You Have Risked Everything
Draco- June 1998
‘Draco,’
Draco lay on his back, pretending to be asleep.
‘Draco.’
He squeezed his eyes shut.
‘I know you’re awake.’
Draco’s eyes flew open in alarm as Theo got tired of waiting for a response and clambered onto his bed with a distinct lack of consideration for Draco’s limbs - or his bollocks.
‘Fucking hell Nott,’ he said. ‘Watch where you're putting your knees.’
‘Sorry,’ Theo’s face was disturbingly close to his as he continued his ungainly inhabitation of Draco’s bed.
He scrabbled about, trying to get under the blankets until eventually Draco sighed and lifted them, enabling Theo to wrangle his way underneath and snuggle in next to him.
Draco huffed as Theo inadvertently elbowed him in the ear as he drew the blanket up and smoothed it down around the two of them.
‘A Lumos might have helped,’ Draco said drily. ‘That way you could have seen which bits were my bed and which bits were my balls.’
Theo looked up at him and grinned, his face barely visible in the shaft of moonlight coming in through the gap in the curtains.
‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ Draco asked, aware that he was meeting Hermione in half an hour. He almost shivered in anticipation of getting her alone. He was sure his plan would work this time.
Theo stopped wriggling. He went still, one hand picking at a loose thread on the blanket. Draco waited, squinting down at Theo in the dim light.
He sensed a sudden change in the atmosphere.
‘Theo? Is everything ok?’
Theo sighed, and then seemed to come to a decision.
‘Draco, did you - did you say something, to my dad, at your dad’s funeral?’
Draco blinked into the darkness in surprise. He had not been expecting that to be what Theo wanted to talk about. The funeral was ages ago.
He paused for a moment. Not sure what Theo would want to hear.
‘I think you did, Draco.’ Theo said. ‘I think you did, because he’s never touched me since. Not even once.’
Draco felt a wave of nausea hit him, along with a wave of satisfaction. His threats had had their desired effect on Nott Senior, that was good to know.
But Theo had also confirmed his worst fear, and it brought up emotions Draco tried to keep stuffed down.
How could he explain how sorry he was, how much he regretted the fact that he knew Theo had suffered in other lifetimes too. How could he tell him how much he loved him, that Theo was like more than a brother to him, that he owed Hermione’s life to him, his own life in many ways.
He didn’t have the vocabulary for that at eighteen.
‘You’re the only one who knows what it’s like,’ Theo said, his voice barely a whisper.
‘To always feel like you’re on a knife edge, never knowing what’s coming next, just words? Or something worse.’
Draco sighed. He knew more than that. He knew too much about what it was like, what it had been like for him and Theo in previous lives.
He knew that in his last life, Theo had been experimented on by his father, like he was worth nothing. He had been left a shell of himself, with no magic, barely any conscious thought.
Draco didn’t know if anyone was still making Soul Stones. He hoped that without his father around, it had never happened, but he didn’t want to take that risk.
Draco hadn’t just threatened Nott Senior, he’d used his magic on him, scrambled his brain just a little.
He knew Snape was dealing with the people Draco had named in Hermione’s journals, but with Nott Senior it was personal.
‘I do know what it’s like Theo.’ He replied. ‘I know that your father is a cunt, just like mine was a cunt.’
‘But how do you know that? Because I didn’t tell you. What did you say to him?’ Theo asked, ‘what did you do?’
‘I-’ Draco didn’t know what to say. He started to speak, opening his mouth, finding his words had died on his lips and then closing it again.
‘Are you ever going to tell me about the journals?’ Theo whispered then. So quietly Draco wasn’t even sure he’d heard him.
‘What?’
‘I said, are you ever going to tell me what’s in those journals you read? The ones you look at when you think we’re asleep. The ones that make you cry sometimes.’
Draco froze.
‘Theo, I-’
‘You can tell me, you know.’ Theo said. ‘You can tell me anything. I’m your best friend.’
Draco looked over to where Blaise snored quietly from his own bed, then back to Theo.
He had trusted Theo with everything in his first life, trusted him to get Hermione to safety, trusted him with her life after his death. Theo had done so much for him, how could he lie to him now, to his face, when he was asking?
Draco ran a hand through his hair, tugging the front between his fingers and he took a deep breath.
