Midnight Swimming Chapter 16 - T, a harry potter fanfic

Chapter 16

Hermione

Her eyes linger on Draco as he's leaning against the door, coaxing his chin with his thumb and index finger. His gaze is fixated on Hermione, admiring her. He carefully observes her as she takes out her black dress and a few make up items she put in her satchel.

"Are you going to keep it black or charm it to navy?"

"Haven't fully decided yet," shrugging one shoulder.

She glances back at Draco as he pushes himself off the door, strutting over to his wardrobe, pulling out a tailored black suit. She recalls the night of the Yule Ball and how breathtaking he was in his suit. However, the boy before her is now a man, equipped with more muscles and the knowledge of how to please a woman. The 'what ifs' she's playing in her mind has her heart rate picking up.

"Do you ever wear anything other than black?" She chuckles, a small attempt to bring her rapidly beating heart down.

"I do occasionally wear dark gray," Draco quips over his shoulder, giving her a cheeky grin.

Hermione rolls her eyes as she walks over to the large mirror to the right of his wardrobe. She flicks her wand causing stones to scrape against each other forming a small shelf for her to place her makeup on. She eyes Draco in the reflection of the mirror, taking her time applying her mascara, being careful not to poke herself as she stares at him as he undresses. Draco slowly takes in Hermione; she notes his adoring expression. A moment that's forever etched into her brain.

He is a love struck fool.

And so am I.

His gaze lifts to find her also watching him, she feels her heartbeat thumping in her chest again. They share small smirks as he finishes the last top three of his buttons. She continues to apply her small amounts of blush and highlighter. After he's finished with his shirt, he turns back around grabbing something inside of his wardrobe to then place on the shelf Hermione created.

Ah, a Sleekeazy potion.

She gives him an accusatory grin, "Is that supposed to be for me?"

Draco rolls his eyes, "No, that's for me. Clearly," gesturing to his unkempt hair, "I didn't bother with mine this morning."

She playfully narrows her eyes at him in the mirror, "Hmm, I'm still not convinced. You bullied me for years about my hair."

His amused expression falters, "I think we both know, I'm not that person anymore."

They give each other thoughtful looks in the mirror before Hermione turns around to fully give him her attention.

"I love the man you're turning into, Draco," her voice light, but meaning every single syllable as she fixes his collar for him.

His enchanting silvery-gray eyes search hers for the truth of her words. She steps forward and firmly presses her lips to his, sealing her spoken truth with their kiss. The exchange is brief yet sweet, holding promises of both spoken and unspoken words.

"Are you almost ready?" He asks her with a small smile.

"Almost," she responds in a lighthearted voice.

He nods and Hermione turns around, they go to take the Sleekeazy potion at the same time.

"Oh, sorry, you go ahead," retracting her hand.

Draco chuckles and raises his brow. "With the mop on your head, you definitely need it more than I do," he says teasingly.

Hermione's mouth gapes open, not truly offended by his words. "First of all, brush your teeth."

Draco scoffs at her insult.

"You don't get to talk to me like that with a mouth that rank," giving him a cheeky pointed look.

Now Draco's mouth mirror hers from moments ago, wide open in shock of what she said.

"Hope you actually shaved your mammoth legs today," Draco arrogantly smiles at her.

She scoffs at him. "If you didn't like it maybe you should have said something. For all I know, you're attracted to hairy legs. I haven't shaved since that day." Hermione quips, mirroring his arrogant smile.

He playfully glares at her, shaking his head.

They continue to get ready for their date, occasionally making eye contact in the mirror, smirking at one another. They both take small dollops of the Sleekeazy potion, shaping their hair into a desired manner. She finishes the rest of her make up as Draco puts on his Buggernaughts. Contented with how he looks he plops down on his bed, eyes locked on Hermione as she slowly puts on her dress. Unable to physically zip the rest of her dress up independently she smiles at the thought of asking for Draco's help.

"You need help there, Granger?" He asks in his most seductive voice.

She makes eye contact with him over her shoulder for her answer. Draco lifts himself off his bed and saunters over to her. She feels the heat of his body as he approaches her, the warmth of him is relaxing to her. He carefully moves her brunette curls out of the way then slowly zips up the rest of her dress. Once her dress is tight around her torso, his featherlight fingertips trace her shoulder and down her arm, sending a tingly sensation of fire across her skin. Her breath hitches and her eyes find his, heat, galaxies and universes colliding within them. They stand there feeling the galaxies and universes they create while admiring one another.

Hermione takes the liberty to cut off the galaxy-making by asking a question. "What else should I wear with the dress? I know you suggested the warming charm earlier, but just the dress alone seems lacking."

He smiles at her without breaking eye contact," If you're going to wear navy like you mentioned earlier, then I think a white fur coat would look nice."

She does like the thought of her in a navy dress and a white faux fur coat. She grabs her wand on the shelf and transfigures the color of the dress along with casting the warming charm. She turns to go through her bag and plucks a single sock for her to transfigure her a soft white fur coat. She glances in the mirror making sure her hair, makeup and outfit are presentable. She looks over herself, fully happy with the level of finesse she feels she's added to her outfit then turns to Draco with a triumphant smile. She gathers her belongings placing them back into her satchel and tosses it by the foot of his bed near his trunk.

Draco's smile matches hers, "You look beautiful, love."

Her breath hitches, heart violently thumping in her chest from his own use of the word love, blood rushing to her neck and cheeks. His smile shifts into a mischievous smirk knowing his effect on her and extends his elbow for her to take his arm.

"Are you ready?" He asks with his enchanting glistening eyes.

Hermione steps forward and takes his arm, his warmth encapsulating her as she nears him. "It's still rather early for your reservation, right?" She asks.

Draco rests his hand over hers as they make their way out of his room to then exit the common room. "I was saving it for after supper, but I think we have time before our reservation." Draco guesses as he mesmerizes his favorite witch. "Unfortunately, I do have to ask you to apparate us to truly save time."

Her expression falters for a second.

