Hey everyone!
I know this chapter is probably a little earlier than expected. But I was just in the mood for writing so I managed to get it wrote in 2 hours today! I want to thank everyone who reviewed it actually is so nice to get reviews throughout my day and get to read them. It's so nice to know people are really enjoying the dynamic between Hermione and Draco.
Please let me know what you think of this chapter.
As always, Much love 3
Hermione's Point of View
"Do you want to ditch Ancient ruins and come to the quidditch field with Ron and me?" Harry asks as we leave transfiguration class. I smirk at him and he laughs nonchalantly.
"In what world, Harry?"
"Yeah, I figured. But it's always worth asking. I feel like we haven't hung out much in the last while. You've been very busy with Prefect duties and helping Professor McGonagall," Harry notes with a sigh.
A tremor of guilt runs through me and I look away, out at the forbidden forest visible through the window. Words swarm up to the tip of my tongue but I bite down on them. A small part of me wants to just spew it all out like word vomit so it can't hurt me anymore. It constantly swirls in my stomach waiting for an outlet. But if I was to tell him right now everything that I know, who knows what would happen. He could run straight to Dumbledore and tell him and then I would have to tell Dumbledore. Who knows in what way? There could be an inquisition, a meeting where I have to stand up in front of the teachers and Malfoy and rat him out. I can't decide If that's something that I feel like Malfoy deserves. To be put through something like that for a choice he claims what not his own.
Since everything that Ginny had said last week, I find myself looking at things a little differently now. Anytime I have to make a decision I find myself thinking of all possible outcomes and choices. Even when I see others making decisions. It's become quite tiresome and time-consuming but regardless I cannot make it stop. Maybe it hadn't occurred from what Ginny had actually said but more from the idea that she had thought me small-minded. That had hurt.
"Will you hang out with us in the common room later?" Harry asks.
"It's Thursday Harry. I have my rounds from 9 to 10, remember? But I'll try to come quickly after. You could always come hang in the library with me after classes?" Harry laughs in response.
"Hermione you always shush me if I try to talk too much," Harry says.
"That's because you don't have an indoor voice, Harry. You can't yell in the library!" I exclaim and Harry laughs in return.
"Whatever, crazy! I'll see you later in the common room," Harry says as he turns in the opposite direction, heading back towards the Quidditch pitch.
I turn and head towards the bridge. When I get outside, I pull my hood over my head as a cold January breeze whips fiercely through the open arches in the bridge. My hood suddenly flies down as I struggle to pull it back up and hold all of my books in one hand. In the midst of my struggle, my foot gets caught on a slight incline on the ground and I tumble forward, spilling my books across the ground. I look ahead a notice no one is ahead of me and sigh in relief. But it doesn't last long.
A horde of laughter erupts from behind me as Crab and Goyle walk around me on the bridge and turn to face me.
"What a clumsy Mudblood," Goyle exclaims. He pulls out his wand and mutters something. A string of my hair acts as if attached to the tip of his wand for a moment as he moves it so the hair jabs me in the eye. I pull the strand of hair away and it seems to disconnect from his wand. I pull my hood up and work on gathering up my books. When the two can see my attention is no longer on them, they continue their walk across the bridge, cackling loudly as they move. I leave the books and stare at the tiny drop of blood running down my leg. I swipe it away with my sleeve and gladly it doesn't bleed anymore. I pull my black socks up high over my calf to cover it.
For a moment there is a strange feeling as if my body is not my own as a swift movement of air puts me back on my feet with a jolt. I look down at the ground as the books, one by one restack and fly up into my arms. I grab them and hold them close as Malfoy walks past. He doesn't look at me. Instead, he pulls up his hood as she slumps past me, his robe billowing in the wind behind him. He puts his wand back into his pocket. He doesn't turn or acknowledge me in any way. I stare after him in complete surprise and bewilderment.
"You don't have to walk with me, Ginny," I say. Ginny smiles and links her arm through mine.
"I have half an hour to kill before I'm supposed to meet up with Dean Thomas anyways," she admits to which I roll my eyes at her.
"Why are you dragging that poor boy along. He adores you," I say. Ginny giggles.