‘Just give me one second.’ He muttered to Theo and ripped another corner from his text book.
He reluctantly scribbled a message on it, then conjured Spike and sent him on his way.
Another opportunity missed.
He’d need to explain to Hermione properly in the morning, but for now, Theo needed him more. He turned back to Theo, he was looking at him expectantly, his face open and trusting.
His best friend in the world.
Draco patted the mattress next to him as he lay down and Theo lay next to him.
He cast a Muffliato around the bed and they settled under the blankets, Draco’s blonde head coming to rest on top of Theo’s curly brown one.
Draco began to speak.
He whispered into the dark, the story taking him the entire night, and as the real truth of his life unfolded, Theo listened with increasing horror, shock and disbelief.
By the end of Draco’s story, when they both eventually fell asleep, their friendship bond was sealed, even closer than before, a bond tighter than any family either of them had ever known.
Hermione - June 1998
Hermione woke up grumpy and uncomfortable. She had been so nervous and excited to meet Draco that even after she got his message she hadn’t been able to sleep.
She wondered what could have possibly happened to stop him coming to the library. He had mentioned Theo in the note Spike brought.
She desperately hoped Theo was okay. She knew from Draco’s journal entries that Theo’s father hurt him too, that he had carelessly used his son to trial the Soul Stones in Draco’s last life.
She knew that Draco had dealt with Nott Senior at the funeral, and that McGonagall and Snape were dealing with any threats, but she’d still had a bad feeling in her gut all night.
When she had eventually fallen asleep she had dreamed of Draco as always.
She had woken up sweating and frustrated, her body craving him more than ever.
She dressed quickly and brushed her hair, yanking open the portrait hole, desperate to see him.
He was there, as expected, loitering in the corridor waiting for her.
‘Draco!’ She exclaimed, her stomach lurching at the sight of him, even though she spent almost all of every day with him.
He looked as handsome as always, his hair still wet from the shower, falling into his eyes.
He was wearing a grey knitted jumper over his shirt and tie, the material clinging to his broad shoulders, highlighting the upside down v of his Quidditch player physique.
Draco looked exhausted though, she thought, and slightly worried. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, craving the taste of him on her tongue.
He kissed her back fervently, his scent enveloping her as one hand snaked around her waist, the fingers of the other hand immediately finding their way into her hair.
Draco was the first to break the kiss, which was unusual.
‘Draco? Is everything okay?’ She asked, looking into his face, trying to determine the emotion there, creeping behind his eyes like smoke.
He looked back at her, his expression guarded, seeming almost reluctant to speak.
‘Draco, what?’ She said, ‘you’re scaring me.’
Eventually he sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. Hermione waited, feeling anxiety bubble in her chest.
‘I told Theo.’
The words were quiet, forced out on an exhale.
‘What do you mean?’ She said, ‘told him what?’
‘Everything,’
Hermione felt like Draco had slapped her.
She looked at him in shock.
They had sworn years ago that the only people they would tell were Snape and McGonogall, and that was only so that they could help them. The journals were charmed, no one else needed to know what they said.
They had agreed that the fact that they had both lived before, several times, was a secret they would take to the grave. There were too many implications for their friends, for Wizarding Britain in general for their secret to get out.
And Draco had just told Theo? Without asking her?
Theo could tell anyone.
He could tell Pansy and then the whole of Hogwarts would know.
Hermione felt her blood run cold.
She dropped her arms from around Draco’s neck and stepped back.
‘Hermione, don’t-’ he said. ‘I had to, he-’
‘I can’t believe you’d be so careless Draco.’ She said, feeling tears spring into her eyes immediately.
If anything happened and this affected the future, their future, she didn’t know what she’d do.
They had been so careful. She needed Draco to be safe, to be alive.
How could he?
‘This was our secret Draco, we’ve kept it for seven years,’ she whispered angrily, looking up and down the corridor before meeting his eyes again, seeing the fear in his expression.
‘You’ve betrayed my trust. I can’t believe you did something like this without telling me.’
Draco looked horrified, his pale, tired face became chalky and he swayed slightly.
‘Hermione, please, he’s my best friend, I-’
‘Don’t you dare Draco.’ She hissed, too angry and worried to listen. ‘Don’t try and excuse it. We swore.’ She backed away from him.