Oh no, my wand. I don't have it.

"I forgot it in your room!" She states, pulling from Draco's grasp, she sprints towards his room. She opens his door and runs to the self-made vanity, grabs her wand and turns to exit the room, shutting the door behind her. A loud shrill of a whistle is heard from behind her, she turns around to find Pansy and Ginny smiling at her. She's unsure of who whistled, but either one was as good of a guess as any.

"You look beautiful, Hermione." Pansy says wholeheartedly to her, admiring Hermione.

She smiles, "Thank you, Pansy."

Ginny smirks, "Like I said earlier, make sure to use a contraceptive potion."

Pansy's awestruck expression now replaced with a matching smirk to Ginny's, "Or the handy dandy pull-out method."

Hermione scoffs at the both of them then turns to get away from their invasive suggestions towards Draco, who heard the whole exchange. Draco's sinister smile tells her that he's also about to say something vile. "I will not be pulling out, so contraceptive potion it is."

She tilts her head at him with her wide eyes screaming, 'excuse me?'

He gives her a satisfied grin as he guides her towards the exit of the common room. "Would you please apparate us to Diagon Alley, Miss. Granger?"

She quickly rolls her eyes and flicks her wand to apparate them to Diagon Alley.

Crack

Due to it being the weekday the street seems less littered with patrons than she's more familiar with. Draco pulls her towards Flourish and Blotts.

"Flourish and Blotts? What are we doing here?" She asks with a hint of a smile.

"You'll see," Draco says with a lighthearted tone.

Draco releases her arm and opens the door for her, gesturing for her to enter. Hermione scrunches her nose playfully at his attempt of chivalry, stepping forward to kiss him on the cheek as she passes him into the bookshop. As she steps through the threshold of the store, trinkets of paper birds fly about the store, alerting the employees of a potential buyer. She inhales the scent of aged paper, leather and the earthy element of wood, soothing her soul. Stepping further into the shop Hermione reminisces on her fond memories of being in here and gathering her required books for her whacky years throughout Hogwarts. She takes notice of the spiral stack of books floating down an aisle near the back, magically shifting and sorting itself to put books in their proper places throughout the store.

"Ah, Draco, my boy. You're early!" A woman's voice calls out.

Hermione turns her head to glance at him and then to see a goblin coming their way. Draco links his arm with Hermione's as they stand side by side. She's taken back when the goblin smiles at them, she's never seen a goblin smile and it not be in a menacing way, like when Griphook asked for the Sword of Gryffindor.

"I don't mean to rush you, Alaba, but we're a little pressed on time," Draco gives her a guilty smile.

The goblin woman simply nods and turns around, gesturing for them to follow along with her hand. They follow her up the stairs and towards the very back of the shop. Alaba stops and holds out her hand in the air, reaching up to a top shelf. There's a slight pause before a book pokes out from the shelf and gently floats down into her hand. Hermione looks at Draco giving him a questionable look. He smiles before jutting his chin towards the goblin, gesturing for Hermione to take the book. She smirks and gives into this silent demand, thanking Alaba when Hermione takes it from her hand.

She glances at Draco again before inspecting the book she just took from Alaba. They share a playful look before her gaze leaves his, registering that the book she holds in her hand is the one from Hogwarts Library, the one that had little to no information regarding Buggernaughts and the significance of what it means to be a rightful owner. Her head snaps up to look at Draco, giving him a thoughtful look.

Did he gather enough evidence from his great grandfather's journals?

"Don't get ahead of yourself, I didn't do anything. This is your wrong to right." He says in a soft voice.

"Says the rightful owner of a pair of Buggernaughts," Hermione deadpans.

Draco extends his arm again, "Now, Miss Granger, if you would apparate us to my manor."

"Your manor?" She asks with a puzzled look.

He simply nods as she takes his arm with her empty hand. Draco gently removes the book from her hand and places it under his free arm. Hermione takes out her wand from the inside of her fur coat, apparating them to Draco's manor.

Crack

Once in the entryway of the Malfoy manor Draco guides her to a corridor she's never been through. He checks his pocket watch as they make their way down the hallway, coming to a large entrance that leads to the Malfoy library. Hermione is absolutely blown away, she's seen enormous bookstores in her life, but nothing as grand and vast for a private library. Her eyes scan thousands upon thousands of books. The intricate moulding around the ceiling is breathtaking. But what stuns her is the animated portrait of the battle of the Titans. She's mesmerized by the movements of the Olympian Gods, two sets of ungodly powerful beings enacting war on one another to become rulers of the cosmos.

This is beautiful.

Draco admires her thoughtfully as he guides her to the second story of the Malfoy library. They come to a stop near the center of the enormous bookshelf. He places the book from Flourish and Blotts on an accent table.

Wait. We didn't pay for that.

Oh god, I'm a thief. Well, an accomplice to a thief.

"Draco, we didn't pay for that!" Hermione spits out.

He chuckles and shakes his head, "She knows I'm good for it." He thoughtfully scans the row of books in front of him with his index finger before taking out the same book, but much older. He hands this book to Hermione, "Forgot to mention. You're going to need the original copy in order to change the texts."

Hermione rolls her eyes at him then gently traces the book, "Of course you would have the original."

Draco smiles triumphantly, "I wanted to make a show of it."

She gives him a pointed look before rolling her eyes again.

"The Malfoy's have always been collectors at heart. If I'm honest I think we own 75% of original wizarding books. Not sure how much we own of muggle texts though, mostly ancient writings that I know of."

"You own ancient muggle texts? Like what?" Giving her full attention to him.

Draco shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs his shoulders. "I know that we have a few letters from Cleopatra to Mark Antony. And some texts from before the library of Alexandria was destroyed."

Hermione's mouth gapes open as her eyes grow wide.

Draco chuckles at her, "We can look at those some other time, we need to get to our dinner reservation.

"I'd much rather you make us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while I sift through those ancient texts of yours." Hermione laughs.

