authorsnotes: wooh, update time
I've had most of this written for a while, I just rewrote the ending of this chapter like four times until I became very happy with it as it is now!
do tell me your thoughts and follow for regular updates, but more importantly enjoy
songrecs: consequences - camila cabello
When she wakes the next morning she feels … odd.
She doesn't know how else to describe it. She feels tired yes, as she had tossed and turned throughout the night. She feels excited to start a new year of classes, to see what the NEWT subjects are like, to see her friends she'd missed. She feels nervous to see Malfoy, after all she knows, and doesn't know. She'd never admit it but she also feels a touch scared…of him, of her, but that's not it.
There's something else, something else lingering just beneath the surface, something she can't name or recognise, and yet it has her tummy in knots, has a slight pulsing ache at the centre of her skull, and has her hands twitching a touch.
She doesn't know what it is, this feeling, this strangeness, and part of her doesn't want to find out. Of course the larger part is itching to know, as she is Hermione Granger and unknown things are the enemy. Another part of her knows it is someway related to Malfoy, to their bond.
But she tries to reassure herself, as she showers and dresses, as she rakes a brush through her hair and grabs her bulging book bag. She tries to reassure herself that she has a plan, she knows what to do next, she even takes a peek as she hurries into the common room, at the scrap of paper hidden in Hogwarts a History, her plan:
Look at books in the library on werewolf rituals and soulbonds
Ask McGonagall for a restricted pass to look there too
Write to Professor Lupin? (To consider)
Discuss as a 'research project' with one of the Professors – who?
If all else fails, talk to Malfoy again
She feels a little comforted by that, Hogwarts a History in her hand, a plan in place. She does feel a little shiver as she looks at the last line … the idea of talking to Malfoy again makes her feel nervous, scared, and the odd feeling seems to intensify.
That just makes her feel more worried.
"Hey Hermione" She is shaken from her thoughts as she hears Neville, smiling at her as he enters the common room. She offers a smile and a greeting back before stuffing her plan and book in her bag, and heading down to the Great Hall.
Her plan not to tell anyone has not shaken; what would she even say? Her head hurts just thinking about it. No. This is for her to consider and figure out alone.
Feeling slightly more resolute she makes her way to the Great Hall for breakfast. She'll eat, get her class schedule, and for lunch she'll go to the library, start number one on her list.
She'll be damned if she has to be driven to consider the last step of her plan.
With a small sigh she makes her way to the hall and notices somehow Harry and Ron have beaten her too it. She glances at the clock, she's not late but she's usually early. Odd. She does feel out of sorts and is just thankful neither Harry or Ron mention anything as she slides into a seat and reaches for some toast.
She manages to ignore a lot of the chatter, force down some breakfast (she's not remotely hungry), and then Professor McGonagall is wiping around with class schedules. Harry and Ron are first, both signed up for the same classes, and then it's to her.
"Fantastic OWL results as expected" Professor McGonagall says, and Hermione manages a smile at how proud her Head of House sounds.
"Thank you, Professor," She bleats, normally she'd be preening, but she just doesn't have the energy for it today. If Professor McGonagall notices anything awry she doesn't say.
"So, what subjects will you continue on to?" She asks, an eyebrow raised, wand and blank schedule in hand.
"Arithmancy, Runes, Defence, Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions" She rattles off, having known as soon as her results came what she intended to choose. She remembers then, opening her results with Harry and Ron, the celebrating, the laughter, the readiness for next year. That was before she'd gone home for the end of summer, before she'd wiped her parents memories.
She feels hollow again, and her expression is one of grief she knows. Malfoy had been an unwelcome but suitable distraction to her pain, with him at the Slytherin table (and she is proud of herself for not looking over), she has no wall against her grief.
"Fantastic" Professor McGonagall says, and then her expression softens a touch as she taps her new schedule and hands it to her. "Miss Granger, Professor Dumbledore told me of what you did, if you need…"
"Thank you" Hermione doesn't think she's ever cut off her Professor before, but she can't stand to hear anymore sympathy. She does wonder if Malfoy would give her sympathy. She doubts it.
