Touch Starved

It was usually the same string of memories every time she had a nightmare. Being submerged in the murky and callous lake during the Triwizard tournament, obliviating her parents, Bellatrix cutting her open, Harry dying, and it always ended with her being lost and no one could hear her calling out for help.

She would love to say it had been no different last night, but considering how she had woken everyone up by screaming until her throat was raw, it was entirely different. Instead of being lost where no one could hear her, she was instead crying and pleading to every single person in the room with her. All of which fell on deaf ears as they watched a wizard walk to the solitary chair in the middle of the room. The wizard that was about to receive the kiss of death for just simply existing, the one with white-blonde hair and stormy eyes, the one that looked right at her after he sat down to accept his fate as if he was the only one who could hear or see her.  

Tears streamed down her face as Pansy rubbed her back while Ginny sat in front of her holding her hands.

“He was going to die.” She half whispered half croaked.

“Hush now.” Ginny soothed. “He’s alive and well, we just received the owl from him yesterday.” Hermione continued to stare straight ahead. “The war is over, Hermione. He’s safe, we’re safe.”

But he isn’t. Her body shook and Susan placed a hand on her shoulder, a fabricated sense of calm blanketed her. She drifted back to sleep trying to understand the déjà vu she had gotten when speaking with Blaise about Draco’s power, dissecting the parallels between ‘The Chosen One’ and the boy from her nightmare, and playing the moment he looked at her on a loop.

Hermione drifted through the day in a cloud of exhaustion. A familiar feeling as it’s how she spent her summer when the nightmares had been at their worst. Only this time she wasn’t alone and had people that ushered her to and from and also handed her things to eat periodically. She didn’t see Draco until later that night in the common room, or at least she didn’t recall seeing him throughout the day but he very well could’ve been there while she was lost in her own mind. He strolled in and sat down in his chair, locking eyes with her once he settled making her breath catch. It was the same exact look from her nightmare. Piercing yet unchallenging. As if he was extracting all of her thoughts and placing his own presence there at the same time.

“I think I’m going to go get a sleeping draught from Madam Pomfrey.” She announced rather hoarsely as she stood from her bench.

“One of the boys can whip one up here.” Pansy supplied lifting her head to look at the three whose services she just offered.

“No, no, it’s okay. I fancy a walk.”

“Want me to come with?” Ginny asked from her spot between Theo and Blaise on the couch.

She shook her head. She hadn’t been left alone in too long, she needed some time to herself.

“I’ll be back in a bit. I promise.” She took a few steps before pausing and looking over her shoulder at Blaise. “Please don’t follow me.”

His eyebrows furrowed before giving her a nod.

“You know, sometimes I forget how smart she is.”

She could hear Theo’s humor filled voice as she exited through the mirror.

The hallways were quiet and peaceful. Full of shadowed portrait frames that contained their slumbering occupants. And even though the walls had been mended, she let her fingers trail against a spot she knew had been blown open during the war. She wandered for a while without any set direction, just following her feet where they took her, fully allowing her mind to drift and recalibrate. She eventually got the potion she needed and was making her way back to the common room when she reached the mostly unused Prefect bathroom door.

Hermione extended her arm to push it open, biting her lip as she contemplated actually entering. After a few minutes of hovering in front of the door she pressed against the wood and stepped inside. The room was as empty as the bath that was situated in the floor. She sighed. Whether it was in relief or in defeat she was unsure.

She walked to the lip of the in-ground bath, looking down at the unfilled hole, thinking about how undaunting it looked whilst empty. Lowering herself down, she sat on the edge so that her legs were dangling inside. The bench on the inside of the tub rested just an inch out of reach from her feet, she shimmied so that she slipped off the lip and down to the bench, her heart thundered in her chest.

“I believe you’re supposed to turn the tap on before you get in.”

Hermione muffled a small scream with her hand, probably a good thing since the shriek would’ve sounded more like a dying animal with how raw her throat was.