"I refuse for my potential last meal to be that," Draco chokes out with disgust. "Besides, you're not going near those texts with food residue on your fingers." He adds.

She gives him a deadpan look. He smirks and extends his arm for a third time for her to take.

Fair enough.

"Diagon Alley?" She asks him.

Draco nods his response with a warm smile and she apparates them back to Diagon Alley.

Crack

He leads her to The Alchemist's Table, opening the door for her to enter first. They're greeted by the warmth of a fire displayed in the center back wall. The heat of her warming charm and the fur coat being too much, she begins to take off her coat. Draco helps her out of it and takes it from her, while asking the female elf dressed in a black sleek dress at the hosting post to check her coat under Malfoy. Hermione and Draco give each other knowing looks, smiling at one another. Both understand what it means for an elf to wear actual clothing, rather than simple sacks or sewn together rags.

She's free.

"Uh, right, coat check." The elf says in an unsure voice.

Hermione and Draco quickly give each other questionable glances. The Elf takes the coat from Draco and walks towards the back of the establishment, coat dragging on floor.

Offended by the lack of awareness Draco yells out to the elf, "Don't let it drag on the floor!"

The elf makes a high pitched 'oh' and frantically gathers the rest of the coat, trying her best to contain the coat with the elf's small limbs. However, the small limbs are a disadvantage because the coat still drags. The elf and crumpled coat disappear through the kitchen's swinging door. Draco sages his patience by rubbing his eyes with his thumb and ring finger.

Hermione giggles and nudges him with her shoulder, "It's not that big of a deal, it's a sock anyways."

He releases a semi annoyed huff, "You're right, but still. It's the principle of it."

Loud banging and thumps are heard from inside the kitchen. They exchange puzzled looks once again.

"What are they doing to your sock?" Draco chuckles.

Hermione laughs while shaking her head at him.

The elf comes back wiping dust off her black dress, but to no avail; there's still dust. "Name?" the elf asks in a high-pitched voice.

"Malfoy," Draco responds in a semi annoyed tone, seeing he just put the coat under Malfoy.

Hermione pinches him slightly for him to cut it out, "Stop being rude."

He exhales his annoyance, "Fine."

The small newly dirtied elf guides them to a table for two near the center of the restaurant. Hermione can sense Draco's apprehension as the patrons that are scarcely littered around the room are staring at the two of them.

"I'm pretty sure I requested a private room." Draco pointing to the non-private table in front of them.

"Oh, um, right. Private room, almost forgot." The elf says in another unsure tone. She looks around the room quickly before stating, "Uh, wait here while I prepare it for you," and then scurries off behind the kitchen doors again.

Hermione tries to hide her smirk as Draco dramatically lifts his hands in defeat of what he would presume to be an annoying situation. "You'd think a reservation would guarantee prompt service, but I guess not." Draco says under his breath with a scowl on his face. More loud thumps and banging occur then a conversation from what's assumed the female elf and another elf.

"What is Nila doing?"

"Making private room!"

"We don't have private room."
"Nila, knows. That's why Nila makes one."

Why doesn't she just use magic to create a room?

"Nila, no, stop!"

Something scraping along the floor followed by the sound of plates crashing.

"Oops, Nila sorry."

"Nila!"

"Nila, fix later!"

Hermione and Draco awkwardly stand in the middle of the restaurant occasionally making eye contact with others as they're eating their food. She could feel Draco's patience begin to thin with each scowl, she's surprised when he decides to wave at his onlookers and arrogantly smile at them.

"This is already a nightmare. I'm annoyed and embarrassed." Draco seethes for only Hermione to hear.

"You're embarrassed?"

"Yeah, if you haven't noticed only a handful of people like me," raising his hand dramatically, spreading his fingers, "And you're on that hand so that leaves like four people."

"Well, aren't you the mathematician? Good job." She teases.

Draco gives her a puzzled scowl.

She rolls her eyes, "Arithmancer."

Draco raises his brows, now understanding her then simply glares at her.

Nila scurries back over to them, Hermione smiles brightly at the elf she's panting.

"Come, come" Nila gestures with her tiny hand.

They follow her into the kitchen, taking in the small industrial style kitchen. Another fire blazing, reminiscent of a firestone for pizzas. Hermione finds it odd with the lack of cookware she's not seeing or lack of an oven. Nila leads them to a room without a door with its side walls stacked with boxes of scattered and unorganized papers, her coat thrown onto a stack, a desk butting up against one of the sidewalls, an office chair propped on top of the desk. In the center of the room is a small table with a sheer fabric for decorative purposes, a single rose in the center and two tattered chairs. Draco's unable to muffle his audible disgust while Hermione tries her damndest to hide her smile and smother some of her laughter knowing Draco's hating every second of this. Draco pulls out her seat for Hermione to sit down then pulls his tattered chair to sit.

"I guess this is the exotic experience I paid for." Draco angrily states under his breath.

"What would you like to start with?" Nila asks with a bright smile.

"Do you happen to have any Firewhiskey or Goblin Gin?"

"Uh, no alcohol."

Draco slowly closes his eyes, exhaling his impatience hoping to find more to then reopen his eyes, faking a smile for Hermione.

"We'll just have water, please." Giving Nila sympathetic eyes, silently apologizing for Draco's impatience.

Nila nods and goes to get their drinks.

"What the fuck is that?" Draco's annoyance shifts into disgust, pointing behind her.

She turns to see where he's pointing and watches another male elf dressed in a black sleek suit stepping on a stool so he can place a plateful of chicken nuggets into a microwave.

You're joking.

Hermione does her best to not laugh at the sight of elves working a muggle microwave.

"That's a microwave, like a mini oven. Cooks things faster."

A stack of papers falls to the ground, the fallen pile slowly spreading to their feet.

Draco keeping his disgusted expression slowly shifts his focus from the microwave to her. "I think I would have preferred the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at this point." Draco quips.

"And miss this disaster of a first date? I don't think so." Hermione chuckles and shakes her head at him.

