Draco/Hermione fic: A Reason chapters 7&8
A Reason update
Chapters 7&8
Title: The Winter Here Is Cold
Author: Hafthand (Ally)
Disclaimer: Property of J.K. Rowling
Summary: How did Draco end up bloody and unconscious in Hermione’s flat?
A/N: Well another update, another chapter! Thank you all for your great reviews. This next chapter is a tricky one, so I hope you like.!!
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He had been walking for a while in the rain now, the constant wet pounding nothing more then a slight disturbance. The dirty, long road that lay before him nothing more then a path he was barley aware of. His mind was a million miles away fighting a battle he was both winning and losing. When he had left the pub, he had made up his mind about where to go. The only thing left now was to just get it over with.
Part of him decided to blame the consumption of way too much alcohol. ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘the alcohol.’ He was slightly drunk and the thought that he was a wizard and could easily have apparated to his destination was sliding in and out of his mind. If he could convince himself that he didn’t have the ability to pop in and out of a place then maybe he could just walk this road a little longer. Maybe he could come up with an alternative to the plan he had laid out.
Shaking his hood covered head, he sighed and focused again on the country road before him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was walking the right way! “Just a little longer,” he whispered to the cold night. He needed just a little longer to work some of that alcohol out of his system. He just couldn’t show up drunk. Imagine the impression that would make. So he allowed his feet to carry him further into the black country around him as he let his mind carry him backwards. Tonight seemed like a night of remembering. Whether Draco Malfoy wanted to or not, something in the air this night kept forcing his mind back.
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He sat staring at her, completely unaware of anything around him. He watched the light play off her frizzy, yet shiny hair. He saw her bite down on the tip of the pencil in her hand, her forehead creased slightly in concentration. What he wouldn’t give to be able to know her thoughts at this exact moment. It seemed to him that it had been a long time since he had talked to her, and parts of him that weren’t supposed to exist were craving contact.
He managed to rip his eyes from her slender form and focus once more on the book in front of him. He continued to read about some potion he already knew how to make when he felt someone’s eyes upon him. Unconsciously holding his breath he turned ever so slightly towards her and let out his breath again in disappointment when he saw it wasn’t her. He let his eyes flow over the room, almost as a hunter searching for his prey does. Suddenly his eyes locked onto someone else’s. Malfoy froze.
He watched as Snape stared at him quizzically before turning to stare at Granger, then back to him. Had Snape caught him staring at her? Malfoy’s mind raced for a million possible excuses if Snape questioned him. He knew Snape was a Deatheater and the last thing he needed was for his father to find out things Malfoy had gone through great pains to hide.
“Mr. Malfoy, see me after class,” Snape barked out harshly. Malfoy nodded before lowering his head to his desk. He could feel the eyes of the entire class on him now. He looked up and instantly met her gaze. She had forgotten whatever lay in front of her and kept staring at him. He could see the mixture of emotions running through her eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Snape still staring at him along with some of his fellow classmates. He told himself to drop his eyes, to look away from her fiery gaze, but he couldn’t back down. She wasn’t looking away, and so neither was he. He would not surrender to her in this, no matter how sweet it would be.
He saw her notice Snape’s attentions and thought that she would finally look away, but once again Hermione Granger surprised him. Instead of looking away she did something completely unexpected. She closed her book, placed it carefully in her bag, which she threw over her shoulder, and then stood up.
“Yes, Miss Granger? Can I help you with something?” Snape asked viciously. But she ignored him and started walking towards Malfoy. Malfoy could hear Snape’s annoying voice in the distance somewhere but he was too caught up in watching her walk towards him, a look in her eyes that he had only seen once before.
By now the entire class watched as the Head Girl, Miss Perfect, ignored Snape’s threats of detention (or worse) and walked confidently towards the Head Boy. Her eyes were ice, and her body steel. His eyes were on fire, and his body tense in a way only a predator could have. She stopped in front of his table and paused to take him in with one long look. There was nothing sexual behind it, as much as Malfoy would have loved there to be. No, no, this girl was sizing him up as only a hunter does with its prey.
“Malfoy,” she said coldly.
“Granger,” he said softly. He eyebrows rose, as they did every time he used her name and not mudblood. You would think that after almost two years of the absence of the word she would be used to it by now. God, had it been almost two years already since he had fled from her eyes? Had it really been almost two years since things had changed between them?
“Follow me,” she said before turning and walking past Snape and out the door. Draco didn’t hesitate. He picked up his bag, grabbed his book and strolled past a gaping Snape and out of the room. He saw her slight figure ahead of him walking towards the stairs. He followed silently, though he did grimace slightly when he heard Snape screaming the word detention at him from down the hall.
He didn’t allow himself to wonder where she was leading him, or what she could possibly have to say to him. He didn’t allow his mind to think or concentrate on anything other then following her.
After about five minutes he figured she was leading him to the library. As they approached the entrance she paused and looked back at him for the first time since they had left the dungeons. Confirming that he had indeed followed her, she slid into the deserted library and walked through the stacks. She finally stopped in a dark, musty-smelling corner well out of eyesight.
“Well Granger,” he said, finally breaking the silence, “if you wanted to have your wicked way with me, couldn’t you have picked a more comfortable locale?” He leaned casually against the stacks and crossed his arms in front of him. He towered over, he noticed, by a good six or seven inches. She was leaning against the stacks behind her, conveniently cornered in but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were hard and distant.
“Why?” she asked softly. Her whisper startled Malfoy momentarily. He had expected her to shout at him with anger. Her voice clashed with her eyes and he was once again shaken to the core by this strange being. She was so very tiny, so fragile on the outside. But on the inside, she was death, ice, edges, heart, and strength. He suddenly pitied anyone who would ever choose to make her their enemy. They would regret it.
“Why what?” he asked, finally processing what she had asked.
“Before, what you said when we came in here, and in class. You were staring at me Malfoy. I read your eyes. There was no hate. You used my name, not mudblood, and though you made a crude, immature joke when we arrived here, there was no malice in it. There never is anymore. Why?” she asked, her eyes finally losing some of their fierceness. Her voice sounded tired. Hell, she looked tired. She put on such a convincing act around the others, but now, here with him, he could see the toll the past few years was taking on her mind and body.
Without thinking, his hand reached up and he gently held a piece of her hair in between his fingers. To her credit, she didn’t flinch. Even when he stepped closer to her, effectively pushing her body against the books behind her, she didn’t move. She stood waiting. He gently rubbed the hair between his fingers, and felt the warmness of her breath against his chin as he looked down at her. Had anyone come across them they would have thought they had stumbled upon two lovers enjoying a moment away from prying eyes. But that was not the case here.
Though he wanted nothing more then to just run away and slam his lips down onto her soft ones at the same time, he controlled both ends of his body and looked into her eyes. “Do you want that Granger? Do you want me to walk around here calling you my little mudblood, belittling you every chance I get? Do you really want me and my friends” he practically spit out the word, “to drag you through this school like the filth they believe you to be? Or should we throw you in a bag and haul your mudblood ass off to Voldermort and let him deal with you?” His eyes had never left hers and he noticed that she had not flinched once during his little speech. He would have smiled at her bravado had he been capable.
“Yes,” she suddenly whispered. He was taken aback. He let his hand drop from her hair and stumbled back a step, out of her personal space. He looked at her, his face betraying his confusion. He watched her for a moment before she slowly smiled a sad smile. “Yes Malfoy, I wish you would,” she said, a single tear falling slowly down her cheek.
