Chapter 14: Failure is for the weak


"Potter sent you to check up on me, Granger?" Draco inquired from his spot on the floor where he sat crossed-legged, the grimoire opened and vulnerable to spilling out its secrets.

Classes had finished for a while now which meant Draco had to be inside the Room, just as Hermione suspected. He wore his regular attire: a cream-colored shirt and black pants, the tie and jacket discarded somewhere on a chair. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the white skin of his forearms, a bouquet of veins and slim muscles peeking from underneath. A blonde strand of hair rebelled out of place, hiding away part of his cheek. Even in a state of disarray, the Slytherin demanded full admiration and more.

"I came out of my own volition. I'm not his errand girl, you know," she said matter-of-factly, unable to tear her gaze away from his arms, and hands, and those particularly long fingers.

"That is becoming clearer and clearer," he said, sounding almost amused.

Hermione ignored the implications of that statement and went to take a seat next to him on the floor, pulling the book closer to her in the process. She inspected the spell again, comparing the writing to any of the alphabets she had encountered working at the Ministry, recognizing its structure, at least.

"Any progress with the spell? I still can't read it very well."

"Yes, the deciphering part was easy," Draco revealed.

Show-off, Hermione thought to herself, feeling bitter. When it came to magic, she had years of experience above him and he still bested her at it. He was, however, always surrounded by dark wizards and Hermione figured that had to play a crucial part in his evolution as a full-fledged wizard.

"But it's more of a trial-and-error process," he added and continued explaining upon seeing Hermione's frowning face. "The spell itself is not a simple destroying spell. I have to build it up, keep perfecting it and tweaking it until I can fully use it. If I don't learn it well, everything will turn out a complete waste of time."

"Interesting," Hermione whispered. "So it's similar to an Aurelian spell."

"How do you know about those?" Draco inquired, genuinely curious. Not even Hermione Granger could have access to books only found at the Ministry and the Malfoy residence.

"What about you?" She turned the tables on him, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Touché," he replied instead of offering a proper answer.

"Well, anyway, I'm sure you'll fully master the spell," she said, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. She truly believed it, especially knowing what she now knew. Draco would become a proficient wizard in the future although, due to his history and stigma, his efforts would be toned down and his participation in the wizarding world kept to a minimum. He would never have the chance to develop to his full potential, the Ministry would never allow it out of fear and need for control but Hermione was certain of his abilities. If matters had been different, he would have become a dangerously gifted Auror instead of a boring, albeit successful businessman.

"Your confidence in me is touching, Granger," Draco teased but Hermione did not laugh. On the contrary, she became serious all of a sudden, causing Draco's smile to fade slightly. "What's wrong?"

"I've been noticing something for a while," she said carefully, wondering if she was pushing her luck again. "You always act cocky and confident, like nothing can touch you—but it's just an act, isn't it? A mask you wear for everyone else. The truth is, deep down, you're not as sure of yourself as you want people to believe, are you?"

Draco's head turned away from her, almost like a child caught in a naughty act. She wondered if he realized how well his feelings transcended his face.

"This might sound strange coming from me but ever since we started talking…you've proven time and time again that perhaps, that forced self-assurance of yours is rightfully entitled. You should tap into it, Draco. It might surprise you how far it will take you."

"Matters are more complicated than that," he told her, thinking back on all those times his Father had reinforced his teachings. Lucius never allowed him to forget what expectations were presumed of his only son.

If there were once instances when he had considered himself lucky to be born in a superior, pureblood wizard family, now he was not that certain. Eventually, Draco realized it was all an illusion—a privilege gained by forcing others into submission, conjured by fear and manipulation. And with Voldemort's rise, it was now fueled by the possibility of endless bloodshed.

"You've always been on the side of justice, Granger, where everything is black and white and can be easily forgiven with a hug and a half-arsed apology," he said, sounding intentionally harsh. "You never had to question your existence or your purpose. You just followed your instincts, trusted your friends and enjoyed the benefits that came with it. Who are your decisions hurting?" He then asked, looking back at her. "Because mine will impact my family. They will extinguish generations of beliefs and will endanger our standing in the wizarding world. I can't be confident when Death is constantly looming over my shoulders."

Is he spiraling again?

