March 13, 1999
"Remind me again what a dentist is?"
"A muggle occupation specialising in oral hygiene."
"Uh huh. And this place called Brown—?"
"A university in America."
"Right." Ginny paused, her confusion becoming only increasing with each passing second. "It's safe to assume the rest of these are all muggle, then?"
Hermione pursed her lips in response.
She had expected letters to start showing up around this time, though not this many in the span of a single morning. And of course they would arrive on the night she wasn't in. Naturally, Ginny was already awake by the time she returned to their dorms. Supplying with endless teasing and remarks for being gone all night. Prior to a much needed shower and a quick breakfast, she had the intention of heading to the library to study make up for lost time. Though her head space was already occupied.
Before receiving the various acceptances and offer letters, she knew she would never be able to let go of magic entirely, nor did she have any desire to. Her ambition of a successful career within the Wizarding community remained, but at the end of the day, she desired a way to evade publicity and tabloids or anyone who could easily spot her on the pavements. It made settling in a muggle neighborhood all the more tempting. Perhaps an area within walking distance to her favorite theatre.
Or easy access to the restaurants she frequented as a child.
The few pieces of her childhood she could hold on to.
"I see." At her silence, Ginny furrowed her brow, giving the letters a final glance before forcing a smile and handing them back over. "Well, I know Harry will get over it but don't bet on Ron taking it well."
"Ginny," she tried.
"I mean, you've seen the man cry. It's not a pretty sight."
Hermione stifled a laugh and couldn't disagree. Though she knew she wasn't deflecting without reason.
"I told you nothing's been decided yet. I'm still waiting on a few more letters. But not a word anyone." Her eyes darted around. "Especially Draco."
Deciding that was reassurance enough, Ginny gave a triumphant grin.
"Don't worry, the boys will hear nothing from me. Not even Blondie."
But Hermione couldn't crack a smile. Instead, her expression grew more seldom.
How was she supposed to tell her that she hadn't discussed any of this with Draco? One could call it being pessimistic. To deem it safer to be realistic than get her hopes up and chance losing him prematurely. After all, just because he abandoned his family's beliefs didn't mean he'd ever entertain the idea of living amongst muggles. And it wasn't like he jumped at the prospect of discussing matters of the future with her.
As much as she coveted considering the possibility, her mind was unable to freely drift when she knew he would never want that kind of life with her.
—would he?
"You're awfully chipper this morning."
Their ears perked up at Blaise's timbre tones revolving around suspicion. They peered inside the entrance of the library to witness he and Theo practically interrogating Draco.
Draco, who mastered the art of indifference, held unmistakable annoyance in his icy glare. He always stood out from everyone else who elected to dress casually for a Saturday. Instead, opting for his crisp Oxfords and pressed black trousers. An alluring image of composure despite having hardly slept the night previous.
Admittedly, he had years of practice.
"I wouldn't go that far," Theo supplied with feign indifference. "Less rigid, perhaps."
Blaise watched curiously while their blond companion ignored them, taking a sizable gulp from his mug. He let a beat pass before following up with, "finally got it all out last night, then?"
Hermione's eyes widened while Draco jerked violently in his seat. Choking.
Righting himself, he managed a hoarse, "what?"
"We assumed you were at the pitch all night," Theo added halfheartedly, his eyes eagerly skimming the contents of the book in front of him. "Winston said you went straight for the showers this morning."
Hermione felt her cheeks heat, cursed with the knowledge of where he'd been last night. Where they'd spent hours chasing high after high and were positively sated and sore by the time the sun came up. Judging by everyone else's reactions, no one seemed to suspect anything. Except Ginny who stared at Hermione with an expression that was nothing short of giddiness and pride.
Draco dismissed their remarks with a lazy shrug. "Time got away from me, I suppose—" he was cut off when Blaise suddenly rose from his seat, startling everyone except him.
"Oh, come off it," Blaise snarled lowly at Draco who simply arched a calculating brow. "This isn't the first time this month. Or even this week—"
"Oi, pipe down you idiot!" Theo hissed. "You're going to get us kicked out!"
While Blaise begrudgingly took his seat, Draco was seemingly unfazed by the display.
"Theo," he began calmly, "I thought we agreed to not bring Blaise to the library when he's being fussy."
"His mum's been getting on him," Theo attempted, but Draco's unimpressed expression didn't falter.
"I've yet to see how this pertains to me."
Letting loose a heavy sigh, Theo closed the book and crossed his fingers over it. A calm demeanor to dampen the pique radiating from him.
"She's been asking about the social event. You know, the one we're supposed to be planning together?"
In an instant, his brow pinched with displeasure and his lips turned downward into a sneer. He hadn't mentioned such an event to her before.
"I told you to leave me out of it."
"Not an option," Theo snapped, clenching his jaw. "We get it, you're still...working things out, but the year's almost over. We need to plan as if everything goes accordingly," he insisted, his voice going low.
"You're being naïve."
"I'm being optimistic," Theo corrected, clearly exasperated, "—though at this point, it'd be less painful asking your infant cousin for help."
Hermione and Ginny shared a pondering glance.
"Maybe we should owl Parkinson," Blaise quipped suddenly.
Theo raised his brow. "Why?"
"So she can do whatever she did at the gala. How else do you think she got him to pull those strings for her?"
A fierce, nasty heat passed through her. Her knuckles turned pale as her grip tightened around her books. The leather of their sacred journal groaned under the stress.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Theo supplied with hesitation. "She's worried enough as is."
The rising anger paused momentarily with befuddlement. Pansy knew about them. And unless the witch was putting up a front to further conceal their truth, she had to consider the possibility of something else; that Pansy was worried about something she wasn't aware of.