"He's a really good kisser, Hermione. But he's dull as dishwater. If he wasn't such a good kisser I would have dropped him a long time ago," she admits confidently. I wish I had half of Ginny's confidence sometimes. She has this air about her that just follows her everywhere. Sometimes when I'm around her I can feel it having an effect on me because I know it when she's gone. She is the kind of person that does make you want to be a better version of yourself. She seems to drag that out of people. I think she would be better suited to my situation.
"Speaking of which…" Ginny says rather suspiciously. I pull away from her.
"Don't you start, okay! I'm doing my rounds I can't be distracted by your nonsense right now," I exclaim, turning away trying to look busy, hoping she might believe it and drop the topic she's about to address.
"Oh, Hermione come on it's dead around the castle tonight. I heard the Ravenclaws were having a secret party so everyone is already at that," Ginny explains. "No one is going to be out walking around at this time," she adds.
"Oh, great so I'll have to go break that up later and be the bad guy again." I sigh.
"Stop changing the subject," Ginny whines tugging on my arm. "Let's just talk girly for like 5 seconds and then I promise I won't ask again for like 2 weeks," Ginny bargains. I laugh loudly as we pass Slughorns classroom. It causes emotions to rise inside me as I remember all the secret words Malfoy and I shared in that classroom.
"Ginny, I don't know," I say, embarrassed.
"Let's just talk for 5 minutes. No restrictions. You can say whatever you want and I won't judge you," Ginny pushes. I sigh, slumming down my shoulders.
"Okay," I finally say. A wide smile crosses her face but when she takes in my pained expression she redraws herself properly, wearing a more calm and collected expression. She looks away nonchalantly as she speaks, giving me some privacy I imagine.
"So what was it like? To kiss Draco Malfoy," she asks. I can tell by the tone of her voice shes trying really hard to sound not bothered by the whole conversation. I smirk a little as we round another corridor. I pull my robe tight to my chest as we pass the door for the bridge. I think about what Malfoy did today, helping me with my books. I turn back to the question at hand and ponder back to that day almost two weeks ago now.
"I don't know, Gin. It was my first real kiss and I wasn't even prepared," I say, shyly, remembering how much the kiss had shocked me.
"What do you mean? Didn't you kiss Victor Krum?" Ginny asks.
"Well, yes. I did. Well I mean it was just different. With Victor, he didn't really kiss like what I imagined kissing was supposed to be like. He would just press his lips to mine and hold them there for a few seconds. Sometimes it was actually quite uncomfortable. Like kissing a corpse." I look over at Ginny's eager expression as she laps up this conversation. My cheeks turn red.
"Ginny I really can't do this conversation. I'm turning into a strawberry," I admit, pressing my cold hands against my warm cheeks in an attempt to cool them down.
"No, you're doing great. You agreed to 5 minutes! Now, was Malfoy more of what you were expecting?" she asks and I sigh.
"Yes, I don't know. I guess so. Yes," I say, my voice rambling embarrassingly. I grew up as an only child and although my parents and I were very close we never really talked much about feelings so. Ginny and I only really became close in the last 2 years of school and as much as she had always tried to drag these kinds of conversations out of me, they're harder than I imagined.
"Do you think he liked it?" She asks and I stop. I had used all of my self-control to not think too much about to kiss because I didn't want to have to deal with the emotions that came with it. But now with Ginny's excessive questions, I feel as though I am right back there.
I think back to the feeling of his callous fingers against my neck and how he tilted my head back to deepen the kiss. I think of how his lips felt against mine, so warm and educated. It was a thousand times different to kiss Draco Malfoy than to kiss Victor Krum. He had been the same age then as Malfoy is now but he didn't have anything on Malfoy as much as it confuses me to admit that to myself.
Feelings start to rise inside me as heat pulses out of me. I walk over to the wall nearest to the window and crack it open a little, allowing some air to hit against my neck. Ginny comes over and puts her hand reassuringly on my shoulder.
"What's wrong?" she asks. I inhale and exhale deeply trying to clear my head but tears suddenly start to fall down my face.
