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This is a full-length story I started a while back and just recently returned to. I wrote a new chapter and everything so I decided to post all of them right now.
Title: This Too Shall Pass
Author: CharmedGirl36
Rating: M
Warnings: Strong Language (later chapters), Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Strong Violence (later), Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme, Contains Spoilers, Substance Abuse/Use (again a later warning)
Setting: Hogwarts
Pairings: Draco/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione
Summary: An affair. Something more dangerous and more heartbreaking than any growing darkness that could overcome them.
Disclaimer: I don't own it.
Longing
He sits alone at his table, watching, wishing he could sit with her and soak up the good times with her; but he can't. His friends are only temporary, they have no real meaning to him. They are nothing like her. They can't compare to her, can't compete with her kindness and graceful movement. His friends are sluggish, grimy. . .Slytherin.
Secretly he wishes he could be Ron Weasley for a day, if only to truly understand the meaning of family and love, but he will never get his wish. He will never have her, never touch her, never have her return his own feelings. It is impossible, and he knows it.
Maybe things would have been different had he not been so rude to her when they met, but he was different then. He was being controlled and had no real thoughts of his own. Things had changed now, slowly but surely. He understands how vain itis to only associate with other purebloods. It is an unecessary and completely stupid thing to do, not to mention it is childish.
He had changed but she would never know. She could never see the Draco behind the Malfoy. One day he will greet her with a 'Hello Hermione.' instead of a 'Go to hell, mudblood.' She won't understand that he is different, she will only remember him as the rude, smirking, pureblood Malfoy he used to be. Proud as he was, he will never be proud of his name again.
He longs for her prescence next to him. If only to have her smile at him in the hallway, he would be grateful for anything. Everytime he looks at her, he longs for her more and more. Then he can only think, she will never be his. She already belongs to Ron, for he was nice to her and was there for her; he always has been.
He is happy for her, happy that she can find her own happiness; but he also feels the sting of jealousy, because she is with Ron and not himself.
The enchanted ceiling above him swirls with grey clouds, as if emulating his feelings. He thinks maybe someday she will realize how much he truly cared for her. He wouldn't have bothered to torture her all these years if he didn't have some hidden feeling for her. As truly hurtful his words were, he realizes he always felt for her. Always hated the appearances he had to keep. He wears a mask for the world and no one ever sees the real Draco Malfoy.
Hermione Granger would never see the real Draco Malfoy and that hurts him the most. She would never love him as much as he loves her. They never were and never would be.
He feels a salty tear fall from one of his eyes. He turns away from the table, away from his view of her and wipes the tear away with his sleeve. The students file out of the great hall, he has to go to class now. He only ever sees her in one other class besides meal times. Perhaps, he muses, today may be the day when he finally says 'hello'. She may not take to well to the sudden change in his personality but he doesn't care.
On his way to class he bumps into her. He catches her scent as the two fall to the ground, one on top of the other. He wants to stay that way forever, but his friends are with him and he needs to keep up appearances, if only for his father's sake. For how much he hated the man, he was still his father and that would unfortunately never change.
He feels a smile start to form but he turns it around into the infamous Malfoy smirk. He stands but does not help her up, as much as he wants to. It pains him to do this, but he can't let the other Slytherins know his true feelings. Even if he doesn't care what they think. They might hurt her, and he couldn't have that. He is admired and knows how they would take to his sudden turn around.
So he silently prays for forgiveness as he picks up his books and watches with glaring and longing eyes as she does the same.
"Watch where you're going, mudblood. Next time I may not be so forgiving," He lies in what sounds spiteful but is really his jealously bottled up into one sentence.
He would always forgive her. In fact, he hopes, she falls onto him more often. Maybe one day, she would understand why he's done the things he's done. Maybe. . .it seems like a far away word, almost unreachable, almost.
He watches her leave in a huff as he walks with his "group". He feels a sting in his heart for causing her pain. He hates himself, but he loves her. He always would.
Desiring
She patiently sits at her desk in the front of the classroom. She takes notes so she can remember everything she’s learned for the day. Always the bookworm, always the brains in a situation, she accepts that titles and actually enjoys it. She scribbles another note down and feels eyes on her.