Hermione panicked. All that progress and established trust would fade away if she didn't play her cards wisely. Perhaps he needed reassurance. The adult Hermione that nestled inside reminded her that sometimes, men needed to be encouraged; in fact, the stronger the man, the more support he needed. She had lost count of how many times she'd had to reassure or uplift male colleagues and superiors whenever they felt overwhelmed by their responsibilities. Furthermore, if Hermione wanted her life at the Ministry to run smoothly, she often had to step back and let her male colleagues take the spotlight. Her wits and academic results were not as appreciated in the workforce as they had been at Hogwarts and, without a politically strong family to back her up, she had to compromise many of her principles just to ensure her position would be safe.

"But you don't have to carry that burden alone anymore, Draco. Things are different now. No matter what, you have our support and I hope you know that I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes, and why is that?" He asked, head fully turned to look at her, trying to discern the truth in the lines of her features. "I keep thinking about it because it doesn't make sense. You already got what you wanted, I'm working with you three, I'm no longer mending that cabinet so why? Why are you still here, Granger? What are you trying to achieve?"

"I'm here because I want to," she said, leaving all doubts behind. Men also needed things to be spelled out for them, Hermione recalled. "I have no hidden interests, Draco. Just…interest."

Fortunately for her, Draco was no fool and immediately picked up on her subtility. He held her gaze for several lingering moments, an internal struggle brewing within him until a faint sigh finally slipped free.

"That interest will bring us nowhere."

"And is that such a bad thing? I'm tired of seeing everything in, how did you put it, 'black and white'? Perhaps, I'd like to do things on my own account this time."

And she meant every word of it. Hermione had had plenty of time to reflect on her past and future, especially on her choices. Yes, pursuing Draco made no sense in the grand scheme of things and while it began as an excuse to sway him to their side, her curiosity had morphed into instinct and currently, it weighed heavily on her heart in sincere inclination. She comprehended the risks of her choices and the consequences of her selfishness. She could foresee the complications of her needs. Yet, concurrently, she started accepting little by little that her life presented various choices and, in her new reality, she chose to be slightly more adventurous with her wants, even if said wants came in the form of someone inherently unexpected.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Granger. Whatever you're scheming, it's not going to work and if, by any chance, you're sincere in your actions then, you should understand better than anyone that you and I can never be together."

"Be together?" Hermione laughed wholeheartedly, surprised to hear him utter such taboo words. "I never pegged you as a romantic. I don't want us to be together, Draco, I just want to follow my instincts and stop being so stubborn and stuck up for a change. I want to listen to my heart, no matter where it takes me. Even if it's for a few moments, I'd like to forget about the past, the future, death and duty and rules and just build up on what I know you're slowly starting to feel too. I know you're considering it, that much is obvious," she said, noticing him gulp down his restraints.

He must have noticed it as well, the way they gravitated toward one another, insults turning into compliments, glares into fugitive looks, small brushes of hands into fledged touches. The way they conversed and interacted had completely transformed, and all his efforts had only served to erode the boundaries between them.

"It's a good…distraction," Draco pinpointed the word despite it being so much more than that but he would be damned before he gave Hermione Granger any other reason to have the upper hand. Whenever she was in his proximity, it did something ungodly to him; it disarmed him to slippery heights and made him act like a spineless idiot.

"Perfect," Hermione agreed, something in her tone telling him she was not truthfully convinced of his bravado. "We're on the same page, then."

"When did it start?" Draco asked out of the blue, looking for answers and reasons for the madness, the same inquiry bothering him for a while now.

She expected that question and while it would have been considerably easier to tell the truth about her dream, Hermione went with the second-best option at her disposal.

"At the beginning of the school year. I've started noticing you more and I suppose, looking at you differently. The more we spoke, the more I wanted to talk to you. Get to know you - the real you. And that was when I realized…"

She paused just enough to slide over to Draco. Before she knew it, her body had reacted per her thoughts. Under his troubled expression, she went ahead and placed her hands on his knees and positioned herself in his lap, shamelessly resting on top of him with full intent.

"...I might want more than your friendship."

With just a few swift movements, she dared straddle him and his mortified expression was the best thing she had ever seen in a while. Even Ron hadn't reacted so obscenely when she did it to him the first time. Draco's pupils dilated to pitch black, mouth opening in disbelief, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as his complaint died out in his throat. He even tried retreating into the wall behind him but that only made his neck and collarbone more exposed, Hemrione's heart rushing in response. It took monumental restraint not to bite him there as she would normally enjoy. She couldn't risk scaring him or angering him even though she could feel his body responding to her, betraying him to the edge of his frustration.