He regained his balance and composure and walked towards her. He put his hands on the stacks behind her on either side of face. He pushed his body into hers trying desperately to control his teenage hormones. He felt her body against his and realized she had not tensed in fear. Her eyes were sad and lonely, but there was no fear. Her breath came out in short, quiet bursts against his chin. He lowered his face towards hers until his nose was touching hers. She didn’t once back down, the lone tear rolling softly down her face.
“And why in God’s name would you want that Hermione?” he whispered sadly, his lips brushing against her face so very slightly as he spoke. His eyes steel and fire. He saw her eyes widen slightly at his use of her first name, but she was quick to rein it in. She shifted her body slightly, causing him to swallow hard. Now would not be the time to let his fantasy’s get the better of him.
“It simple that way,” she said, her lips tickling his face slightly. She could see the question in his eyes and breathed in deeply, her chest pushing against his as she inhaled. It took all of Malfoy’s willpower to not take her right then and there.
“Simple?” he asked.
“Simple,” she replied. “When you hate me, the world makes sense. When you abuse me with your looks and your words, good and evil are clearly defined. When you look at me and all you see is mudblood, I know where I stand. But when you look at me with anything but hate in those eyes of yours Malfoy, that is when everything goes to hell,” she explained quietly, her lips so dangerously close to his.
He was beginning to understand her. He thought back to that day so long ago when he had held a dagger to her throat. He shuddered slightly at the memory and pushed his body harder into hers to steady himself. He moved his head forward slightly till his mouth brushed her ear. “You would like that wouldn’t you Granger? For things to be black and white, good and evil, wrong and right. It would make your world easier to live in wouldn’t it? Well let me tell you something princess, this world is a fucked up place and nothing will ever go the way you want it to,” he said harshly. He paused, his mind spinning at her closeness, at the slight scent of her perfume. Without thinking he leaned his head against hers. His cheek softly resting against hers; his lips still at her ear. He could feel the wet trail her tear had left against her cheek.
“Life is hard Hermione, so get used to it. You chose the crowd you hang out with; you knew what would be expected of you so don’t you dare sit there in self-loathing and pity. This was your choice, your choice to fight. Your choice to live this life, just like it was your choice to die not so long ago.” She gasped at his words.
“What gave you the right to give up huh? Life got a bit hard so you decided to take the coward’s way out?” he whispered harshly in her ear. Her body was unbelievably warm underneath his. He had no control over himself anymore. Words were tumbling out of him without his permission. Her proximity and her questions were slowing driving him mad.
“Wouldn’t that make you happy Malfoy? Wouldn’t that make your life easier? The mudblood gone. Wouldn’t that have made daddy proud?” she asked bitterly. Malfoy’s body stiffened slightly at the mention of his father and he was suddenly overcome with a horrible sense of fear. He pulled his face back slightly till he was looking her in the eye again.
“Granger don’t you ever talk about him. He would kill you in a second if he knew,” he whispered, letting a finger slowly caress the side of her face.
“Knew what?” she asked confused. Malfoy, realizing what he had just said pushed himself away from her gasping for air. She didn’t move, just watched him curiously.
“Damnit Granger!” Malfoy said running his hands roughly through his blonde hair. “Why now, huh? Why now? It’s been two years since I pinned you to that wall. Why are you suddenly so interested in why I didn’t finish the job, why I don’t call you names anymore, why I respect you?”
“It was time to ask,” she said simply, as though clearing up all the questions in his head. “You aren’t what you are supposed to be any more Malfoy. You haven’t been since you tried to kill me; since I almost let you.”
“Yeah, well you haven’t been the same either,” Draco said. He reached down and picked up his bag. Throwing it over his shoulder he turned away from her. Over his shoulder he said, “Listen, what I do, and how I choose to act is my business. Don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, you’ll just get hurt. And I think you have been hurt enough over the past years Granger. I think you have had just about all you can handle.” He started to walk away and heard her slide down to the floor. When he was clear of the library he once again fled from Hermione Granger. Ignoring the students in the now crowded hallways, Draco Malfoy ran for his life.
What had possessed him to touch her like he had, he never knew. He could still feel the heat of her against him and felt that anyone who looked at him would suspect something. He came to a halt as he suddenly remembered his bizarre exit from potions. If his father got wind of it there would be hell to pay. He had received enough beatings over the past years after his continual failure to dispose of Miss Granger. What would his father say if he knew he had just been having, what for Draco, was a civilized conversation with a mudblood. And not just any mudblood, oh no, the Dark Lord’s own personal favourite mudblood.
Draco wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure Voldermort’s interest in Granger was not solely observational. Shaking his head slightly, Draco shook off the worry that had been creeping up on him since the summer. As long as Granger was here at Hogwart’s she would be safe.
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Jerking back to the present, Draco laughed bitterly to himself at how foolish and naive he had been. That had been just a few weeks before the Christmas Holidays. A few weeks before his life had changed forever. A few weeks before he had killed his father.
Pushing down his memories quickly, he steadied himself and looked around the wet cold country. Well he had better get this over and done with. He took out his wand and held it at the ready. He knew Granger well enough to know that she wouldn’t hesitate to send a spell the way of a man apparating into her flat without her permission. So just in case, he wanted to be prepared. No sense dying before he got to explain a few things.
Taking a deep breath he apparated. His eyes had half a moment to adjust to the darkness in her flat when he sensed the other person in the room and instinctually flung his body sideways. The spell just grazed him but caught him enough to throw him against the far wall with a force that surprised him. As he fell to the floor he heard the distant popping sound of someone disapparting.
The person must have been waiting for Hermione to arrive, hoping to catch her unawares. ‘Oh, God!’ thought Malfoy, blood rushing out of his mouth. They must have thought they had succeeded in their mission. If he hadn’t of ducked at that precise moment he probably would be dead right now. He knew now what spell had been thrown at him. Not many people would know that spell. But that must mean someone had been sent here to kill her. ‘Fuck,’ he thought. He suddenly had a moment of perfect clarity where everything made sense. As he passed out in a pool of his own blood, he had one thought. ‘I have to warn Hermione.’
Love, Ally
“The winter here is cold and bitter, it chilled us to the bone, we haven’t seen the sun for weeks, too long too far from home. I feel just like I am sinking, and I claw for solid ground, I am pulled down by the undertow, I never thought I would feel so low, and oh darkness I feel like letting go.” -Full of Grace, Sarah McLaughlin (yeah I know I spelt it wrong)
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Chapter 8: Don’t Let The Fire Rush To Your Head
Author: Hafthand (Ally)
Summary: Draco wakes up.
A/N: This chapter came easier then I thought, and I am pretty happy with it. I hope you all like it. And here I thought that the first chapter was only going to be a one-off! You people and your reviews!! Ah, they make me write! Evil you all are! Lol. Seriously, you reviewers are excellent, especially my loyal ones, as I like to call you. I can always count on an honest review from yous! I love you all! On with the story!
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She stared around her allowing her eyes to leave Draco’s beaten body. There was glass everywhere from where it looked as though he had been thrown into a framed picture of the Hogwart’s grounds that had been hanging on her wall. Her furniture was slightly moved and it looked as though someone had been going through her drawers. She looked down quizzically at Malfoy. Had he been going through her stuff? Perhaps, but that didn’t explain why he was in such terrible shape. Had he stumbled across someone going through her flat? If so, why had he come to her flat in the first place?