The eyes she knows are staring her down, she doesn’t want to look back and face the silent stare she is getting. She doesn’t want to know who the eyes belong to. She has a good thing with Ron and doesn’t want to ruin it, even though a simple glance backwards could do little to ruin a well established relationship.
Before she gives in to the desire to look behind her, she drops her pencil and needs to pick it up. This seems to be the perfect ploy, even if it was a complete accident. She stands from her seat and turns around to lean down and pick up her pencil. When she looks up her eyes meet the ones that were staring at her.
She wants to shout some foul swear word, wants to scream something awful at the one staring. She wants to tell him to leave her alone and stop tormenting her. She wants to tell him to stop occupying her thoughts, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t tell Draco Malfoy to stop staring at her because some small part of her wants him to keep staring and enjoys the attention.
His glare was so full of need, so full of raw want that she understands without saying a word to him. She understands wanting someone you cannot have, for she wants him just as badly as he wants her. If only for one night, just so she can shed the image she built for herself and he can shed his own. They could be each other’s salvation; in one momentous moment when they are one and belong to the one they secretly desire the most.
She pretends to pay attention to the teacher, but her thoughts are someplace else. She feels the staring continue but it doesn’t bother her so much now. She enjoys the attention he is giving her, even if it is a little unnerving to those around him or her. They just don’t understand how the two have affected each other’s lives.
She writes a note to herself, a reminder if you will. She writes Ron’s name and encircles it with a heart. This little note to self to remind her who she belongs to and what she could never do. She could never cheat, never lie, as intriguing as it is to have a secret relationship, she cannot imagine hurting someone she cares for so much.
Yet, she enjoys being needed, being wanted. Ron is someone who would never express himself in a glance, something hidden deep within him that can be shown through one stare. Ron has had no real pain, at least not the emotional trauma she knows Draco has experienced. There aren’t so many layers to Ron as there is Draco.
She can’t even believe she is comparing the two, she writes another note to herself. This one tells her to stay calm and get over it. The person sitting next to her doesn’t notice the inner turmoil going through her mind. She finally comes to the calm before the storm and feels content in what her mind has come up with. She needs Ron but she needs Draco too, but she will only stay with one and that person is Ron Weasley. He is her friend, and maybe if Draco hadn’t been so harsh to her, things might have been different.
She realizes even if things had been different, they wouldn’t be the same. She wouldn’t feel so strongly for Draco if he hadn’t been the rude prat he always has been. She wouldn’t have fallen for the sarcastic remarks and domineering demeanor.
Hermione Granger isn’t bothered by the need Draco Malfoy has expressed to her, for she needs him too. In that one moment when their eyes interlocked, she felt a ripple throughout her body, something she never felt before. A searing desperation coursed through her spine and she just wanted to kiss him right then and there.
She attempts to focus on the teacher and sinks back into the lesson. Going back to her daily routine while she tries to block out the new thoughts that ravage her mind about the one called Draco Malfoy. Her enemy. Her desire.
Jealousy
The hallway, a lonely dark place where if you are alone, you know it and you feel it. The walls can so easily close in on you, merging with the darkness to suffocate your being.
He walks alone, down the hallway, late at night. He can not sleep, regardless if she is in the next room, he can’t sleep without her. He needs to feel her presence next to him, needs to be the presence beside her. The hallway is closing in on him, but he doesn’t care. His heart is already encased in the shadows of the school, though he knows he did that to himself.
Earlier in the day, he saw them and his heart burned with jealousy stronger than he had ever felt before. He really has no right to feel jealous, he knows that, he accepts that, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling jealous whenever he sees them together.
He could hurl himself off the roof of the school and end his misery, but what good does that do? He votes against it and walks onward throughout the school. He knows no one is around to catch him out of bed. Even if someone does see him, he can always lie and say he is patrolling, he is after all Head Boy.