Thankfully her Head of House doesn't take it as rudeness and just bustles on. Hermione is more than happy to force down the rest of her toast, say goodbye to Harry and Ron, and head straight to Arithmancy.
No time to think, that's helpful.
Though, the odd feeling persists, in fact if she were to analyse closer it has started to feel a bit unpleasant. Like some kind of ache.
Is it grief? She is worried to find she doesn't think so. It feels strange, painful, and almost … insistent. A persistent ache.
"You're fine" She whispers to herself as she hurries to Professor Vector's classroom, her anxiety building as she walks, as she tries to reassure herself. Is this feeing to do with the bond?
She doesn't want to answer that.
She's thankful to reach the classroom then, and she is the first one present. Frowning at her watch she notices it's 5 to, she's not overly early. Where is everyone?
"Ahh Miss Granger" Professor Vector said. Hermione liked the Professor, though she was strict and expected a lot, that worked just fine for her, "It'll be a small class this year, come in"
Hermione was indeed the first one there, but before 9 (as Professor Vector did not accept lateness), the remaining class filed in. She was surprised to see only 4 others were taking the subject.
Terry Boot she wasn't surprised by, he was easily one of the brightest Ravenclaw's, Sue Li followed behind and they gave one another nod. Then came Theodore Nott, his face as always completely blank of any emotion.
She wasn't surprised to see Malfoy follow in Theo, as much as she hated to admit it he was easily 2nd in the year to her, always snapping at her heels. He didn't look at her as he walked in and took a seat next to Theo. She did feel something unclench in her though, as he walked in, sitting two desks over from her. He sat at the front on the left, Sue and Terry shared the middle and she alone on the right.
He didn't look at her, not once for the entire lesson. His blonde head was either looking straight ahead or bent to work. Whereas she glanced at him, looked over at least 10 times, distracted.
Still, even though he didn't look she felt something inside of her ease, the ache in her chest at breakfast did seem to halt, to soften. She wasn't sure why, she tried to put it down to the distraction of the difficult class, of not thinking on her situation, Malfoy, her parents, the secrets and lies, all of it, but she knew deep down that wasn't it. It was something else. Something new.
She had little time to contemplate it though, as class finished, as everyone hurried out, Malfoy too.
And he still didn't look at her. Not once, not even a glance.
She hated that she felt a little morose at that, at his lack of attention. And as soon as he was gone, practically running out of the door, the ache in her chest returned.
By lunch time the ache is persistent and painful. It has spread across her chest, and she had twice debated going to the hospital wing to check she isn't having some kind of heart episode. She feels sick as well, her stomach in knots and doing flips she is sure. She has rarely felt worse.
But it doesn't feel like an illness, it is different, and awful. Her breath is constantly in her throat and she barely forces down half a sandwich at lunch before she excuses herself, her library excuse easily accepted by her friends.
She hates herself that she glances over at the Slytherin table before leaving and hates herself even more when she feels a horrible tug of worry and worse, something akin to longing when she notices Malfoy is gone.
She tries not to dwell on that, forces her feet to walk her to the library where she'll be doing some much-needed research.
Because, somewhere between Transfiguration (with the Ravenclaw's, no Malfoy), and Charms (with the Hufflepuff's, no Malfoy again), it had become clear why she feels on the verge of collapse.
Soulbond.
She has no idea what effect they have, and resents Malfoy for keeping them from her, but she's smart, logical, and she has to think this is one of the effects, the gut wrenching pain in her chest, the knots in her stomach, the awful cold feeling dancing over her spine that makes her (even wrapped in Ron's jumper on top of hers and a scarf) feel freezing.
She has no idea if it's there to drive her towards Malfoy or to remind her of the effect but she feels horrendous, and books have rarely failed her before, and she needs to figure this out, she gets much worse and she'll be begging Malfoy to tell her.
And she'd die before that.
So, restricted pass (thank you McGonagall) clutched in her hand and her teeth chattering she grabs twelve books on werewolf's and begins to work her way through them.
She has a free period after lunch and so she keeps working, book after book, and when those 12 say nothing about a soulbond she selects another eight, nothing again, another four, nothing again, four more, nothing.
