Chapter 7
You had laid on the warm grass with Draco for what felt like minutes and a lifetime. Like the clock stopped ticking and it was just his heartbeat drumming quietly under your ear and the the sound of his breath in the other. Your mind played the last week like a movie in your mind. It made no sense to you that in such a short blip of time, your essentially muggle life with your mother was uprooted, moving from London, to a mansion with a family you had all but just learned of, and expected to treat them as family. To meet a woman your father was marrying in the same day that you were expected to live with her. To meet a boy who had fought in the greatest wizarding world, on the wrong side at that, to hate him so quickly, and give yourself to him a week later. None of it made sense. You couldn’t possibly wrap your head around it, and trying made you dizzy. You still battled yourself, desperate for your father to finally show pride in you, and accepting that he never would. Even bringing you to his new home was likely in a bid to finally have a daughter who might become even half the witch he wished you were.
It was only when the sun started to set and the sky turned a dreamy orange when you realised how long you had laid there with him, lost in your own thoughts. Seemingly noticing at the same time, he gently sat up, helping you to sit up at the same time.
“We should eat,” he simply said, holding his hand out to help you up. Your legs trembled and you felt sore and weak between your thighs and Draco laughed watching you steady yourself. Your cheeks reddened as you felt his eyes on you. You followed him back into the manor and into the kitchen. It was large, with a marble counter and pots that stirred themself and you realised you had never been in the kitchen before. Only ever in the dining hall.
He asked the house elf, who stood as tall as his hip for some fruit, and it was the first time you had seen the elf smile. It seemed odd to you that Draco could make a being you thought to be below him smile. Was he kind to him, unlike how you’d read his father treating them - or was he that scared of your step-brother that he would paint a smile just for him. They exchanged words and the elf magically summoned a glass bowl of fruit.
Draco took the bowl with a polite but casual “thank you” and you realised it was the first time you had heard anyone in the house thank him. The meals you had eaten, the cleaning you had seen him do, neither Narcissa, nor your father had thanked him once.
You half expected Draco to leave you there and disappear, but even after lying with Draco after he had taken your virginity, you weren’t ready to be alone. You followed him up the stairs, dreading him going to his room and you, yours - but when he got to his room and waited for you to follow him in, you sighed quietly to yourself in relief.
You had gone 18 years of your life knowing men weren’t to be relied on and a large part of you wasn’t ready to challenge that, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling In your chest, the longing that you had to be around him, that hope that he longed for you too, and respected you enough show it.
You stood awkwardly in the doorway, as you watched him sit down on his bed. The line between step-brother and something else entirely had blurred beyond comprehension in such a short time, and you had no experience with either one of those.
“Are you going to sit down or just stand there like a git?”.
You laughed awkwardly and sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. The cherries in the bowl looked like something out of the cartoons you watched growing up. Nicer than real food should look, you thought. You picked one up, popping it in your mouth. There had to be magic in these cherries, you were sure of it. You looked up when you realised you hadn’t asked to eat his food, and when you caught Draco gazing longingly at your stained red lips, his eyes darted away. Though you had seen his mask slip in real time, his walls were built back up in a second, his parted lips quickly closing into a tight line. It puzzled you how he could be so sweet and charming in the smallest ways, and so unrelenting in acting like he wasn’t. You supposed he didn’t know any better, or that he must have had some sort of reputation to maintain. He stiffened up beside you, so you decided to drop your train of thought. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to another person having access to your thoughts. They were the only thing that was ever yours. You had both been trapped by, and escaped into your thoughts your entire life, knowing that if you had nothing else, you had that. Now, your mind was taken from you and your body, you had given him.
He pulled you into him, back against his chest, and you had no choice or desire but to comply. You looked up at him, his jaw sharp and angular even from your angle as he looked down at you.
“Open your mouth,” he whispered, and though his voice was gentle, it was no less than a command and you did as he said, meeting his eyes as you did so. His long, slender fingers picked up a cherry and pushed it slowly into your mouth. Your plump lips closed around it, and he pulled it from the stem for you. The juice ran down the corner of your mouth and he caught it with his thumb, licking it off seductively. You were in awe and the anger you had felt toward him, though you hadn’t let it go entirely, lay hidden below layer upon layer of a new feeling. You had never understood, nor cared to understand your friends pining for the men in their lives. It never made sense to you the way they would talk about the little, unimportant things they would do. Though you had felt you were missing out on important milestones in your schooling years, it never appealed to you enough to chase it. A part of you may have even felt you didn’t deserve it - like it was something so out of reach it wasn’t worth longing for. Now, those little things made sense to you. The way his jaw would clench and it would send your stomach fluttering. His hands, oh his hands. You felt embarrassed that you’d notice them, and your imagination forever following close behind, but you didn’t know how to shut it off. How to avoid him peering in.