He attempts to hide his face with his hand, shaking his head in disbelief of the accuracy of it. Nila comes back with two waters, placing them down on the table then states the three options for their dinner: chicken, fish or soup.

Well at least I know what the chicken is.

"I will take your fish," Draco responds.

She avoids eye contact with him and chooses the safer known option; chicken.

* . * . *

Hermione made sure to order more chicken nuggets for Draco when his order of fried fish sticks was presented to him with tartar sauce. He refused to try the ketchup to dip his nuggets in, he ate them plain. Although he didn't voice his complaints, he was sure to share his disdain for this exotic experience he paid a hefty amount for with several grunts and annoyed looks to poor Nila. However, Draco did voice his frustration when he yelled about the price for their 'stupid muggle meal,' Nila denied that it was muggle food. Her denying that was laughable, it was muggle food, not some exotic food found in a remote part of the world like it's advertised as.

Full of chicken nuggets, Hermione and Draco make their way out of the cramped 'private room.' Draco grabs her coat and places it on her shoulders. She attempts to stifle her smile while shoving her hands through the arm holes, knowing that he would describe their first date as an utter disaster while she would say it one hands down one of the funniest nights she's had in a long time. As they step out from the warm ambiance of the sham of a restaurant that is The Alchemy Table and into the cool crisp December air. Hermione smiles as the few snowflakes that seem to be falling from the sky. She takes in a lungful of frigid winter air, fantasizing about a white Christmas.

Linking her arms in Draco's they slowly make their way down the pavement of Diagon Alley, enjoying the light snowfall.

"Do you have plans for Christmas?" Draco asks Hermione.

Knowing she doesn't have her family to celebrate with this year, again, she feels as though she should have a small inkling of hurt, but her lighthearted mood has her feeling hopeful. Hermione shakes her head with a smile staring at the gray clouds above her, the gray reminding her of her favorite person; right beside her. She turns to look at Draco who's also wearing a smile. Hers brightens at the sight of him.

Still looking at him she asks, "What are your plans, Mr. Malfoy?"

His brows raise, "Honestly, I'm not sure. I don't know how tomorrow's trial will go."

Draco then turns to her, his eyes memorizing every aspect of her elegant face.

Hermione leans in closer to him, hoping to gift him some of this hopefulness she's feeling for herself. "I think it'll be fine." Her smile is bright as she peers into his silver-gray eyes.

"Are you going to our trials?" He asks with a small smile.

She nods her head rapidly as they continue down the path. Draco smiles at her brightly before leaning and kissing the top of her head. A movement that feels so natural, so right yet she's never experienced from him before. She leans her head softly into his lips feeling his affections wash over her. Hermione's smile turns into a gummy grin at a thought.

"Would you like to indulge me in light of our first date?" She playfully asks, raising her brows and tilting her head at him.

His smirk indicates he's more than willing.

Hermione pulls out her wand and apparates them to Malfoy Manor.

CRACK

They apparate into the drawing room. Draco's eyes grow wide at the place she's apparated them. Hermione giggles at his hesitation.

"Lila!" Hermine shouts in a singsong voice.

Pop

"Mione!" Lila shrieks while running with her hands in the air towards the pair.

Keeping her one arm linked to Draco's she raises her free arm and hugs her as Lila runs into them. They both chuckles as Lila rams into them.

Hermione smiles at Draco quickly before looking down at Lila, "Would you do the honor and play some fun music for us?"

"Make sure to do a containing spell for the sound, please," Draco states, smiling at Hermione then to Lila.

Lila's smile is from floppy ear to floppy ear.

SNAP

21 Broomsticks blasting from the non-existent speakers around the room. The vibrations of the music thumping, causing all three of them to dance to the beat of the music. Hermione and Draco take turns spinning Lila all around the drawing room. Creating fond memories to overshadow the tainted ones.

* . * . *

About an hour tick by before Hermione's willing to call it a night and head back to Hogwarts. Tired and danced out she bids her goodbye to Lila before grabbing Draco and apparates them back to his room. Hermione plops down on his bed content with the night she's had. Draco smiles at her while making his way to his bed, and takes her shoes off for her and places them on top of his trunk. She watches him as he takes off his Buggernaughts and places them on top of a dark green journal. Hermione smirks as she tracks his movements as he walks over to her, leaning down and placing hands on either side of her head, being careful not to pull on her hair.

His eyes on hers, enchanting gray silently whispering the promise of love to be had and returned. Hermione's breath almost gets caught in her throat.

Is he going to say it?

Hermione relaxes into his touch, desperate for this feeling of hope and love, vowing to savor every second. Reaching out with both hands, she pulls him by his collar closer to her, forcing their lips to touch. Their kiss slowly deepens; tongues greeting each other with intensity. Both of their hands roam the other's body, electric tingles broadcasted throughout their entire bodies. The familiar feeling of warmth spreads to her mid-region. Wanting to share herself fully with him, she leans into the unspoken feelings of love and leans back on Draco's bed for him to follow.

Their movements become more hungry, wanting, needing more of one another. Still lost in their electrifying kiss, Hermione begins to unbutton his shirt. As each button gives way, she reveals not only his marblesque skin but a level of intimacy they both crave. Once completely unbuttoned she presses her hand flat against his upper chest, feeling the scars of his past discrepancies. He stills and pulls back to look at her. She softly kisses his scars as if she's forgiving his past. His silver-gray staring into her, giving her impressions of a forever she never knew she needed.

Leaning into this sense of forever, she kisses up his torso, collarbone and neck. Just as she's about to press her lips to his again, she asks in a gentle whisper, "Promise yourself to me."

Draco tilts his head to the side, mesmerized by her. "I promise myself to you," he whispers back to her. "In this life and the next," he adds before returning his lips to hers; right where they belong, where they always have.

Draco pulls back, breathing in deep as he stares at Hermione, enamored with her beauty. He gently caresses her face in his thumb. As she gazed into his enchanting gray eyes, she felt a wave of emotions wash over her, his eyes reflected a love that seemed to radiate from his body. Silently speaking those three spellbinding words that she knew could change her life is spoken aloud.