"You can touch me if you'd like," Hermione said, knowing the tantalizing effect words had on inexperienced men.

"I most certainly will not!" He exclaimed, a delicious redness blooming in the hollows of his cheeks, up to his temples. One of his hands went up to cover his eyes when she intentionally pressed herself right below his belt, awakening instincts he had never wanted to experience with her before.

Following her own advice, Hermione glided her hands up those milky arms, fighting the urge to claw at them and unleash whatever morals they had left.

"Suit yourself," she whispered and leaning over, she sprawled herself on his chest, mouth locking onto his before he could even attempt to protest.

This time, however, he did not resist, his body welcoming her before his brain could order him against it. She wondered what was crossing his mind at that moment or if any thought was present at all. He was kissing his nemesis and, by the feel of it, liking it. Did that hurt his pride as much as she guessed it should? But it didn't matter, she had him where she wanted and if the entire world would turn against her, Hermione concluded it would all be worth it. Everything had led up to that moment, with them acknowledging the tension and pull that had been growing between them for weeks, months even.

The more she let him have control, the braver he got. Draco's right hand slid tentatively on her back, eventually resting on her hip and anchoring Hermione in place. The heat from his touch spread like wildfire within her, making it impossible to fraternize with reason anymore. It was far too late to think about all the lines they were crossing, especially when she fit so well into his arms, perfecting a kiss that was never going to be enough for either of them.

Draco's mouth sought hers hungrily, almost desperately, as if trying to earn absolution from her breath. Her tongue brushed his first and he deepened the kiss, twisting it and rendering it intoxicating. They were both drowning in unfiltered greed and now that they each revealed their position on this unusual chessboard, it was as if a dam had broken, flooding their senses into senseless selfishness. His lips against her, with every movement, Draco asked for more, demanded submission but it still wasn't enough, and Hermione felt that if she were not careful, she would lose herself in his typical dominium pattern.

Even so, she sensed he was restraining himself; this was too much passion even for a member of the notorious Malfoy clan. Hermione could feel the tension building up within him, the way his body trembled with the stubbornness to hold back and the peril of what could happen should he decide to surrender to raw instinct. Thankfully still in control of her senses, Hermione gently broke the kiss before it was too late, embarrassed to face the waking beast she was slowly nurturing ever since her return to the past.

She leaned back and looked at him flushed, visibly affected by the weight of his gaze, dark and heavy, neither of them comprehending how a kiss could taste that good. His chest heaved, shoulders expanding in acceptance, vision slowly clearing of any voracious intent until only bewilderment was left. Hermione hadn't anticipated how difficult it would be to stop Draco Malfoy once she got him going.

"Who the hell are you, Granger?" He asked her, even though the question should have been hers to ask.

"Really, Draco, what on earth gave you the impression that you know me at all? You might not want to hear this, but arrogance can sometimes blind you to the most obvious facts about a person. Studies and magic are not the only things that define me, you'd be surprised."

"They will hate you for this if they ever find out," Draco said bitterly, failing to mention that he was more than surprised by her actions. "All of them. Potter and Weasley especially. I'm used to being hated and disliked but you…you understand nothing of it."

"And? They won't hate me as much as I've ended up hating myself in the future," She admitted, recalling how empty and unfulfilled future Hermione was in contrast to the one she was building now.

"I am attracted to you, Granger," Draco admitted in a voice that proved his astonishment. "Even though my mind is repulsed by it, I can't exactly deny it anymore."

His gaze fell on the hand resting comfortably on her hip, forcing himself to keep it there. If he were to retract it, he feared she would notice it be there in the first place and he had to stop adding fuel to the fire or else his ego would suffer an even greater blow.

"I must be insane," Draco continued. "It must be the stress of the whole situation, or the allure of the forbidden because I can't otherwise explain why I'm letting myself do these unthinkable things with you. But it can never go any further than this, Granger. You and I, we're in a physical arrangement, nothing more, nothing less. Do you understand that?"

Of course she understood. She was no longer a naive schoolgirl whose feelings would get hurt; her feelings had already been hurt long into the future, by the one person she thought would always put her first. Draco Malfoy not adhering to a relationship code was simply natural and he wouldn't have to worry about her. No matter how much she would end up liking him, Hermione would never ask more of him.Thatwould be the truly selfish thing.

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Good," he said and she saw his fingers twitch.

Was he stopping himself from touching her? Who knew he only needed just a push? And from the mudblood Hermione Granger, no less.

