Before Hermione could exhale properly, invisible, yet strong arms encircled her abdomen, and she was being lifted up into the air and spun around.
"Draco!" she admonished, sounding shrill. She couldn't help herself. But Draco didn't stop or seem worried that someone might spot them in this strange and unexplainable position. He was still Disillusioned, after all. He continued to spin her around, now holding her so tightly that he was crushing her.
"Put me down!" she insisted, this time in a stern whisper. "Someone might see us!"
Draco did put her down, but he didn't let go of her. His arms still around her tightly, she fought to push him away. "Draco, come on," she whispered. "I need to see you."
At those words, Draco released her and she felt his hand reach for hers, wand and all, just as he had done before. Hermione glanced around the corridor and, seeing no one, nonverbally cast a Finite spell. A shimmer of magic filled the air before her as Draco materialized, his pale face flushed with excitement, a wide grin consuming his face.
He kept his voice quiet but the exhilaration was evident as he spoke, "Those wards were something else, Hermione, I was worried– Taking too long…"
"So you got it then?" Hermione interrupted, an impatient, hum of lingered anxiety leaking into her softly spoken question. "You have the poisoned one?"
Draco smirked, but his voice remained softer than usual. "Of course, I got it, Granger. Think I would have let you and your friends drink from your goblets had I not done it yet?" His tone was teasing.
He stepped forward as he reached into his pocket to pull out the little handbag Hermione knew was holding the bottle of mead. Hermione grabbed Draco's arm to stop him. "Not here. Let's get somewhere safer first," she implored.
"The Kitchens," Draco whispered. "It's closest." His breath was hot on her throat and the sensation sent butterflies fluttering inside her.
She felt his hand slip into hers and she was being pulled in the right direction.
Draco's pace quickened, and suddenly they were running through the twists and turns of the dungeon hallways. His hand never separated from hers as they ran, until the painting of fruit was right in front of him. He reached out to tickle the pear in the painting, the door handle appeared and, while pushing it open, Draco's hand was back to holding hers, pulling her through.
Here, he scooped her up again into his arms, crushing her with a hug so tight she feared her ribs would crack.
"We did it, Hermione! I can't believe we did it!" he was saying in a rush of breathless gushing. "You were brilliant, you were. Natural, smart, and careful without being obvious." He was rubbing his hands along her arms now as if to warm her up, then over her hair to smooth it out. After that, he was crushing her in another hug again. "Oh, how that old man adores you. You can see it in his eyes despite how drunk he was. He's intrigued by you, by your brain, he's curious." He pulled away then, his hands now resting on her shoulders and his eyes sparkling as they danced all over her face.
His eyes, softer, molten, warmer than she'd ever seen them, searched hers with a tenderness that made her insides bubble. It was like being seen and held all at once. Lost for words, before she could think of anything coherent to say in response, Draco's gaze had shifted lower. She could see it as if it was happening in slow motion. He'd been searching her eyes for an answer to his question, but when he blinked, his gaze had drifted to her nose, his pupils expanding as his gaze danced from freckle to freckle. But when he blinked again, he was no longer looking at her eyes, or her nose.
He'd settled on her lips.
She stopped breathing. The way his black pupils consumed the grey of his iris so completely… it wasn't just want—it wasneed. A need so unspoken and furious it made her feel like she was standing at the edge of something vast and irreversible. She should have known what was coming next.
Draco's lips crashed to hers with the hunger of a dragon. It was desperate and claiming and breathtaking, the kind of kiss that made time falter.
The warm and comforting sensation she associated with him spread to her cheeks and down to her toes. It felt like fire and safety. Like something forbidden, and something she'd been waiting for forever. His euphoria was contagious, and Godric, it felt good to feel his lips again.
Her hands were reaching up to find his hair, his jaw, his neck, justsomething, needing to anchor herself to him, but the moment was ruined when a loud clatter of pots startled them apart. House Elves, hard at work, of course, though they didn't seem to pay any mind to the adrenaline-high teenagers who had just invaded their space.
Hermione took a step back, creating space between them by turning to look for chairs. She needed a moment to process everything, surely snogging in the kitchens wasn't the right thing to be doing right now. Unsanitary, for one, and they weren't really together, were they?
"Can I see it now?" She asked, disrupting the static that seemed to crackle in the air around them. "The bottle, I mean?"
Draco stepped toward her again and dug through his pocket. There was the little handbag she'd charmed, and from its tiny pouch, Draco pulled out the tall, slender glass bottle from its magical hiding place. Hermione took the bottle in her hands and turned it over, scouring it for any imperfections, as if that mattered.
"And you got through those wards?" she asked unnecessarily. "When I saw them, I instantly began to worry… I can't believe I was daft enough to think it would be simple! But you managed, and you put them back in place when you were finished?"
