Château de la Serpentine
Hermione (Age 17)
They lay intertwined in the familiar dark room beneath the archway. Hermione laid comfortably on Draco's chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart was more comforting than a lullaby. It felt so much different than waking up in the arms of the real Draco. This dream version of him was as familiar to her as Arys. The way they were able to sit in comfortable silence was a testament to their deep bond, a connection that transcended the boundaries of reality.
Her head was on his chest as his finger traced up and down her back languorously.
"Okay, guess," He said after he had finished drawing a word on her back.
"Hmmm..." She knew what he had written but liked to drag it out. "I'm not sure, do it again."
His chest rumbled slightly with a chuckle, and he traced the word again.
"Is it... 'Intelligent'?"
"Yes," he said into the darkness.
"Do another one."
He began drawing on her back again. After he finished, she guessed again.
"'Beautiful'?"
"Yes."
She smiled to herself, her heart feeling warm and content.
"Why do you always do that?" she asked.
"Do what?"
"Flatter me..."
"Is it flattery if it's true?"
She rolled her eyes, knowing he couldn't see them anyway.
"I wish you were real," She said, almost to herself.
"Just because it's happening in your head, doesn't mean it's not real," He replied.
She pondered his words, her mind racing.
"I guess you're right," She agreed.
"What's been on your mind recently? You've seemed lost in your thoughts," He asked.
The irony of his statement while she was currently wrapped in her own subconscious version of Draco Malfoy was not lost on her.
"I guess I've just been thinking about what happens next, you know, where life will take me once Arys leaves home," She replied thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?" He asked, his voice filled with curiosity.
"Well, Arys will be leaving next year for New York, obviously he can't continue to live his life in London in hiding," She explained.
"And...?" Draco prompted.
"And obviously it will be a big transition for us," She said thoughtfully.
"Yes, I'm sure it will be quite hard to be without Arys after all of these years," He responded with understanding.
"I will never be without Arys..." She said confidently. "I'm planning to go with him."
His featherlight fingers on her back halted at her words.
"I'm not sure I understand..." He said hesitantly.
"When Arys leaves London, I plan to too," She said matter-of-factly.
He didn't speak for a long time, seemingly thinking through her words.
"What about Malfoy?" he finally said.
"What about Malfoy?" She said with confusion.
"You would just leave him behind? You would choose Arys over him?"
She didn't need to think twice before responding. "It's not even a choice."
She felt the slow breaths beneath her head pause, and she turned to look at him.
"What's wrong?" she asked, confused by his response.
"Lucius will never allow it," he said smoothly.
"I wasn't planning on telling anyone," she said as she stared into his eyes.
"Malfoy would find you," he responded quickly.
"I think you overestimate his interest in me," She said as she laid her head back on his chest.
"No, I don't think I do," He replied, his voice firm.
*****
It had been a few days since Hermione had found the wand in her room, but she hadn't mustered the courage to touch it yet. She had also been avoiding Draco at all costs. She had seen him in the hallway several times, both with a trail of followers and while he was alone. Whenever she saw him, she would hide immediately or silence her footsteps with a wandless charm and run for her life in the opposite direction. She was beginning to question whether the sorting hat made a mistake with her house with how much courage she had been lacking.
She decided it was time to try out her new wand and had asked Arys to apparate her to the garden since she was unable to do so herself, having never been added to the wards.
After Arys had left her, promising to return in a couple of hours, Hermione sat near the pond and opened the box.
The wand was so beautiful. She wasn't sure what type of wood it was or what the core was made of, but she could feel it call to her, feel the magic buzzing off of it. It was long and slender, with a deep, rich brown hue and intricate carvings of willow leaves and branches.
When she finally mustered the courage to lift it from the box, a soft, ethereal glow emanated from it, and a gentle breeze seemed to stir around her.
Her eyes widened in surprise. She felt a strange connection to it, as if it were an extension of herself. It was as if the wand had been waiting for her all along. She waved it gently, and a small flock of shimmering butterflies appeared around her.
She stared at the butterflies in awe. Her body was warm, her heart complete. It was as if she could finally breathe fully after years of not realizing that someone was sitting on her chest.
She held the wand to her heart and closed her eyes in gratitude before she returned it to the box.
"It's crafted from the wood of a particularly ancient and wise willow tree that once stood on the grounds of Hogwarts. Its core is a phoenix feather that was allegedly plucked from Fawkes, the late Albus Dumbledore's phoenix," a familiar voice said.
Hermione turned to face the voice and was met with familiar piercing silver eyes. Her stomach bottomed out.
"They say a wand is meant to choose its wielder. I am glad this one seems to fit," Draco said, approaching her from the brush.
She eyed him warily, but she didn't have the words to respond.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding me..." he said, leaning against the oak tree, his hands in his pockets.