“Ahh, once again too many damned questions and not enough answers,” she growled out. Bringing her attention back to Malfoy, she magically lit the lamps around her and gasped at the actual sight of him. She kneeled down and tentatively put her fingers against his bloody throat searching for a pulse. She found one, much to her relief, and sighed. What to do?
Gathering the wrapped dagger that Fred had just given her, she stood up and walked to the kitchen, carefully placing it in a drawer. Gathering some cloth and filling a bowl of warm water, she then returned to Malfoy’s side. She took a moment to stare at him. Underneath the blood he looked different then he had only a week ago. His face looked tired and worn. What had happened to him this past week, she wondered. Hell what had happened to him these past two years? She considered letting someone know that a very beat up Draco Malfoy was currently lying on her living room floor but thought better of it. She wanted some answers from this man, and when he woke up, answers she would get.
Taking a deep breath and pointing her wand at him, she muttered, “Wingardeom Leviosa.” Draco’s body magically lifted in the air, blood dripping from his body to the floor. “Shit,” she said, he was a bit more hurt then she had originally thought. She floated his body gently towards her room with the only bed in the house. The blood would stain her sheets, but she had never liked them anyway. Gently she lowered him to her bed and set the bowl of water on her nightstand.
She glanced down at his broken body and for a moment smiled slightly to herself. She had always secretly wondered what lay underneath Draco Malfoy’s robes. The closest she had ever been to him had been that day in the library. She had finally had enough and the time had come for her to confront him. She had never expected him to act the way he had. She had been pushed into every inch of his hard body and being a seventeen-year-old girl, she couldn’t help but wonder what lay beneath the garments.
“Well Hermione,” she sighed to herself. “Looks like you finally get your chance to find out.” She considered removing his clothes with magic, but she didn’t know how his wounds would be affected. She had no idea how deep they were and didn’t want to risk him losing more blood. She leaned over him and worked the buttons of his already torn shirt. She slowly peeled back the already blood soaked garment and gasped. On his right side was a gaping hole about six inches long. Whatever had hit him had certainly damaged him.
Finally realizing the danger he was actually in, Hermione made quick work with the rest of his clothes. She smiled slightly at the sight of his silk green boxers, but quickly brought her attention back to his wound. She made quick work of cleaning the blood from it, not wanting to aggravate it more. She washed his face of its dirt and put the bloody cloth back into the bowl of water. Grabbing her wand she pointed at him and muttered a few quick healing spells. His wounds closed and his bruises faded, but she was in no doubt that he would be in pain when he woke up, whenever that would be.
Gathering his wet and dirty clothes she went to the kitchen to throw them in the washing machine. Grabbing a blanket from the coach in the living room she muttered another quick spell to clean of the mess that Draco had left behind him. When he woke up, she wanted to know exactly what had happened. Turning off the lights she went back to her room. She saw the shallow rise and fall of his chest, and noticed how pale his face was. She hoped she had done enough for him, she wasn’t a doctor but she was confident in her abilities.
She grabbed the soft, sturdy chair from the corner of her room and brought it to the side of her bed. When he woke up she wanted to be there. She wasn’t going to give him an opportunity to escape. She had finally caught him and she was going to make sure she didn’t let him go until she was done with him. Try as she might to fight off sleep, the night finally took its toll on her and she passed into a deep and dreamless sleep.
She woke up to see a pair of grey eyes staring at her with intensity. For a moment she wondered what could make someone’s eyes so sad and then the previous night’s events came crashing down. She hurriedly sat up throwing her blanket to the floor. “Malfoy!” she practically shrieked.
A smile that didn’t reach his eyes crept to his lips. “Granger!” he mimicked.
She paused for a moment and then let it all out. “What the hell are you doing here? What the fuck happened to you last night? Where have you been for the past two years? I saw you on the train the other day you know that? We all thought you were dead. What the hell is going on!” she screamed. Taking deep breaths to regain her composure, Malfoy just sat watching her.
“Feel better?” he asked he quietly, still lying back on her bed.
“Believe it or not, yes,” she answered. Suddenly she laughed and sat on the edge of the bed next to him. “God that felt good getting that out. Somehow I always pictured that seeing you again would be some big dramatic thing. But now that you’re here and I have just asked you like a million questions it feels kind of silly you know,” she said shyly. “What happened to you?” she asked, absentmindedly reaching forward to touch his chest where a six-inch scar tenderly sat.
He gasped at her touch, though not from pain. He slowly sat up, the blanket pooling around his waist, and ignored the pain in his body as he leaned back against the headboard. “I apparated into your flat last night, only I wasn’t the only one here. Someone attacked me, threw a pretty dark curse at me, but luckily I moved in time. It just grazed me.”
Her mouth dropped open slightly, “Just grazed you? Hell, Malfoy I would hate to see what it would have done to you full on. You gave me quite a shock last night. You were pretty beat up.” She took in his appearance and realized he wasn’t as pale as the night before. She suddenly had the urge to brush his hair away from his eyes but quickly pushed the silly thought away.
He sat there in the silence, his breath harsh and quick from the pain his body was in. He saw her staring at him, her eyes clouded and dark. She was staring at him and remembering everything; all the pain he had caused her, all the questions left unanswered. He knew he had things to tell her, but now that he was this close to her, he decided that the answers could wait, just a little longer.
“Why are you here?” she asked him softly.
“Do I need a reason?” he asked, a spark of the old Malfoy suddenly flaring in his eyes.
“You never did before,” she said quietly.
“Simple. It was time,” he said.
“Harry and Ron think you are a danger to me,” she said somewhat shyly.
“I have heard their accusations a million times Hermione. You have taken lots of chances before, you are taking one now, keeping me here. You have no idea who I am and what I have done, yet you know me better then anyone else. You know I would never hurt you,” he said, putting a finger under her chin and lifting it up so she was forced to look at him.
“I have barely had more than a few real conversations with you Malfoy, how can you say I know you better then anyone else?” she asked, his finger under her chin burning her skin in a surprising way. His hair had fallen into his stormy eyes, and as he gazed at her with them, she felt her breathing quicken. He let his finger trail down from her chin to her neck where he gently placed the rest of his hand. He could feel the rapid beating of her pulse and he allowed himself a small smile. It had been so long since he had been able to look at her, just really look at her. Her beauty had not diminished, but had increased giving her a subtle charm. Her hair was still wild, but a bit more tamed. He resisted the urge to find out if it was as soft as it looked.
Hermione found herself blushing hotly under his scrutiny. She didn’t know why he had this effect on her. When she was younger, she had put it down to physical attraction. She had never dreamed of Malfoy but she wasn’t blind. He was then and still was a very attractive man. What she couldn’t explain was the shiver that ran through her the few times he had touched her. Harry was very attractive, but she did not blush when he touched her, she did not feel as though the temperature in the room had been raised by ten degrees when she was near him, she did not feel her breathing quicken under his gaze. No, Draco Malfoy always affected her differently. She had always been too afraid to dwell on why that could be, but now, under his gaze, his fingers on her body, his naked chest a few inches from her, she couldn’t ignore her body’s response to him.
