Exactly one week later, Hermione found herself staring at the body in the mirror. Contemplating the eight discolored fingerprints that framed her hip bones. There were two more, one on either side of her lower back, where his thumbs had dug in… Yet, those didn't give her the same uncanny light-headed wooziness that the slowly healing bruises that splattered her front did.
She pressed a finger to one of the still-purple centers and watched the flesh pale under the pressure. It didn't hurt… Anymore. Those first few days had been brutal. The nearly black bruises and welt of a handprint on her bum had been the least of her worries. The latter being easily soothed by the gifted lotion that sat in her shower bag.
No, the real issue was trying to move when every single action caused a spasm inside of her. Followed by a deep ache that lingered far longer than was acceptable considering how she had been the one to beg for it. Her reward had turned into some perverse self-flagellation and she'd had to feign the stomach flu to cover up her refusal to leave her bed the morning after.
Days, it had taken days for her to be able to make it to her next destination without having to swallow her groans. At first they were of pain, she would never deny that, but by the time that forty-eight hours had come and gone the second part of her request had been fulfilled. Every time she had shifted her panties would flood as forbidden memories danced in her vision.
She let go of the skin and watched as the red and purple blotches slowly filled back in. Her eyes automatically moved over to the rope of raised scar tissue that the bruising sat next to. Only the debut of the shattered ruination of her torso, she tried to skip over the worst of the damage. As she had done dozens of times before but the black mecca drew her gaze to the entry point of her attacker's twisted loathing.
A shiver ran down her spine as the look of shock that had crossed Harry's face flashed in front of her. His terrified green eyes wide as he froze, watching her fall in a broken heap on the Ministry's floor. Thankfully, her descent into madness had been swift and easy, like turning out a light. All that she'd had to do was succumb to the darkness…
Hermione trembled as she tore herself away from the distorted reflection. Blinking away the tears that threatened to cloud her vision. She refused to let the melancholy seize its relentless hold and took a few calming breaths through her nostrils. Quieting her mind, she went to finish with her preparations.
It was another night of answers to her enigma of a boyfriend and she would be foolish to leave him waiting. No matter how tempting the thought was.
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"There you are…"
The warm welcome brought an involuntary smile to her lips. "Hi."
"Hello." Draco replied as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a hug. "I've missed you, Kitten."
"Mmm… Who wouldn't?" She teased. His jovial disposition instantly rubbing off on her. Her hands were caught up in the fabric of the cloak she had been folding when he embraced her, otherwise she probably would have pulled him down for a kiss.
He laughed at her poor attempt at a joke and stepped back in pretend offense. "The feelings are not mutual?"
"Oh, stop it!" She rolled her eyes and finished with her task for something to do. There was no sensible reason to inflate his already oversized ego.
He scoffed, and the movement of air from his lungs hit her like a punch to the gut. Rather than the expected peppermint overwhelming her mental capacities, the sharp stench of alcohol had her nose twitching.
She took a slow step back and fought to keep her expression neutral. "I didn't realize that the night's festivities would include inebriation…"
"Nobody said that you had to imbibe." He taunted. "Granted, 1649 was a decent year for Ogden. So, it would be quite a shame if I had to sample his wares all alone…"
"Draco…"
"What, pet?"
"How much have you had to drink?" Hermione had no intention of taking advantage of his inhibitionless state.
He sobered at her question. Clearly, not expecting the sudden interrogation. His eyes hardened as he stood up a bit straighter, "I've had one glass since I came up here after dinner…"
"I don't think this is a good idea." She walked over to the usual chair and set the folded cloak down across the back like she always did. "We have class tomorrow..."
"Another first for us to check off one of your lists, Kitten? First time hungover in class!" When his joke did not land the way he had intended, he sighed and closed the distance between them again. "I promise that I am not intoxicated. Nor do I expect you to take a drink with me."
She pursed her lips as she openly appraised him. Since she had managed to drag down his lively disposition almost as soon as she had arrived, he was back in careful control watching her watch him. All logical speculation led to conclusions that would have varying degrees of consequences… Including, but not limited to- failing the looming Herbology quiz she'd spent hours in preparation for.
"Draco, honestly…"
His interruption was expected, but the words that followed were not. "If you would like honesty, Granger, I will freely give it! The singular reasoning behind my decision was fear."
Hermione's eyebrows came together in confusion and it was hard for her to find the right vocabulary to convey the jumble of emotions his confession brought up in her, "I… I don't want you to be afraid."
He shook his head and stared off behind her as he elaborated, "Your questions are getting harder to answer. And I am not stupid enough to operate under the misapprehension that they will be any easier tonight. Especially when taking into consideration some of the things you have learned since our last lesson… So I, foolishly, partook in the debauchery of liquid-courage. Do forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive." She sighed, still unable to shake the nagging feeling that she would be taking advantage. "I still don't think we should do this… Tonight."