He begins to open his mouth, instantly she knew what he was going to say, "I lo-"

Cutting him off, she slams her mouth to his, sharing earth shattering kisses.

She pulls back to give him a mischievous smile. "Save that for after your trial," offering him hope for his undecided fate.

The inevitable sensation of galaxies forming causing them to grow desperate for a connection that's of mind, body and soul. Sharing passionate kisses, they undress each other one article of clothing at a time. Once bare, he presses himself into her and fiercely kisses her, grinding himself against her most sensitive bundle of nerves, making her feel just how hard he is for her. Hermione releases a longing whimper. Craving more of him, all of him, she chases his movements. A low hoarse moan escapes him.

Relishing the beautiful sounds he's making; she pulls back to look at him, watching as his eyes move down her body. Enjoying the sight of her perked nipples protruding out for him, he bites his lip.

His gray eyes find her again and gives her a menacing smirk, "Are you sure?"

She glances at his lips before she slams her mouth against his for her answer. Desperate touches. Desperate kisses. Desperate belonging. They touch each other as if this is the last thing they're going to experience on this earth. Their tongues beautifully collide, tasting of galaxies they feel between them. Unspoken promises shared between them as they dive deeper into their love for one another.

Shifting himself so Hermione is directly under him, he rubs the head of his cock against her clit. A loud moan escapes her lips before Draco circles her entrance to then push himself inside her. Hermione's hips follow his movements as he thrusts into her. Their moans are in sync just as their bodies and souls are. Thrusting. Moaning.

Hermione feels Draco's hand reach for the back of her neck, pulling her up for their mouths to meet. Intoxicated by each and every stroke of him. His lips leave hers and find one of her tight perked nipples, licking, sucking, biting one to then trade for the other. She grabs fistfuls of his blonde hair, pressing her chest further into his mouth, tilting her head back and treasuring the love they're making.

"Fuck, Draco." She moans into his ear, clawing her nails down his back.

Draco slightly winces at the pain before giving her a warning smirk and wrapping his hand around her neck to firmly push her back down on the bed. They share a playful exchange as his grip tightens around her throat. Hermione releases a hummed satisfied moan, the vibration of it leaving Draco needing more sounds and thrumming of her satisfaction. She watches him as he pumps harder and faster into her, dying to memorize the face he makes as he comes inside her. Each thrust pushing her closer over the edge, closer to her climax.

His thrusts become more frantic and harder, letting her know that he's close. She feels her muscles constrict around his cock again as he repeatedly hits her g spot. Watching him as he fucks into her, over and over again. A euphoric high crashes over her as she reaches her climax; the feeling is intoxicating from the beautiful chaos of their own making. Draco pumps into her three. more. times. before thrusting to the hilt of him, she can feel him pulsate inside of her as he emptied himself into her. Both stare at one another, panting heavily.

Hermione giggles as she recalls something that Draco said to her the first time, they were this intimate.

"Do you think I could be mistaken for Slytherin now?"

Draco's signature sinister smile dances across his face before bending down and reclaiming her lips. Beautiful and soft touches are exchanged as they come down from the high of their encounter. He lays down next to her, propping up his head with his elbow as he gazes at her. She turns her body to lay on her side, facing Draco, lightly tracing stars along the scars on his chest.

He gently grabs her arm, stopping her star making to kiss her Mudblood scar on her forearm. His lips and movements are so gentle and caring it nearly brings tears to her eyes. Here she is lying in bed with a man she never thought could hold any emotion besides anger and hatred, but here he is sharing a love she's never felt before. They lay there holding onto one another as they slowly drift to sleep.

Wednesday, 2nd of December 1998

Hermione awakens to soft kisses down her body, the familiar sensation of warmth in her mid-region forming. She tries to blink away her tiredness and sleepily smiles at Draco, his intense gray eyes on hers.

"What time is it?" She asks.

"Almost 7," Draco answers in between kisses.

Her smile brightens at the thought of squeezing in another rendezvous, but then another thought occurs.

"Shit!" She exclaims, throwing herself off the bed.

She searches her bag for a contraceptive potion she packed for herself. She rummages through her nearly endless bag, annoyed with having so many practical items in one bag. Finally feeling the vial, she pulls it out and displays it to Draco.

Raising her brows, "Bottoms up," she says, cheering herself and throwing her head back to drink the tart liquid. It flows down her esophagus to rest in her stomach for the potion to work its intended magic.

"As much as I would love to…" Hermione says, not finishing her thought because she knows she doesn't need to.

Draco smirks and nods his head, "I guess I need to dress for my potential death sentence."

Hermione's face falters, giving him an annoyed glare. Draco chuckles as he winks at her before lifting the covers to reveal his naked body. She rolls her eyes at him as he struts over to his wardrobe to pull out a dark gray suit along with a pair of black Buggernaughts. Hermione smiles at the thought of them and knowing that Draco's given her full access to the Malfoy Library. Then another unconsented surge of worry hits her.

What if he gets sent to Azkaban?

In an attempt to avoid horrible thoughts, she shakes the thought out of her head and goes to her satchel to pull out her clothes. She searches her bag for her maroon cable-knit sweater, jeans and under garments. Hermione pulls her knickers on, watching Draco, who's not facing her, as he pulls his boxers on, praying for a favorable outcome for both get ready for the day.

"Ah, you and your Gryffindor colors," Draco teases as he begins buttoning his shirt.

She rolls her eyes and points to his color choice, "You and your doom and gloom color palate."

She grabs her wand and then her shoes on his trunk, transfiguring her heels into comfortable sneakers before shoving her feet into them. She goes to grab the other pair of Buggernaughts on his trunk to put them away from her, but as she does this she hears a thump. Draco and her share smiles before she places the shoes in his wardrobe before she returns to the thumping noise. Bending down to retrieve a familiar journal.

Is this mine?