“We are so very different from each other,” Draco said, interrupting her thoughts. His voice was a deep whisper. “So different, yet I don’t think I have ever met any one so like me. We have always been matched with each other. You were my opposite in everything. I a pureblood, you a mudblood. I had no family life to speak of, you have loving parents. You have true and loyal friends; I have only ever been surrounded by those after an association with my family name. I was destined for the dark, and you for the light. We were both made Heads of our year more for our differences, then our similarities. But it was those differences that made me realize how alike we actually were,” he said quietly.
She realized suddenly that he was right, and knew that on some level she had always known as well. He was her exact opposite, and therefore her equal. She let out a small sigh and felt his hand drop slightly from her throat to caress the base of her neck. She felt her eyes close without her permission as he sat up and slid closer to her. She could sense his face directly in front of hers and felt his breath. Her stomach dropped and she felt her head spinning slightly at his proximity. What was happening here? She had a million things she had to ask him, but at this moment all she could think about was his hand on her neck.
Draco sat before her studying her face. Her eyes were shut lightly and she swayed slightly as though dizzy. He had never thought he would ever be able to see her again. Even in the best times, he knew he would never be able to touch her again. But here he sat in her bed, his hand against her flesh, his face so close to hers. Draco found it difficult to concentrate and the world around him dimmed slightly, her face the only thing in focus. He could tell he was affecting her in a way he had only dreamed of. He could feel her pulse pounding against his hand, he could hear her shallow breath, he could see her fighting to stay focused.
She suddenly opened her eyes and met his gaze. He sucked in a breath at the intensity behind them. His head moved forward slightly until his forehead rested against hers, his nose brushing the side of hers. He closed his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to stifle a slight moan. Her mere presence was causing his body to react in a way it hadn’t for a very long time.
Her eyes widened at his slight moan. Thinking he had perhaps hurt himself, she asked quietly, “Are you okay?”
He laughed slightly at her question, and forced himself to pull away from her. He let his hand fall slowly from her neck and smiled slightly as he leaned back against the headboard. “Yes, I am fine.”
Clearing her throat uncertainly, Hermione finally allowed herself to breath normally again. Standing up she suddenly felt the need to flee, to get as far away from this man as possible. She could still feel her body’s response to him, and now that her head had cleared slightly she was a bit taken aback by it. “Good, well, listen, I should probably get you something to eat, and well you probably want to wash up a bit. I tried to get most of the blood off of you, but well, uh, the bathroom is right there. You should find everything you need,” she said in a rush and then proceeded to turn and walk out of the room.
Closing the door behind her, she let out a whoosh of air and put her hand to her neck where Malfoy had been gently caressing her. Yes, she decided, it had been a caress, not just a touch. She put both hands over her eyes and groaned in frustration. Shaking her head to clear her mind she decided that first she would deal with the situation at hand, and then she would, just maybe, think about what had just happened. “Right, kitchen,” she said and marched off to get some food for her strange patient.
Draco on the other hand was momentarily torn from his thoughts on Hermione by the pain shooting through his body as he attempted to move towards the bathroom. She had done a good job of closing his wounds and hiding his bruises, but the pain remained and showed through his stiff movements. He finally reached the small, white bathroom and debated over whether to allow himself the luxury of a bath, or to just have a quick shower. Though his muscles were screaming at him to choose the bath, he opted for the shower. If he sat down now, he didn’t think he would be able to stand up again.
Reaching over to turn on the showerhead, he allowed himself to relax completely for the first time in a very long time. He still had to warn her, he still had things he had to tell her, but for a moment he would allow himself to pretend he lived in a world where he could be happy, where she could be happy, where they were both safe. He sighed contentedly as he stepped into the shower and let the warm water run over his bruised body.
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Hermione listened as the shower ran in the bathroom. Wondering at how the fates had allowed Draco Malfoy to end up naked in her house, she prepared herself a bowl of pasta while making Malfoy a small sandwich. She didn’t really know if he was up to eating, but he had to get something into him. She stood stirring her pasta absentmindedly and tried to form questions to ask Malfoy. She had wanted to talk with him for so long, but now that he was just a few feet away in the next room, she couldn’t remember any of the questions she had wanted to ask him.
Suddenly she heard a faint popping noise and froze. “Hermione?” she heard from the living room.
“Oh shit!” she muttered. She watched as Harry came around the corner and entered the kitchen.
“Hey,” he said softly. He had stopped at the doorway and she could tell he was hesitant to enter completely. His face looked tired and unsure. “I am sorry to just pop in like this, I doubt you want to see anyone right now, but after last night I had too make sure you were okay. We are all worried about you Hermione,” Harry said carefully. He allowed himself to take two steps closer to her.
Hearing the shower go off, she frantically thought of ways to get rid of Harry before he realized she wasn’t alone in the flat. “Listen Harry, now is just not the best time for me okay! I have a lot on my mind and well would rather be alone right now.” She saw his crestfallen look and her heart went out to him. “I really do want to talk to you Harry, but just give me some time okay?” she pleaded with him.
She saw his body lose some of its tenseness and sighed happily to herself. “Yeah okay. Listen, whatever is going on we’ll figure it out okay?” he said to her and walked over to give her a brief but strong hug.
“Thanks Harry,” she smiled up at him.
“Yeah well, what would you do without me? Anyway I’m going to be at the Weasley’s today so you know where to find me if you need me,” he said as he turned to leave.
Hermione leaned back against the counter and watched as he was just about to exit the kitchen when suddenly, “Granger, what did you do with my clothes? I can’t find them anywhere?” asked Malfoy as he exited her room in nothing but a dripping wet chest and a white towel wrapped low around his waist. He froze when he saw Harry.
Harry had frozen when he heard Malfoy’s voice. Slowly he turned and saw a half naked Draco Malfoy after almost two years. “What the fuck?” Harry said angrily, his eyes darkening dangerously.
“Shit,” Malfoy muttered, his eyes wide.
“Oh Lord,” Hermione whimpered, looking back and forth between the two. And just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, she heard another popping sound in the next room.
“Harry, you talk to her yet? She all right?” came Ron’s voice, getting louder as he got closer. No one moved, Hermione waiting for what seemed like forever for Ron to approach. “Harry?” Ron asked. She saw the red hair of her friend behind Harry. “Harry?” Ron asked pushing past a still frozen and angry Harry. “You all right there mate?” Getting no response from Harry, Ron turned and looked at Hermione for the first time. “Oh hey Hermione. You okay? What is going on with Har...” he trailed off, his eyes finally catching site of Malfoy.
“Bloody hell,” Ron spit out, his face suddenly going a dangerous red. He whipped out his wand and launched himself towards Draco.
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A/N: Well??? Heehee, I had to throw in a half naked Draco since I gave you all a half naked Remus! It is only fair. Well I enjoyed writing this chapter so much more then the last one. I am trying not to rush things between Hermione and Draco, it would be too unbelievable, but the facts here are the Hermione is deeply affected every time she is around Draco. Anyone who has ever been in love or had a true crush knows this happens. She can’t control her body’s reaction to him and this scares her a little. She barely knows him, yet understands him. It is all very confusing! I hope I explained that enough to clear up any question regarding Hermione’s reactions.