Something Draco wasn't telling her.
"Pans and I haven't been involved in years, and I have no intention of rekindling old flames." Beyond the aloof smirk he bore, something seemed to sharpen within him as his voice turned steely, leaving jagged edges in its wake.
Blaise shrugged indifferently.
"A quick shag never bothered you before."
There was a cracking sound. Then, Blaise's mug shattered into a million pieces.
Thankfully, Draco's reflexes kicked in just in time to shield them from the flying shards. But the disruption was loud enough to alert nearby tables. As well as Madam Pince who was stationed a few aisles away. Panicked, Theo kept his head down in his book and Blaise broke into action. Scourgifying the surfaces clean and quickly repairing the mug before the irate librarian arrived. Only when their attentions were diverted did Draco look up sharply, his eyes immediately finding her.
Her wild and frantic heartbeat only being steadied by his level, stoic gaze.
They could just make out Blaise grumbling, 'Merlin's tit, I was only joking.'
He stared at her for a breath while Madam Pince surveyed the area. She left as quickly as she came, but not before giving their table a disciplinary glare as a form of warning. Once she'd gone, Theo sighed out of relief.
Calculating eyes lingered on begrudging ones before falling away.
"So this is about Pansy, then."
"No, it isn't."
"Then quit wasting my time so I can actually get to studying—"
"It's quite simple really," Blaise said stiffly, his smooth voice etched with something bitter. "Given how well things went the last time you hid shit from us."
"You three! Quiet down!"
Theo groaned out of detestation. "Now you've done it."
"Am I not allowed the common courtesy of privacy?"
"Not when you've been occluding around us." If Draco was caught off guard, he didn't show it. Instead, he simply shoved his seat back, stood and said—
"I don't have time for this."
A known defense to avoid confrontation.
"Hang on," Theo blurted, reaching a hand out to stop him mid-packing. "What about Granger?"
In an instant, his demeanor shifted from mild annoyance to something far more minacious.
"Leave her out of this," he said darkly.
Theo's mouth went agape, uncertain of what to make of his hostile aversion. "Mate, she's been asking about you. About your practices—"
Draco let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. Hermione felt it pang in her chest, both from his tone of indifference and his far-too-convincing mannerisms. As if there was a part of him that truly believed she didn't care about him.
"I wish it weren't true, either," Blaise scoffed. "And yet, here we are because for some strange reason, this lovely, capable woman gives a shit about you. So unless you do something, she's going to figure out—"
"We should extend the invitations beyond our house," Draco cut off swiftly, throwing everyone off guard. "Ask Lovegood and that Scamander fellow she's been seeing. Tell Red her she can bring Potter. It gets depressing when there's only us around," he supplied after a beat before continuing to pack his bag.
"You're serious."
Nothing.
"Decades of tradition and you want to break it now?"
Still nothing.
"Draco—"
"We're going to see most of these people again after our time here," Draco quipped, his bag slung over a shoulder. "Might as well make peace with them while we can."
The scheming pair exchanged a glance. Daring the other to say what was on both their minds while he turned to leave.
"And Granger?" Blaise interjected, and Draco stopped dead in his tracks.
Hermione held her breath. Even with the distance, she could see the vein in his neck that would protrude whenever he was refraining from speaking what was on his mind.
With the long pause, they shared another uncertain glance.
Then, the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "I'll ask her myself."
His admission came to a shock to everyone who paid any mind. None of them could believe what he was saying. No one dared to assume. He had taken their temporarily paralysis as his opportunity to make his swift exit. Turning the corner, he came across two eavesdropping witches who were also stunned into silence. Flashing a triumphant smirk, he gave a curt nod as he aimed to stride around them.
As he passed Hermione, he leaned down to whisper, "find me when you're finished with damage control." The sensual, warm caress of his voice only elongated her dazed state and he was down the corridor by the time she could manage any words.
This was it. This was him finally setting the plan in motion to tell everyone. To bring them out of the darkness and into the light.
And in turn, he left her to deal with—
"PRINCESS! YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT WE JUST HEARD!"
Ginny gave her a sympathetic wince. She let out an exasperated sigh.
"I'm going to kill him."
He caught her muffled yelp of surprise with his lips, pressing her back against the cupboard wall and kissing her deeply. He pulled away after a few moments, searching her eyes. "How long do we have?"
"T-twenty minutes until class, and fifteen for—"
"Perfect."
"Gods," she sighed, tugging on silky blonde strands.
"Draco, actually."
"This," she gasped. "This is maddening—"
"You're telling me." He smirked against her jaw. "That bit of accidental magic," his hand trailed between them before landing on the lip of her jeans, "had me hard instantly." He punctuated with a flick of his thumb, slipping a button free. "My possessive little lion—"
Similar to the previous night, there was something in his tone, in his actions, that registered differently. It made her wonder if this had anything to do with Pansy. He didn't give her the opportunity to dwell before he made short work of the rest of her buttons. Working his way beneath soaked lace.
"Draco, wait—" she attempted to protest. But his fingers found her first and she let out a sharp, pained gasp, her entire body seizing in his hold. He fumbled out a curse, halting his movements and wrenching his hand free from her undergarments.
"Are you alright?" He implored, muted concern overtaking whatever lust lingered.
"I'm fine," she grimaced. "You were rather...enthusiastic last night."
She'd cast a few healing spells since then to help dull the ache but they were only so effective. It didn't stop his guilt from making an appearance.
"I didn't say stop," she added boldly.
He arched a brow at her in response. As if to say, no fucking chance.
"You're clever," she taunted with a beguiling grin, yanking him closer by the tie. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."