‘Leave me alone.’
‘What? Hermione, what do you mean?’
‘What I said Draco. Do not come after me.’ She snapped.
And for the first time in their new life, Hermione walked away from Draco, turning her back on him and storming to the Great Hall alone.
Draco - June 1998
Draco watched Hermione go, her curls bouncing, her skirt swishing at her thighs and he thought he was actually going to be sick, there and then in the Gryffindor corridor.
What had he done?
Draco had thought he owed it to Theo, he’d thought Hermione would understand.
But, fuck, she’d said, ‘leave me alone,’ she’d actually said those words, to him.
His Hermione didn’t want him near her.
Draco felt his chest begin to tighten, his heart rate begin to increase.
What was happening?
He stumbled slightly, seeing spots appear behind his eyes. He leaned against the wall, hands on his thighs, feeling his shoulders shake as he fought to breathe.
‘Dray?’ He looked up to see Potter, blinking at him behind his glasses as he stepped out of the portrait hole and came to his side.
‘Are you okay? What’s wrong?’
Draco tried to answer but his breath stuttered in his chest.
Potter's face grew concerned, ‘what’s happening? Should I get Hermione?’ He asked.
‘N-no,’ Draco managed to stutter out. He fought to regain control of himself, feeling Potter's hand on his shoulder, his embarrassment at being seen like this palpable, even through his panic.
‘Where is she?’ Harry said, ‘hasn’t she come out yet?’
‘No, I’m- I’m fine,’ Draco said, desperately sucking in short bursts of air. ‘I think- she’s already- at breakfast.’
‘Without you?’ Potter's green eyes grew wide.
‘Maybe she thought you were already there, shall we go and find her?’
Draco couldn’t answer, but he let Harry guide him to the Great Hall, feeling himself calm slightly as he listened to Harry quietly make small talk about Quidditch, about something new he wanted them to try.
He knew what Harry was doing, and it was working. Harry had seen him like this, once, after the death of his father, he knew how to bring Draco down.
By the time he got to the hall his panic had passed at least, but he still thought he might be sick.
He scanned the hall for Hermione, his heart sinking when she wasn’t there.
Blaise bounced up to them both, chatting animatedly and within seconds Harry and Blaise were laughing, Harry’s eyes still darting to him as they made their way to Ron who was standing with Pansy and Theo, waiting for them all.
‘Where’s Hermione?’ Blaise asked Draco, and they all stopped dead looking at him.
‘I- I don’t know,’ Draco stuttered out. ‘We’ve had a, kind of a-’
‘You’ve had a row?’ Pansy asked, a look of incredulity on her face. ‘The world's most obsessed lovebirds have had a row?’
Draco didn’t know what to say. His words got stuck.
Four pairs of eyes looked at him in disbelief, one large blue pair looked at him guiltily.
Theo knew she knew.
Draco shook his head almost imperceptibly at Theo, it wasn’t Theo’s fault, it was his.
He’d wanted to tell Theo for a long time, he should have spoken to Hermione about it, asked her thoughts before he went blindly ahead and did it.
‘Mate, are you okay?’ Blaise said, his voice low as he came to stand next to him.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Draco shook his head, grateful for Blaise but not wanting to tell anyone else and make things worse.
‘It’s nothing.’ He said, ‘she’ll be fine.’ He didn’t believe it for a second. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
He sat in between Theo and Blaise at the Slytherin table, his eyes continually scanning the room for Hermione. Where was she?
He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t even drink the glass of water Blaise placed in front of him.
He walked to Transfiguration in a daze, hoping and praying to Merlin that Hermione would be there, that he could sit next to her and explain to her how sorry he was.
Theo could be trusted. Surely she knew that?
But when they got to class, Draco almost bent over with the punch to his gut that came when he walked in and saw Hermione sitting next to Parvati, her head bent, writing in her notebook.
She raised her eyes as he walked in, they were red rimmed and raw, her nose pink tipped, a tissue crumpled in her hand.
He looked at her in horror, opening his mouth to say something, but she immediately looked away, her chin trembling.
Parvati gave him a foul look and put her arm around Hermione, whispering in her ear.
What had she given as the reason for her tears? He wondered, what would people believe was a good enough reason for her to sit separately from him, for the first time in seven years?