He ends his walk through the darkness and heads back to the portrait where his dorm is located. The place he shares with her. It’s almost like a house that they own, though he knows it is anything but. Sometimes he likes to pretend, but that’s only when he is asleep, and sooner or later, dreaming ends.
He walks into the common room and sees her sitting by the fire. Her skin is alight with the flickers of the dying embers. For a minute, he loses his breath and he needs to fight for air. His eyes glimmer with the hope that one day, she might be his. He figures he needs something to keep the light inside of him alive, otherwise the darkness will consume him again.
“Draco,” She says his name with such malice, but there is something else in her tone of voice that he picks up on. A bitter but still wavering tone that lets him know she is scared of something. She’s scared of something she knows is true but can not accept. He knows the feeling and understands the tone better than ever, for he had used it before when tormenting her.
He gives her a nod of recognition and heads for the bathroom. He needs to run a shower for himself, even if it is a bit late. He hadn’t taken one all day, he had woken a little late and couldn’t manage one in the morning.
The warm water soothes his heart, if only for a little while.
She carries herself after him and watches him walk into the bathroom. She sighs and walks into her room. Changing into her pajamas, she wonders why things couldn’t be different.
She hears the bathroom door open and shut, and then hears another door open and shut. She exits her bedroom and heads back down to the common room, going to watch the fire a little bit more.
She sits on the couch and pulls her legs up to her chest. The pajama pants swish with the contact and she feels tears on the verge of falling, yet she doesn’t know why.
She unknowingly lets them fall and begins to weep for something she doesn’t yet comprehend. She hears footsteps behind her and wipes at her eyes furiously, hoping that he doesn’t see her tears.
“Are you alright?” He asks, seeing the redness in her eyes and understanding immediately that she had been crying.
“Why do you care?” She bites back at him, masking the leap in her pulse and the change in her voice at his concern.
“I don’t,” He tells her, sounding like a small boy denying he likes a girl.
“Then why did you ask?” She is standing across from him, a smile toying at her lips. She knows he cares; she feels her pulse quicken even more at the conversation.
He takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. He is closer to her, but not too close for anyone’s comfort.
“You were crying…I had to ask. It’s only polite but I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that,” He says to her, trying to cover up the fact that his heart rate has just jumped twice its normal rhythm.
“You were trying to be polite,” She says. She doesn’t believe that he could truly be civil to anyone but his own kind.
“Yes,” He admits, taking another step towards her.
The blood pounds in her ears as he is now close enough that she feels his breath upon her neck.
“Draco,” She says his name, this time not in spite but as more of a whisper to remind her who he is.
“Hermione,” He says in almost exactly the same tone she used.
He presses his lips hard upon hers, running a hand up to her neck. She returns the kiss with a passion neither one knew existed. His heart feels like it’s going to explode as she wraps her hands around his neck. He places an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him than was previously thought possible.
This is everything he has ever wanted and something she only needs to experience for her little experiment to be complete. She only wants to know what her true feelings for him are; she never intended it to lead to her not ending the kiss automatically.
She breaks off from him, feeling her breath come in pants. She pulls her hands off of him and he lets her go.
“I can’t,” She breathlessly whispers to him, “I can’t do this to Ron.” She walks back up to her bedroom and shuts the door quietly.
He is left alone once again, to the dying embers and the walls closing in on him.
She cries in her room, now understanding what she is crying for.
Jealousy, it'll tear us all apart.
He walks up the stairs to his room and thinks of how better off she could be without Ron Weasley.
Dreaming
He turns over in bed, the same nightmare plaguing his thoughts.
He walks into the dark, cavernous, lair of Voldemort and his followers. He is shoved into the main cavern, where the Dark Lord himself sits, ready to downcast any Death Eater who is not loyal.
He feels timid, scared that he will suffer the end of one of the unforgivable curses. Though, this is nothing new, he is worried it will be the third and final one. He’d much rather take the Cruciatus for a little longer than his father normally does than be destroyed in an instant flash of green.
“Malfoy, you have failed in your task!” The cold voice of Voldemort shouts.
“No, I allowed the Death Eaters into the school, I weakened everyone,” He strongly replies, surprising himself when his voice is not shaky.