"I- um- I am not avoiding you," She stumbled through her words as she stood.
He dropped his gaze, eying her knowingly.
"Okay... fine... I have been avoiding you," she admitted reluctantly.
"Why?" he asked curiously.
"I don't know," she said as she averted her gaze. "I guess I'm just confused..." She decided she had nothing to lose, she might as well be honest. "...You're giving me whiplash," she said bluntly.
Draco stared at her thoughtfully, before he turned his gaze to the pond.
"How about a swim?" he said, his eyes seeming to glitter with a mischievous glint.
"Oh um... I can't swim," she said quickly.
"You seem to think you can't do a lot of things... I think you underestimate yourself," Draco replied, his voice playful.
She blushed at his words, knowing he referred to something else entirely.
"It's freezing..." she retorted, barely able to keep eye contact.
He pulled his wand from his holster and sent a silent spell toward the small lake.
"No, it's quite warm now actually," he said with a devious smile.
He eyed her, a silent dare playing on his face, as he began removing his clothes. As he pulled his shirt over his head, she stared dumbfounded at the way his stomach and arm muscles rippled. His belt clicked and he dropped his pants. She had to remind herself to close her mouth as he stood shirtless, in his shorts, before her.
Without another word, he leapt into the pond. She was surprised by his form, expecting a smooth dive, but he had cannonballed in like a child.
When he broke the surface, he stared at her expectantly.
"No" was all she could manage to say.
"Come on - where is that Gryffindor courage?" he taunted.
She rolled her eyes at him and he sucked in a mouthful of water and spat it towards her.
She approached the edge of the water, arms crossed. She was mesmerized by him as he flicked his wet hair back away from his face, his cheeks beginning to redden from the heat of the water.
She contemplated for a moment longer. He seemed to sense her internal battle and swam near the edge of the pond, standing in the water.
"I promise, I won't let you drown," he said as he reached his hand toward hers.
"Fine," she finally agreed, wondering to herself why she always seemed to let people convince her to do things she didn't want to.
The crisp autumn air nipped at her cheeks as she approached the pond. The water shimmered in the fading sunlight, inviting and steaming with heat. She dipped her toes in, and a shiver of pleasure ran through her. The contrast between the warm water and the chilly air was invigorating.
She pulled her jumper over her head, the soft fabric brushing against her skin. Next, she unbuttoned her pants, hesitating for a moment as she glanced at Draco. "A little privacy, please?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Draco turned away. "Fine. I am not looking," he said coolly.
With a relieved sigh, she stripped down to her undergarments and slowly made her way into the pond. The water felt incredible as it enveloped her legs, rising higher and higher. She paused when it reached her shoulders, the depth she was most comfortable with.
As she stood in the warm water, she couldn't help but smile. The worries of the week seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and tranquility.
Draco turned, his eyes meeting hers. His wet, dark, lashes were such a stark contrast to his bright blonde hair. A soft smile played on his lips as he extended his hand towards her. Hesitantly, she placed her own hand in his, her heart now pounding in her chest.
With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, her body weightlessly floated toward him as her feet left the ground. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her as their bodies pressed together. For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.
He wrapped her legs around his waist as they bounced gently in the water, their bodies moving in unison. She felt a sense of contentment wrapped in his strong arms, the rhythmic water lapping against their skin. She had to admit, she felt safe and protected in his embrace, despite his prior transgressions.
His arms tightened around her, drawing her closer as he ventured deeper into the heart of the pond. The water lapped higher, and she felt a pang of anxiety when his feet no longer grazed the soft bottom.
"Too deep! Too deep!" Her voice rose, echoing through the stillness.
He flashed a mischievous grin, his silver eyes gleaming with amusement. The pond deepened further, swallowing them both in its embrace. He gently pinch closed her nose, and before she could protest, they were submerged.
Beneath the water's surface, silence enveloped them. It was an eerie, beautiful quiet. Bubbles swirled past her open eyes, and there he was, gazing at her through the clear water. His blonde hair floated around him like a halo.
When they broke the surface, gasping for air, he tenderly brushed her damp, dark hair away from her face. His hand lingered at the back of her head, his gaze unwavering.
"Malfoy..."
"Yes?" His voice was a husky whisper.
She looked up at the oak's branches, the sky now dark and sprinkled with stars.
"What happened between us before...it can't happen again."
"And why is that?" His head tilted, a curious glint in his eyes.
Her thoughts swirled, each reason tangled with the next.
"You're thinking too much." His whisper caressed her ear as he leaned into her.
A gentle surge of magic brushed the edges of her consciousness, and she let her eyelids flutter shut. A familiar euphoria blossomed within her, warm and comforting.