Love, Ally
“Don’t say words you’re gonna regret. Don’t let the fire rush to your head. I’ve heard the accusation before, and I ain’t gonna take anymore.” -Eye In the Sky, Noa
Chapters 7&8
Title: The Winter Here Is Cold
Author: Hafthand (Ally)
Disclaimer: Property of J.K. Rowling
Summary: How did Draco end up bloody and unconscious in Hermione’s flat?
A/N: Well another update, another chapter! Thank you all for your great reviews. This next chapter is a tricky one, so I hope you like.!!
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He had been walking for a while in the rain now, the constant wet pounding nothing more then a slight disturbance. The dirty, long road that lay before him nothing more then a path he was barley aware of. His mind was a million miles away fighting a battle he was both winning and losing. When he had left the pub, he had made up his mind about where to go. The only thing left now was to just get it over with.
Part of him decided to blame the consumption of way too much alcohol. ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘the alcohol.’ He was slightly drunk and the thought that he was a wizard and could easily have apparated to his destination was sliding in and out of his mind. If he could convince himself that he didn’t have the ability to pop in and out of a place then maybe he could just walk this road a little longer. Maybe he could come up with an alternative to the plan he had laid out.
Shaking his hood covered head, he sighed and focused again on the country road before him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was walking the right way! “Just a little longer,” he whispered to the cold night. He needed just a little longer to work some of that alcohol out of his system. He just couldn’t show up drunk. Imagine the impression that would make. So he allowed his feet to carry him further into the black country around him as he let his mind carry him backwards. Tonight seemed like a night of remembering. Whether Draco Malfoy wanted to or not, something in the air this night kept forcing his mind back.
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He sat staring at her, completely unaware of anything around him. He watched the light play off her frizzy, yet shiny hair. He saw her bite down on the tip of the pencil in her hand, her forehead creased slightly in concentration. What he wouldn’t give to be able to know her thoughts at this exact moment. It seemed to him that it had been a long time since he had talked to her, and parts of him that weren’t supposed to exist were craving contact.
He managed to rip his eyes from her slender form and focus once more on the book in front of him. He continued to read about some potion he already knew how to make when he felt someone’s eyes upon him. Unconsciously holding his breath he turned ever so slightly towards her and let out his breath again in disappointment when he saw it wasn’t her. He let his eyes flow over the room, almost as a hunter searching for his prey does. Suddenly his eyes locked onto someone else’s. Malfoy froze.
He watched as Snape stared at him quizzically before turning to stare at Granger, then back to him. Had Snape caught him staring at her? Malfoy’s mind raced for a million possible excuses if Snape questioned him. He knew Snape was a Deatheater and the last thing he needed was for his father to find out things Malfoy had gone through great pains to hide.
“Mr. Malfoy, see me after class,” Snape barked out harshly. Malfoy nodded before lowering his head to his desk. He could feel the eyes of the entire class on him now. He looked up and instantly met her gaze. She had forgotten whatever lay in front of her and kept staring at him. He could see the mixture of emotions running through her eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Snape still staring at him along with some of his fellow classmates. He told himself to drop his eyes, to look away from her fiery gaze, but he couldn’t back down. She wasn’t looking away, and so neither was he. He would not surrender to her in this, no matter how sweet it would be.
He saw her notice Snape’s attentions and thought that she would finally look away, but once again Hermione Granger surprised him. Instead of looking away she did something completely unexpected. She closed her book, placed it carefully in her bag, which she threw over her shoulder, and then stood up.
“Yes, Miss Granger? Can I help you with something?” Snape asked viciously. But she ignored him and started walking towards Malfoy. Malfoy could hear Snape’s annoying voice in the distance somewhere but he was too caught up in watching her walk towards him, a look in her eyes that he had only seen once before.
By now the entire class watched as the Head Girl, Miss Perfect, ignored Snape’s threats of detention (or worse) and walked confidently towards the Head Boy. Her eyes were ice, and her body steel. His eyes were on fire, and his body tense in a way only a predator could have. She stopped in front of his table and paused to take him in with one long look. There was nothing sexual behind it, as much as Malfoy would have loved there to be. No, no, this girl was sizing him up as only a hunter does with its prey.
“Malfoy,” she said coldly.
“Granger,” he said softly. He eyebrows rose, as they did every time he used her name and not mudblood. You would think that after almost two years of the absence of the word she would be used to it by now. God, had it been almost two years already since he had fled from her eyes? Had it really been almost two years since things had changed between them?
“Follow me,” she said before turning and walking past Snape and out the door. Draco didn’t hesitate. He picked up his bag, grabbed his book and strolled past a gaping Snape and out of the room. He saw her slight figure ahead of him walking towards the stairs. He followed silently, though he did grimace slightly when he heard Snape screaming the word detention at him from down the hall.
He didn’t allow himself to wonder where she was leading him, or what she could possibly have to say to him. He didn’t allow his mind to think or concentrate on anything other then following her.
After about five minutes he figured she was leading him to the library. As they approached the entrance she paused and looked back at him for the first time since they had left the dungeons. Confirming that he had indeed followed her, she slid into the deserted library and walked through the stacks. She finally stopped in a dark, musty-smelling corner well out of eyesight.
“Well Granger,” he said, finally breaking the silence, “if you wanted to have your wicked way with me, couldn’t you have picked a more comfortable locale?” He leaned casually against the stacks and crossed his arms in front of him. He towered over, he noticed, by a good six or seven inches. She was leaning against the stacks behind her, conveniently cornered in but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were hard and distant.
“Why?” she asked softly. Her whisper startled Malfoy momentarily. He had expected her to shout at him with anger. Her voice clashed with her eyes and he was once again shaken to the core by this strange being. She was so very tiny, so fragile on the outside. But on the inside, she was death, ice, edges, heart, and strength. He suddenly pitied anyone who would ever choose to make her their enemy. They would regret it.
“Why what?” he asked, finally processing what she had asked.
“Before, what you said when we came in here, and in class. You were staring at me Malfoy. I read your eyes. There was no hate. You used my name, not mudblood, and though you made a crude, immature joke when we arrived here, there was no malice in it. There never is anymore. Why?” she asked, her eyes finally losing some of their fierceness. Her voice sounded tired. Hell, she looked tired. She put on such a convincing act around the others, but now, here with him, he could see the toll the past few years was taking on her mind and body.
Without thinking, his hand reached up and he gently held a piece of her hair in between his fingers. To her credit, she didn’t flinch. Even when he stepped closer to her, effectively pushing her body against the books behind her, she didn’t move. She stood waiting. He gently rubbed the hair between his fingers, and felt the warmness of her breath against his chin as he looked down at her. Had anyone come across them they would have thought they had stumbled upon two lovers enjoying a moment away from prying eyes. But that was not the case here.
Though he wanted nothing more then to just run away and slam his lips down onto her soft ones at the same time, he controlled both ends of his body and looked into her eyes. “Do you want that Granger? Do you want me to walk around here calling you my little mudblood, belittling you every chance I get? Do you really want me and my friends” he practically spit out the word, “to drag you through this school like the filth they believe you to be? Or should we throw you in a bag and haul your mudblood ass off to Voldermort and let him deal with you?” His eyes had never left hers and he noticed that she had not flinched once during his little speech. He would have smiled at her bravado had he been capable.
“Yes,” she suddenly whispered. He was taken aback. He let his hand drop from her hair and stumbled back a step, out of her personal space. He looked at her, his face betraying his confusion. He watched her for a moment before she slowly smiled a sad smile. “Yes Malfoy, I wish you would,” she said, a single tear falling slowly down her cheek.