Draco felt Blaise’s hand clap him on the shoulder, and turned to see his friends looking at him sympathetically.
‘Come, just sit with us today mate,’ Blaise said. ‘Whatever it is, she’ll get over it. She loves you.’
Theo said nothing. He just looked over at Hermione and chewed on his lower lip, his hands balled at his sides.
Draco began to walk towards the desk with Blaise but something stopped him.
She couldn’t do this.
He couldn’t handle it.
He felt his feet taking him towards Hermione’s desk.
He approached her from behind, feeling himself slipping as he inhaled the scent of her, close enough to touch her hair. He wanted to reach for her, to beg her.
‘Hermione,’ he said softly, ‘please, talk to me,’
‘Go away Draco,’ Parvati said venomously, whipping her head around. ‘She doesn’t want to talk to you. I don’t know what you’ve done but it must be bad. You’ve made her cry.’
Draco felt a wave of irritation at Parvati. Who did she think she was? This had nothing to do with her.
He swallowed hard and ignored her.
‘Hermione,’ he said. ‘Look at me.’
‘Leave me alone.’
The words came from a face that was turned away from him, she wouldn’t look at him. He reached out a hand, gently placed it on hers. She shook it off and then turned to him, her eyes ablaze.
‘You’ve risked everything Draco,’ she said, and he heard it in his head. She was using Legillimency, something they rarely did.
‘I’ll never forgive you if anything goes wrong.’
Draco couldn’t respond. He was still trying to formulate an answer, still processing what she’d said when she suddenly stood, scraping back her chair, and left the classroom, storming past McGonagall as she did, whipping the teachers robes and causing her to turn and watch her go, before turning back to Draco, her blue eyes sharp and questioning.
The eyes of the class turned to him, people whispered behind their hands, he heard giggles and mutters, exclamations of excitement, as though Hermione and Draco’s lives were entertainment.
Even after all it had taken to get here.
It was too much. Draco was confused. He didn’t know what to do, what he should have done.
The anger came on him without warning, he didn’t even feel it begin, but suddenly it was there, a black rage, making his blood thunder in his ears, his vision whiteout and all sense leave his brain.
Before he even knew what he was doing, Draco’s hands had come up.
He roared in frustration as he flipped the desk on its end, scattering parchment and smashing ink pots over the floor with an almighty crash.
Parvati screeched and ran to the back of the class. There was a collective gasp from around the room, a muttered ‘oh fuck,’ from Blaise.
Draco barely heard McGonagall calling after him as he left. He needed to find Hermione, that was all he cared about now. He stormed out of the classroom, his legs making short work of closing the distance between them.
He followed behind her, watching her hair fly out behind her as she turned the corner.
He knew where she was going.
As she slammed her way through the library door Draco was on her heels, she stormed to the back, past Madame Pince who watched them go, her friendly greeting wholly ignored.
Hermione snatched the curtain that separated the restricted section from the rest of the library and disappeared behind it.
Hermione - June 1998
Hermione whirled around as she heard Draco whip his way through the curtain. He was close behind her, his nostrils flaring, his eyes ablaze.
He was breathing heavily, stepping closer to her as she pressed herself into the corner.
She needed to stay angry, she couldn’t let the sight of him, the smell of him, sway her.
‘Hermione,’ he said, his voice gentle despite the intensity of his gaze.
‘Please. Tell me what I can do?’
She couldn’t speak. She knew why he had told Theo, she knew as well as anyone how much Theo meant to Draco, how much he meant to her.
But she was just so terrified.
She loved Draco so forcefully, so desperately that she couldn’t cope with the thought of something going wrong.
They had fought so hard for this.
Didn’t he understand? He’d read the journals, he knew how much was at stake.
Draco came closer, his eyes burning into hers. She felt herself waver, her hands twitching towards him.
He stepped closer again.
‘Talk to me,’ he said, ‘don’t do this, please.’
Her eyes locked on his. She opened her mouth, about to speak, when suddenly the curtain was yanked back.
Madame Pince’s head appeared, her face grim.
‘Draco Malfoy,’ she said. ‘Professor McGonagall is looking for you. You’re wanted in Professor Snape’s office- IMMEDIATELY.’