"Ginny what am I supposed to do with this?" I ask, my voice shaking. I clear my throat loudly.
"Ginny, why would he kiss me like that? What is he trying to do? What's his goal here? I just don't know how to deal with this!" I exclaim, my voice cracking. I clear my throat loudly again trying to regain some control but I can't stop the tears from falling. My emotions feel right on the surface, all spilling out at once.
"It's okay, Hermione. Just breathe. Here," she says handing me a tissue she pulled from her robe pocket. I dry my eyes roughly and blow my nose loudly.
"Have you ever considered the idea that he might like you, Hermione? That maybe he always kind of has?" Ginny hands me another tissue when I soak the first one. I laugh a little at her comment.
"Yeah, it was really obvious those first few years of school when he was constantly bulling me," I laugh. But what she's saying suddenly clicks in my head.
"You don't actually believe that, though right?" I reply frantically.
"Well, my mother said that old saying to me so I'm sure your mother said it to you," Ginny replies with a smug half-smile. She's right, my mother had said it when I was younger. That if a boy was mean to you it was because he liked you. I had been so young when my mother had first said it, I hadn't given it much thought. I remember coming home crying from Primary school because Chris Laffan has pushed me off the swing and I had scraped my knee. My mother told me he must have a crush on me.
"Ginny that's just something mothers said to little girls. It's not actually true," I push. Ginny raises her shoulders in a shrug.
"Well I mean seeing as he was kissing you two weeks ago, I would say maybe this is a case when it might actually be true," Ginny argues. "Think about it for a second. He saw you the first day of school and say maybe he thought you two could be friends but then he found out you were a muggle-born. So, maybe he was angry because his father had taught him that that was wrong so maybe he hated you instead. And we both know what they say about love and hate." Ginny smiles smugly to herself.
"That's a lot of maybes Ginny," I say wiping the remaining dampness from my cheeks. "I think you're clutching at straws," I add.
"And I think you're avoiding any logical explanation, "Ginny argues.
"Yes because there isn't any logical explanation. It doesn't make sense for Malfoy to suddenly…" I trail off.
"…want you?" Ginny fills in. I shrug, unsure.
"When did this start?" Ginny asks, a strange concentration coming over her face. She grabs my shoulder as realisation replaces concentration.
"What?" I ask, a nervous laugh escaping.
"I've been such a fool," Ginny says aghast. "The award! This all started after the award. Whatever he saw in that vile, it changed him, Hermione," Ginny shouts. I shush her automatically even though the corridors are empty.
"I don't think so, Ginny. He told me what he saw. Well, he gave me an idea," I admit.
"What did he see? Why haven't you told me this already?" Ginny exclaims a little hurt.
"It was a while ago and I didn't want to hurt your feelings because I knew you wanted me to be with Ron," I say.
"Hermione, I just want you to be happy is all. I thought you liked Ron and that's why I was encouraging it," Ginny explains. "What does this have to do with Ron?"
"Malfoy initially asked me to stay away from Ron…romantically," I say shyly, gauging her reaction.
"Why?"
"He said that he saw me die if I was with him," I explain. Ginny weights this up.
"And what? You believe that?"
"Well, yeah?" I ask, confused.
"It doesn't add up, Hermione. It doesn't make any sense. If he didn't care he would have said nothing to you and let you die. But he told you. He warned you because he cares and in that warning, he also made sure nothing romantic happened between you and Ron. Something would have happened if he hadn't said anything, am I right?"
"Well, I mean, I suppose so. That would have been the natural progression," I admit. Saying that out loud makes me feel horrible. Like Ron wasn't a choice but something I had to fall into. It makes me feel terribly sad about the situation now and in some ways, I'm glad Malfoy brought me to this conclusion before I got involved with something that would have been near impossible to leave.
"There is more, Hermione. I'm willing to bet that Malfoy is just a cauldron of secrets."
"That I agree with," I say.
"He saw more than he's letting on in that vile," Ginny says musingly. She glances down at her watch and her face lights up in surprise.
"Oh, I was supposed to meet Dean 10 minutes ago," Ginny exclaims, turning away.