He regained his balance and composure and walked towards her. He put his hands on the stacks behind her on either side of face. He pushed his body into hers trying desperately to control his teenage hormones. He felt her body against his and realized she had not tensed in fear. Her eyes were sad and lonely, but there was no fear. Her breath came out in short, quiet bursts against his chin. He lowered his face towards hers until his nose was touching hers. She didn’t once back down, the lone tear rolling softly down her face.
“And why in God’s name would you want that Hermione?” he whispered sadly, his lips brushing against her face so very slightly as he spoke. His eyes steel and fire. He saw her eyes widen slightly at his use of her first name, but she was quick to rein it in. She shifted her body slightly, causing him to swallow hard. Now would not be the time to let his fantasy’s get the better of him.
“It simple that way,” she said, her lips tickling his face slightly. She could see the question in his eyes and breathed in deeply, her chest pushing against his as she inhaled. It took all of Malfoy’s willpower to not take her right then and there.
“Simple?” he asked.
“Simple,” she replied. “When you hate me, the world makes sense. When you abuse me with your looks and your words, good and evil are clearly defined. When you look at me and all you see is mudblood, I know where I stand. But when you look at me with anything but hate in those eyes of yours Malfoy, that is when everything goes to hell,” she explained quietly, her lips so dangerously close to his.
He was beginning to understand her. He thought back to that day so long ago when he had held a dagger to her throat. He shuddered slightly at the memory and pushed his body harder into hers to steady himself. He moved his head forward slightly till his mouth brushed her ear. “You would like that wouldn’t you Granger? For things to be black and white, good and evil, wrong and right. It would make your world easier to live in wouldn’t it? Well let me tell you something princess, this world is a fucked up place and nothing will ever go the way you want it to,” he said harshly. He paused, his mind spinning at her closeness, at the slight scent of her perfume. Without thinking he leaned his head against hers. His cheek softly resting against hers; his lips still at her ear. He could feel the wet trail her tear had left against her cheek.
“Life is hard Hermione, so get used to it. You chose the crowd you hang out with; you knew what would be expected of you so don’t you dare sit there in self-loathing and pity. This was your choice, your choice to fight. Your choice to live this life, just like it was your choice to die not so long ago.” She gasped at his words.
“What gave you the right to give up huh? Life got a bit hard so you decided to take the coward’s way out?” he whispered harshly in her ear. Her body was unbelievably warm underneath his. He had no control over himself anymore. Words were tumbling out of him without his permission. Her proximity and her questions were slowing driving him mad.
“Wouldn’t that make you happy Malfoy? Wouldn’t that make your life easier? The mudblood gone. Wouldn’t that have made daddy proud?” she asked bitterly. Malfoy’s body stiffened slightly at the mention of his father and he was suddenly overcome with a horrible sense of fear. He pulled his face back slightly till he was looking her in the eye again.
“Granger don’t you ever talk about him. He would kill you in a second if he knew,” he whispered, letting a finger slowly caress the side of her face.
“Knew what?” she asked confused. Malfoy, realizing what he had just said pushed himself away from her gasping for air. She didn’t move, just watched him curiously.
“Damnit Granger!” Malfoy said running his hands roughly through his blonde hair. “Why now, huh? Why now? It’s been two years since I pinned you to that wall. Why are you suddenly so interested in why I didn’t finish the job, why I don’t call you names anymore, why I respect you?”
“It was time to ask,” she said simply, as though clearing up all the questions in his head. “You aren’t what you are supposed to be any more Malfoy. You haven’t been since you tried to kill me; since I almost let you.”
“Yeah, well you haven’t been the same either,” Draco said. He reached down and picked up his bag. Throwing it over his shoulder he turned away from her. Over his shoulder he said, “Listen, what I do, and how I choose to act is my business. Don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, you’ll just get hurt. And I think you have been hurt enough over the past years Granger. I think you have had just about all you can handle.” He started to walk away and heard her slide down to the floor. When he was clear of the library he once again fled from Hermione Granger. Ignoring the students in the now crowded hallways, Draco Malfoy ran for his life.
What had possessed him to touch her like he had, he never knew. He could still feel the heat of her against him and felt that anyone who looked at him would suspect something. He came to a halt as he suddenly remembered his bizarre exit from potions. If his father got wind of it there would be hell to pay. He had received enough beatings over the past years after his continual failure to dispose of Miss Granger. What would his father say if he knew he had just been having, what for Draco, was a civilized conversation with a mudblood. And not just any mudblood, oh no, the Dark Lord’s own personal favourite mudblood.
Draco wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure Voldermort’s interest in Granger was not solely observational. Shaking his head slightly, Draco shook off the worry that had been creeping up on him since the summer. As long as Granger was here at Hogwart’s she would be safe.
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Jerking back to the present, Draco laughed bitterly to himself at how foolish and naive he had been. That had been just a few weeks before the Christmas Holidays. A few weeks before his life had changed forever. A few weeks before he had killed his father.
Pushing down his memories quickly, he steadied himself and looked around the wet cold country. Well he had better get this over and done with. He took out his wand and held it at the ready. He knew Granger well enough to know that she wouldn’t hesitate to send a spell the way of a man apparating into her flat without her permission. So just in case, he wanted to be prepared. No sense dying before he got to explain a few things.
Taking a deep breath he apparated. His eyes had half a moment to adjust to the darkness in her flat when he sensed the other person in the room and instinctually flung his body sideways. The spell just grazed him but caught him enough to throw him against the far wall with a force that surprised him. As he fell to the floor he heard the distant popping sound of someone disapparting.
The person must have been waiting for Hermione to arrive, hoping to catch her unawares. ‘Oh, God!’ thought Malfoy, blood rushing out of his mouth. They must have thought they had succeeded in their mission. If he hadn’t of ducked at that precise moment he probably would be dead right now. He knew now what spell had been thrown at him. Not many people would know that spell. But that must mean someone had been sent here to kill her. ‘Fuck,’ he thought. He suddenly had a moment of perfect clarity where everything made sense. As he passed out in a pool of his own blood, he had one thought. ‘I have to warn Hermione.’
Love, Ally
“The winter here is cold and bitter, it chilled us to the bone, we haven’t seen the sun for weeks, too long too far from home. I feel just like I am sinking, and I claw for solid ground, I am pulled down by the undertow, I never thought I would feel so low, and oh darkness I feel like letting go.” -Full of Grace, Sarah McLaughlin (yeah I know I spelt it wrong)
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Chapter 8: Don’t Let The Fire Rush To Your Head
Author: Hafthand (Ally)
Summary: Draco wakes up.
A/N: This chapter came easier then I thought, and I am pretty happy with it. I hope you all like it. And here I thought that the first chapter was only going to be a one-off! You people and your reviews!! Ah, they make me write! Evil you all are! Lol. Seriously, you reviewers are excellent, especially my loyal ones, as I like to call you. I can always count on an honest review from yous! I love you all! On with the story!
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She stared around her allowing her eyes to leave Draco’s beaten body. There was glass everywhere from where it looked as though he had been thrown into a framed picture of the Hogwart’s grounds that had been hanging on her wall. Her furniture was slightly moved and it looked as though someone had been going through her drawers. She looked down quizzically at Malfoy. Had he been going through her stuff? Perhaps, but that didn’t explain why he was in such terrible shape. Had he stumbled across someone going through her flat? If so, why had he come to her flat in the first place?