His face wore a devilish smirk as he responded, "You wound me, Granger. Of course, I put them back! Give me some credit, woman."
He took the beaded bag from her with a mock-annoyed aggression, fingers meting hers in the process. His touch lingered. Their eyes locked. Draco's smirk melted into something softer. Her gaze, her intensity, the smouldering fire in her eyes… It drew him in more than he'd care to admit. A quiet moment stretched between them, the weight of what they'd just done settling in the air.
"We did it," she whispered, as if saying it too loudly might shatter the fragile, beautiful thing between them.
Draco didn't answer. He just watched her, like she was something precious. Something he shouldn't touch, but already had.
Hermione released the bottle, leaving it heavy in Draco's hands. "You were incredible in there, you know." she said after a moment. "The wards… they were complicated, layered again, weren't they? It's impressive you managed them, really, in such a short amount of time."
Draco's expression flickered and he straightened slightly. He busied himself tucking away the poisoned bottle for a moment, unsure what to say. Her words struck him somewhere deeper than he'd ever felt before. The adrenaline was beginning to fade, but Hermione remained, filling every space. The hope he'd been trying to bury rose obnoxiously to the surface and was beginning to overwhelm him.
Neither of them spoke, standing close together in the silent, heavy moment. Ultimately Draco cleared his throat and said quietly, "Maybe this can work"
Hermione looked at him, confused. "What can work?"
Draco met her eyes then, gaining strength from her spirit. "This. Getting out of it. Escaping him. Voldemort. All of it. Being with you…. If we can dothis…maybe I can survive."
All of Hermione's lingering adrenaline and anxiety melted away at that moment. Her chest tightened at the vulnerability in his voice. She softened and, stepping closer to him without thinking, reached her hand outward, resting it lightly on his arm.
She spoke softly, but firmly, sincerely. "Youwillsurvive, Draco. We'll find a way."
Her touch burned through him, and before he could stop himself, he covered her hand with his own. The tension between them shifted, growing heavier, more charged. Draco's eyes searched hers, his usual mask slipping away entirely.
Draco spoke, his voice low, almost a whisper, as if any louder of volume would shatter the delicate bubble around them. "You're the only reason I'm still trying, you know that?"
Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounded as the distance between them closed. She wasn't sure who made the step closer, it could have been either one of them. Her other hand moved instinctively, finding home in the center of his chest, and she could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingers.
It mirrored her own.
"Draco…" she breathed softly, voice trembling.
For a moment, it felt as though the world had narrowed to just the two of them. The danger, the fear, the uncertainty—all of it faded in the wake of the connection between them. Gone was the crackling of the fire in the corner, and the rattling of silverware as house elves kept on with their work.
"I mean it, Hermione." Draco said. "I couldn't have done this without you. Any of it."
Herminoe shook her head, curls bouncing slightly with the movement. Draco lifted a hand hesitantly, his fingertips brushing a strand of hair from her face. The tenderness in the gesture made her stomach flip.
"You're stronger than you think, Draco. You just need to believe it." Her eyes searched his, and for a moment, the weight of their shared fear and hope drew them closer.
His voice was barely audible. "You mean more to me than you'll ever know."
Hermione's resolve wavered as the warmth of his words seeped into her.
Before she could respond, Draco closed the distance between them. His lips captured hers in a kiss that was as desperate as it was tender, the weight of everything unsaid pouring into the moment. Hermione's hand slid up to his neck, and for a few precious moments, they let the world fade away.
His hands cupped her face, pulling her closer, and closer, and impossibly closer. Something in her shivered. Her hands moved from his hair. One found his shoulder to steady her now shaky legs. The other reached around to his neck and she discovered he was warm to the touch like she felt.
When his hands finally left her face, they were quickly felt on her hips, then around her waist. She almost gasped when they slid across her bum in tandem, reaching to her thighs and lifting her up.
He carried her a few short feet and deposited her, she could feel, on a wooden table that wobbled slightly beneath her. Draco was standing there, leaning over her, kissing her deeply, passionately, joyfully. She matched his fervour, peace washing over her in waves as she allowed the moment to sink in.
They'd stolen the mead.
They'd fixed his mistake.
They'd prevented innocent death.
They'd defied Voldemort.
Her breath hitched a moment, stilling their kiss. Draco's lips, undeterred, skipped their way down her jaw and up her neck until he was kissing just behind her ear. Hermione's head tilted to the side, giving more space for Draco to explore. His breath made her skin tingle and burn.
They'd defied Voldemort, she thought again, and this time she couldn't shake it. She smiled, and she felt Draco smile against her shoulder, too. His breath ghosted against her skin in warm puffs. He was breathing heavily as he pulled away from her.
"I'm going to be free fromHim, Hermione," he professed. He brought his hands up to pull over his face. "I can feel it. With you… With you by my side, I know it. I can escape Him, maybe ruin some of His efforts in the process. Even if Dumbledore refuses to help me. Sod him. Sod them all! We don't need him. Can you believe we just did that? And got away with it?"