“But you didn’t kill Dumbledore, Snape had to,” Voldemort tells Draco, his voice unforgiving.
“Do what you will,” Draco says, kneeling to the ground, awaiting death.
“You are strong, young Malfoy. I shall give you another chance to prove yourself. Another chance to prove that you are worth the mark on your arm and you are more than your pathetic father,” Voldemort informs Draco, he rises, confused at the notion of forgiveness.
“What is my task?” Draco asks. His voice remains calm and strong.
“You must join the Order and gather information for me,” Voldemort instructs.
“My Lord, I doubt the Order will allow me into their organization,” Draco says standing proud despite the fear in his heart.
“You will find a way or suffer the consequences, with Snape gone we have no one to deliver our information. Return to Hogwarts, join the Order and begin retrieving information. This is your task, now leave.” Draco is dismissed, left to wonder what to do.
He needs time to be forgiven, time to join the Order. Time, it is something nobody ever has enough of.
He wakes from the nightmare, the dream that haunts him. He needs to be trusted but he hadn’t intended on kissing Hermione in an attempt to do so. He knows the real reason behind the kiss; he desperately wants her to be his. No amount of death threats could possible change his feelings.
He wants to join the Order, steal information from Voldemort and continue to help is beloved Hermione and her friends, even Ron, whom he hates for having everything he always dreams of.
Draco lays back down in his bed, sweat disappearing from his brow as his heart rate calms. He sighs, and shuts his eyes once again, begging for a dreamless sleep he knows will not come.
Hermione feels the same way, alone, dreams occupying her racing mind. She silently prays for forgiveness from Ron, she knows he will forgive her no matter what. She debates inside whether or not to tell her boyfriend about the secret kiss, she knows it will only turn into something to be laughed at or cast down upon. She decides not to tell him, it’s for the better.
She takes a deep shuddering breath and closes her eyes. Attempting to fall asleep had never been this hard before.
The next morning, the two heads walk down stairs to the Great Hall alone. They never acknowledge the others presence, though they wish the other to be by their side. Draco sits with the Slytherins while Hermione sits with the Gryffindors, their sides chosen. It seems ironic now, they sit on opposite sides of the Great Hall, and they stand on opposite sides of the war.
Draco eats silently, ignoring his friends for the thousandth time. He does not care for their conversation. He doesn’t understand how they can be so ignorant, so self-centered, but he realizes, he was once that way and he can no longer complain.
Hermione feels his eyes bore into her, the blue-gray stare she knows is tearing into her soul. She turns around to return the stare, her hazel brown eyes settling on his blue-gray ones. Their eyes see the truth behind each others soul, and for a brief moment they understand one another.
Hermione breaks the gaze once again and she returns to her plate of half-eaten food she is no longer hungry for. Her friends are destroying the Horcruxes, Ginny being the last person left and the only one at the table to notice the stare.
Ginny smiles, Hermione never sees it.
Hermione writes letters to Ron and he writes back with as much eager anticipation as she does. Everyday they write, patiently waiting for their reunion. The owls fly in, delivering mail, Hermione receives her letter and Draco receives one he wishes he could send back.
He opens the letter with the Malfoy seal on it, reading the few words his father has written from Azkaban, a letter sent in secret as no mail is given to the prisoners.
Draco,
I have been informed of your task. Do not screw this one up like last time, you did not reflect well on the family. Hurry along and get it done so you can take your rightful place as one of Voldemort’s followers.
Lucius
Draco’s features contort into one of pure anger and raw hatred. He crumbles up the letter and a few of his friends ask what is wrong. He does not answer their questions; he only walks away from the table and out of the great hall.
Hermione reads the letter from Ron, it does not give away their location or anything of major importance. She sighs and folds the letter after reading it a second time. She pockets the folded paper and writes a quick reply on a clean sheet. She hands the sheet to the waiting owl and it flies off, back to Ron and Harry.
She turns around to watch the owl but something else catches her eyes, Draco is leaving the Great Hall. She stands from her place and makes a quick excuse, exiting the hall behind a group of Ravenclaws.
