“Granger,” his voice low.
“Granger, I need you.”
“God dammit Granger, please come to me.”
He sounded wounded, his voice raspy coming out in a growl. Everything in her body wanted her to run to him, but she didn’t. Hermione was pacing back and forth in the kitchen doing her best to ignore the voice filling her ears. The entire Order watched her, waiting for her to say something. Her eyes however, stayed glued to the ground, looking at all the dirt that was caked onto her shoes. She kept running her pointer fingers over her thumb nail and then down across her cuticles.
Everyone had been arguing for hours about who should share a room with Malfoy. He needed to be on a 24/7 watch. Which nobody wanted to do and those few who did just wanted to beat him into a pulp. Hermione on the other hand needed to see him, something deep inside her called for him. There was a strong sense of want that sat in the pit of her stomach.
Pieces of her had longed for him since she knew he was brought into the house. She could hear his cries for her ringing through her head. Hermione found herself sitting outside his room often but she could never get close to his door. The wards around it burned her hand when she reached for the door knob leaving her skin red. So instead, she would lean against the wall and just talk to him. She didn’t know if he could hear her, but the closer she got the quieter his voice became and the slower his heart would beat.
“I will share with Malfoy.” Hermione said as she came to a stop in front of the window. She watched the rain fall. The sky lit up with lightning and the walls shook from the thunder.
“Hermione, have you gone mad?” Ron said, standing abruptly, knocking his chair backwards causing the room to jump. Harry looked between his best friends, keeping his arm wrapped tightly around Ginny.
“You really want to share a room with that psychopath?” Ron shouted.
Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to face them, giving a long sigh. She dragged her hands through her curls and then down her face. The exhaustion was starting to get to her. She had barely slept in weeks. Being a healer was taking a toll, but hearing Malfoy cry for her every night since he had arrived was taking a bigger one.
“First off,” she snapped, putting her palms on the table and leaning into her wrists. “I will be the one to share the room. You and Harry can’t be trusted with Malfoy. Someone would leave with a broken bone or in a body bag. And nobody else wants to do it.”
Harry raised his finger to make a point and Hermione shot him a look that could kill the Dark Lord himself. Small whispers filled the heavy space of people agreeing with her. Harry and Ron shut their mouths and their eyes bounced between each other and her. They knew she was right. And Hermione knew that she had no other way to figure out why she felt the way she did. Why at the mere thought of Malfoy her hands would grow clammy and her stomach would flip upside down. She wanted to know why she could hear him and if he could hear her. So many questions rolled around her head. She needed answers, and this was the only way to get them.
Kingsley cleared his throat and everyone turned to look at the man. The sound pulled Hermione’s attention back to the room. He stood, gently pushing his chair back. His fingertips rested on the edge of the table. The room grew quiet, you could only hear the soft pitter patter of the rain on the house.
“Miss Granger, I agree that you are the best for this task. We need information from him, so do as you must. You are treading in uncharted waters, tread lightly.” Kingsley raised his hand and dismissed her.
Hermione turned to look at her two best friends who were burning glares into her skin. Giving them her best swotty smile she turned on her heel and began walking down the hall. Ignoring the shouting that erupted behind her. Glass was shattering against walls, chairs were being flipped. She peeked over her shoulder to see the door closing and Lupin stepping out after her, walking in sync with her down the hall. The floorboards creaked under their weight and she could feel the house shift against the wind. Lupin reached out and touched her shoulder, stopping her in the middle of the hallway.
“Hermione,” he started, his voice low, “What you are walking into is not what you are expecting. Be careful. When we brought him in, he was not himself. He was barely human.”
Hermione looked at her dear professor furrowing her brows and tilting her head. What exactly did he mean? Not human? He sounded human in her head. Her eyes darted across Lupin's face trying to read in-between the lines. His cheeks were sunken in from the full moon approaching and all the color from his skin had drained. Those brown eyes were tired yet still warm. She knew that he had her best interest in mind, she reached out and touched his arm giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I will be safe.”
She gave him a small smile before making her way down towards the locked door at the end of the hallway.
“Hermione, he is here for you. He is not on our side, he is on yours.” Lupin added before turning back to join the others.