“Apologies, Granger, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Didn’t you?” She countered.

Draco leaned against the wall by the door. “What do you mean by that.”

She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, put her hand over her heart and willed it calm down. When her eyes opened he was sitting beside her. “That is what I meant.” She said quietly while waving her hand in his direction. “You should’ve made a noise when you entered and when you somehow managed to sit beside me, but you didn’t.”

Draco hummed lowly. “Sorry, it was part of my… upbringing. It’s now a habit to move silently.”

Hermione didn’t respond, just nodded as she stared across the tub to where he sat when she was last here. The silence stretched on between them.

He broke first.

“Should I leave?”

“No, I should, I’m keeping you from your bath.”

“Is that not what you were planning on doing?”

Her chin went to her shoulder as she looked at him cautiously. “No… I don’t take baths.”

He frowned. “Odd. I would’ve pegged you for a bath girl… especially while reading.”

“My parents found them highly inefficient when I was younger and,” she swallowed and closed her eyes again, “and I have a slight aversion to being in water since the Triwizard tournament.”

“I see.” Draco shifted beside her, his leg brushing up against hers for just a moment. “Is that what your nightmares are about?”

Her eyes sprung open at his direct question. “Sometimes.” She admitted with a shiver.

Draco’s face seemed to tighten, the air around him somehow feeling darker. He slid off the bench coming to stand in front of her and offering his upturned hand. She had never seen him willingly welcome touch from anyone. In fact, he seemed to go out of his way to avoid being touched by anyone and everyone apart from when she placed her hand against him the previous day. She searched his eyes trying to decipher what he was asking, what he was going to do if she placed her hand in his.

Curiosity won. She set her fingers against his and did her best to ignore the goosebumps that ran up her legs and arms at the contact. He gently pulled her to her feet and then took two steps backward making her follow him to the center of the space.

Hermione glanced to the side nervously, the edge was now shoulder height and so far away.

“Do you think you could trust me?”

“What?” She asked, returning her focus to him.

“Just, trust me for a few minutes, yeah?”

“Okay.” Her whisper fell between them.

His strong fingers encircled her wrist, exactly how they had when he caught her from falling that first day. “Close your eyes.”

She obliged but pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Good,” a spark of something tickled her brain at his praise, “now, everything you’re about to feel is not real. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Say it back it me.”

“Everything that’s about to happen is not real.”

“Good.” Again the approval sent butterflies, but they were swiftly killed with his next sentence. “You’re going to feel water against your feet and ankles.” She did, luke warm water brushed against her skin as if she were walking on the beach just in reach of the waves crashing against the shore. “Breathe, Granger.” She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until he said something. “You’re going to feel it at your knees now.”

“Malfoy…” She panicked as it happened. Her stomach felt like it dropped out of her and she began sweating.

“Thighs.” He said as she started to dig her fingernails into his forearm.

The water didn’t progress for minutes, staying around her knees, waiting for her to adjust. The only problem was she wasn’t adjusting. Her heart rate was alarmingly high and the only way she knew this was because she could hear it pounding in her head.

“Hips.”

“Malfoy, I don’t… I can’t…”

“Breathe.”

She shook her head as the water began to rise above her navel. A small pained noise, sounding a lot like ‘Draco’, slipped out of her and the water was gone. Two hands cradled her face.

“It’s not real, Hermione, it’s not real.” Draco soothed as his thumbs swept against her cheekbones. “Open your eyes.”

He kept the gentle rubbing steady as she blinked a few times before focusing on him just a few inches in front of her face. His left hand remained where it was on her cheek while his right hand moved slowly down to her neck where his thumb settled over her pulse point.

Hermione tried to match Draco’s steady breathing. Inhaling when his chest rose and exhaling when it fell.

“How… What was that?”

“A form of legilimency.”

Her eyes rose to meet his. “You’re a legilimens?”