The autumn breeze catches around his pants as he walks. He isn’t wearing his school robes today and he looks surprisingly approachable in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. The sneakers crunch on the fallen and dry leaves as he walks towards the lake. He takes a deep, calming breath as he sits at the water’s edge; a fair distance away, but he can still look out at the lake. He hears more crunching leaves but he doesn’t turn around to the person approaching.
Hermione walks across the lawn, her feet breaking the already brittle leaves. She tries to keep quiet in her approach, but she knows it is useless. It seems today everyone is wearing muggle clothes. A trip to Hogsmeade was scheduled, but Hermione had chosen not to go. She is one of the few students who will not be going, aside from the first and second years. The students exit Hogwarts, walking to Hogsmeade and Hermione realizes, she is alone with Draco once again.
She stands behind him, waiting for him to acknowledge her. He never turns around; he keeps staring at the lake. She gives up on waiting and sits beside him, nobody around to see the two.
“Are we ever going to talk about what happened?” She asks, though she has a vague idea of what the answer will be.
“Why should we? You have Ron and I have my stupid mission,” He tells her, admitting too much.
“What mission?” The information savvy side of Hermione Granger kicks in.
“None of your business, Granger,” He uses her last name in his reply. He hurts her more than he ever has before.
“Fine,” Her reply is shaky.
Draco takes the crumbled piece of paper and chucks it into the lake water, he watches it sink into the murky depths, never to be seen again.
“What was that?” Hermione asks, her eyes pinned to the lake.
A long moment of silence passes and Hermione thinks she will never get the truth from Draco Malfoy.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” She says as she rises from her sitting position. She begins to walk away and Draco clears his throat, she turns around.
“A letter from my father,” Draco tells her the truth.
Hermione is satisfied with this confession and she walks back towards the castle. Honesty is all she asks for from him, he would be a better understood person if he was only honest. She sighs as she takes one last glimpse of him before walking inside.
Draco stays out in the cold for a little while, winter is on their heels and he knows it. He sighs and stands, frost beginning to bite bitterly at his limbs. He slowly walks back to the school, preparing himself for a confession he needs to give to someone special.
Confessing
She says the password quickly and walks into their common room. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She is so confused and so exhausted from thinking.
How could things turn out like this? How could she actually have followed Draco Malfoy to the lake? How come he makes her heart race every time she lays eyes on him? Why is she losing everything she’s worked so hard to gain?
The questions run through her mind like a runner desperate to finish the race on top. She hates the way she feels. She can’t even believe Draco admitted the truth to her. She laughs quietly as she thinks about the irony. Draco Malfoy told the truth to Hermione Granger. Draco Malfoy kissed Hermione Granger and she was the one to pull away. She laughs again, this one slightly louder than before. She quiets down as she hears the portrait open.
He walks into the common room and sees her standing in the center of the floor. She is very much in the same spot she was on the night he took a chance. He holds his breath as he looks at her. He’s scared to say anything that will break the silence in the room. He feels the tension, knows it will shatter like glass, but he doesn’t want to be the one to break it.
“Hi, Draco,” Hermione says. She breaks the tension and allows the glass to break into a million pieces.
He breathes deeply before he replies, “I have to tell you something.” He has rehearsed this over and over since she left. He knows what to say and how she will reply. All he needs to do is say the words and voice his meaning; make her understand.
“What?” She asks. He smiles, knowing her all too well.
“Have a seat,” He tells her, placing gentle hands on her shoulders and pushing her lightly down onto the couch. She doesn’t complain, only sighs as if she knows just what is going to happen.
“What’s wrong?” She asks, her tone of voice screams concern.
“Nothing, I just…I need to tell you the truth,” He stutters. He realizes he is less prepared than previously thought.
“What?” Hermione is confused.
“Hermione, please, just listen to me,” Draco tells her, his voice aching with a plea only she can hear.
“Alright.” She answers his plea and unknowingly takes the weight off of his shoulders; he has the strength to continue.
“I was ordered by Voldemort to join the Order and collect information,” He says, feeling that it was easier than he previously thought.
