing you over someone like him, someone 'strong and respectable.'" I snort the last part but my stomach churns.
Draco's gaze hardens, his protective instincts coming to the forefront. "Bloody arrogant git," he mutters under his breath. "Did he say anything else?"
"He insisted that he could help me get rid of your scent, make things 'clearer' for me," I continue, the memory of Cormac's offer still sending a shiver down my spine. "I refused, of course, but then he... he cornered me against the wall. And I panicked. I hexed him."
Draco's hand finds mine, a reassuring touch that grounds me in the reality of our shared strength. "I can't believe he would go that far," he murmurs, his eyes searching mine for reassurance. "I'm sorry he said such awful things. You aren't anyone's, you belong to yourself. And you're definitely not a bloody plaything." He growls.
I offer a small, grateful smile. "It was awful but I handled it. Please don't escalate things further with him."
His grip tightens, a mixture of concern and frustration in his eyes. "No one should make you feel unsafe, especially not some dumb alpha."
"I appreciate that, Draco, I do," I say, squeezing his hand in return. "But let's find a way to deal with this without making it worse. I don't want any more trouble."
He nods, his gaze unwavering. "Alright. I'll leave it. But if anything like this happens in the future, I'm ending it without hesitation."
"Okay," I agree.
Draco pulls me into a lingering hug. His arms envelop me, providing a sense of security and warmth.
"Draco," I murmur, the sound muffled against his chest.
"Just need a moment, Hermione," he whispers, his fingers gently stroking my hair. I nuzzle my head against his chest with a content sigh. I'm safe. Draco's scent, the familiar and comforting blend, soothes the lingering tension in my muscles.
Eventually, he loosens his hold, but his hands linger on my shoulders as he pulls back, meeting my gaze. His silver eyes search mine, seeking affirmation that we're both alright.
"Thank you," he says softly, a genuine appreciation in his voice.
I nod, grateful for his understanding. "Shall we get started?" I suggest, offering a small smile. He nods and pulls out his muggle studies textbooks.
The library's quiet atmosphere is soothing as Draco and I diligently work on our homework, each lost in our own thoughts. The soft scratching of quills on parchment is the only sound that breaks the silence. Until a house elf appears next to our table.
He sets the tray down on the table, revealing two steaming cups of coffee and a plate piled high with warm chocolate chip cookies. My eyes widen in surprise. As I open my mouth to say thank you the elf pops away. I turn and look at Draco.
"Thought we could use a little pick-me-up," he says with a shy smile.
I smile, grateful for the thoughtful gesture. "Did you ask for this from the kitchens?"
"Let's just say I have friends in high places," He says with a shrug.
Looking back to the cups, I pick up the warm mug that obviously is made the way I like it. "Thank you," I purr out and take a sip off my mug. Just the way I like it. He remembers.
Draco grabs the other mug and picks up a cookie. "It's going to be a late night. I also wanted to talk more about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and what I learned while you were… occupied."
"Of course," I agree, helping myself to a cookie. "We need to do more research into who Tom Riddle was before he was Voldemort — gain insight into his perspectives on omegas, explore his experiences as a beta..."
Draco sips his coffee, contemplating our plan. "If anyone has information about Tom Riddle's early years, it's Slughorn. We just need to approach him tactfully."
I nibble on a cookie, nodding in agreement. "And Moaning Myrtle was a student when he was as well… maybe she can shed light on any peculiar behaviors exhibited by him."
He leans against the table resting his chin against his knuckles. His eyes are thoughtful as he brings up a sensitive topic. "Do you think that Ginny would have an insight into Tom from when she had his diary?" His tone is careful.
"I don't want to retraumatize her," I mumble, tracing the handle of my mug. "But she could be."
"Well, I'll let you make that decision. But I think she could know something."
Taking another bite of the chocolate chip cookie, I nod. "So we will meet with Myrtle and Slughorn this week. I'll let you know about Ginny.
"Sounds good," he smiles.
With a plan in place, we finish our coffee and cookies, before diving back into our coursework. The soft rustle of pages turning and the occasional scratch of quill on parchment fill the air.
Hours pass, and the weight of the day's events begins to catch up with me. My eyes grow heavy and my blinks slow.
Draco, always perceptive, closes his book and stretches. "I think it's time we call it a night. We've done enough for today."
I yawn, unable to suppress the tiredness creeping in. "You might be right."
He separates our scattered notes and hands my notes over to me while placing his own neatly in his bag. "I know I am."
After I pack my stuff up, we leave the library, the quiet echoes of our footsteps accompanying us through the empty corridors.
The castle corridors are dimly lit as Draco and I make our way towards Gryffindor Tower. The air is quiet, the whispers of night enveloping us in a gentle calm. We reach the familiar corridor.
"Good night, Hermione," Draco says, his silver eyes meeting mine as he leans against the wall again.
"Good night, Draco," I reply, a soft smile playing on my lips. There's a moment, a quiet pause that hangs in the air.