Noting that it is hers by the handwriting and entries of the journal.

Funny, I don't remember putting it in my satchel.

"No, that's mine," Draco says confidently with a smile.

What do you mean, yours?

"Are you sure?" she asks even though she's sure this journal is in fact hers.

Draco nods his head repeatedly, "It's been on the trunk for a few days, probably fell off when we were…" he says, alluding to their intimate moment while buttoning the last of his black button up.

So, this is his? He's had access to my thoughts?!

"This is yours?" Hermione asks again, shaking the journal at him.

His brows furrow. "Yes," he answers hesitantly, as he shoves his feet into his black Buggernaughts.

His confirmation.

A wave of nausea washes over her, then outcast by a new wave of outrage. Wanting to hear him admit he's had access to her thoughts she reads an entry, "Dear Diary, Ugh, I don't know. I probably won't keep writing that."

Draco goes still, wide eyed, staring at the stones of his dorm.

She continues without missing a beat. "Seems a tad juvenile for my liking, haven't written in a diary since I was a young girl!" She shouts, her anger dripping from her words.

She glares at Draco, who's slowly lifting his head, staring at her with horror.

"You've had access to my thoughts? For how long?!"

Draco doesn't answer her, just continues to stare at her with regret and horror.

She narrows her eyes at him. "Answer me. For. How. Long?" Seething at him.

He forces his eyes closed and shakes his head, "Before the school year started."

Before the school year started? When the hell did he have access to my journal?

As if he was answering her thoughts, "The first time I ran into you in the library," he says with shame. "I charmed it before I got my wand confiscated," Draco admits, not making eye contact with her.

Thinking back to the day that started it all. His enticing scent, his captivating smile, his physical reaction to her. That was months ago. He's had access to her thoughts for months. And never said a fucking word about it. In fact, he lied about it.

You've had it this whole time?

She quickly recalls instances where he used her own words against her, for his own benefit.

"I'm sure we'd all love to hear more from your diary."

Recalling the first day of the grieving groups.

He said that knowing that I scratched out the part where I said I wasn't going to make entries that said 'Dear Diary.'

His unexplained ability to know what I was thinking or feeling this entire time.

I thought Draco understood me, that we were on the same page.

I guess in a sick perverted way we were, however it was from my own pages.

Hermione's nausea resurfaces, as if bile is fighting its way up her throat.

Clearly you've been reading it if it's out in the open so fucking brazenly.

"I can't believe you. After everything," Hermione says in a whisper, more to herself.

He gave her a desperately pleading look, reaching out for her. "Hermi-"

Instinctively she took a step back from him, making sure he could in no way touch her. Anger. Fury. Burning rage. It's all she can feel, all she can focus on. She feels as though everything has been a lie. How she let him in only for him to betray her.

"How dare you! Toying with me like I'm some…" she cuts him off as she pulls her arm back and with everything in her throws the journal at Malfoy's fucking face, "fucking plaything of yours!" She screams at him. Making sure he doesn't call her by her first name, because he doesn't have the right. He's never had the right to call her by her first name, or to her heart.

Draco wasn't able to block the journal and it hits square in his face, Hermione's fury is overshadowing her attempt to smile from her precise aim. He clutches onto his nose and mouth where the journal hit him.

"Oh shit, what's going on here?" Pansy says from the doorway.

Hermione doesn't look at Pansy, she continues to scowl at Malfoy.

"Uh, well we need to be going soon," Pansy says to both of them, thumbing outside the room.

With the truth being unveiled and their trust now broken she has no intention of attending his trial in support of him.

Hermione scoffs. "I will not be going," Hermione says to Malfoy with disgust.

Draco closes his eyes, slightly tilting his head back, shame and guilt written on his face.

Pansy's expression contorts into confusion and hurt. Hermione backs away slowly, putting her hands up as if to keep Malfoy away from her and then turns to walk out of his room. She doesn't look at Pansy as she walks out. She's desperate to get out of the Slytherin common room, away from anything that's associated with him. She can hear Pansy call after her, but she doesn't acknowledge her. The slaps of feet hitting stone behind her make her quicken her pace, running away from whoever is trying to get to her. Someone grabs her wrist to stop her.

"Please," Malfoy pleads with her.

Unable to look at him, she forces her eyes close and shakes her head, fighting the tears that are begging to leave her eyes.

"I understand you not going to my trial, but please don't take your anger out on Pans. She needs you there."

"You're right, I shouldn't take my anger out on her. I'll go to Pansy's," yanking her wrist out of Malfoy's grasp. "But I can assure you I will not be there for yours," Hermoine yells, storming off to anywhere that he wasn't.

* . * . *

Since Malfoy's trial was immediately after hers, Malfoy was to go over last-minute prepping with his mother during Pansy's trial. Hermione was grateful that Pansy's trial was first, she doesn't know if she could handle seeing him for even a millisecond. Blaise, Alaric, Ginny, Theo and Harry were all cautious about referring to Draco at any point in front of Hermione. She presumed he either confessed his betrayal or more than likely downplayed what happened and simply told them she's angry with him. Ginny, who's sitting next to Hermione, takes her hand and squeezes. She releases an exhale, forever grateful that Ginny's always the one to pull her from her thoughts.

The Judge pounds the gavel to quiet the semi rowdy crowd in the gallery. Hermione looks down at Pansy sitting in the rigid-looking chair across from the Judge. Pansy gives her friends a quick uncomfortable smile before turning back to the Judge.

"Hearing of the 2nd of December, 1998 regarding Pansy Parkinson, charges against her for aiding and abetting Voldemort," he begins.

"I'd like to begin by stating that we're under the impression that Miss Parkinson's trial should be resolved swiftly today. That is with the expectation that the information that we've gathered for this trial to be current and true," The Judge gestures to a prosecutor to begin their questioning.

"Miss Parkinson, when were you made aware of Voldemort's return?"

Pansy takes a deep breath before answering, "I was made aware by my father, Percival Parkinson, two days after the Triwizard Tournament, when I arrived back home from Hogwarts."