All residual guilt vanished and the corners of his mouth quirked up. An indication of his approval while his hands slipped around her waist to pull her closer.
Her pulse skyrocketed and she kissed him. Tasted him. Mimicking exactly what she wanted him to do with that tongue of his.
She felt him whisper against her lips. Followed by a slight tingle between her legs. Another healing spell, she realized, feeling that familiar thrill up her spine. A release that had nothing to do with arousal or the promise of rapture.
"Remember, fifteen minutes—"
"Don't worry, this won't take long."
"Arrogant prat," she bit out through a moan.
"Efficient prat," he corrected while sinking to his knees, dragging her jeans and undergarments down with him.
March 14, 1999
"So, are you going to tell me about this social event?"
"You mean you didn't get the full briefing from the lads?" He flashed a knowing grin when she gave him an unimpressed expression.
"Not when I was otherwise preoccupied with 'damage control,'" she retorted sharply.
"You know they can't help themselves," he chuckled. She scoffed, hating that his amusement made her want to smile in return. "Traditionally, seventh year Slytherins throw an exclusive end of year social. Think of it as an opportunity for Pureblood witches and wizards to host a grand event for the first time. Personally, I've always hated the idea of them."
"Really? I would've thought you'd liked the attention."
"Not when I have to share it. Otherwise, what's the point?" he bristled, so utterly posh and pretentiously not unlike his younger self that she had to wonder if he was being serious or not. "Now that the responsibility's fallen onto our shoulders, we've decided to change things up a bit."
"So I heard," she muttered with mild surprise that they were implementing considerable changes. They have indeed come far this year. "When is it?"
"First Saturday in June," he told her.
Her smile faded. Time wise, it was the logical decision. It guaranteed every student would be finished with finals and hadn't gone home yet. But if memory served her, that day marked something else significant—
"And you're okay with that?"
He gave her a strange look.
"Not like I had any other plans." She blinked at him. A part of her wondered if she had the date wrong. He was acting like the day bore no significance to him.
She frowned at his admission but did not bring it up again. Nor did they discuss the latter part of his conversation with Theo and Blaise which involved asking her to accompany him. She wondered if he was still uneasy about disclosing their relationship to them. Given their reactions to the crumb he fed them earlier, she could hardly blame him. So, she switched to something entirely unrelated.
"Have you ever questioned my house selection?"
"Seriously?" He snickered. "Everyone has, Granger. Hell, I'd wager Potter and Weasley have had their doubts."
She hadn't considered them. But if George thought so, then surely—
Realizing she was serious, he sat up straighter, closing his book shut. His attention rapt on her.
"Where is this coming from? Has someone said something?" His tone grew defensive and she could feel a shiver run down her spine.
"It's only been brought up a time or two," she paused, "though I suppose it's a warranted discussion. Even Harry requested to be placed in Gryffindor."
Draco watched her carefully for a few breaths before a small smile tugged at his lips. "Indeed, I too witnessed his quarreling with that manky, old hat," he recalled. "It was uncomfortable to watch."
"It's funny, you tell him magic exists and suddenly he thinks it's all happening in his head like no one else can hear him," Hermione sighed, shaking her head.
"So when he spoke parseltongue—"
Hermione sighed. "Unfortunately, yes." Meanwhile, Draco flashed an amused grin.
"You'd think he'd concur it works the same as any other language."
"Except he didn't know he could speak it. Or that such a language existed," she answered, glaring at him pointedly. "Until someone conjured a snake in a duel meant to disarm—"
He held his hands up in defense. "I took liberties in a literal approach. What do you want from me?"
As of late, the list of wants and needs he could satisfy grew significantly larger. Biting her lip, she let her suggestive gaze rake over his form.
Draco let out a tortured groan, dragging a hand through his hair and glared at her.
"Fucking hell, Granger," he told her. "Don't do that."
"Do what?" she retaliated playfully with a dastardly clever grin. "I'm not doing anything."
A single brow rose in warning.
"I suggest you stop biting that lip of yours," he quipped, smirking. "Or you'll never hear my response to that inquiry of yours."
She'd challenge him if she didn't know he was fully capable of staying true to his word. With a charming smile, he knew he'd won.
Handsome bastard.
"The easy answer would be to tell you that I despise Gryffindors more than anything. So naturally—"
"That's cheating," she deadpanned.
In response, the Pureblooded wizard leaned back, resting his arm along the back of the lounge around her. "Clearly you've forgotten what house I was sorted in."
"I asked for your opinion, not your biased assessment regarding my entire house."
He hummed, giving her a quick look over.
"For starters, you'd have to be brave to dress like you do."
Bracing on an elbow, her head dropped with her fingers rubbing her temple. "I'm already regretting this—"
"Ravenclaw don't have a habit of boasting off all their knowledge like you do." He smirked at her. "Though I do enjoy learning the sinful things you can do with that mouth of yours—"
"You're such a brat!" She tried to smack him but he caught her by the wrist, preventing her from making impact.
"Takes one to know one, love." He chuckled at her scowl, watching at her with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "There's never been any doubt of your brilliance. Entirely driven by passion and your desire to be unrivaled. Unmatched." Her eyes softened at his sincerity. "You get off on the thrill of a challenge." Hermione shrieked when he tugged her forward. "Of accomplishing that which no one else has done and having the courage—and at times, insanity—to do so," he quipped as she fell into him, trapping him with her hands on either side of him to stabilize herself.
"Also explains your strange obsession for bad boys," he crooned, his hands settling on her waist.
She let out a shocked laugh. "I don't have an obsession for bad boys." The room suddenly grew warm.
"What am I then?"