"Your mind is unlike any other I've ever seen," his voice was filled with awe as it floated through her head.
Her skin prickled with a delightful tingle. Draco remained silent, his features relaxed, eyes closed. She wondered if he experienced the same overpowering sensation, the same blissful connection.
"What does it feel like for you?" Curiosity laced her voice.
He seemed to ponder her question, savoring each word.
"Your magic," he finally replied, his voice a velvety caress, "is like liquid sunshine flowing through my veins."
****
The following morning, Hermione was navigating the windy corridors of Malfoy Manor, her mind preoccupied. She was meticulously compiling a list of essentials for Dolly to procure on her upcoming visit to Diagon Alley. Lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice the solid figure approaching and collided with a firm chest, sending her quill scattering across the floor.
"Hello," a smooth voice greeted her. Draco stood before her, effortlessly plucking the parchment from her startled grasp.
"Hey, give me that!" she exclaimed, rising on her tiptoes in a futile attempt to reclaim her list from him.
He nonchalantly ignored her protests, his eyes scanning the contents of the list with growing amusement.
"You're insufferable," she grumbled, finally conceding defeat as he continued to peruse the parchment.
"A bathing suit, undergarments..." he read aloud, his eyebrow arching suggestively. "What is this for?"
"It's a list of things for Dolly to pick up on her next trip to Diagon Alley," she replied with an exasperated sigh.
He finally relinquished the list, a sly grin playing on his lips.
"I was planning a trip to Diagon Alley today...come with me."
Her jaw dropped open in astonishment. She had never ventured into the wizarding world's bustling marketplace. The mere thought of exploring its enchanting alleyways sent a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins.
"What? When?" She stammered, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.
"Now," he declared, a twinkle in his eyes.
"Umm...okay...let me just grab my things," she managed to say, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure despite the giddy anticipation bubbling within her.
They arrived via floo to Diagon Alley an hour later.
Wide-eyed wonder filled Hermione’s face as they stepped into the marketplace, the bustling sounds and vibrant colors washing over her like a magical wave. The cobblestone street stretched before her, lined with shops with colorful signs. Her gaze darted from towering stacks of cauldrons to cages filled with fluttering owls, her heart pounded with a mix of awe and nervous excitement. The air hummed with the chatter of witches and wizards, the clinking of coins, and the occasional hoot or squawk of a magical creature. Every sight, every sound, every scent was exciting and new. A shy smile spread across her face as she took a tentative step forward, eager to explore all the wonders. Draco’s hand was pressed into her lower back as he guided her down the street toward their first destination.
A gasp escaped her lips when Flourish and Blotts came into view. The towering, multi-storied building seemed to lean precariously, its walls stacked high with books of every size and color imaginable. The windows shimmered with enchanted displays. The enticing aroma of aged paper and leather-bound books wafted out onto the street, beckoning her closer.
The interior was exactly as she always imagined it would be. Towering bookshelves, reaching towards the high, vaulted ceilings, packed tightly with books. Sunlight filtered through the dusty windows, casting long shadows across the floor. The shop was scattered with cozy reading nooks, inviting armchairs, and plush sofas. The soft murmur of conversation blended with the rustling of pages. She released a long sigh.
Draco had claimed a plush armchair in a sunlit corner of the shop, engrossed in a leather-bound book. Hermione, on the other hand, had been flitting through the aisles like a hummingbird in a field of wildflowers for over an hour. Her eyes sparkled as she pulled books from the shelves, her fingers trailing over their titles and spines.
Time seemed to stand still as she explored the shop's vast collection. She unearthed hidden gems tucked away on forgotten shelves, her heart leaping with each new discovery. The towering stacks of books just grew taller and taller in her arms.
She approached the counter, her arms filled with the leaning tower of books. Draco stepped forward and smoothly took the stack of books from her, his lips curving into a faint smile as he observed her obvious reluctance to part with her new treasures.
After purchasing the books for her, Draco exchanged a few words with the shopkeeper. A moment later, the shopkeeper nodded and assured him that the books would be promptly delivered to Malfoy Manor.
They departed Flourish and Blotts, their footsteps echoing on the cobblestone street as they ventured deeper into the bustling heart of Diagon Alley. Hermione, still basking in the afterglow of their literary escapade, was abruptly jolted back to reality by the sight of a familiar face weaving its way through the crowd towards them.
"Cedric?" she whispered, her eyes widening in disbelief.
It was Cedric Diggory, accompanied by an older gentleman. They were about to pass by without a second glance when Cedric's gaze landed on Draco. A warm smile spread across his face.
"Hello, Draco," Cedric greeted cheerfully.
"Cedric," Draco replied with a curt nod, his expression guarded.
Cedric's eyes then shifted to Hermione, lingering on her with an inquisitive glint.