When the door opened she looked over her shoulder and saw the chaos that had exploded shortly after her exit. Harry and Ron were shouting at Kingsley. Sirius and Molly were in each other's faces. Turning back towards the hallway she played her old professor's words in her head over and over. She broke them apart and put them together again to see if they would make more sense.
Here for me?
Does this have anything to do with the connection I feel for him?
Shaking her head she continued onwards. The further she moved down the long hallway the quieter the house felt. Grimmauld Place had become a shell. The war was tearing it apart, similarly to how it was tearing the Order apart. Each of them were missing pieces, some of them had broken windows and a door off its hinges. But some went deeper. Some had foundations that were falling apart, walls that had been ripped open. They were all becoming shells of people.
She knew that if Malfoy was here for her then he would help the Order. They were in need of his help. After losing the most recent battle that caused Snape to lose his life, they were running out of options. They needed a new spy. The thought of Malfoy being a spy stirred something in Hermione. She felt protective over him, like no one was allowed to touch him. She dismissed the feelings of just being a healer. She needed him, and that meant keeping him alive. But, in the back of Hermione's mind she knew that this was deeper. There was a bond between them. A long silver rope wrapped around her heart that pulled her to him.
Hermione became aware that she was holding her breath as her thoughts wreaked havoc in her head. Her hands had begun to shake with every step. No one had seen him since he was brought here. People who caught a glimpse of him whispered that he was in bad shape. But, he had stayed locked away. Lupin and Kingsley had heavily warded the door so no one could get in or out.
She and everyone else had no clue what was behind that door. She has no idea what shape he could be in. Would he attack her the second she walked through the door? Probably not but, the fear still festered in her gut. Approaching the door her ears started to ring, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Saliva started to pool in her mouth and bile burnt the back of her throat. She thought she was going to be sick. Her heart stilled for a moment as she clutched her chest. Her entire torso had started to feel hot, like it was burning.
She reached for the door handle and felt her magic spark at her fingertips. Buzzing throughout her body and dancing under her skin. The wards had been modified to accept her. She hesitated for a moment, her body never felt magic like this before. It was strong. She felt like she could use it with a snap of her fingers. Her heart started beating louder and louder with each passing moment, she could feel it flutter at her pressure point in her neck.
“Granger,” the voice was low and strained. She could barely hear it as she pushed the door open. Taking a step in she felt the room vibrate under the magic that was trapped inside. The space had been destroyed. There were scratch marks down the wallpaper and the furniture had been thrown across the room. A mirror that sat against the wall had been shattered, leaving the broken glass on the floor.
“Malfoy?” She whispered, looking for any sign of him in the room. Reaching her hand out to turn on the light switch, she froze, noticing his body slumped against a corner of the room. She began to move slowly towards him. His breathing was ragged and he could barely lift his head. The closer she got the more of his body she saw.
He had two large white wings hanging from his back like a cloak. Parts of them were dripping red onto the floor and the skin where they came out was ripped apart. Blood was spilling down his back. The white of his eyes were bloodshot and the bags under his eyes were a dark blue against his porcelain skin. He was beaten and bloody, with deep knife wounds across his torso. His silver eyes flicked up to meet hers. Draco tried to push himself up onto his knees. Hermione reached her hand out, she wanted to touch him. Something deep inside her craved to be closer to him. A part of her wanted to run her fingers across his wings, she imagined how they would feel. He noticed her hand and tried to sink deeper into the wall, cowering from her touch.
Getting onto his knees took all of his strength, his eyes rolled back and as he fell forward Hermione jumped forward to catch him. Feeling his weight in her arms made her breath hitch. She held him close to her chest as his head lolled back.
“Malfoy?” She said, pushing his blonde hair from his face.
She watched as the feathers began to shrink back into his body and the wounds on his chest slowly started stitching themselves together. His wings still hung from his back but they had started to heal what wounds they had on them. Pulling an arm out from underneath him, she rested her fingers gently on his chest. Dragging them down, she felt her mouth start to water. She craved him. The magic in the room stilled and started to settle against the space around them.
Her hand moved back up to support his head, resting softly on the nape of his neck. Her thumb drew small circles against his throat. He was warm and soft. Now that he was losing his feathers he started to look more like the Malfoy she knew. His jaw was still sharp, his nose still Slavic. His hands still were long and elegant with the Malfoy signet ring on his ring finger.