Hermione's chest was still heaving in the wake of Draco's ministrations. He was smiling at her expectantly, but even in her love-drunk haze, she'd stuck on his words.
Even if Dumbledore refuses to help me.
For 5 years, Hermione Granger had gone along with the unanimously accepted notion that Dumbledore is like God and Hogwarts is the safest place on earth. But at this moment, facing the once broken and discarded Draco Malfoy as he raised himself from the ashes, a scarlet phoenix of hope, Hermione let the glass shatter on the picture of a Headmaster and the world that could have been.
Hadn't it always been up to her to save the world?
She'd gotten Harry through the trap door. She found the monster in the Chamber of Secrets. She saved Sirius Black, and Buckbeak, and found the true identity of the man who betrayed Harry's parents all those years ago. She led Harry through each task of that bloody tournament fourth year, and where had Dumbledore been then? All those times? Playing puppet master, withholding vital information, and taking credit where none was due.
And here she was again, face to face with another boy she cared about more than words could say. And again, she found herself resenting that Dumbledore had left them all to save them-fucking-selves.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Draco was pulling out a flask, taking a long drink that turned his skin rosy. The color of his cheeks made him look more boyish, more healthy, than she'd seen in ages. She couldn't deny that she liked the effect.
"Here, have some." Draco smiled and held the flask out for her to take. "Enjoy it properly this time," he instructed. "Both of your Gryffindor Boys will be absolutely fine. It's not poisoned. We have the tainted bottle here to dispose of," he patted the inside pocket of his cloak. "We can do that tonight, after curfew," he assured her, gesturing again with the offered flask. "But this is a rarity, the finest elf-made-mead you can get this side of Scotland."
Hermione's eyes rolled at his easy statement of wealth, but Draco was in too good a mood to take the bait. "I want to celebrate with you," he said now, in a more serious tone of voice. He placed the flask down on the table beside her and stepped in the space between her legs.
She gave little to no protest.
Draco's forehead rested upon hers and Hermione's eyes closed on their own as she breathed in that familiar scent that was only his.
"Celebrate?" she murmured.
"Of course." Draco's eyes were closed, too.
His hands met her knees at a tasteful, respectful location, but still, she placed her hands on top of his to make sure they didn't move.
"What does this mean?" her voice was a whisper.
"What do you want it to mean?" was his reply.
"I– I don't know."
When had the oxygen left the room? And where had it gone? Why wasn't anyone breathing?
Draco's face tilted up, until his lips met her forehead in the tenderest of touches. She wasn't even sure it could be called a kiss. He'd been careful, barely even touched the place where his own forehead had just rested, but she felt the pull in her heart all the same.
Draco's cheek now rested at the crown of her hair, and her hands grew hot where they laid atop his on her lower thigh. Had they moved an inch from where'd they been a minute ago?
Her voice was even quieter now, barely there, but she hadn't decided that, it justwasand somehow still, she knew he'd hear every word.
"I thought we weren't going to do this, Draco. Until it was over."
He sighed, but neither of them moved an inch. "I know. We shouldn't."
"Then what are we doing? What is this?" She couldn't help the hurt that escaped in her whispered voice.
"I– I couldn't help myself," he breathed against her temple. "I'm sorry, you're right, until I'm free, we–"
He started to pull away, release her, but she stopped him with more strength than she realized she possessed. Her hands on his, on the warmth of her upper thighs, her ankles wrapped around the backs of his legs refusing to let him leave.
In contrast to her show of physical strength, her voice was quiet, breathy, and flooding with every drop of unshed emotion she'd kept inside for far too long.
"Remind me, Draco, please, why we're not together."
A rush of warm air against her ear was evidence of the laugh that escaped his lips. His hands were a bit sweaty, she realised, when he'd slipped his hands out from underneath her's and taken over trapping her hands beneath his. Draco's forehead connected with hers once again. Their eyes connected, too.
"Because I'm dark where you're golden."
"Oh, please," she sighed.
"I'm broken, and you're pure."
"But you're not broken," she insisted.
"I'm Marked and you're beautiful."
"You're not even making sense now," she breathed.
"I'm bad for you, and you're too good for me."
A laugh escaped her lips. "We balance each other out, then."
She smirked, and he had to close his eyes to stop himself from kissing her again. Draco's tone grew evermore serious with the words he whispered next.
"Because I'm dangerous, Hermione, and you're safer without me."
The words hung in the air, suspended by all the things he didn't say.
Hermione's heart gave a weak, confused stutter.
She didn't need Occlumency to know what he was thinking. His beautiful dark grey eyes revealed everything.