"And who might you be?" he inquired, extending his hand towards hers with a charming smile.
Her mind reeled. What was happening? Had he truly forgotten their encounter at the ball?
"I'm Hermione," she responded slowly, allowing him to take her hand, her confusion evident. "We met during the Ball at the Manor, just last week."
"I am sure I would remember that," Cedric countered smoothly, his lips brushing her hand in a gentle kiss.
Draco's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he observed the exchange, as flicker of possessiveness crossed his features. Cedric, sensing the subtle shift in the air, released her hand.
"Well, it was very nice to see you, Draco," Cedric said with a slight bow, his smile unwavering. "And to meet you... Hermione," he added, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he and his companion continued on their way.
She watched them disappear into the crowd, a sense of bewilderment settling over her.
"How odd," she murmured, turning to Draco, who remained silent, his expression unreadable.
Thirty minutes later, she found herself within the dimly lit confines of a boutique fitting room. A full-length mirror reflected her form as she critically assessed the swimsuit she had initially selected. The modest black one-piece, while practical in theory, clung awkwardly to her frame, bunching and sagging in all the wrong places. A sigh escaped her lips as she glanced at the other swimsuits strewn across the small bench. Among them, one particular item stood out - a tiny red string bikini that Draco had mischievously slipped into her pile with a knowing smirk. Curiosity piqued, she hesitantly reached for the garment.
The bikini was scandalously small, the fabric barely covering the essentials. As she slipped it on, a wave of self-consciousness washed over her. A nervous laugh escaped her lips. This couldn't possibly be what people wore to swim in, she thought, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. It felt more like an elaborate prank than actual swimwear.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the fitting room and into the lounge area where Draco sat, casually flipping through a magazine. She cleared her throat, attempting to project an air of disapproval as she crossed her arms over her chest, though a playful smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
When Draco finally looked up, his eyes widened in surprise, his jaw slackening. A moment of stunned silence hung in the air before he managed to compose himself, closing his mouth with an audible click. His gaze swept over her exposed body, lingering a beat too long on her curves.
"This is ridiculous," she declared, her voice a mix of defiance and amusement.
"I wholeheartedly disagree," Draco drawled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes raking over her once more, a flicker of something primal in their depths.
"I wouldn't be caught dead wearing this in public," she retorted, "but I guess it doesn't matter anyway, no one is going to see me in it except for probably Arys."
Draco's eyes narrowed, "On second thought," he said, his voice clipped, "go with the black one."
With arms full of bags, they made their way back towards the floo. The sounds of Diagon Alley swirled around them, and Hermione hoped she would be able to return someday.
Suddenly, a woman's voice, crisp and authoritative, sliced through the bustle of the alley. "Draco," she called, emanating from somewhere to their side.
Hermione turned, her curiosity piqued. She had never seen this woman before. The stranger approached, her figure swathed in a flamboyant ensemble of pink silk robes. Jewels glittered on her fingers and neck, and her sharp hazel eyes assessed Hermione with undisguised disdain.
"Congratulations on your recent promotion, much deserved," she purred, her voice laced with a saccharine sweetness that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Thank you, Headmaster Umbridge," Draco replied, his tone carefully neutral.
Umbridge's gaze flicked between Draco and Hermione, her lips curling into a thin smile. "I have heard rumors of the Dark Lord's most recent initiatives regarding the Mudbloods plaguing our population," she continued, her voice taking on a sharper edge. "I agree that it is time to address the infestation that has been growing."
Hermione's body stiffened at the derogatory term, a wave of anger and fear washing over her. Draco shot her a careful glance but remained silent.
Umbridge's eyes narrowed as she continued. "I am sure, given your standing, you could easily convince our Lord to allow you to keep your... property," she sneered, emphasizing the word 'property' with a venomous twist, "...but I will be glad to see the other vermin separated from our population, as they should be."
Before Draco could respond, Umbridge dismissed them with a wave of her bejeweled hand. "Well, I must be going. It was so nice to see you, Draco. I look forward to seeing what's to come for you in your new position." With that, she turned and disappeared down the alleyway, leaving a trail of sickly sweet perfume in her wake.
A heavy silence settled between Draco and Hermione. The encounter had left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she was ready to go home.
****
“Any sign of Ruby?” Hermione asked when she found Arys alone in his room, looking sadly out the window.
“No, unfortunately not.” He said quietly.
“I am sure she will turn up as she always does.” She said as she placed a gentle hand on his back. “Are you leaving soon? I am going to miss you.”
Lucius had arranged a trip to New York City to scout potential accommodations for Arys's upcoming healing internship the following year. It was no secret that Lucius had pulled some strings, greasing palms and leveraging his considerable influence to secure this opportunity for Arys. The unspoken agreement was one of mutual benefit: Arys would gain valuable experience, and the institution would receive a generous donation in exchange for their discretion regarding Arys's true identity.