"You? You're hardly a rebel, you were a prefect—" she let a sound when he pinched her side. "You were basically a snitch for Umbridge," she reminded him tartly. Draco practically beamed at her.
"Are you saying I'm a good boy, Granger?" He purred, and she nipped at his nose.
"I'm saying you're a ferret, Draco Malfoy."
"Then your obsession has allowed a measly ferret to possess knowledge of your weak points." His voice lowered, gaining a mischievous lift. "Including that spot behind your ear—"
"Oh god—"
"You know which one, don't you?" he goaded heatedly, tugging her closer. "The one that has you begging in seconds—"
"Stop talking—" she let out a mortified squeak, trying to cover his mouth with her hands. Failing when he caught her flailing arms with ease. So instead, she shut him up by kissing him. By now, he could probably predict when she was about to. It was a useful tactic, really. One that tipped the stalemate of a battle to her favor. One he happily subjected himself to as he slid his arms around her waist and let her kiss him, firmly pressing back.
Eventually Hermione sighed a little in his mouth, and leaned back slightly. "You're never going to be normal, are you?" she asked, and the light in his eyes began to dim.
"If you wanted normal, you should have stayed with Weasley."
She paused in playing with the silken strands lining his forehead. There was something unspoken in his words. A sort of lingering bitterness as if Ron had something he didn't.
Before she could implore on it, he added, "what about my house selection?" She stared at him curiously.
"Your family's been in Slytherin for centuries. Doesn't leave much room for doubts."
"How about a personal assessment?"
"You already know I believe you to be precocious. And an outright tyrant, at times."
"What else?"
She took a moment to ponder over his inquiry. His nose traced along her hairline. Her eyes fluttered closed as a heat flickered to life within her. A flame that never truly went away since the start of term.
"Draco—"
He'd gone behind her ear. Straight to that aforementioned spot.
"Saying my given name won't answer the question, love," he emphasized with a fervid kiss. "Keep going."
"Your resourcefulness enables you to think on your feet in times of dire. This is because when you learn, you don't simply absorb knowledge," he licked along her neck, "you take it," she gasped, "exploit it," her grip on him tightened, "—and use it to get what you want."
He gave a pleased smirk.
"Most brilliant of our age, indeed."
With her patience reaching its breaking point and the heat rushing downward at his purr of approval, she swiftly captured his lips. The kiss quickly escalated, incessantly growing in intensity and beyond their control. Before too long, the makeshift fireplace suddenly roared, a folded sheet of parchment materializing in its embers. Bemused, they watched as it gracefully fell to the floor.
Hermione climbed off from his lap, watching as he buttoned his shirt and collected the parchment. Looking closely, she could just make out the edges of a large 'M' on the dark green seal before Draco broke it. With a furrowed brow, Draco's eyes darted back and forth in rapid motions.
"What is it?" She pulled her jumper down, watching as his expression hardened before he pocketed the letter and began to pack his belongings.
Frantically.
"My father's demanding an audience."
Despite the insistent tugging in her chest urging her otherwise, she let him go.
March 26, 1999
As they entered the second half of term, the workload increased. Meaning any time spent together became entirely devoted to schoolwork. She never did ask how things went with his father. Then again, was it really any of her business? It wasn't like he confided in her unless she pried. It seemed talking about his father was a sore spot if their last conversation regarding him was any indication. Maybe she didn't want to know anything that involved Lucius Malfoy. Or more realistic, the hesitance in approaching Draco stemmed from her desire to avoid being anything like his previous.
Even though the moments they shared grew shorter and uneventful, she was grateful for the peace and quiet. While she took great enjoyment in being solitary with him and academia, something felt...off.
The past few nights, he made the proclamation of retiring to his dormitories after a mere hour or so of studying. She assumed it was to spend more time with his mates so she never questioned it. And at least he'd been consistent so she could expect him to leave around half seven. Except they mentioned offhandedly that they wouldn't see him until late or the next morning.
Then there was the dueling session this past weekend for DADA. When he stepped on the platform, he'd been composed. But once the duel commenced and the first spell was set loose, she couldn't believe what she was witnessing. His casting had been unpolished, consistent only in missing their mark. She'd never seen him take so many hits before, especially from a fourth year. His delayed reactions simply didn't make sense when you took into account his years of experience.
He'd brushed it off as having an off day.
But perhaps the most telling sign of all happened just moments ago.
They'd begun their usual routine, books open and exchanging the occasional question and answer responses. Time continued to pass and upon glancing down at her timepiece, it was nearing half eight. For some reason, he wasn't in a hurry to leave. She looked up at him. His eyes raised to meet hers, darkening with intent.
Within minutes, they'd divested of their clothes. Her head was thrown back. Her curls wildly cascading down her back and her body glistening as she rocked from above.
Delirious and drunk on the feel of him, her praises of 'yes, Draco, yes' came out in babbles. Just as she reached her peak, she heard it.
A soft snore.
She withheld her moan, her teeth clenched and grinding as she tumbled over the edge.
As her pants receded, she blinked her eyes open and looked down.
He'd fallen asleep... During sex.
The next few minutes went by slow as she carefully dismounted him, taking extra precautions as to not disturb him. As quietly and efficiently as she could manage, she cleaned them off and let him rest with the intention of bringing up his questionable behavior tomorrow. When she covered him, the temptation to curl next to him made itself apparent. Except he'd taken up the entirety of the sofa and she didn't want to chance waking him prematurely by casting an expansion charm. Regretfully, she returned to her dormitories that night.
The next morning, Hermione headed to the Room with a noticeable pep to her step as she carried a bundle of croissants and cups of piping hot tea. Her brilliant smile faded when she saw the sofa was empty.
March 31, 1999
"He looks dreadful," Luna whispered under her breath.