The prosecutor nods, "And during this time back home, was your family still under the expectation to aid in his cause?"

Pansy nods once, "I was aware of my father's status within Voldemort's circle."

"And what would you classify that as Miss Parkinson?" They say with brows raised.

"My father was part of his innermost circle, he was a Death Eater," Pansy informs.

"Were you and/or your family ever expected to host Voldemort?" The Prosecutor asks.

Pansy is visibly annoyed by the accusation of her hosting Voldemort, "I, alone, was never forced to host, however, my father hosted him several times during his rise to power."

Ginny and Hermine share wary glances before turning back to Pansy.

"How many times did your father host Voldemort?"

"I can only attest to when I was present at home: from what I can recall, he hosted him at least twelve times for extravagant dinners, meetings, or events. However, it could have been more," Pansy tries to recall.

"Were you ever at any of these dinners, meetings, or events?"

Pansy pulls her brows together trying to remember, "I was inside the home for these, however, only ever actually in the presence of Voldemort for two dinners that I can recall. I told my mother how I was frightened of him and she decided it was best to have me stay at Hogwarts for most holiday breaks, except for summer breaks. I never attended any meetings. I was only made to go to one event that I can think of."

"During your two dinners and or the event, did you ever come across any information regarding Voldemort's schemes to rise to power?"

Pansy takes in a deep breath and exhales, "I never overheard any explicit details on how he was going to rise to power, more so the assumption for when he rose to power and his ideas for after that of what was to happen."

A loud bang of the courtroom door closing pulls everyone's attention. A tall lanky man with a long narrow nose and slicked back brunet hair makes his way to the Judge. He steps forward to whisper to him while handing him papers. The Judge nods as the unknown man talks to him. The Judge reviews the papers he's just received and waves the prosecutor over him. The prosecutor walks over to the Judge and they engage in a hurried conversation. The Prosecutor looks at Pansy and then nods their head once.

Blaise, Alaric, Ginny, Harry, Theo and Hermione all share nervous glances. Pansy frantically looks up at them from her chair trying to gauge the situation.

The Judge clears his throat, "Excuse me, but there have now been new charges brought against you, Miss Parkinson. This trial so far has merely been for formality purposes. Your former charges of aiding and abetting Voldemort have been dropped."

Hermione and the rest of her friends let out an exhale of relief.

"However, we need to pursue these new charges; one count of first degree murder of Percavil Parkinson, 3 counts of sex trafficking muggles and 3 counts of sex trafficking elven life."

Pansy's mouth gapes open, trembling from the horror plastered on her face due to the new set of charges brought against her. Hermione and the rest of them share the same look of horror.

Pansy shakes her head in disbelief at her new charges.

Without giving Pansy the proper time to digest her charges the prosecutor continues their interrogation, "Miss Parkinson, could you give insight to your motive for murdering your father, Percavil Parkinson?"

With wide and haunted eyes, she scoffs at the question.

"Are you refusing to answer the question Miss Parkinson?" The Prosecutor asks sternly.

Pansy looks up at Ginny with the same haunted expression, forcing her eyes shut and ever so slightly shaking her head, not to the prosecutor, but what they are asking of her. To relive one of the worst nights of her life.

"My so-called fucking father was trying to kill me," she shouts at the prosecutor. "That was my motive, to survive."

The prosecutor glances at the Judge quickly before looking back at Pansy, "Do you have any evidence of this?"

"What happened to innocent til' proven guilty?" Alaric scoffs for only their group to hear.

They slowly look at Alaric with a new mixture into their horror filled eyes; sympathy.

"It's not like that here, Alaric. You have to prove your innocence. You're assumed guilty until proven otherwise," Ginny regrets to inform Alaric.

"Assumed guilty," he regurgitates with a haunted teary-eyed expression.

Hermione's heart aches for Alaric knowing his true feelings for Pansy. They all turn back to watch the trainwreck unfold.

Pansy scowls at the prosecutor. "I'm willing to enter my memories as evidence," she sneers.

The prosecutor fully turns to the Judge, hands placed behind their back, awaiting the Judges decision.

There's a flicker of hesitation before they nod. "I will grant this submission of evidence as long as it pertains to your charge," the judge says.

"I can assure you, my memories will clear me of all my charges," Pansy states to the Judge, flaring her nostrils.

Hermione catches blonde out of the corner of her eye, and she turns to confirm her initial thought, Malfoy. All her anger before is brought back ten times over, it has multiplied from the hate she's feeling for the trial that's unfolding. However, she doesn't want to focus it on the court, she wants to pour all her rage into the one person who deserves all her loathing. Malfoy eyes catch hers, his face of sympathy and shame morphs into uncertainty and confusion.

I fucking HATE you Draco Malfoy.

* . * . * . . . * . * . *

Hours have passed since Pansy's trial, and she has yet to return back to Hogwarts. Hemione left from the ministry seconds after Pansy was escorted to the Judges quarters to collect her memories to sift through in a pensieve. Malfoy attempted to talk to her before she left, but she cast an ocsausi on him. She refused to look to see if his mouth had vanished, she couldn't stand the sound of his voice and just wanted to get away from him.

She sifts through potions books, trying to come up with something that can help her grade in Potions. Now that Malfoy isn't around to distract her she can finally focus on her future and on her studies. She loses track of time as she goes through complicated potions searching for just the right one that could dig her out of the hole that she's found herself in. She spots black out of the corner of her eye, relieved it's not blonde.

She turns to find who she was hoping.

Pansy.

Hermione instantly flings herself out of her chair and rushes to Pansy, embracing her. Pansy wraps her arms tightly around her, pouring all of herself into the hug. Neither of them cry, they just hold each other tighter, fighting the tears that want to force their way through.

"How did the rest of it go?" Hermione asks as she pulls back to look at Pansy.

Pansy shakes her head in disbelief of the whole fiasco. "I was right, they were able to drop all of my charges from what I provided them. But I know they wanted to get me on some charges, I feel like they're fishing for something."