Hermione couldn't help but be taken aback by Lucius's uncharacteristic involvement. Perhaps it was a calculated move to expedite Arys's departure from the manor, a way to rid himself of the constant reminder of his darkest secret. Or maybe, just maybe, a flicker of paternal concern had ignited within the cold depths of his heart. Whatever the motivation, she couldn't deny the sense of relief she felt. Arys deserved to find a place where he could live his life as himself, far from the shadows of Malfoy Manor.
Sje walked over to the bed and sat down, her mind still reeling from the unsettling encounter with Headmaster Umbridge earlier in Diagon Alley. A sense of unease gnawed at her.
"Arys..." she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Arys joined her on the bed. His piercing blue eyes seemed to see straight into her soul, sensing her anxiety.
"What's wrong?" he inquired gently, his voice laced with concern.
She fidgeted with her hands, her gaze fixed on her lap. "If Voldemort wanted me dead... could we leave earlier than planned for New York?"
His face fell, his brow furrowing with worry as he observed her nervous movements. Without a word, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. She leaned into him.
"Hermione," he murmured, "there is nothing I wouldn't do to ensure your safety."
"I'm scared, Arys," she confessed, her voice trembling slightly.
Arys held her tightly. The room fell quiet, the only sound the soft rhythm of their breathing.
Suddenly, the door swung open, shattering the peaceful moment. Draco stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on them with a mixture of surprise and barely contained anger. His jaw clenched as he took in the sight of them entwined on the bed.
"Lucius is ready for you," he said coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Arys and Hermione slowly disentangled themselves. They shared a final, tender embrace. Then, he reluctantly left the room, leaving her alone with her swirling thoughts and anxiety.
****
Later that night, Hermione was jolted awake by loud sounds – things crashing, splintering, and shattering. The noise seemed to reverberate through the very walls of the manor, sending a shiver down her spine. Concerned, she threw back the covers and crept out of the safety of her bedroom, following the commotion that grew louder with each step.
The sounds were unmistakably coming from Draco's quarters. A guttural scream pierced the air, followed by the sickening crunch of breaking furniture. Alarm bells rang in her mind and she quickened her pace.
She reached his door, her hand raised to knock, but the urgency of the situation overruled her manners. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open.
The sight that greeted her was one of utter chaos. The once meticulously ordered room was now a scene of devastation. Shards of broken glass and splintered wood littered the floor. Draco sat slumped against the wall, his death eater robes hanging loosely on his frame. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, his face buried in his hands. His breath came in ragged gasps, his entire body wracked with tremors.
"Malfoy?" she called out tentatively, her voice echoing in the ravaged room.
He slowly lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. They were haunted, filled with a raw pain that pierced her heart. Blood streaked his pale face and platinum hair.
"Malfoy!" Her voice rose in alarm as she rushed towards him. "Are you bleeding?"
Her gaze fell upon his discarded Death Eater mask, lying on the floor amidst the debris. It too was smeared with blood, adding another layer of dread to the already disturbing scene.
"It's not mine," he rasped. The haunted look that had gripped her heart moments earlier was gone, replaced by a chilling emptiness. His eyes, once windows to his tormented soul, were now blank and unreadable.
His breathing steadied, the tremors gradually subsiding, but his shoulders remained slumped, his posture heavy with a weariness that seemed to seep into the very marrow of his bones. The transformation was both swift and disconcerting, leaving her with an uneasy sense of having lost him to some dark, internal abyss. He was occluding.
“I killed a child tonight.” His voice, devoid of any inflection, was a monotone drone, as if the words were being spoken by a machine rather than a living being. “I tried to make it painless, but…”
A subtle tremor began to creep back into his hands, a silent betrayal of the turmoil raging beneath his carefully constructed facade. His gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable or unwilling to meet her eyes.
Unable to bear the weight of the moment any longer, she reached out and gently took his bloodied hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. His skin was shockingly cold. As she held his hand, she noticed tiny shards of glass embedded in his palm. Her heart ached for him, for the pain he was clearly carrying.
"Come on," she urged softly.
With utmost care, she tugged at his hand, mindful of the sharp glass shards embedded in his palm."Let's get you cleaned up," she added.
With a gentle tug, she guided him into the luxurious ensuite bathroom, the door closing softly behind them, creating a sanctuary from the chaos that lingered on the other side. Draco remained unmoving, his vacant gaze fixed upon her. His legs trembled though, threatening to buckle beneath him.