"We're not finished this conversation though," she says pointing at me as she takes off down the corridor, waving as she disappears. I laugh a little, wiping a hand against my cheek to make sure it's dry. I feel a little lighter after the conversation.
I exhale and gather myself as I make my way down the opposite direction to Ginny. I walk back the route I've already taken and stop when I reach the door to the bridge. I can almost see how cold it is outside and yet something seems to call out to me. Inviting me out into the cold with a false offering of warmth and peacefulness. I oblige.
When I push open the heavy double doors the cold assaults me. I pull my robe tight around me but something stops me from casting a warmth charm. Something about the cold clears the fog in my head and sobers me up against all these heavy, drunken thoughts. I walk out to the centre of the bridge, feeling lighter and clearer with every step. Something about the breeze reminds me of the steep hills I use to sit on behind my house, watching the cars pass on the motorway.
I hear the double doors creak out and the breeze tells me who it is before I see him.
Draco's Point of View
I find her on the bridge and I watch her for a moment through the stained-glass windows in the double doors. The wind causes her hair to pull upwards, swirling all around her face as she stares out over the river. What the hell is she doing? She's going to freeze to death out there. I pull open the doors and the wind immediately cuts through me.
I make my way towards her. She looks a little right in my direction but doesn't take her eyes off the ground as I approach. I watch as she pulls her robe tighter around her. I stop a couple of feet away from her and just stare at her, unsure of what to do. I had actually expected her to walk away the closer I got. Now finding myself uneasy I simply lean against the wall beside her and stare out at the river below.
"You're going to get sick if you stay out here," I say, uneasy. I hear a faint laugh in return. She turns towards me with a clear sober expression. I inhale sharply, taken aback by the conviction and certainty in her eyes. If this is the game we're going to play I can accept. I run my hand through my hair and rewire my face to match hers.
"That all you've got to say?" she asks sharply.
"What else to do you expect?" I ask. She huffs and I expect her to storm away but she doesn't. She turns back and stares out again. I furrow my eyebrows together as I watch her. Has the cold gotten to her and made her delusional?
"I guess I expected more, Malfoy," she says, quietly, more to herself.
"What do you want, Granger?" I ask, curious. How does she want this to go? As much as it makes me uncomfortable, I am aware that the ball is in her court, somewhat.
"Something you won't give me," she answers, smugly.
"And that is?"
"Answers," she says curtly.
"Do you have the questions?" I ask, smugly. She laughs half-hearteningly but it doesn't reach her eyes.
"I have the questions and you have the answers. But we keep them to ourselves. Isn't that always the way?" she laughs sardonically.
"Isn't that just the game we play?" I ask.
"Aren't you tired of playing this game? Or is it all just a game to you?" she asks, turning back to me with an intensity that causes my stomach to tense.
"This is what we do," I say, my voice convincing.
"We? This is what you do, I just used to play along with it out of curiosity. But I don't think I will anymore. Maybe then you'll get bored and this can finally be over," she says, her voice low and serious. I step towards her and she backs into the pillar.
"Malfoy, don't!" She warns pressing her hands against my chest when I step forward again. When she touches me a current passes from her body to mine and I know she feels it too because I can see the uncertainty in her eyes.
"You don't get to just back out Granger. Nothing has changed," I explain.
"Everything has changed, Malfoy!" She screams, her voice echoing around the empty spaces of the bridge.
"You're a …." I watch the fear pass over her face and it becomes clear what she thinks of me in that second.
"Say it," I shout back at her, my chest rumbling with the force of it. Her face drops slightly but she regains some of her fight back.
"You're a Death Eater, Malfoy. Why would you ever allow something like that to happen?" She asks, a begging tone hidden underneath.
"I already told you," I start. "There was no choice. There was no conversation. It was just one day I went to get my mark the same way you go to sleep at night. Like it was completely normal and natural because that's the way it was always going to go. I always knew that." I admit. I watch the way Granger's expression changes from horror to pity continuously.
"There was no choice for me, Granger. There never was," I admit, sadly. Grangers hands on my chest change from pushing to sitting completely still. They've warmed against my robes.