You let him feed you more cherries, smiling sheepishly as he watched you intently. Finally you spoke up,
“Thank you for the duel. You didn’t have to go so easy on me, but it got my mind off things I guess,”
“I wasn’t going as easy on you as I should have,” he seemed to be pained at his thoughts. His brow furrowed and you watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t..,” he trailed off deep in thought.
You realised how uncomfortable he was that he had thrown you.
“You didn’t hurt me Draco. I wanted to learn and I did.” Though you weren’t always sure of yourself in your magical abilities, you knew youhad learned what you did quickly, and you knew he was doing you a favour in teaching you. He didn’t even want to when Narcissa had suggested it. He frowned at your words and you knew he was holding back an argument.
“You did learn quickly. I’m sure you’ll be ready for school by the time the summer is over.”
You looked up at him, assuming you had misheard him but before you could ask him to repeat himself, he smiled and repeated himself.
“You’ll be ready for school when I’m done with you. You don’t think I’m going to let my Mother marry you into my family if you never attend Hogwarts.”
You couldn’t believe his words. You had barely learned a handful of spells and he was suggesting hogwarts? You hadn’t even thought you were young enough to attend. Before you could ask, he answered your question.
“Hogwarts offers 8th year, higher education. Since I was a prefect before the..before last year, I’ll be completing my studies there after the break. I’ll make sure you are offered the same.” He spoke so matter of factly, you almost missed the generosity of his offer. You had dreamed so often of what your life would have looked like had you been allowed to attend. You had fantasised about it almost every day since you had gotten your letter, and after you were told you would not be allowed to, you had held so much resentment toward your mother for it, and even your father for not sending you anyway. Now, you would potentially have a chance at attending and you couldn’t even begin to comprehend the offer he had so casually given you. All you could manage was a “Thank you”, words completely obliterated by shock and overwhelm.
“Don’t thank me. You should have never been stuck in muggle London. Your parents did you a great disservice, even if you’re a..half blood.” He pushed the word out like it tasted foul on his tongue. It stung like the first time he had called you a mudblood, but you were in too much shock for it to bubble under your skin like it had before. He was right. Though you assumed he was disgusted that a witch had deprived their child of an education rather than care how you felt about it, it was reassuring to hear it from someone else.
“Did you know Narcissa was marrying my father before we moved in?” You asked. Though it must have seemed out of nowhere to him, you had been brewing on the question since you had met him. It seemed to you, that you were always last to know about anything your family did. Though you were both only children, it was obvious that you had very different experiences as such. He was the man of the house and you, an afterthought.
He thought for a moment, studying your face before finally answering.
“Yes. I knew. I knew who you were before you stepped into my home,” he answered coldly and you knew he was referring to your “impure” blood.
You didn’t know how to respond, nodding your head instead.
“I’m guessing I knew they were marrying well before you knew we existed too,” he added and your heart sunk. He was probably right, and him drawing that conclusion so easily didn’t help. Of course he did - you envied what he and his mother had.
“My father was barely in the ground before that was decided,” he spat and you were snapped out of your thoughts at his sudden admission. A rare snippet of his thoughts of his late father, and how he felt about the engagement. He lifted you up like you weighed nothing before you could even think to reply, and tossed you back into his bed, moving you out of his way like a light object. He stood up, moving toward a cabinet gracefully. You watched his large hands wrap around a bottle on the shelf. He pulled the top off with his teeth and took a swig. He hissed out a breath after gulping it down, and offered the bottle to you. You had tried a few drinks in high school, but had never drank anything out of the bottle, so you shook your head no.
“I’m having a friend over tomorrow,” he started. “You better have some then. It’ll get your mind off things,” he offered. You wondered if he was the friend you had heard his mother fussing about. You felt nervous at the thought of meeting them. Would they feel the same way about half bloods, or someone who didn’t go to Hogwarts when them? You decided you would likely avoid it all together and just stay in your room.
You thanked Draco again for the lesson, and left to shower the day off you. As the hot water covered you, your soapy hands roamed your body, reminding you of the way Draco’s had earlier that day. You looked down at your body and noticed small bruises that had already started to form on your hips, and you couldn’t help the blush heat your cheeks. You were horrified in your naive and prudish mind when your friends would brag about bruises and hickeys that boys would leave them with, but realising you had been marked by Draco in such a wanton and animalistic way drove you wild - Like a hint to a secret your body kept with his.