"Who?" Ginny implored with a spoon halfway to her mouth, turning her head around to find where the blonde's attention was fixed. With bated breath, Hermione did the same.
Draco was sitting in his usual spot during meal times, appearing bored while mindlessly nodding along to whatever Theo was saying.
"He looks fine to me," Ginny remarked, unimpressed. She turned back to polish off the rest of her dinner while Luna shared a concerned glance with Hermione.
On the contrary, he did look fine. From an outsider's perspective, nothing was visibly alarming at first glance. Except Hermione wasn't just any other student. And Luna was...Luna. She noted that upon his return from the impromptu visit with his father, his usual stoicism fell short. His piercing, silver eyes lacked the cold intensity behind them. His remarks didn't have their usual drawl. Hell, even his posture was off. Dare she say and hope he never hears of it from her... He was encroaching on slouching territory. Something she didn't even know it was possible for him to do.
In the days that passed, they didn't discuss his falling asleep mid-shag. In fact, he denied any indication he'd done anything other than sleep the entire session. At first, she assumed he was lying to defend his pride. Though as the days passed, she couldn't help but think he was telling the truth.
Their last session two days ago ended abruptly when she tried to ease his tensions and he'd told her he wasn't in the mood.
Hermione hadn't known how accustomed she was to wanting to have an indecent quantity of sex with him until he abruptly stopped wanting to have any sex at all.
No sex. Hardly any snogging. He barely even let her touch him. Claimed he was too tired. Too stressed.
Then there was the occasional twitch in his eyes. The click in his jaw. The tightness in his shoulders when anyone got too close to him.
He'd become restless, she realized. And she needed to find out why.
If he wasn't responding through the journal and stopped coming to their sessions, then study hall was the ideal time to confront him. Thankfully, it was Potions today and Callan was exceptionally motivated to finish in a timely manner. Not even an hour in and he was already out the door. Just as she finished packing, she noticed Heidi was also making her exit. Which left Draco alone at their workstation to clean.
Without a second thought, she stepped in to help. Within minutes, the soiled cauldron was restored to its pristine condition. Copious vials were returned to their original shelves. Once everything was cleared, they left together. The pair sustained an identical pace, remaining silent until they were a comfortable distance away from any nosy peers.
"Heidi was oddly prepared today," he stated, unprompted. "I assumed Calvin was the culprit—"
"Callan told me they had a study date in the library. It's romantic—"
"It's unworldly," he corrected. "She's far too unpredictable. And he, too eager."
"What, are you playing matchmaker now?"
"I'm being realistic. That girl is only going to shatter his hopes and dreams."
"They're fourth years, Draco," she deadpanned, unimpressed.
"Indeed. A shame to have been ensnared at such a young age," he feigned concern. "He's lost to the world as we know it."
"It's endearing, you melodramatic cad." She rolled her eyes at him—ironically, in an endearing manner. "Though I suppose you wouldn't understand with your lack of emotional range."
"My ability to feel isn't entirely nonexistent."
"Oh? And how do you fair with empathy?"
"Unfortunately, what little I have is reserved for one person."
She pondered for a moment, letting loose a considering hum.
"Your mother?"
His lips quirked into a smile. A brief, rare thing to see in the open. Even rarer in the past few weeks and she had to suppress the ache it caused in her chest.
"Full marks, Granger," he chuckled.
Moments like this made it all the more difficult to question him, knowing her inquisition would be the reason for that smile to disappear. It was one thing to confront him but to willfully disregard what was wrong was against her nature. Her overall attraction to the man certainly wasn't helping. Merlin, she'd already slept with him—several times. Merlin forbid she ever struggled with getting her words out. Her. Of all people.
Her mouth opened but a taunting male voice cut in from behind.
"Well, well...what do we have here—?"
And just like that, that beautiful smile vanished. Both turned to see a familiar wizard approaching them. The red and gold matching her own robes were proven earned in his arrogant stride. His hands buried in his pockets with a snide grin on his face. "Moved on to the next one already, eh?" Between her and Draco, she couldn't tell who he was addressing but that didn't stop the dread from creeping in. Or her gaze from darting around furtively. Clegg took notice, his grin widening.
"Don't worry, Princess. No one's paying attention to us." She bristled at his crooning. No one else besides Blaise or Theo were permitted to call her that. And she had no intention of changing that any time soon despite the truth he spoke. The few who passed hadn't bothered batting an eye at them.
"You know I'm surprised, Malfoy. After Greengrass, one would think you'd given up on women entirely. Let alone with Granger—"
"Clegg," Hermione warned, fighting the tremor in her voice. Not from discomfort, no. From anger.
"Relax, I'm simply curious since I didn't think you were...his type," he goaded, stepping closer to speak in lower volumes. In spite of his accusational tone, she almost felt bad for Clegg as Draco gave him a look laced with cold anger. The calm before a feral, ice storm.
"I'd be careful with your next words if I were you."
Clegg held his hands up in defense, playing off the twinge of fear she sensed in him. "Just looking out for you, mate. Didn't think you'd be happy with a witch who plans to leave the Wizarding World behind."
Her blood froze over, losing the ability to breathe when Draco's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Or maybe you didn't hear. Don't feel bad. She didn't tell me until our third date."
"They were hardly dates," she hissed. "You spent the majority of the time insulting me—"
"—I couldn't hear any more of that indenturing business you were so keen on entertaining," he sneered distastefully, crossing his arms. Hermione went to correct him but Draco beat her to it.
"Dentists tend to people's teeth, like her parents for example," he supplied with an edge, knowing full and well that Clegg was in the process of following his father's footsteps as a renowned Keeper. "You'd have known that if you didn't love hearing yourself talk so much."