"So you thought you'd make a choice for me? Keep me away from Ron to prevent me from dying?" she asks, staring up at my face.
The cold has frozen her face in his glass-like appearance where one touch might crack it and she could fade away into the cold breeze. But her rosy red cheeks prove that there is some life still left in her, matching her deep red lips. Another factor from the cold.
"Actually, I thought saving you could make up for all the shit I have to do," I say, but catch myself. Fear runs through my core. I hadn't meant to say that but I had gotten side-tracked looking at her face. I curse myself inwardly.
"What have you been asked to do?" she says, obviously immediately picking up on it. I step back, cursing myself inwardly again as her hands fall away from my chest and sit awkwardly at her sides. There's panic in her voice as she speaks and I think of the severity of the situation all of a sudden. What would people say if they were to walk out on the bridge now and see us standing her actually talking? My how the rumours would spread.
"Come on," I say, grabbing her wrist as I pull her across the bridge. She follows reluctantly and to my surprise doesn't pull her wrist back. I pull her arm quickly causing her jacket to push back and I wrap my hand around the bare flesh of her wrist where her skin is warm and soft. She stumbles a little but keeps following.
Inside the double doors, I hear the noise of footsteps down the corridor. I look back at her and her eyes are huge with fear. I slide my hand down and grab her hand, pulling her frantically as she stares at the direction in which the footsteps are coming.
"Move it, Granger," I urge and she finally follows. I pull her into the first classroom I see and we both rush to close the door causing it to bang a little louder than I would have liked. We both stand there pushing on the door, her body in front of mine, both our arms outstretched towards the door. Her back pressed against my front as we listen carefully.
"What if they come in here?" Granger whispers as the footsteps get louder. I shush her as I try to listen and pray they go down the opposite corridor or across the bridge. But they draw closer and voice start to take shape. When they come up to the door Granger pushes back away from the door, flush against me and heat drops to my groin. I drop my head onto Granger's shoulder as the footsteps stop outside of the door. I drop my arms from the door and without much thought, I bring them in front and wraps them around her. One low around her waist and one high around her shoulders and I pull her close. She inhales loudly as the voices outside become recognisable.
"Don't speak," I warn quietly into her ear as I pull her slowly back away from the door. I pick her up and move as slowly and smoothly as I can back through the rows of desks and table. When I step up onto the podium the teacher's table is located on, it creaks ever so slightly. I curse and move quicker backwards behind one of the enormous mahogany bookcases. The classroom door swings open slowly as Granger and I disappear into the darkness castes by the bookcase. I pull her back against the wall and lower her slowly down on top of my shoes. She awkwardly drops her feet down either side of mine trying not to make a sound. I keep my arms wrapped tight around her as we stand as still as possible.
I watch as Blaise and Pansy enter the classroom through a gap above the books and the shelve above it. Granger isn't tall enough to see so she stares nervously ahead, her body shaking against mine. I bring my mouth down close to her ear and brush the hair back behind it before I speak.
"It's Blaise and Pansy," I whisper as quietly as I can. "Don't make a sound," I warn. I feel her head nod against my chest.
"Pansy what are you doing?" Blaise asks, irritation present in his voice.
"Didn't you hear that? I could have sworn we were going to run in on some third years shacking up in here?" Pansy answers, her voice disappointed. I pity any third years she's caught before. They would never be able to live it down. I think what she would say if she were to walk around this bookcase right now. I would certainly never live It down.
"Come on, let's go back to the common room. There's no one here," Blaise calls.
"Hey, while we're here," Pansy starts with a raised eyebrow and Blaise laughs.
"Thought Malfoy was more your type? Or Nott?" Blaise replies smartly.
"Hmm, jealous I never give you any attention? And for the record I don't have a type," Pansy says seductively. I watch as she makes her way across the classroom towards Blaise and wraps an arm around his neck, leaning in for a kiss. Granger's body goes stark still as the sound of kissing fills the silence of the classroom. I look away and bow my head down onto Granger's shoulder again, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. I try to think of anything else besides the sounds of kissing when Granger is so dangerously close to me. Her behind pressing dangerously against me. A sweat slithers up my back as I try to think of distractions.