She gestured towards a plush seat near the shower. He obeyed, sinking into the cushions as if all his energy had been drained. With a practiced touch, she began tending to his wounded hand. Her movements were delicate yet efficient, deftly extracting each tiny shard of glass and vanishing them into oblivion. Draco remained impassive throughout the process, his face a mask of stoic indifference. Not a flinch, not a wince betrayed the pain he must have been experiencing. He was a hollow shell, his spirit seemingly adrift in a sea of despair.
Once she had meticulously removed every shard of glass, she beckoned him to stand, her movements deliberate and gentle. With a quiet reverence, she began to unfasten his blood-stained robes, carefully peeling away each layer until he stood before her, his lean frame nearly bare.
She reached into the spacious shower, her fingers deftly adjusting the water flow. She waited patiently, gauging the temperature until it reached a soothing warmth. Then, with a gentle nudge, she guided him into the cascading water.
The shower was huge, its sheer size dwarfing Draco. He stood motionless, his forehead pressed against the cool tiles, the water running over his bowed head. His black shorts, the only remaining piece of clothing, clung damply to his hips.
He made no move to clean the blood from his body, his stillness mirroring the emptiness in his eyes. Hermione, her heart aching with a mixture of pity and concern, retrieved a soft cloth from a nearby cabinet. She stepped gingerly into the shower, the warm water enveloping her in its embrace and soaking her clothes. With infinite care, she began to wash his back, the cloth tracing gentle circles across his skin, removing the physical remnants of his pain.
When his back was clean, she turned him gently to face her, her touch feather-light against his skin. With the same meticulous care, she began washing his face, the cloth tracing the contours of his cheekbones and jawline. She thought she saw tears mingling with the water streaming down his face, but it was impossible to discern amidst the shower's cascade.
Once the blood was washed away, revealing his pale, drawn features, she led him out of the shower, his body shivering slightly from the cold air. Wrapping him in a fluffy towel as if he were a child, she guided him towards his bed. A fleeting thought crossed her mind to remove his wet shorts, but she decided against it. Instead, she helped him settle onto the mattress, pulling the covers up to his shoulders, enveloping him in warmth.
Crouching beside the bed, she reached out and tenderly stroked his face, her fingers tracing the lines etched by pain and exhaustion. His features contorted, a silent cry trapped behind tightly clenched lips. It was a heartbreaking sight, one that tore at her very core.
She continued to soothe him, her fingers gently massaging his temples and forehead, coaxing away the tension that clung to him. Gradually, his eyelids fluttered, succumbing to the comforting touch and the exhaustion that weighed heavily upon him. His breathing deepened, and the lines of pain on his face softened.
She remained by his side for a long time. Once she was certain that sleep had claimed him completely, she rose silently, her movements barely disturbing the stillness of the room. With a final, lingering glance at him, she turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
***
The following morning, bathed in the soft light streaming through the library's grand windows, Hermione sat curled up in her favorite armchair, engrossed in Shakespeare. The pages rustled beneath her fingertips as she turned them, the world of Romeo and Juliet unfolding before her eyes.
The rhythmic tapping of footsteps on the polished wooden floor interrupted her. She looked up to see Draco approaching. His features were smoother, less haunted, suggesting a night of restful sleep. Yet, the telltale signs of his inner turmoil remained - faint shadows lingered beneath his eyes, and he looked a bit more pale than usual.
"Can I take you somewhere today?" he inquired, his voice surprisingly gentle.
"Sure," she replied without hesitation, her curiosity piqued.
They made a quick detour to her room to gather her things and then made their way to the nearest floo.
As they approached the familiar hearth, Draco reached out, his fingers intertwining with hers in a gesture that was both comforting and reassuring. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Château de la Serpentine," Draco announced, his voice clear and resonant, as they stepped into the emerald flames. The world around them dissolved into a swirling vortex of green, carrying them away to their destination.
Suddenly, she found herself in an unfamiliar, yet undeniably opulent sitting room. Sunlight poured through the tall, arched windows, casting an ethereal glow on the gleaming floors and highlighting the exquisite craftsmanship of the room.
Plush sofas and armchairs, upholstered in fabrics of velvet and silk, beckoned them to sink. Crystal chandeliers, suspended from the lofty ceilings like frozen waterfalls of light, refracted the sunlight into a thousand shimmering rainbows, dancing upon the vibrant hues of the expansive Persian rugs that adorned the floor.
The air was infused with the delicate fragrance of freshly cut flowers, their colorful blooms arranged artfully in crystal vases throughout the room.
Draco, a subtle smile playing on his lips, led her towards a set of glass doors that opened onto a breathtaking vista. As they stepped outside, a gasp escaped her lips. Before them stretched a panorama of rolling hills, their slopes blanketed in a patchwork of vineyards that shimmered under the sun's golden rays.