Hermione didn't have the time to process the swelling in her chest before Draco walked off without another word.
"Oof. Temper on that one, eh?" Clegg tsked, and Hermione turned to fix a glare at him.
"He's right. You do love hearing yourself talk," she scoffed before heading after Draco.
But by the time she turned the corner, he was nowhere to be seen.
April 2, 1999
She hadn't been settled for more than a few minutes when someone came to sit beside her in the large, empty courtyard.
Hermione looked over, holding back her confusion when she saw Luna sitting cross legged. Company grew sparse over the past few days since she was hardly in the mood to speak to anyone the past few days.
"Luna?"
"Hello Hermione," she said dreamily. Her attention still fixed on the flowering tree above them.
"What are you doing here?"
"Sitting with you, of course." Hermione continued to stare at her and Luna continued to elaborate. "I assumed you wanted to be left alone. Except if you're sitting here by yourself, chances are others will take notice and stop to talk to you. But if you have someone here with you, they're less likely to approach."
Hermione let loose a sigh of gratitude.
"We could be alone together."
"Thank you."
The Ravenclaw smiled kindly and didn't pry. Instead, she kept to herself. Humming and happily relishing the crisp spring air. The light breeze created a gentle rustle in the leaves. She was so lighthearted and free, without a care or burden in the world. Meanwhile, Hermione couldn't stop thinking about sunken eyes and a gaunt expression from this morning. It'd only been two days and he looked so much worse—
"I think I hurt him," she blurted suddenly.
Luna, on the other hand, did not react and continued to sway. As if she'd anticipated this very reaction from her.
"I kept something from him. Something important." Again, Luna said nothing in acknowledgement, letting Hermione speak freely. "I want to find him, to apologize but at the same time, I know there's something he's not telling me and I don't know how to approach it." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "Clearly there's a boundary neither of us are willing to cross. What does that say about ourselves? How can we dream of a future together if we don't confide in each other—" she trailed off when Luna placed a gentle hand to still her trembling ones.
"It says that you're both willing to take on these burdens so you don't cause the other pain," Luna offered with certainty. "It shows that you care about each other deeply, but don't know how to completely give into it."
Contemplating her response, Hermione released a disgruntled sigh. "Sometimes I wish I could have taken the easy path."
Luna turned to face her, taking both hands in her own, her pleasant smile never faltering. "We both know you don't mean that. But if you want my insight, I would advise you approach him sooner rather than later." Despite the sensible suggestion, Hermione felt chills go down her spine as if there was an underlying warning hidden within her words.
"Right." Hermione retracted her hands and stood. She quietly thanked her and left Luna at the base of the tree as she made her way inside. She barely made it past the second corridor before she was spotted by Theo who looked rather peaked.
"There you are, we need to talk." He sounded winded, like he'd been running to find her.
"Not now. I need to find Draco." She turned about face, nearly running into Blaise who stared at her. Unyielding.
"Draco, is it?"
She went tight lipped, cursing herself for being so careless. Then, she tossed him an annoyed look.
"That is his name, is it not?" she retorted smartly, and he narrowed his eyes at her as she walked around them. "I really have to go so if this can wait, I'll come find you later—"
"Did he also tell you he's been seeing his father?"
Suddenly, the air grew colder. Ice traveled down her spine, rendering her still.
"He's been lying to us, Granger. We know he's been occluding. Chances are he's been doing it to you, too." Thankfully, she wasn't facing them. She didn't have it in her to act surprised. Not when she knew he'd been occluding around them for months. Given their choice of wording, she had a hunch it wasn't for the same reasons she knew of. "We assumed he was hiding something so we did a little bit of snooping—"
Abruptly, she turned to face them.
"You went through his belongings?" She demanded. If she learned anything in their time together, privacy was something Draco valued dearly. Judging by their matching guilty expressions, they knew it well.
"We didn't have a choice," Blaise assured. "He hasn't been sleeping. Half the time, he doesn't even come back to the dorms. The patterns are the same as before."
There it was. The very thing she hoped wasn't true since she started noticing the changes a few weeks ago.
"And," Theo started, "there's something you need to see."
Her eyes fell, finally noticing the sheet of parchment clutched tightly in Theo's hand.
The broken halves of a dark green seal shone back at her.
They'd told her he wasn't at the Pitch, the library, their dormitory or his usual spot in woods. Once they parted ways, the first place she headed for was the Room of Requirement. Once it was deemed unsuccessful, that left one more place...
Hermione stood at the top of the tower, staring at the closed door as though she could see him through it. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for what was on the other side. On a deep inhale, she grasped the knob firmly and turned and pushed.
The door didn't budge.
She tried the doorknob again. Locked.
"Draco, open the door."
No response.
Exasperated, she rolled her eyes and with a wave of her hand, the door clicked open.
A rush of nostalgia hit her when she stepped through and found him at the workbench with multiple books open. One of the notebooks was blank. His robes had been discarded. Sleeves rolled up to the elbow. She focused on his figure when she leaned back against the door to close it, isolating them from the outside world. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he deadpanned.
"Then why are you ignoring me?" As she stared, the notebook with seemingly blank pages began to glimmer, leaving behind ink in its wake. Despite being a good distance away, she could recognize her own scribbling penmanship anywhere.
"I'm not ignoring you," Draco returned as though he would have much preferred not to answer. "I'm studying. The thing we both came here to do, if you recall."
"Really?" She drawled, crossing her arms. "I didn't realize our private conversations were N.E.W.T. worthy material." His icy glare snapped to her and her expression softened when the concern his friends had convened into her own. "Draco, I'm worried about you—"
His chair made a sharp screech when he stood suddenly.