“I knew you were a death eater. You never change, Malfoy!” Hermione shouts, thinking he is only telling her this to get the information he needs.
“No! Hermione, I don’t want to be a death eater,” Draco tries to explain to her.
“Don’t lie to me,” Hermione whispers sadly.
“I’m not lying!” Draco shouts, becoming angry at the accusation.
“You need information and you think ‘Hey, I’ll kiss the mudblood and get what I need then move on,’ Hermione says, creating her own thoughts that he would never dare to think.
“Hermione, if I don’t get the information I’ll die!” She stops her rant after he shouts at her, then he continues, “I just need some help.”
“You don’t want to be a death eater?” Hermione asks, awaiting his answer.
“No,” Draco answers, “And I kissed you because I wanted to,” he adds.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think it’s going to happen again,” Hermione says smartly and Draco smirks.
“Stop that,” She teases.
“What?” He returns with equal teasing in his voice.
“That,” She tells him, and she smiles despite their previous argument.
“Can you help me?” His smirk fades.
“I’ll try,” She promises and her smile fades as well.
“I’ll see you later,” He tells her, leaving the common room for a walk. He needs to clear his head and he thinks Hermione does as well.
“Draco.” He stops as her voice breaks the terse silence.
He turns around and notices she is closer than when he turned around the first time.
“Here, it’s cold,” She says quietly, masking the intensity between them with a shy sentence as she hands him his cloak.
“Thanks,” He tells her as he leaves the head’s common room.
She watches the portrait close behind him and wonders if their relationship will amount to more than the awkward friendship they seem to have stumbled into.
Ron's Jealousy
For weeks they have kept up the new friendship. Weeks that had been more memorable than anything either one of them has ever experienced. The friendship is not public and only shy smiles and quick ‘hello’s’ are exchanged. No one notices the change, no one except for Ron.
He reads the letters she sends to them with more glee and more joy than any child to receive the greatest gift on Christmas. He notices how her handwriting shifts from the loving loops to the quick scribbles as if she’s late for something.
She’s never late, she never hurries, and she’s always on time. He realizes now, something is different but he doesn’t know quite what.
It is only a week later that he returns to Hogwarts, without Harry and Ron does not know whether or not the rest of the mission is going well. They have destroyed all but one of the remaining horcruxes. The last one, they have no idea where it is and Ron had needed to leave; Harry understood.
Hermione is shocked and excited when Ron returns. Ron, however, knows what has caused Hermione’s change.
He watches their smiles. He sees their eyes lock every so often in class when both of them are bored. He knows something is happening between them.
Ron feels the sharp burning in his chest he has only ever felt once. Jealousy. It is a force that can drive the nicest man mad. Ron was nice, but he could only be nice for so long before the dark force took hold as it was already beginning to do so.
There is only one time in the day where all three have the same class together. Four, if you count Harry, who had returned not two days after Ron.
Harry does not notice anything anymore. He is concerned about something. The growing threat perhaps, the fact that he knows what he has to do and his friends will never know. He won’t let them in. He can’t let them know what he has to do.
He knows where and what the last horcrux is, he just doesn’t know what he’s going to do about it. He needs to make a choice and that is harder for him than anything else he has ever had to do.
After class has ended, Hermione tells Ron she needs to stay for a few minutes. Ron, however, does not believe her and he starts an argument he wholly intended on starting.
“What? Hermione, I haven’t seen you in months, can’t we just spend a little bit of time together?” Ron asks, frustrated with his feelings and the fact he knows there’s someone else she’s thinking about. Someone she shares a room with.
“I’m sorry, Ron. I have to stay after for a few minutes. I have to ask the Professor about one of my essays,” She tells him in a convincing, unwavering tone.
“Fine. I guess I’ll see you later, then.” Ron storms off to Hermione shouting after him and telling him to calm down. He settles down a bit when he sees Draco walking away from the room and not staying inside.
Ron turns his back and doesn’t notice Draco step back inside. The school day is over and no one will know.
Hermione leaves the classroom a few minutes later to meet Draco in the hall.
“Hi,” She greets him quietly almost solemnly.