"Would you rather delay for a far off night where we will end up sitting in silence for hours because I am a coward?"
The blatant manipulation caused her jaw to clench to stop the anger from slipping out. Mostly because she knew it was directed at the wrong person, she was rightfully upset at herself… On account of it freaking working! He was right. A few of her questions were far beyond the carefully constructed boundaries of their relationship and she hadn't planned for an outcome where she might actually get answers.
"Fine!" She snapped before glancing around the room, "Where's the bottle?"
Apparently completely appeased by her submission, his eyebrow arched up cockily, "What if I no longer care to share with you?"
"That's too bad. Your struggle with only-child-syndrome has little bearing on me. If we are going to do this, we will just have to even the playing field a little."
Consequences be damned…
Hermione crossed her arms over her breasts and stared up at him. Willing to wait out whatever childish power exchange he wanted to play now that he knew he had gotten his way.
It was his turn to judge her temperament. Evaluate if he had pushed too far or not. Her face remained blank. He shrugged in resignation and conjured the clear bottle that was half empty of the dark amber liquid. "Alright then…"
She took it from him, noticing the flash of vivid maroon that appeared in the fluid with the transfer of light within. A clear threat to just how badly her insides were about to burn. Before she could think the horrible decision through, she unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to her lips.
As soon as the booze touched her tongue, she was grimacing against the assault of flame from the hundreds-of-years-old fermented cinnamon. The struggle to swallow the offensive molten lava was punishment enough for her stupidity, but the scorching burn followed down into her throat and chest before settling in her stomach.
"Ugh!" Any witty response she had concocted was quickly wiped from her mind as the warmth spread out to her limbs. Her fingers and toes tingled as she pushed the bottle back at him. "That was awful! Why would you do that to yourself?"
He openly laughed at her. Instead of defending himself, Draco's response was teasing in nature, "You really are a brave one, Kitten."
"It still burns!" She accused with a glare, undeterred.
"Awww…" He wrapped her up in another comforting embrace before continuing, "I could always distract you…"
"Oh, get off!" She said as she roughly pushed him away in annoyance at the off-colored offer.
"That would be the end goal, pet."
"Behave!"
Her scolding brought no change to the antagonistic smirk on his lips, "Why? It is much more fun getting you riled up."
The double entendre was not lost on her and she fought with the immature urge to stick her tongue out at him. He would undoubtedly twist the action into something sexual. So she turned on her heels, putting an end to the conversation, and marched over to where her radio waited.
She sat down on the cool stone and grabbed the black vinyl portfolio. Her hands shook with the effort to keep all of the retorts that sprung to mind at bay and she flipped through the delicate plastic hastily. When she found the ones she was looking for, she did the ritual of switching out the current occupiers of the cd player and getting the new list ready to play.
His approach was quiet and the sudden clearing of his throat from directly behind caused her to jump, "Are you so angry with me that you would object to me joining you down here tonight?"
"I'm not angry with you…" She told the wall in front her. "I am angry with… Life."
"Makes perfect sense…"
"And I would never presume to tell you what to do in your own space, Draco." She ignored the jibe at her answer, choosing the continued glacial stare over letting him provoke her.
He moved so that a leg was on either side and the rest of his body enveloped her, in a position that reminded her of the night in the meadow that he had created for her… He leaned down so he could whisper in her ear. "I'd much rather be in your space."
"I thought I told you to behave!" She chastised with a playful swat of her hand to his forearm.
"I thought I was." He told her as he nuzzled into her neck for a quick second. Collecting himself, he quickly sat up straight and made a spectacle of putting his hands on his bent knees. "I will be a perfect gentleman going forward."
Her imitation of his stern tone and raised eyebrow from their last meeting were spot on as she finally looked back over her shoulder at him. "Good Boy."
Draco's eyes lit up, but he swallowed down whatever retaliation his mind thought up. His adam's apple bobbed with the effort to keep his promise.
Unable to maintain the farce for long, she turned back to the radio and the safety of the blank section of wall. "I think… I think this one is self-explanatory…"
Hermione pressed play and the sounds of the piano filled the room.
Somebody get me a hammer.
Wanna break all the clocks and the mirrors.
And go back to a time that was different.
A time when I...
Didn't feel like there was something missing.
Now my body and mind are so distant.
Don't know how to escape from this prison.
How can I free my mind?
'Cause I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
How can I live in the moment?
When my thoughts never feel like my own.
And
Don't know how to admit that I'm broken.
How can I be alright?
The silence that hung in the air as the last note rang out was heavy. She kept her eyes forward and pressed stop before asking her question. "What did you do today?"
"Why didn't you ask me this earlier?" His voice was low and tinged with suspicion on her choice.