"Stop," Draco exhaled, closing the distance between them in a split second. "Just stop. Stop worrying. I'm not—this isn't—I don't need you to—"
"What, help?" Hermione prompted, looking infuriatingly expectant. "I thought your ego wasn't going to get in the way again. While it is on brand for you," she murmured that last part under her breath.
"It's not—it's not my fucking ego," he snapped, glaring at her. "You're always trying to fix things, and I don't need it fixed right now. Certainly not by you. I just want to—"
"To be angry?" she asked, blinking. "Because you found one person to be disagreeable?"
It was, on the one hand, completely unbelievable that she could resort to such a blatant oversimplification of his feelings, but on the other, it was perfectly on brand.
"Angry? Seriously, is that what you think?" he demanded, stepping into her space and folding his arms over his chest. She glared back.
"So you're not angry?" She challenged.
He gaped at her. "I—" he broke off, staring at her, and she assumed he'd decided there was no further having of this conversation. Instead, he grabbed her shoulders, just firm enough to press her against the door. She lost her breath as he took her in. His grip tightened and his eyes danced back and forth between her own.
"I'm fucking furious," he exhaled in a breath.
And then he kissed her. His hands went up her neck to her face, tilting her head back for him as he stepped closer to her.
She was preening as she brought her hands up to his slender waist. She let him dominate her mouth, taking time to breathe when she could, but his body sandwiched her firmly and his hands held her still as he moved his lips against her.
She felt him slide one hand down her cheek, down her neck, across her ribs and grab her hip, as his mouth kissed her hotly on her jaw.
"Did he ever touch you?"
The harsh whisper whipped at her skin, and she opened her eyes.
"N-no. Never."
Draco threaded his fingers through her hair and tugged until her neck was open to his mouth. His lips moved across her jaw, up to her ear.
"Draco—"
She felt his hips press into hers and the hand on her hip start to slide.
"What other secrets have you told Clegg? Or is it Parker now?" He spat his name in disgust and it sounded wrong.
Wrong.
This was all wrong. His kiss was too abrasive. Too aggressive. Nothing sweet or kind or familiar about it. His touch grew insistent and it was too much. It made her wonder if this was how Pansy felt in that broom cupboard—
"Stop," she gasped. Forcing the thoughts away, Hermione reached her hands up to his face. Forcing him to look at her. "Draco, stop this now." She pulled his face back to meet his eyes. They were clouded, hazy with a belligerence she didn't recognize.
"I know what you're doing, and I'm sorry, I should have told you. But I'll never forgive it if someone as insignificant as Clegg comes between us." His grip on her loosened slightly when she rubbed her thumb across his cheekbone in soothing circles.
She watched him close his eyes, pressing his forehead against hers and evening out unsteady breaths. Eventually, he let go and she let him take his time to compose himself.
"Why." It wasn't a question.
"Courtesy of Ginny's meddling last term. He was meant to be a distraction from something I wasn't able to accept at the time." When he caught on to her implications, his expression didn't soften. "Don't worry. She feels awful about the whole thing."
"You thought I would react like he did."
There was no need to correct him.
"I couldn't chance it." She held his gaze. "Especially not with you being so distant lately."
He sighed, running a hand through unkempt hair. "It's not that simple."
"Enlighten me."
"You heard what Clegg said—"
"His words hold no meaningful impact on me. People like him talk to make themselves feel adequate."
"Until it's not just words, and it won't just be him. There will be others who continue to formulate opinions and share them with those who uphold the same thoughts until one day, those beliefs become powerful enough to act on."
"I doubt that our personal affairs will cause such an extreme reaction."
His jaw clenched as he took her in.
"Then you have no idea of the impact you hold on the Wizarding community. I have generations of cursed legacies piled against me while you're meant to reshape the world for the better." He gave a knowing look at her hesitant gaze. "Don't pretend these thoughts of the future haven't been plaguing you."
Instead of acknowledging the truth in his words, she stepped up to him. "As far as I'm concerned, you're actively redeeming yourself. You're completing your education. You're building a name for yourself without the hindrance of your fath—"
"The whispers won't stop," he affirmed. "They'll be worse. Far worse. Everywhere we go, there will be scandal permanently attached to us. Your name will be tainted with mine. I can't take you to the theatre or to those bookstores you talk about all the time without constantly worrying about a threat hanging over our heads."
She took a minute to observe him. Something that lingered between unspoken words. "You've given this quite a bit of thought."
Despite the turbulent storm brewing in his eyes, he managed a bittersweet smile. "I've told you. You're all I can think about most days."
"Then let me help you."
He shook his head. "Granger—"
"Tell me who you've been meeting with."
Draco tensed, unable to keep his exhaustion, his anger, from his features.
"Theo and Blaise found your letter. They told me you'd been leaving around the same time every night to meet your father. Which lines up with what you told me. Except," she held up the repaired wax seal. The 'M' was complete and the dragons lining the Malfoy crest were fully visible, "being in Azkaban, your father wouldn't have the family seal on his person. Unless Narcissa enjoys sending cryptic letters requesting to meet with her son late at night without any witnesses, this is from someone you gave the stamp to avoid raising suspicion."
Draco clenched his jaw and even he was unable to hide the regret in his eyes.
"I can't," he said quietly.
"You can't, or won't?" He merely shook his head.
"It doesn't matter." Just as he prepared to turn away, she reached for his hand to keep him in place.
"Don't shut me out. Not again. Whatever it is, we can face it together." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Please, let me help you."
Agony rippled across his face, the final visible barrier threatening to crumble down between them.
Before he could get another word out, the door burst open and their heads turned to find their headmistress standing before them. His hand jerked from hers.