Finding my courage, I do what I've been wanting to do all day. Stepping closer, I wrap my arms around his neck and go to my tiptoes to press my lips against his. He kisses me back and I pull away with a small smile before he pulls me back in. Draco leans down to give me another kiss. I push my fingers in his soft hair at the nape of his neck. Draco pulls away with a heavy breath.
He looks at me with a warm smile spread across his face. "Good night," he says again, his words carrying a sleepy tenderness.
A quiet giggle comes from me and I return it before heading down the corridor to the portrait.
Draco
As she disappears through the portrait entrance, I make my way to the dungeons, my alpha brimming with pride.
I make my way to the dungeons, my heart skipping in my chest and I can't keep the stupid smirk off my face. Hermione's kiss lingers in my mind. Her lips are so soft, she's soft, and warm and smells good – I shake my head a bit, stopping myself from letting that trail of thoughts go further. I enter the silent and seemingly empty common room, to my relief.
As I make my way toward my room, Blaise sets his book down, casting a discerning gaze in my direction from his wingback leather chair by the fire. "I heard about McLaggen," he comments, and a surge of anger tightens my jaw.
"Yeah. How'd you hear?" I respond, walking over to join him in the chairs by the fire. "As that happened tonight."
"I have eyes and ears everywhere, Drake." He says, wiggling his fingers at me and arching a brow. "And it only makes sense as to who did that to him."
"Did what?" I feign ignorance.
"She hexed him. Used Oscausi and Stupefy. He's in the hospital wing now," Blaise informs me. "What did he do?"
My anger gets the best of me as I recount what McLaggen did to Hermione, and Blaise's jaw sets in tandem with mine.
"What the hell," he growls. "How are we going to handle this, Drake?" The firelight dances in his dark eyes.
"We aren't. I told Hermione I wouldn't. She doesn't want to make it worse," I reply, releasing a sigh as I rest my head against the chair. "Why are you so riled up?"
"She's my friend. She's your—" he pauses, thinks better of it, and shakes his head. "Uh, and you're my friend too. And I'm not the one who made such a promise. I'll take care of it for you."
"Don't make it worse, Zabini," I growl out the warning before I yawn. "I'm going to head up. See you in the morning."
"Night, mate," he nods, picking up his book.
Leaving him by the fire, I retreat to my room, trusting Zabini to handle the situation with tact. Thoughts of Hermione's goodnight kiss linger in my mind, the warmth of the moment still on my lips.
One Week Later
Hermione
Draco and I get through the week together trying to find answers about Tom Riddle while working on our end-of-term projects and studying for finals. I was dreading meeting with Slughorn so Draco suggested we see him first. Slughorn was overjoyed at having us and after getting him a few glasses deep of fire whiskey, we began to ask our questions. In the quiet and warm confines of his office, Draco and I gather tidbits about Tom Riddle from him. Following that, we met with Myrtle in the abandoned girls' lavatory. She shares her experience with me while aggressively flirting with Draco, much to my irritation.
Through it all, Draco doesn't let me alone when navigating the castle aside from using the lavatories. The unsettling encounter with Cormac McLaggen sparked Draco's protective instincts, and he can't help but insist on escorting me everywhere. While Cormac finds himself in the hospital wing daily with a variety of brutal hexes. I thought it was odd but I know it's not Draco as we spend the majority of our days together. But my favorite part of our days was being at our table and ending our study sessions with whispers and kisses. He was always gentle and respectful and no matter how much we or our biologies wanted more, we didn't push it.
Now with the weekend looming, I think about the details we've gathered this week and I've decided to talk to Ginny. Something told me her perspective could be the missing link. Leaving the lavatory, I make my way back towards the library, excited to share my decision with Draco. However, as I draw closer, his voice reaches my ears, and I instinctively halt, my curiosity getting the better of me.
"Come now, Drakey," Blaise's voice has a hint of whine.
"I'm not going to ask her to the bloody ball!" Draco retorts with a bored tone. "Why would I ask Hermione Granger to the ball?"
The air seems to evaporate from my lungs, leaving me breathless. My knees threaten to buckle, and I stand there, a silent observer of a conversation that shatters the fragile hope I'd allowed to bloom. The words hang in the air like a heavy fog, "Alpha's omega plaything." The weight of the realization presses on me, and I pivot on my heel, a sickening feeling taking hold. I thought... I thought we were building something, and the abrupt revelation leaves me feeling nauseated. Rushing through the halls, I hurry to the common room and run straight to my room, flicking a note off to Draco saying I'm not feeling well and going to lie down.
Hot unnecessary tears start down my cheeks and I throw his robe and jumper out of my nest. I curl into my nest and try to keep a hold of myself but fail. Has everything he's done for me been because I'm just an omega? Because I was making his alpha feel good?
"Why would I ask Hermione Granger to the ball?"
More like why would Draco Malfoy take me to a ball.