The afternoon unfolded in a leisurely exploration of the sprawling estate. They climbed the sun-kissed hills, reveling in the panoramic views of the French countryside. Lush green valleys, dotted with quaint villages and ancient chateaus, stretched out before them.
They paused often, plucking ripe grapes from the vines and savoring their sweetness, the juice staining their fingers a deep purple. The sun warmed their skin, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and ripening fruit.
As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, painting the sky pink, they made their way back towards the chateau. Their path led them past a charming stone building nestled amidst the largest vineyard. Draco paused, his gaze drawn to the weathered wooden door. He disappeared inside, emerging moments later with a bottle of red wine in hand. The label, adorned with the Malfoy family crest, looked quite old.
A flurry of fuzzy seeds swirled around them, carried by a playful breeze. Hermione, unfamiliar with the delicate white fluff, watched as they danced in the air, catching the sunlight like miniature snowflakes. The air seemed alive with them, a whimsical spectacle that transformed the vineyard into a scene from a dream.
She glanced at Draco, only to find him transformed as well. His normally sleek hair and eyelashes were now covered with the fluffy seeds, giving him an almost comical appearance. As their eyes met, his face erupted into a full-bodied, barking laugh. The sound was infectious, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his smile wide and unguarded. Hermione was momentarily stunned. She had never seen him laugh with such abandon, such pure joy. It illuminated his features, revealing a warmth and beauty that she had never seen before.
The spell was broken when she realized he was laughing at her. Self-consciously, she touched her face, then ran her fingers through her hair, finding it filled with the fluffy seeds. She was sure she resembled a white, curly-haired poodle. But in that moment, she didn't care. Draco's laughter was so contagious that she couldn't help but join in, her own laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.
Through her giggles, she attempted to tie her hair back, but her stomach ached from the exertion. "It's not surprising my hair would attract these ," she managed to say between fits of laughter. "It's always gathering sticks and branches as if it had a mind of its own. Such a bird's nest."
Draco stepped closer, his smile softening. He reached out, gently tucking a stray, seed-covered strand of hair behind her ear.
"I love your hair," he said simply, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.
***
They strolled through the enchanting gardens, their footsteps muffled by the soft grass, until they reached the picturesque open-air kitchen nestled among the flowers. The kitchen, with its rustic charm and sun-drenched countertops, seemed to beckon them closer.
Draco, with a newfound purpose, began to pull out an assortment of pots, pans, and mysterious ingredients from the well-stocked pantry. Hermione, her curiosity piqued, watched him with an amused smile.
"What are you doing?" she asked playfully.
"I am going to make us some food," he declared, "there aren't any elves residing here, you know."
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You can cook?" she asked, unable to mask the disbelief in her voice.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I haven't before, but how hard can it be?" he replied with a hint of arrogance.
Twenty minutes later, the kitchen was in utter chaos. Hermione perched on the kitchen island, a glass of wine in hand, tears of laughter streaming down her face. On the stovetop, Draco battled valiantly against a pan of flaming cheese toasties, his expression a comical blend of frustration and determination.
Finally, having subdued the fiery bread, he turned to glare at her playfully, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Perhaps," he conceded with a sheepish grin, "we will go out for dinner."
His hair, usually meticulously styled, was now tousled and fell over his eyes, adding to his endearingly disheveled appearance. She felt a flutter in her stomach as he flashed her a crooked smile.
Tension filled the air, a shift in the atmosphere as she watched Draco cross the room towards her. He stopped between her legs, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. His fingers, gentle and deliberate, brushed away the lingering fuzz from her hair, a soft smile gracing his lips.
The intimacy of the moment, his closeness, and the tenderness in his eyes, ignited something within her. A wave of impulsiveness washed over her, and before she could second-guess herself, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
His eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. But then, his surprise melted into something more desperate. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.
Their kiss turned frantic and she ached for him to touch her again. As if reading her mind, Draco grabbed her skirt and pushed it up her thighs. He squeezed the flesh of her thighs roughly and she gasped in response. He began trailing his fingers up and down her thighs and she knew he could feel her trembling. She ran her hands up over his collar and neck and into his already messy hair. She dug her fingers into his scalp and he moaned in response, deepening their kiss. He began kissing down her neck while simultaneously unbuttoning her blouse before he peeled it off of her. He kissed down her chest and roughly pulled her thin bralette down, exposing her breasts.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
He licked his lips, and his head dipped down, his mouth covering her nipple. Her whole body pulsed and she panted at the sensation. She arched her back as he gently guided her body down to the counter. She felt his erection digging into her center and she ground into him in the attempt to release some of the tension.
He flicked his tongue over her nipple and her thoughts went completely blank.
His fingers slid against her knickers and she gasped loudly, making him chuckle.
“So wet for me.” He breathed as he rubbed his fingers against her.