“Ahh, once again too many damned questions and not enough answers,” she growled out. Bringing her attention back to Malfoy, she magically lit the lamps around her and gasped at the actual sight of him. She kneeled down and tentatively put her fingers against his bloody throat searching for a pulse. She found one, much to her relief, and sighed. What to do?
Gathering the wrapped dagger that Fred had just given her, she stood up and walked to the kitchen, carefully placing it in a drawer. Gathering some cloth and filling a bowl of warm water, she then returned to Malfoy’s side. She took a moment to stare at him. Underneath the blood he looked different then he had only a week ago. His face looked tired and worn. What had happened to him this past week, she wondered. Hell what had happened to him these past two years? She considered letting someone know that a very beat up Draco Malfoy was currently lying on her living room floor but thought better of it. She wanted some answers from this man, and when he woke up, answers she would get.
Taking a deep breath and pointing her wand at him, she muttered, “Wingardeom Leviosa.” Draco’s body magically lifted in the air, blood dripping from his body to the floor. “Shit,” she said, he was a bit more hurt then she had originally thought. She floated his body gently towards her room with the only bed in the house. The blood would stain her sheets, but she had never liked them anyway. Gently she lowered him to her bed and set the bowl of water on her nightstand.
She glanced down at his broken body and for a moment smiled slightly to herself. She had always secretly wondered what lay underneath Draco Malfoy’s robes. The closest she had ever been to him had been that day in the library. She had finally had enough and the time had come for her to confront him. She had never expected him to act the way he had. She had been pushed into every inch of his hard body and being a seventeen-year-old girl, she couldn’t help but wonder what lay beneath the garments.
“Well Hermione,” she sighed to herself. “Looks like you finally get your chance to find out.” She considered removing his clothes with magic, but she didn’t know how his wounds would be affected. She had no idea how deep they were and didn’t want to risk him losing more blood. She leaned over him and worked the buttons of his already torn shirt. She slowly peeled back the already blood soaked garment and gasped. On his right side was a gaping hole about six inches long. Whatever had hit him had certainly damaged him.
Finally realizing the danger he was actually in, Hermione made quick work with the rest of his clothes. She smiled slightly at the sight of his silk green boxers, but quickly brought her attention back to his wound. She made quick work of cleaning the blood from it, not wanting to aggravate it more. She washed his face of its dirt and put the bloody cloth back into the bowl of water. Grabbing her wand she pointed at him and muttered a few quick healing spells. His wounds closed and his bruises faded, but she was in no doubt that he would be in pain when he woke up, whenever that would be.
Gathering his wet and dirty clothes she went to the kitchen to throw them in the washing machine. Grabbing a blanket from the coach in the living room she muttered another quick spell to clean of the mess that Draco had left behind him. When he woke up, she wanted to know exactly what had happened. Turning off the lights she went back to her room. She saw the shallow rise and fall of his chest, and noticed how pale his face was. She hoped she had done enough for him, she wasn’t a doctor but she was confident in her abilities.
She grabbed the soft, sturdy chair from the corner of her room and brought it to the side of her bed. When he woke up she wanted to be there. She wasn’t going to give him an opportunity to escape. She had finally caught him and she was going to make sure she didn’t let him go until she was done with him. Try as she might to fight off sleep, the night finally took its toll on her and she passed into a deep and dreamless sleep.
She woke up to see a pair of grey eyes staring at her with intensity. For a moment she wondered what could make someone’s eyes so sad and then the previous night’s events came crashing down. She hurriedly sat up throwing her blanket to the floor. “Malfoy!” she practically shrieked.
A smile that didn’t reach his eyes crept to his lips. “Granger!” he mimicked.
She paused for a moment and then let it all out. “What the hell are you doing here? What the fuck happened to you last night? Where have you been for the past two years? I saw you on the train the other day you know that? We all thought you were dead. What the hell is going on!” she screamed. Taking deep breaths to regain her composure, Malfoy just sat watching her.
“Feel better?” he asked he quietly, still lying back on her bed.
“Believe it or not, yes,” she answered. Suddenly she laughed and sat on the edge of the bed next to him. “God that felt good getting that out. Somehow I always pictured that seeing you again would be some big dramatic thing. But now that you’re here and I have just asked you like a million questions it feels kind of silly you know,” she said shyly. “What happened to you?” she asked, absentmindedly reaching forward to touch his chest where a six-inch scar tenderly sat.
He gasped at her touch, though not from pain. He slowly sat up, the blanket pooling around his waist, and ignored the pain in his body as he leaned back against the headboard. “I apparated into your flat last night, only I wasn’t the only one here. Someone attacked me, threw a pretty dark curse at me, but luckily I moved in time. It just grazed me.”
Her mouth dropped open slightly, “Just grazed you? Hell, Malfoy I would hate to see what it would have done to you full on. You gave me quite a shock last night. You were pretty beat up.” She took in his appearance and realized he wasn’t as pale as the night before. She suddenly had the urge to brush his hair away from his eyes but quickly pushed the silly thought away.
He sat there in the silence, his breath harsh and quick from the pain his body was in. He saw her staring at him, her eyes clouded and dark. She was staring at him and remembering everything; all the pain he had caused her, all the questions left unanswered. He knew he had things to tell her, but now that he was this close to her, he decided that the answers could wait, just a little longer.
“Why are you here?” she asked him softly.
“Do I need a reason?” he asked, a spark of the old Malfoy suddenly flaring in his eyes.
“You never did before,” she said quietly.
“Simple. It was time,” he said.
“Harry and Ron think you are a danger to me,” she said somewhat shyly.
“I have heard their accusations a million times Hermione. You have taken lots of chances before, you are taking one now, keeping me here. You have no idea who I am and what I have done, yet you know me better then anyone else. You know I would never hurt you,” he said, putting a finger under her chin and lifting it up so she was forced to look at him.
“I have barely had more than a few real conversations with you Malfoy, how can you say I know you better then anyone else?” she asked, his finger under her chin burning her skin in a surprising way. His hair had fallen into his stormy eyes, and as he gazed at her with them, she felt her breathing quicken. He let his finger trail down from her chin to her neck where he gently placed the rest of his hand. He could feel the rapid beating of her pulse and he allowed himself a small smile. It had been so long since he had been able to look at her, just really look at her. Her beauty had not diminished, but had increased giving her a subtle charm. Her hair was still wild, but a bit more tamed. He resisted the urge to find out if it was as soft as it looked.
Hermione found herself blushing hotly under his scrutiny. She didn’t know why he had this effect on her. When she was younger, she had put it down to physical attraction. She had never dreamed of Malfoy but she wasn’t blind. He was then and still was a very attractive man. What she couldn’t explain was the shiver that ran through her the few times he had touched her. Harry was very attractive, but she did not blush when he touched her, she did not feel as though the temperature in the room had been raised by ten degrees when she was near him, she did not feel her breathing quicken under his gaze. No, Draco Malfoy always affected her differently. She had always been too afraid to dwell on why that could be, but now, under his gaze, his fingers on her body, his naked chest a few inches from her, she couldn’t ignore her body’s response to him.