“Not exactly.”

“But you’re capable of it?” At his nod she continued. “How strong is your magic, exactly?”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. The thumb against her cheek made its way to the corner of her mouth before it caressed her bottom lip.

“Have you ever been kissed?” Draco’s question and drastic change of topic caught her off guard causing her to gasp, his finger continued stroking her now parted lips.

“I… Where is this coming from?” She returned against the pad of his thumb, trying her best to keep her newly steady pulse from skyrocketing again.

“Have you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She snapped, suddenly annoyed that he doubted her.

She went to pull away from him but the hand he had on her neck moved to cup the back of her head, keeping her from going anywhere.

“I don’t think you have.” He said lowly, moving his face close to hers so that his mouth was at her ear. “Because when you’ve been kissed, really kissed, you get a little taste of darkness, and it’s seductive. You’d do anything to keep it going or do it again.”

Well then by his standard, no, she hadn’t been kissed. A sense of longing bloomed deep within her, like how she felt when reading her book.

“There she is.” Draco cooed. “The unstoppable Hermione Granger. The Golden girl with fire in her veins.” His eyes sparkled as they drank her in, transforming her longing into a desperate want and need. “You get this look when you desire something, you know. It brings out the fierceness buried deep within you.”

Hermione was aware that he was telling her something, but she was focused on what he had said about being kissed and the way his lips moved.

“Where does it go?” He whispered. 

“Hmm?”

He chuckled. “Is there something you want, Granger?”

Her eyes bounced between his and his mouth before she nodded.

“What do you want?” Draco said as he leaned in closer, the air from his words hitting her lips. She tried to bridge the gap between them but he pulled back just enough where she couldn’t reach.

“Malfoy…”

“I’m going to need you to say it, pretty girl.”

“Draco…” She begged.

He closed his eyes and she could tell he was struggling to maintain control after she said his name. “Say it.”

She didn’t know why it was so hard to express what she wanted.

“Please!”

“Come on, Hermione, tell me.”

“Kiss me?”

“The same way you told that Ravenclaw he was worthless.”

“Kiss me.” She said as if she were casting a spell, sure and assertive.

Draco was on her in a heartbeat. One strong hand tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck and the other went to her waist. For as strong as he was, he was surprisingly gentle with her. The kiss, apart from the desperation with which he came at her, started like any other, yet it progressed into something so much more than she had ever experienced.

His lips coaxed hers open and when her tongue brushed against his she felt the darkness he had been talking about. It warmed her from the inside, like the first sip of fire-whiskey, and it made her feel drunk. It made her feel powerful. Hermione curled her fingers into his shirt trying to get closer, to get more. His mouth left hers and began trailing across her jaw and down her neck where he found and sucked on a spot that made her question ever being touched by anyone else.

“Mhmmm.” A throat cleared behind her.

She released his shirt and Draco’s head dropped to her shoulder as they both worked on catching their breath.

“Blaise.” Draco drawled with his face still buried against her, she didn’t miss the promised violence in his tone.

“Everyone is getting worried about Hermione.”

With a shaky exhale, Hermione took one step back. And then another. Each step she took made the warmth drain from her body but the fire he had ignited in her remained. She quickly climbed out of the bath. “Yes, I should get back. Goodnight.”

“Night, Granger, sleep well.” Blaise mumbled as she walked by him on the way to the door.

She was only one step outside when she heard Blaise go in on Draco.

“You’re playing with fire, Draco.” Blaise accused. “Wait." He paused, before Draco could say anything in return. "Muffliato.”

The familiar buzz tickled her ears and then died off effectively concealing the rest of the conversation from being heard. As interested as she was to hear what was being said about her, it was probably for the best that she didn’t if she was being honest.

She started her walk back to the common room, each step cementing what Draco had said. Her fingers went to her lips, she’d had a taste of the darkness and she'd been thoroughly seduced. She needed more.