Hermione sat there for a moment holding onto him. She had questions running rampant in her head, but her voice failed her. Not a sound would come out, she opened and closed her mouth a few times before deciding to stick to being silent.
He raised his head, those silver eyes staring deep into her amber ones. His body was still weak, but he reached out gently and pushed a chocolate curl behind her ear. Resting his hand on her cheek he pulled her closer.
“You came.” He whispered.
“You called.” She responded.
“I tried to stay away. I needed to stay away.” He said rubbing his thumb across her skin. “But, I could not. I needed to be around you. I needed to feel you.” his hand slid back to the nape of her neck pulling her inches from his face.
“You smell so good.” He groaned, leaning his forehead against hers. His jaw was set but his eyes were burning with passion. Hermione felt a heat rise in her stomach, her heart stopped. Malfoy moved forward pulling their lips together. Fireworks erupted around them. It felt like this was where she was meant to be. Her heart called out for him and he answered. Hermione begged him to get closer. She needed him closer. Malfoy adjusted so he was sitting fully up but kept their lips together. Hermione's hands began to explore his body. Running up and down his chest, up his neck and through his blonde hair. He wrapped an arm around her waist molding their bodies into one. Piece by piece Hermione felt the silver rope wrap tighter around her heart as it extended out and wrapped around his. It pulled them together. In this moment there was nothing else that existed. It was just her and him and the stars in the sky.
The voice in Hermione’s head screamed at her to stop but she was so consumed by the moment, consumed by the very being wrapped around her. She threw her leg over him, straddling him. Draco let out a breathy moan into her mouth. She hadn’t been able to breathe in so long, he was a breath of fresh air.
Her mind was confused but her heart longed for him. She felt betrayed. But, feeling Malfoy’s tongue explore her mouth she succumbed to him. Her body didn’t want to fight him. The way he felt was going to be forever ingrained in her memory. He was strong and solid. His hands were soft and gentle but rough when they needed to be. Draco knew every spot that made her weak, he nipped at the spot below her ear and dragged his tongue down her neck before peppering kisses along her collar bone.
Hermione's head fell to the side, giving him more access to her. She could feel his teeth slide across her skin before biting down on her shoulder. A gasp escaped her lips. His teeth had gone deep into her skin. As he pulled away she looked to see that there was blood coming to the surface. Draco brought his hand to her chin and pulled her face to his.
In a low growl he said, “You are mine. You belong to me.”
Kissing her deeply once more they pulled apart and rested their foreheads together. Their hot breath bouncing off of each other. Hermione could feel the wetness between her thighs. She closed her eyes and leaned into Draco, taking deep breaths to calm her pounding heart.
Sirius shoved Harry down into a chair. Resting his hand on his shoulder, trying his hardest to calm down his god son. Lupin stood between Ron and Kingsley. Ron had attempted to throw a few punches at Kingsley but was quickly interjected by Lupin.
His eyes turned to ice as he stared down the head Order member. Ron’s pupils grew three times their size out of anger. The room around him could feel it seep out of him, his magic sparking around him.
“I can’t believe you would let Hermione go with him!” Ron screamed at the top of his lungs.
A few plates against the wall had started shaking, Ron’s magic coming undone at the seams.
“Malfoy hates Hermione. He has always hated Hermione. And if he kills her-” He shoved Lupin out of the way and stood in front of Kingsley. Looking eye to eye, Ron sized up Kingsley. “-If he kills her, I will kill you.” Ron stood in the same place, refusing to step down. His nostril flared with the anger boiling inside of him. The plates shattered and fell to the floor.
“Ron.” Molly said calmly, “That is enough.”
Sirius stood , staying close to Harry but refusing to look away from Ron.
“We understand your frustrations Ron, however there are things about this situation that you do not understand.”
Taking a step back, Ron turned slowly and moved back to his seat. He threw himself down and slouched against the back of the chair. Crossing one ankle over his knee, he intertwined his fingers together in his lap.
“What exactly is there for me to understand? What am I missing, Sirius?” he snapped.
Sirius raised his hand and pressed his thumb and pointer finger on the bridge of his nose, rubbing slightly. He closed his eyes and sighed. When he had a moment to compose himself he dragged his fingers down the sides of his nose and across his facial hair. He raised his eyes to Lupin who was watching him intently.