“We are so very different from each other,” Draco said, interrupting her thoughts. His voice was a deep whisper. “So different, yet I don’t think I have ever met any one so like me. We have always been matched with each other. You were my opposite in everything. I a pureblood, you a mudblood. I had no family life to speak of, you have loving parents. You have true and loyal friends; I have only ever been surrounded by those after an association with my family name. I was destined for the dark, and you for the light. We were both made Heads of our year more for our differences, then our similarities. But it was those differences that made me realize how alike we actually were,” he said quietly.
She realized suddenly that he was right, and knew that on some level she had always known as well. He was her exact opposite, and therefore her equal. She let out a small sigh and felt his hand drop slightly from her throat to caress the base of her neck. She felt her eyes close without her permission as he sat up and slid closer to her. She could sense his face directly in front of hers and felt his breath. Her stomach dropped and she felt her head spinning slightly at his proximity. What was happening here? She had a million things she had to ask him, but at this moment all she could think about was his hand on her neck.
Draco sat before her studying her face. Her eyes were shut lightly and she swayed slightly as though dizzy. He had never thought he would ever be able to see her again. Even in the best times, he knew he would never be able to touch her again. But here he sat in her bed, his hand against her flesh, his face so close to hers. Draco found it difficult to concentrate and the world around him dimmed slightly, her face the only thing in focus. He could tell he was affecting her in a way he had only dreamed of. He could feel her pulse pounding against his hand, he could hear her shallow breath, he could see her fighting to stay focused.
She suddenly opened her eyes and met his gaze. He sucked in a breath at the intensity behind them. His head moved forward slightly until his forehead rested against hers, his nose brushing the side of hers. He closed his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to stifle a slight moan. Her mere presence was causing his body to react in a way it hadn’t for a very long time.
Her eyes widened at his slight moan. Thinking he had perhaps hurt himself, she asked quietly, “Are you okay?”
He laughed slightly at her question, and forced himself to pull away from her. He let his hand fall slowly from her neck and smiled slightly as he leaned back against the headboard. “Yes, I am fine.”
Clearing her throat uncertainly, Hermione finally allowed herself to breath normally again. Standing up she suddenly felt the need to flee, to get as far away from this man as possible. She could still feel her body’s response to him, and now that her head had cleared slightly she was a bit taken aback by it. “Good, well, listen, I should probably get you something to eat, and well you probably want to wash up a bit. I tried to get most of the blood off of you, but well, uh, the bathroom is right there. You should find everything you need,” she said in a rush and then proceeded to turn and walk out of the room.
Closing the door behind her, she let out a whoosh of air and put her hand to her neck where Malfoy had been gently caressing her. Yes, she decided, it had been a caress, not just a touch. She put both hands over her eyes and groaned in frustration. Shaking her head to clear her mind she decided that first she would deal with the situation at hand, and then she would, just maybe, think about what had just happened. “Right, kitchen,” she said and marched off to get some food for her strange patient.
Draco on the other hand was momentarily torn from his thoughts on Hermione by the pain shooting through his body as he attempted to move towards the bathroom. She had done a good job of closing his wounds and hiding his bruises, but the pain remained and showed through his stiff movements. He finally reached the small, white bathroom and debated over whether to allow himself the luxury of a bath, or to just have a quick shower. Though his muscles were screaming at him to choose the bath, he opted for the shower. If he sat down now, he didn’t think he would be able to stand up again.
Reaching over to turn on the showerhead, he allowed himself to relax completely for the first time in a very long time. He still had to warn her, he still had things he had to tell her, but for a moment he would allow himself to pretend he lived in a world where he could be happy, where she could be happy, where they were both safe. He sighed contentedly as he stepped into the shower and let the warm water run over his bruised body.
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Hermione listened as the shower ran in the bathroom. Wondering at how the fates had allowed Draco Malfoy to end up naked in her house, she prepared herself a bowl of pasta while making Malfoy a small sandwich. She didn’t really know if he was up to eating, but he had to get something into him. She stood stirring her pasta absentmindedly and tried to form questions to ask Malfoy. She had wanted to talk with him for so long, but now that he was just a few feet away in the next room, she couldn’t remember any of the questions she had wanted to ask him.
Suddenly she heard a faint popping noise and froze. “Hermione?” she heard from the living room.
“Oh shit!” she muttered. She watched as Harry came around the corner and entered the kitchen.
“Hey,” he said softly. He had stopped at the doorway and she could tell he was hesitant to enter completely. His face looked tired and unsure. “I am sorry to just pop in like this, I doubt you want to see anyone right now, but after last night I had too make sure you were okay. We are all worried about you Hermione,” Harry said carefully. He allowed himself to take two steps closer to her.
Hearing the shower go off, she frantically thought of ways to get rid of Harry before he realized she wasn’t alone in the flat. “Listen Harry, now is just not the best time for me okay! I have a lot on my mind and well would rather be alone right now.” She saw his crestfallen look and her heart went out to him. “I really do want to talk to you Harry, but just give me some time okay?” she pleaded with him.
She saw his body lose some of its tenseness and sighed happily to herself. “Yeah okay. Listen, whatever is going on we’ll figure it out okay?” he said to her and walked over to give her a brief but strong hug.
“Thanks Harry,” she smiled up at him.
“Yeah well, what would you do without me? Anyway I’m going to be at the Weasley’s today so you know where to find me if you need me,” he said as he turned to leave.
Hermione leaned back against the counter and watched as he was just about to exit the kitchen when suddenly, “Granger, what did you do with my clothes? I can’t find them anywhere?” asked Malfoy as he exited her room in nothing but a dripping wet chest and a white towel wrapped low around his waist. He froze when he saw Harry.
Harry had frozen when he heard Malfoy’s voice. Slowly he turned and saw a half naked Draco Malfoy after almost two years. “What the fuck?” Harry said angrily, his eyes darkening dangerously.
“Shit,” Malfoy muttered, his eyes wide.
“Oh Lord,” Hermione whimpered, looking back and forth between the two. And just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, she heard another popping sound in the next room.
“Harry, you talk to her yet? She all right?” came Ron’s voice, getting louder as he got closer. No one moved, Hermione waiting for what seemed like forever for Ron to approach. “Harry?” Ron asked. She saw the red hair of her friend behind Harry. “Harry?” Ron asked pushing past a still frozen and angry Harry. “You all right there mate?” Getting no response from Harry, Ron turned and looked at Hermione for the first time. “Oh hey Hermione. You okay? What is going on with Har...” he trailed off, his eyes finally catching site of Malfoy.
“Bloody hell,” Ron spit out, his face suddenly going a dangerous red. He whipped out his wand and launched himself towards Draco.
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A/N: Well??? Heehee, I had to throw in a half naked Draco since I gave you all a half naked Remus! It is only fair. Well I enjoyed writing this chapter so much more then the last one. I am trying not to rush things between Hermione and Draco, it would be too unbelievable, but the facts here are the Hermione is deeply affected every time she is around Draco. Anyone who has ever been in love or had a true crush knows this happens. She can’t control her body’s reaction to him and this scares her a little. She barely knows him, yet understands him. It is all very confusing! I hope I explained that enough to clear up any question regarding Hermione’s reactions.
Love, Ally
“Don’t say words you’re gonna regret. Don’t let the fire rush to your head. I’ve heard the accusation before, and I ain’t gonna take anymore.” -Eye In the Sky, Noa