She doesn't even realise it's dinner time and she's missed classes, and she feels on the verge of fainting, and every book in the library she has found so far on werewolf rituals, mating, and behaviours has nothing, nothing on soulbonds.
She confronts her lips, shivering as she raises her pen. The library had rarely failed her before, she can't quite believe it, and never thought she'd actually have to go any further than number 2 on her list.
She feels sick then, and knows she won't be eating dinner, she wonders about having an early night but the tight feeling in her chest will stop any sleep she's sure. She feels like she has a bad bout of the flu, combined with perhaps a heart attack in motion (though she's never had a heart attack it matches the symptoms).
'What is this?'
"Can't you fucking guess?"
She didn't realise she'd spoken out loud, nor had she noticed that she has company, but as she hears his voice, tilts her head up and sees him, that faint gold glow still clinging to him, she lets out a whine of relief, as the tightness in her chest eases just a fraction, as some of the nausea abates, as she feels a little normal again.
"Oh god, Malfoy" She says, for she can see now he looks probably as bad as she does. There's a sheen of sickly sweat to his skin, he's paler than normal and his eyes are wide and almost crazed, with flickers of gold at the edges that certainly hadn't been there before.
She was right, this is because of the soulbond, of course it is.
Fuck.
"What is this?" She still has to act, has to know, as she hopes he'll be forthcoming, he came to her didn't he?
"The soulbond" He says, not coming any closer, a good step or two away, his hands curled into fists at his sides, his expression hard set.
"No shit" She throws back, the very uncommon word leaving her lips. She rarely swears or sounds so uncouth, but the tightness in her chest has eased a touch but only a touch. It almost feels like poison, slowly leeching from her skin, it feels infinitely better but still too slow.
"It's us being apart" Her eyebrows shoot up, shocked he's so forthcoming, but she can see she's not the only one suffering under this, she doesn't fool herself he's trying to help her, just himself.
"Apart?" She processes what he said then and her eyes widen in fear, worry. Is this serious? Not only if Malfoy is to be believed can she never be with anyone else (and she's not convinced she's fully even processed that yet), but now she has to be close to him as well? Regularly?
"No" She says and he nods then, almost like before. It seems they have some solidarity in hating this and wanting to desperately deny it.
She feels sick, but not because of the soulbond she knows, that is easing rapidly, as the tightness in her chest fades. Not quick enough, but better, so much better.
No, she feels sick at the idea. She can't stand Malfoy, the idea of constantly having to be around him makes her want to vomit. Not being with other people was horrid, but that didn't mean she had to be with him, but this? It's been less than a day! And she feels ready to collapse! No, no, no, this can't be.
"But…" She stumbles then, rare for her again, and she forces herself to stand, shaking still. She doesn't imagine Malfoy taking a step closer to her, as though to help her before he comes to a halt, almost like he stopped himself.
She near snorts at that, as if Malfoy was trying to be chivalrous. She's sure he doesn't have a chivalrous bone in his body, pureblood manners be damned.
"It's not even been a day" She says, needing to repeat her thoughts out loud, still in disbelief about them, "I can't… we can't…"
"I know" He sounds almost sympathetic and that makes her want to cry, Malfoy being almost kind must mean it's bad.
"Why" She wails then, as close to crying as she'll allow herself in front of Malfoy, "Why is life so unfair?" She asks, raising her gaze to Malfoy then, as though actually hoping for an answer from him.
"I don't know" His voice is almost a whisper, in the quiet almost empty library. She glances outside, it's late, way past dinner she realises, and the first day of school, no one's studying today. "Maybe we're damned"
"I don't think there's any maybe about it" She says, shaking her head, her gaze finding Malfoy's again. He looks tense as a rod, and she knows why.
Because she feels what he is feeling, she knows that.
She knows like her, as the tightness eases, as the nausea fades, as the weakness seems to eb away, she knows like for her, for him its' not quick enough, and if being a few steps away from one another is working, she knows he is thinking and feeling the same as her.
That if they stepped closer it would be quicker, the urge to grab at one another, for it to fade completely.
They both want to, but neither will.
She won't break first, she can't. Not for her pride, she can't.