I hear the sound of chairs scraping against the floor as Blaise and Pansy drag two tables together and continue kissing on top of them. This can not actually be real life.
"Fuck sake," I curse low under my breath into Granger's hair. Against my forearm, her chest rises and falls rapidly her breathing becoming a little loud. Is she panicking?
"Breathe," I whisper low, brushing my lips against her ear as I speak. She shivers. I extend my arms out as she inhales and pull in when it's time for her to exhale, regulating her breathing until her chest slows gradually.
"Good girl," I murmur against her ear. She shivers again. I feel myself getting hard and if she can feel it, she's doing a good job of hiding it.
Pansy whines loudly and I turn to see Blaise stepping down from the table.
"Why are you stopping?" She asks, buttoning up her shirt.
"Cause I'm not about to fuck you against some old wooden tables. Come back to my bed," Blaise suggests.
"What about Malfoy?" Pansy asks and my name in her mouth makes me feel sick.
"Doesn't matter. He doesn't sleep much anymore anyway," Blaise says. I hadn't noticed that he had noticed that. Pansy gathers her things off the table and finishes buttoning up her shirt as Blaise opens the classroom door for her. When the door is shut, we wait, listening as their voices drift away. When it's been silent for an entire minute Granger pushes away from me and takes a few steps before turning around.
Her expression is so hard to read because it is like looking at a painting. One that you know is beautiful but you don't fully understand. One of the ones that knowledgeable men would study and argue over and would hang in a museum somewhere.
"I cannot do this with you," she cries her voice breaking. She puts up her hands and shouts when I automatically step forward.
"I can't do it, Malfoy. It's tearing me apart. This is tearing me apart," she says pointing between us frantically.
"I can't do it," she says again.
"I can't do what you're asking me to do," she sobs, tears running down her face. She keeps her hands outstretching as a warning against any of my advances.
"And what am I asking you to do?" I bark back, unsure of how to handle her sobbing so frantically. I watch as her chest heaves again.
"You know what you're asking of me. Every time you touch me you know what you're asking and I just can't. I can't," she says, her voice trailing off into incoherent rambling.
"Granger-
"I don't know if I can ever forgive you for lying to me about being what you are," she says and her words cut through me.
"Granger-
"And I know you said it wasn't a choice and I understand that, Malfoy. But to some extent, we have control over our own lives. It only becomes a lack of a choice when we chose to allow something to happen," she says, her voice low.
"Do you not see how crazy all of this even is? Every time I stop and think about the fact that this conversation is even happening, I think it's barbaric!" she exclaims throwing her arms out in frustration.
"Harry is my best friend, Malfoy," she says suddenly, changing the atmosphere, her eyes turning solemn and sad.
"I know th-
"There is a line in the sand, Malfoy. You and I are on different sides," she says.
The worst part is that her words cause such a reaction in me. They cause this anger to rise inside me and I have to use all my strength to keep it at bay because even though she rises it, it is not aimed at her. It is aimed at me because I know that she is right. Everything that she is saying is right and with each logical word, we get further and further away from what I saw in her future. But that doesn't mean that it is gone.
"What do you want from me, Granger? What do you want me to say? Cause I know you have it all probably worked out in your head?" I ask, stepping closer till her hand is pressed against my chest again. She looks down at the space in between us as she uses her shoulder to wipe away some of the tears.
"I don't know," she admits, sniffling.
"Yes, you do. Now, what do you want?" I ask again. She dries her eyes and stares up at me with bloodshot eyes all red and swollen.
"Say something that makes sense, Malfoy? For once?"
I smile down at her, smugly.
"I think that you will forgive me," I say and her mouth falls open a little. "Eventually," I add. She huffs.
"Wishful thinking, perhaps?" She smiles smugly in return. I reach up and take one of her hands on my chest and give it a squeeze.
"Actually, I've seen it," I admit with a smug raise of my eyebrows. Her own eyebrows shoot up when she realises, I'm talking about her future. While the realisation sets in, I turn on my heel and leave her standing there in confusion.
On my way out I make sure to leave the door open. At least on my side.