"Professor McGonagall?" The elder witch's expression was grim when she stepped inside. Then, her eyes fell to the person behind her. "Harry?"
Wide brown eyes darted back and forth between her best friend and their headmistress. But she wasn't looking at her—neither of them were. Instead, they were looking at—
"Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall's tone was unwavering as she addressed the stiff wizard beside her before sparing her a sympathetic gaze. What was happening? "Mr. Potter has come to escort you from school grounds. Effective immediately, I'm afraid."
Hermione's jaw went slack, opening and closing at her loss for words.
She turned to face Draco before she could notice the evident discomfort in Harry's gaze. But Draco wouldn't meet her halfway. Instead, he fixed a cold, hard stare at the wizard opposing him. Wand at the ready and sporting an Auror badge clipped to his belt. After a great pause, Harry took a step forward and Hermione stood in his way, taking a defensive stance with a hand between them to maximize space.
"Wait, what's this about? Professor?"
Regretfully, McGonagall shook her head. "I'm sorry, Miss Granger. This is out of my hands," she informed, forehead creases worn with sympathy and regret. "You'll need to take it up with the Ministry regarding this matter." They all watched her leave, rendering the three of them alone.
"The Ministry?" she repeated.
Harry.
"Hermione," Harry demanded and she turned on him before the last syllable of her name left his mouth. "Please don't make this any more difficult—"
"Then tell me what's going on," she challenged, stepping in between the two wizards and taking a defensive pose.
"We don't have time and I need you to cooperate or leave us," his voice raised just a fraction. It was subtle, but effective nonetheless. In all the years they'd been friends, he rarely raised his voice at her. "Lest you'd like me to take you in as well for interfering."
His words caused her blood to chill. Using her momentary shock to his advantage, Harry walked around her, solely focused on Draco who hadn't moved from his spot.
"You didn't tell her," Harry stated matter-of-factly. A coldness washed over Draco's face.
"Neither did you," he jeered.
"I swore an oath—"
"I was trying to keep her out of this—"
"I thought you two were friends." Harry's anger came through as he sneered. "Though I suppose retaining pivotal information from those close to you isn't entirely out of character."
She winced at his harsh tone. Clearly, they both knew something she didn't and it infuriated her.
"Are you going to do your bloody job or not?" Draco shot back. Then, Harry broke away with an expression resembling regret when they glanced over to her.
"Hermione," Harry attempted.
"Don't. Either you tell me why you came barging in like this or so help me Harry, I will attach you to McGonagall's post!"
"Granger—"
Hermione whipped her head around, causing both men to tighten their lips.
"You'll get your turn in a moment. And you," Harry's eyes widened with shock when she turned back to face him, her lips curling into a sneer. "Explain. Now."
He exhaled harshly through pursed lips, his movements becoming anxious. Fully aware of the fact that he wouldn't make it far if he didn't start talking.
"There's been a warrant for his arrest."
"Yes, I've gathered as much. Under what charges?" she demanded.
Harry swallowed, glancing between them with uncertainty.
"The murder of a Hogwarts student."
Long seconds passed.
To be honest, she wanted to laugh. Surely he was kidding. She wanted to brush it off as a bold claim but this wasn't an accusation or paranoia. This was real. Harry was a part of the Ministry while she was still in school and annoyingly, that made her feel small.
"She was one of many Muggleborns declared missing the year we went into hiding. A Hufflepuff in Ginny's year," he explained. She could feel Draco stiffen next to her. "We found her body last week. Or, what remained of it anyways," he winced. "The magic coroners were able to determine the cause of death and Malfo—Lucius' wand checked out. He took on an additional charge for a crime he never committed. And we had reason to believe he," Harry emphasized, nodding to Draco, "is the reason why."
"That can't be right—" she trailed off, the harsh reality of his evasive behavior sinking in.
He was still running.
"No," she shook her head in denial. In despair. "He isn't, you didn't—" She turned to Draco, the desperate look she gave him was a silent plea.
Tell me he's wrong. Tell me you're being framed. Give me something. Anything.
The guilt in his eyes was ultimately the final press that shattered her heart.
Withholding a choked sob, she could feel her knees cave beneath her. If Harry hadn't taken the opportunity to cuff Draco, he might have reached for her. To try and hold her steady before she crumbled to the ground. Instead, she caught herself on the closest surface near her.
The workbench.
The surface which birthed their challenging assignment of a potion. The potion he personally selected for her. The potion brewed with her own blood because she refused to see him hurt again. All of it happened in this room. Where they were stripped of any barriers and safety nets, leaving nothing behind but themselves. Where years of resistance and denial were repressed, allowing them to let go of their past if only temporarily. Where they came together as two people who desired each other despite all odds. And now—
Ignoring the fact that he didn't take his eyes from her, he looked...tired. But still very much the person she'd fallen for.
And Harry—Harry knew. He didn't come to pry for a confession.
No, he was here to take him in. This meant the evidence was likely against him, but there was still one key piece missing; the explanation Draco owed her.
Harry stepped to her, lightly squeezing her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."
But all she could see was Draco. The words left unspoken between them. Before she could think of why Harry was really apologizing, she felt the tingle of his magic beginning to formulate. The beginnings of an apparition.
Then the shock and anguish from betrayal was quickly replaced by a fire. A fiery heat from being kept in the dark. Not just by Draco, but both Harry and Ron as well. And by extension, the Ministry.
The rage surged forward. The control began to slip. That tugging in her chest came back, causing her pull to him to grow and making something within her snap.
"Harry James Potter, don't you dare—" she growled, reaching for them before she could think twice.
With a pop, and a panicked scream, they were gone.