"You tend to ignore my requests for details on your life lately. I figured I would have a better chance if you owed me…" Her answer came easily. It was the truth. He had become increasingly evasive since he had sought her out in the Prefect's Bathroom. Sharing less and less whenever she had the chance to ask.
"I… I woke up at six o'clock." He told her about his schedule instead of his day, running through a quick checklist of the highlights. Never offering up specifics on conversations or any of his usual observations about something he found particularly entertaining. "Dinner finished and I came up here to wait for you."
Despite herself, she had relaxed back against his chest during his short narrative. Completely unaware she was doing so until she had to respond and couldn't look up at him properly. "Very informative."
"It's what I did."
"Yeah, Yeah" Hermione said dismissively, knowing there were harder answers to fight for coming later. "I might have been humming this song the other day in the library and decided to share."
Before he said anything, she reached forward and pushed play for the second time.
Momma said there'd be boys like you.
Tearing my heart in two, doing what you do, best.
Taking me for a ride, telling me pretty little lies.
But with you, I can't resist.
Maybe momma doesn't always know best.
I'm terrified, but I'll never let you know.
Social suicide, if I ever let it show.
Everything feels just right.
I fall in place, we fall in line.
I'll never let you go.
So when you hold my hand, do you wanna hold my heart?
When you say you want me, is it all of me or just one part?
So when you hold my hand, do you wanna hold my heart?
When you say you want me...
Is it all of me? Yeah.
She risked a peak behind her as she pressed stop. Her vantage point from where she sat was wrong and she only saw the sharp lines of his jaw and chin, the rest of his face was obscured as he stared at his own mysterious spot on the wall in front of them.
"How's your mother?"
His head tilted like he was going to return her look but he stiffened and kept staring forward, "She has written."
"And?"
"And… Hidden amongst the monotonous details on various absurd socials, she was able to convey her wellbeing. Her political power amid the wives of numerous business owners and Ministry officials have saved the day once again." Draco's analysis was clinical and there was no doubt in her mind that the cold hard mask was firmly in place.
"I'm glad to hear it. I was worried…"
This time he wasn't able to stop himself from looking down at her. Unfortunately, she had been correct and his features were rigid with tension as he examined her sincerity. "You shouldn't work yourself up over her."
"Why not?"
Her shock at the tone for the woman he was willing to lose his future for had her scrambling to get on her knees. She needed to look at him properly, but he abruptly broke his statue impression. One arm crushed her back to his chest. While the hand of the other gently cupped her chin and guided her face to an odd angle so he could stare down at her reaction. "Kitten, you do understand she wouldn't hesitate to kill you, correct?"
"I understand that she might, hypothetically, end up in a situation where she feels like she has no other choice. Yet, I would have to argue this supposed bloodlust, considering she has had a plethora of opportunities to do so over years and I am still sitting here in your arms. Alive." Hermione pointed out, staring up at the swirling gray depths that hovered above her.
"There you go, giving us far too much credit."
"You are not a part of the 'us' anymore. Remember, Hero?" She wished she had some tangible way to soothe the unintentional pain that her innocent inquiry had caused.
"I would like to hear your next choice, if you wouldn't mind." He disentangled himself from her, returning to his earlier pose and looked over at the radio.
"Okay… I… ummm…" She swallowed around the lump in her throat and managed to get the reasoning out. "This is another song that I listened to quite a bit last summer… After…"
He gave a curt nod before she pressed play. The guitar solo and soft melody quickly transposed into something somber.
Monster, monster under my bed.
Come out and play 'cause I need a friend.
You're so damn close that I feel your breath.
You're the only one I have left.
Feel you in my bones.
Shiver up my spine.
You're a master of disguise.
You show up when no one's home.
Are you real or just a lie?
I can feel you in my mind.
In my soul.
But I love when you jump in.
And help me feel something...
My blankets are the door.
My bed is the coffin.
And just as it closes.
And I go to lock it.
I sing that lullaby you taught me...
Monster, monster under my bed.
Come out and play 'cause I need a friend.
His hands were clenched into fists as they rested on his still bent knees. She leaned forward and stopped the cd player before it could start on the next song. Instead of relaxing back into the security of his chest, she started to pick at the frayed edges at the bottom of one of her pant's legs.
"What is your next question?"
The words were clipped with his ire and she wanted to ask about the reasoning behind his restrained wrath. Of course, she was acutely aware how that would be a massive waste of a question, so she let her lungs fill with oxygen. Taking a quick second before she followed through on the commitment she'd made to herself. Even if the thought caused goosebumps to break out across her flesh… Altering her to a perceived threat of peril at her course of action.
"... What else has she done to you?
She heard the snap of his jaw as his jaw clenched at the invasive request.
And she was left with yet another question…
Would he answer?
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Song Credit:
"I can't Breathe" by Bea Miller
"Boys Like You" by Anna Clendening (Acoustic Version)
"Monster (Under My Bed)" by Call By Karizma