Draco thought she would walk away. That sheshouldleave and never come back. He thought he had to let her go, that he would be capable of it. But… he couldn't. That was the whole problem. He'd always been just a little too honest with her, too raw. And when he wasn't—when he lied or deflected or pushed her away—it was only ever because he thought it might protect her.
Or protect himself.
And yet, here he was. Not hiding. Not running. Saying what he meant, consequences be damned.
She blinked rapidly, chest rising and falling. And then, almost involuntarily, she surged forward and kissed him.
Not with fury. Not with softness either. But with aching urgency, like she didn't know whether this would be the last time. Like she needed him to feel the answer in her mouth because she didn't have the words for it yet.
He felt the way her kiss was like a promise, and even when she pulled away and the kiss ended, its echo lingered in his chest, pulsing like a second heartbeat. The feeling beneath his ribs left him shaken, like she'd touched the very parts of him he worked hardest to bury.
He didn't want to move. The kiss had cracked something open in him, and he was afraid to look too closely at what was spilling out. But the very warmth she gave him felt dangerous– like it could be ripped away the moment he let himself want it too much.
So he did what he always did when things got too close—he tried to retreat. Tried to close the door before hope could slip through.
But Hermione only held on tighter.
He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, a dull flicker of embers in the fire behind her eyes.
Her voice had grown serious, too.
"I'll survive," she said. "Somehow, I always do."
Draco let out a frustrated breath and again, tried to pull away, but again, Hermione pulled him in closer, cupped his cheeks in her hands.
Draco sighed. "This isn't one of Harry-Fucking-Potter's plans gone wrong, Hermione. No amount of luck can help us here. Voldemort could summon me at any moment. He'll break through my memories in an instant."
"You'll learn Occlumency from Professor Snape in no time. Then, you can teach me."
Draco studied her and softened. He wanted her to want him, didn't he? Why was he trying to push her away? Why did choosing her now terrify him so much?
She was so patient. So understanding. So supportive.
"I'll never be good enough for you," he said sadly. "I've been so awful, to you, to everyone, for so long." His shoulders hung in shame. She gave his hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
"You're not that same guy, Draco, and you know it. Think about what you've just done. You've put yourself at great personal risk to defy Voldemort's orders in hopes of protecting innocent people. Do you remember how you poured into here just ten minutes ago, bursting with light? Where has that gone?" A frown crossed her face. "I've ruined the moment, haven't I?"
Draco thought a moment, confused as to how he'd gone from so high to so low in the span of a few minutes. But it wasn't her, was it? It was just honesty. Reality wriggling itself between them like it always did.
He sputtered, "You couldn't have ruined anything, Hermione. You're scared, and you should be. This mead's just one thing gone right. It doesn't make up for all those years I've behaved… shamefully."
Hermione pushed herself off the edge of the table to stand. Draco didn't put up much of a fight as she motioned for him to sit down in her place. She stepped between his legs, but it was different from the way he had done. It wasn't impassioned, or needy, or because she was riding a high of emotion.
The weight of her palms on each of his shoulders was comforting, as was her scent that surrounded him.
"Draco, look at me," she demanded. He obliged. It wasn't difficult. He'd never tire of looking at her. The growing flames in her eyes made him feel warm again.
"You can't go back in time and change how you've been. None of us can." He looked down, but she brought a finger beneath his chin and forced him to meet her eyes again. "But keep doing one right, one good thing after another, and you will find redemption."
Draco's breath had been stolen somehow. His lungs felt icy, but his heart was burning at the same time.
"I want that for you," Hermione continued. "Youdeservethat. You might not think that you do, Draco, butIdo. And I promise, I'll do whatever I can to help until you feel it. Until you feel good. Until you see yourself the way I see you."
The tension that had built in his shoulders melted with each word. He was a puddle, and maybe those were tears that threatened to spill from behind his dark grey eyes, but maybe not.
"You deserve so much better than me," Draco said after a long moment.
And Hermione Granger kissed him on the lips again. Slow. Deep. Real. She pulled away for the briefest instant.
"I deserve to have what I want."
"You do," he agreed.
"So do you, do you."
A/N: Happy Saturday! Sorry for taking so long between updates this go-around. I've spent the last four weeks removing LAYERS of wallpaper from every room in my house. Layers of wallpaper that have EACH been PAINTED OVER. Wallpaper. Paint. Wallpaper. Paint. Wallpaper. Wallpaper. PAINT. Can you tell that I'm going mental? We're restoring our historic home and it will be lovely this time next year, but I'm eager to be done with this part for sure.
Questions: Have you ever removed wallpaper? JK- What was your favorite line from this emotional chapter? Mine is: "I deserve to have what I want."
Big thanks to a new friend who generously donated their time to Alpha Read for me, Helly226. I appreciate all of the support!
Follow me on Tumblr OxfordElise if you wish.
Many thanks to anyone who still takes the time to read my story, OxfordElise