"As for what people will say about this, you don't have to worry," Hermione reassured in a determined tone, watching Draco Malfoy's eyebrows rise with confusion. "I'll just have to make you a hero. After all, I've done it before."

OOO

The hour was late when Lucius and Narcissa were summoned in the great hall of their own home. Much like them, Malfoy Manor had become a prisoner to the Dark Lord's whims and what was once an opulent and imposing home had now become a place of fear and perpetual dread.

In the dim light of the drawing room, Voldemort's tall silhouette was almost spectral. His reptile appearance looked enhanced and his unnaturally white skin gleamed in the heat of the fireplace behind him. To his right, his faithful Bellatrix stood by his side, eager to please her lord, hanging on to his every last word but when she heard her sister's heels clacking rhythmically on the polished marble floors announcing their arrival, her head turned slightly to regard her and her useless husband.

"My Lord…" Narcissa and Lucius greeted in unison.

"You've asked for us," Narcissa added, knowing Lucius could no longer look Voldemort in the eye, let alone address him without awakening his wrath.

"Yessss," he hissed deceptively sweet, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Draco's progress…has been slow. I hear all of his attempts have been fruitless. Perhaps my expectations are too formidable? After all, he is your son Lucius and you haven't proven yourself to be helpful either, have you?"

"My Lord, Draco is young and inexperienced," Lucius forced himself to speak, trying to stand up for his family as best as he could. It was one to insult and torture him but for the Dark Lord to go after his son, that had been Lucius' most painful regret. In all his attempts to protect his family, he had succeeded the opposite. Now they were under his surveillance and his son was watched closely by Death Eaters and traitors alike.

"...but he is resolute in proving himself worthy of your trust. He will not repeat my mistakes."

"Is that so? I fail to see your son victorious, Lucius. The boy has been coddled all his life when he should have been taught to lead a new generation of Death Eaters for his master's glorious return," Voldemort said in his usually cold tone, moving around the room with eerie, hypnotic grace.

"My Lord," Narcissa intervened. "Draco knows what is required of him. He will not fail you."

"There is no room for failure, Narcissa. Or may I remind you that the only reason you're still allowed to draw breath under this roof is precisely because of your son's mission to kill Dumbledore?"

"Of course, my Lord. You have been very generous," Narcissa said, modulating her voice to be pleasant. As harmless as possible.

However, inside, she was bubbling with fury and fear for her only son's life. She couldn't stand having the Dark Lord in their home, looming over them with promises of death. She knew they were being punished. It was evident why Draco had been chosen for that horrible task and not only did it serve to hurt them but it also kept her and Lucius under the his control. Narcissa had to play the game wisely if she wished to still have a husband and a son by the end of it all. She felt helpless and eternally worried thinking of her son at Hogwarts, doing all those terrible things for their sakes. It did not sit well with her, putting all these responsibilities on his plate and for once, she wished she had not trained him to fear the Dark Lord.

"Yes, I believe so, given your disgrace," Voldemort's voice echoed through the room, laced with mockery and contempt. To his right, Bellatrix approached, hands clasped together at her chest, eyes bulging wide and mad.

"My Lord, if Draco shows any sign of weakness, I will gladly step in and finish the task. He is still a boy who may lack resolve but I am your faithful servant, always and forever. I will…"

"That's enough, Bella," Voldemort raised his hand, interrupting her delirious speech. "This is not your duty to fulfill, it is Draco's. And I am curious to see how he'll fare off, knowing that the fate of his family rests on his weak shoulders. Either way, I expect to be pleased by both outcomes," the lord grinned in malice, exposing his rotten teeth.

The tension in the room suddenly turned unbearable. They all understood the implications of his words. When all of this ended, either Dumbledore or the Malfoys would be gone and Voldemort would be delighted regardless of the conclusion, standing wickedly at the feet of their graves.

OOO

Author's note:What a chapter! Things are finally getting a bit serious and heated but it was about time. Slowly but surely, I'm having these two realize that they actually could develop feelings for each other. I finally reached a point where I don't feel matters are rushed because it was very important for me to keep them grounded and true to their characters. Generally, out of the two, I think Hermione would be the one completely opposed to this relationship so thankfully, she's on board in my fanfiction :)) From here on, I can build more on how I see the story evolving and how they'll change the future. Thank you for reading and every comment and kudos is of great help to me! Hugs!

Constance Noria: Thank you so much for your comment and support, it means a lot! Hope you like the latest chapter.