“Tell them Remus.” he said
Everyone moved their eyes to Lupin, giving a small nod as he sat across from Ron and Harry, locking his hands together as he rested them on the table in front of him. Sirius sat next to him, leaning back and resting his arm on top of Lupin’s chair.
“There are things in this world that we do not understand, Ron, this just so happens to be one of them.”
Ron's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he scoffed.
“Draco Malfoy is important to our resistance, simply because of his loyalties to Hermione.”
Ron and Harry shifted in their seats, leaning forward. Hearing their childhood best friend's name with ‘loyalty’ and ‘Draco Malfoy’ all in the same sentence caused them each to feel a sudden urge to be protective. Harry had moved his hand to rest on his knee, bouncing it up and down. Anxiety filled him to the core. His eyes shifted to the side, making sure Ginny still sat next to him before flicking his eyes back to the men in front of him.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked several moments later.
Lupin adjusted and turned his head to look at Sirius.
He took a deep breath before facing them again, “Draco and Hermione are soul bonded. Draco is a fallen angel and his loyalty to Hermione may change the very course of this war.”
That sat in silence for several moments. Ron ran his hand across his chin feeling the stubble that had started to grow. He was grinding his teeth together,
“That doesn’t make sense. How could Draco be a fallen angel?”
“We don’t know. No one has heard of a fallen angel since decades before the sacred 28 came to light. But he is one, and he is tied to Hermione.”
It was Sirius’ turn to speak. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, before finding the courage to speak
“Draco and Hermione's bond creates one of the strongest combinations of magic. It makes them merely unstoppable. They will fight till the end for each other, regardless. If one of them dies, so does the other. A guardian angel and their twin flame will do anything to protect one another. They can feel each other's pain, physical and mental. They can talk to one another without murmuring a word.”
“They are strongest when together Ron.” Lupin added
Sirius watched Ron’s eyes move from side to side, like he was watching his very thoughts paint themselves out right in front of him. His hand rested on the table and he clenched and unclenched it into a fist over and over again.
Harry looked uneasy, his stomach tied itself into knots, and he could feel the bile rolling up his esophagus. Ginny reached out and took his hand, resting it between hers.
“What is a twin flame?” She asked, speaking for the first time. Her voice was low but her question came out strong.
Lupin and Sirius’ looked at the red headed girl. Lupin gave her a small smile
“A twin flame is the same soul split in two. It is said that when twin flames finally come together, the world will either know destruction or peace.”
“So what you are saying is that we are using Hermione as bait.” Ron asked before Ginny could even open her mouth again. She shot him a dirty look and leaned into her chair, still holding Harry’s hand, rubbing her thumb across the tops of them.
“Dick.” Ginny whispered, shifting her eyes away from the table.
Sirius and Lupin looked at each other, both sitting in the heavy silence that followed Ron’s words. They hung in the air around them, all you could hear was Ron's fingers tapping against the mahogany and the water from the faucet dripping into the sink.
“We are using their bond to win the war. We need them both to win against Voldemort. Draco is a Death Eater, one of the highest in the ranks. We need him on our side, and he could never betray us. Because betraying us means betraying Hermione.”
Harry and Ron sat there for several moments soaking up everything. Ron could feel that something was different about her. It had been weeks since they had even spoken a word to one another. She isolated herself, locking herself away from everyone. Everyone thought it was because the war was weighing down on her, she worked long hours at the hospital healing and saving as many as she could. But now he wonders if maybe she did it because she could feel Malfoy calling for her. If they were soul bound he would have felt her in the house. That would explain why she wasn’t sleeping. Why late at night he would find her asleep in the hallway outside Malfoy’s door.
Ron loved Hermione and he had thought that at the end of the war they would end up together. If she was soul bonded though, he had no choice but to watch her love another. Ron cared for Hermione with everything in him and that meant that he would do whatever he could to keep her safe. Including, allowing Malfoy to be a part of the Order. Even if the very thought of her falling into another's arms instead of his sent a stabbing pain through his chest, he would do it.
He squeezed his hand into a fist feeling his nails dig into the skin of his palm before reaching out and pouring a glass of firewhiskey. He swirled it in the cup a few times before staring down into the whirlpool.
“So mote it be.”