"What memories did you give them?" Hermione asks.

"Trust me, Hermione, you do not want me to tell you what I had to enter into evidence," she tells her, not looking Hermione in the eyes as she recalls her horrid encounters.

Hermione nods, letting Pansy know she understands and won't pry.

Pansy looks up, her expression is mixed with weariness and shame, "But there is something I do need to tell you though."

Hermione tilts her head, gauging where this conversation is heading.

"The journal," Pansy clarifies.

Hermione looks at her with narrowed, but curious eyes.

"I knew about it," Pansy states with shame.

Hermione lets go of Pansy as if she's molten lava and backs away from her with Hermione's hands up.

Pansy steps forward, "I was the one who charmed it so no one else could see what was in it."

Then how the fuck could I have read it? You are a shit witch. And person.

"But that was before everything. Before our friendship started, before our fist fight, before school started. I swear it," Pansy says, pleading to Hermione.

She looks at Pansy with the same horror she had earlier at her trial, realizing how she can't trust these people who she thought were her friends.

"You people can't be trusted," she says to herself, but loud enough for Pansy.

Pansy exhales a guilt ridden breath, pleading with her eyes.

"Get away from me," Hermione says in that same whispered tone as before.

Pansy backs up, doing as she was asked with a teary eyed expression. "I'm so sorry," Pansy says with that same whispered voice, leaving the library.

Another few hours pass by and Hermione is still in the library avoiding Pansy, avoiding Theo, avoiding Blaise, avoiding Alaric, avoiding Ginny. Avoiding anyone who brought any memory of Draco. She wanted him scrapped from her memory just as much as she wanted her Mudblood scar off her fucking body. Because even her scar was another reminder of him. How he was the one who was able to do the counter curse, saving her life. How, ever since that day, he's never called her the loathsome word. How he gently kissed it on the dock.

And then when they made love…

All my love and admiration, all my patience…

Wasted on an undeserving man.

Hermione forces her eyes shut, balling her hands into fists, digging her nails into her skin, trying to transfer the hurt in her heart to somewhere else. Her breaths are heavy as she attempts to stop herself from crying. She refuses to cry for a man who never deserved her. She tries to remind herself of her worth, but the painful ache of her heart wants to wallow in the loss of who she thought was her end-all be-all.

Attempting to channel all her attention to anything other than the man who broke her heart, she continues on with her studies. Hoping to get lost in the words of her books, trying to find something to fixate on, something that can grant her some sort of solace.

"Knew I'd find you in here." A male voice calls out to her.

Minutes before the library closes, she believes God sent her a small life line.

Ron.

Ron slowly nears her. "Hey, Mione'," he says with a small smile.

Wanting to take the life line, she gives a small smile back. To her surprise he apologizes about being a shit friend lately and in return she apologizes for the way she broke up with him. Then recalls another memory, what he said the first day of session about her being boring.

"I heard you that day," she says to him.

Ron gives her a confused look.

"The first day of grieving sessions," she says, hoping he'll understand what she meant.

Ron continues to look at her confused.

She exhales before saying, "How I was so boring."

"Hermione, I was just upset and taking it out on you," he explains to her.

She silently notes his lack of apology, but still gives him a small smile.

"You do have a beautiful smile," Ron says, his tone flirtatious.

Although his words don't have as much impact as Malfoy's, it still has some impact on her. She leans into this sense of affection she's desperate for, knowing she's not going to get it from the one person she truly wants it from the most. She's willing to cling to the person who's currently giving her the affection she's craving.

"I'm sure Parvati wouldn't appreciate you telling some other girl that," she says, exhaling a slight laugh.

"Why would she care?" Ron asks.

She looks at Ron, fully paying attention to him. "Aren't you with Parvati?" She asks.

Although she doesn't truly care for the answer, she cares about how he feels. If he's going to aid the sting of hurt she's feeling from a certain Slytherin's betrayal. If he's willing to risk his morality standards for her. Because at this moment she's eager to give into anyone who's all consumed by her. She's desperately seeking to feel as if she's the center of their world, even if she's truly not. The perception of it, is what matters. In this moment she wants someone who loves her more than she loves them, that way she can walk away with her heart unscathed.

"No, I ended that. Wasn't the person I wanted to be with."

She's relieved, slightly for Parvati, but primarily for herself. She doesn't have to hold guilt for leaning into Ron's affections. She nods at his words, knowing how that feels, wanting things to work out but the universe has other plans. Wanting to be with someone who you have thought to be the one, wanting to be with someone who holds your heart but doesn't hold yours. Draco's betrayal screams above all her thoughts.

"I see you're not hanging around them."

She continues to nod without looking at him or uttering a word.

"I see them for the sham that they are. They can't be trusted," Ron sneers.

No, they can't.

Continuing to nod mindlessly, Ron comes closer to her, closer to her than he's been in months. He gauges her face and smiles at her, she smiles back as a reflex. He holds out his arms to hug her, her insides scream to push him, to run, run away from any man's touch, but she doesn't move. Ron's warm embrace coaxes a response, she wraps her arms around him and rests her head on his shoulder. Thoughts of a certain blonde come pushing it's way forward. Hermione forces her eyes shut and tightens her hold on Ron, hoping to cast out the thought of Malfoy.

"I've missed you so much Hermione," Ron says in a whispered voice.

Hermione lets Ron's words wash over her, hoping to lessen the pain from her shattered heart. She leans into him, praying to be saved by her drowning thoughts of a boy who she feels ripped apart her soul. She gives into familiar notions of faking smiles and laughs, pathetically grabbing on to anything to distract her head and her heart. She should care for Ron's heart, but her own unbearable heartache won't let her.

Ron pulls back slightly to look at her, she looks into his ocean blue eyes. Another pang of hurt crosses her, she doesn't want blue, she wants enchanting gray. Ron leans forward and kisses her, she doesn't kiss him back, but she doesn't pull away either.