"It's barely been a day" She repeats, for Malfoy seems unwilling to initiate any of it, "We can't…" She can't even finish the sentence but Malfoy nods. They both know they can't spend hours together; let alone they don't want to. Both of them know it's too complicated to share with anyone, and they hate one another, they can't be around each other.
"Apparently" She can see he is gritting his teeth, almost like he doesn't want to say what he does next, he probably doesn't, "It will fade with the more time spent together and…" He pauses then and it looks like it physically hurts him to get the next bit out, "And how close we are together"
"Close?" She goes to ask before she realises what he means. She feels a bit warmer then, as her cheeks flame a bright red, she's thankful Malfoy isn't looking at her now, but has moved his gaze firmly upward.
She doesn't want to think on the implication of his words, hasn't even processed what this means in the long term and instead tries, tries desperately to focus on the short term, on the fact the easing has stopped, and her chest is still horribly tight, and she knows she still won't be able to eat or sleep. Right now they need to sort out the short term, the future can be ignored … for now.
"What about a hug?" She forces herself to say and almost regrets it as Malfoy's gaze snaps back to hers, his expression a mixture of curious and horrified, she stumbles then, and backtracks, "Or we hold hands"
She hates that he made her come up with a way to deal with this. Coward.
He doesn't say anything, just looks angry then, furious, and so she knows she'll have to be the one. She sits back down in her chair and pushes the one next to her out for him.
"Look, we can't be like this" She says, and she is thankful when he sits down. He is smart, as much as she hates to admit it, he is logical, he knows she's right, that they have to deal with this, at least in the short term, for now.
He sits next to her, and she shuffles her chair forward, close enough their knees almost brush. She is close, on purpose, as much as she hates it, as much as she wants to run for her dorm room, her body is telling her to get closer, to ease the pain, closer, closer. Like a hymn on her skin, and as she shuffles close enough to hold her hand out for him she feels her stomach squirm.
For several seconds she just holds her hand out and he just looks at it, angry, confused, she can even see a hint of fear. She wants to yell at him, scream that she's scared to, as furious as he is, so why does she have to do everything? Why can't he meet her halfway?
"Malfoy come o…" She doesn't finish her sentence, the words are stolen from her, in shock, as Malfoy's hand encloses hers.
He isn't slow or gentle, he doesn't gently slip his fingers between hers, no.
Instead he grabs her hand with an urgency, his fingers intertwining with hers quickly and without fuss. His palm connects with hers, and then his gaze finds hers, she isn't sure what gives him the bravery to look at her, but she is thankful.
The effect is almost instantaneous, for both of them.
She lets out a moan of relief, as the tightness in her chest is chased away to barely an ache, as her nausea disappears, as a blossom, blooming warmth spreads through her. It's not quite back to normal but it's close enough after a day of agony. She knows Malfoy feels the same, as he groans, as he seems to actually brighten, as his glow fucking shimmers in front of her, as they both feel a sweet relief they were desperate for.
She feels too good to be scared then, scared of what this means.
She finds her head falling forward, to rest against the back of her hand, and his thumb brushes her forehead. At first she thinks it's a mistake, but as it does again she knows its deliberate, she knows he means it, and that somehow, chases away the final ache, and a sigh of relief leaves her lips.
"We're ruined"
She doesn't deny it as the words leave his lips, as he even sounds better, calmer, content. He's right, they are ruined now, for anyone else, maybe for anything else.
"I know" She whispers it, but neither of them move, even as they acknowledge it, they can't.
It's the first time neither of them run away, in fact they stay like that for hours, her head resting against their joined hands, his thumb stroking her skin, their aches and pains eased, in more trouble than ever before.
Ruined.
sooo thoughts?
I do hope you liked! the angst and intensity ramp up, and will continue doing so! I've said it before but I will again, this story will be angst filled, if that ain't for you this probably ain't your story (but why not stick around and give angst a try, trust me it's worth it!).
as always I do hope you enjoyed, do follow/fav for updates and review - tell me what you thought! I love to hear your comments
I will update soon and keep an eye out for some upcoming draco/hermione oneshots, in fact I recently uploaded one (shameless plug here), strawberry ice cream, the opposite to this with fluff abound! go check it out!
speak soon