He parted her legs wider and then slid his hand into her knickers.
“Fuck.” He hissed.
Her body was on fire, she was unable to do anything except dig her fingers into his back. She felt his hand move and then he slid a finger inside of her and she let out a low moan in response. He pumped it slowly, in and out of her a few times as she clung to his back, feeling the muscles move under his shirt.
He leaned back to watch her face and he continued to move his finger inside of her.
“You’re fucking perfect.” He murmured under his breath as he sucked on one breast and then the other.
She let out a cry as he began to circle his thumb against the bud of nerves that she had desperately wanted him to touch.
“Malfoy…” She moaned softly as she bit down on his shoulder. Her stomach clenched so hard it hurt. Sparks of pleasure were reaching her head now and she was letting out gasping moans with almost every breath.
He slipped his fingers around the edge of her knickers, sliding them down her legs, and tucking them into his back pocket.
He kissed down her chest, lower and lower until she shivered with need. His lips pressed against the delicate skin just below her belly button. She felt like if he stopped, she might combust into flames. His mouth dipped lower and lower, using his lips and tongue to drag down her skin, tasting every inch of her.
She spread her legs further on instinct, her palms pressed hard against the counter top now.
“I’ve waited so long for this.” He whispered as his lips finally pressed against her clit. Her body lifted from the counter in response, but he held her in place, placing both of her legs on his shoulders.
First he kissed her like it was her mouth, then he gave a firm swipe of his tongue. Her fingers flew to his hair, curling into it.
She lost grasp of reality, her hips rolling against his tongue as he licked her. She felt like she was about to fall over the edge when he dipped his finger inside of her, continuing to stroke the sensitive spot with his tongue simultaneously.
“I want to see how pretty you cum. Let me taste it.” He said between licks.
He slipped another finger inside of her and curled his fingers. She let out a frantic cry. She was so close. She ground her hips into his face, a scream catching in her throat as her orgasm bloomed up from between her legs. She shook violently as she fell over the edge, her body bucking against him as she rode it out. Once her tremors had subsided, Draco stood. She gasped for breath, her cheeks flushed as she stared up at him through half closed lids.
He brushed his thumb over her cheek and kissed her softly. She wanted to return the favor, wanted to make him feel as good as he had made her feel. She reached for the buckle of his pants but gentle hands stopped her.
“Don’t you want me to…” She asked tentatively.
“Trust me, there is nothing I want more..but I think we should get you some real food first.”
Strong arms lifted her from the counter and she giggled as he carried her out of the kitchen.
****
Several days had slipped by since their visit to the chateau, and Hermione found her thoughts ceaselessly drifting back to Draco. Every stolen glance, every shared moment of training, every chance encounter in the dimly lit hallways - she missed them all desperately. The Dark Lord's relentless demands had kept him occupied, leaving her to grapple with a gnawing sense of loneliness. Arys was due to return in the morning, and she yearned to hear the tales of his journey, to find some distraction from the ache in her heart. In the meantime, she sought escape in the library, attempting to lose herself in the pages of countless books. But concentration proved elusive, her mind stubbornly returning to the image of Draco - his platinum blonde hair, piercing silver eyes, and the strong, reassuring touch of his hands.
When she returned to her room that evening, a wave of alarm washed over her. Dolly was frantically packing her belongings into a suitcase. Clothes and books were strewn about the room, as Dolly darted from one side to the other, her movements frantic.
"Dolly...what are you doing?" Hermione asked, her voice laced with worry.
"Oh miss Hermione, you must leave at once!!" Dolly exclaimed, her voice high-pitched and urgent.
"Dolly, what are you talking about?" She pressed, her fear mounting.
"The dark lord...he plans to...he is going to hurt Miss if she doesn't disappear."
Hermione's heart hammered in her chest, and her eyes fell upon the Daily Prophet lying open on her bed. The headline screamed at her:
The dark lord has finally initiated his long-rumored decree, all Mudbloods are to be stripped from their owners and institutions and will be exterminated by October the 15th.
Tears welled in her eyes as the news sank in. It was finally happening. Her worst fear had come true. October 15th was only a few days away.
"Miss Hermione! You must hurry!" Dolly yelled frantically, continuing to jam Hermione's suitcase with clothes.
"Dolly, please calm down," she said, kneeling before the distraught house-elf. "I promise everything will be okay, Arys and I have planned for this. I will make it out on time."
Dolly stared at her, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Oh Dolly, please don't cry. Everything will be alright." She reassured her, though her own heart was heavy with dread.
To avoid capture, Hermione would leave with Arys when he returned in the morning. They would make their journey to New York a year earlier than expected, Arys had promised her as much. But before she disappeared from his life forever, she needed to see Draco one last time. Tonight, she would go to him, to say a final goodbye.