Draco says nothing, he just nods in acknowledgement. She walks ahead a few steps before he begins to walk behind her. They allow a few to people pass between them and nobody notices a thing. They don’t even notice when Hermione enters the common room and exactly thirty seconds later, so does Draco.
This is how they keep it a secret, a friendship that no one would understand.
Now Draco can talk to her, but she is frustrated.
“Hermione, are you alright?” He asks; his genuine concern for her defeats the darkness he has to do in order to keep his life.
“No, I’m not. I can’t keep doing this to Ron. I can’t blow him off every time he wants to talk to me. I’m sorry, but I can’t be friends with you,” Hermione says her speech quietly and loudly at the same time. She causes him to jump and she breaks his heart in every word.
“Good, because we’re not friends,” Draco tells her this information with a smirk on his face the entire time.
“What?” Hermione is confused and she feels a greater hurt than she ever felt from any one of his insults.
“We’re more than that,” He informs her before quickly pulling her body close to his and kissing her with a force no one could manage but him. She kisses him back hungrily wanting more and more of him but never getting enough.
The kissing leads to touching and he holds her close while she has both of her hands on his chest. They move their hands, exploring each other but never going any farther.
But they end up going farther than they intend. And one by one they lose an item of clothing around the common room and up the stairs before they end up in his bed.
They break the kisses for air but that is all. They go through the motions and even when they have finished they lay in each other’s arms, exhausted and realizing this is the end of their friendship but the beginning of something more. It is the beginning of something far more painful, terrible, and fantastic at the same time. It is defined by a simple term, an affair; a love affair.
Tangled amongst the sheets and each other, they fall asleep and they never go down to the Great Hall for dinner.
Ron feels the jealousy once more as he realizes she is not coming. This is nothing new and he thinks maybe she’s studying, but something inside him tells him she isn’t. This is the gasoline that fuels the fire; this is what fuels his jealousy.
Title: This Too Shall Pass
Author: CharmedGirl36
Rating: M
Warnings: Strong Language (later chapters), Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Strong Violence (later), Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme, Contains Spoilers, Substance Abuse/Use (again a later warning)
Setting: Hogwarts
Pairings: Draco/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione
Summary: An affair. Something more dangerous and more heartbreaking than any growing darkness that could overcome them.
Disclaimer: I don't own it.
Longing
He sits alone at his table, watching, wishing he could sit with her and soak up the good times with her; but he can't. His friends are only temporary, they have no real meaning to him. They are nothing like her. They can't compare to her, can't compete with her kindness and graceful movement. His friends are sluggish, grimy. . .Slytherin.
Secretly he wishes he could be Ron Weasley for a day, if only to truly understand the meaning of family and love, but he will never get his wish. He will never have her, never touch her, never have her return his own feelings. It is impossible, and he knows it.
Maybe things would have been different had he not been so rude to her when they met, but he was different then. He was being controlled and had no real thoughts of his own. Things had changed now, slowly but surely. He understands how vain itis to only associate with other purebloods. It is an unecessary and completely stupid thing to do, not to mention it is childish.
He had changed but she would never know. She could never see the Draco behind the Malfoy. One day he will greet her with a 'Hello Hermione.' instead of a 'Go to hell, mudblood.' She won't understand that he is different, she will only remember him as the rude, smirking, pureblood Malfoy he used to be. Proud as he was, he will never be proud of his name again.
He longs for her prescence next to him. If only to have her smile at him in the hallway, he would be grateful for anything. Everytime he looks at her, he longs for her more and more. Then he can only think, she will never be his. She already belongs to Ron, for he was nice to her and was there for her; he always has been.
He is happy for her, happy that she can find her own happiness; but he also feels the sting of jealousy, because she is with Ron and not himself.
The enchanted ceiling above him swirls with grey clouds, as if emulating his feelings. He thinks maybe someday she will realize how much he truly cared for her. He wouldn't have bothered to torture her all these years if he didn't have some hidden feeling for her. As truly hurtful his words were, he realizes he always felt for her. Always hated the appearances he had to keep. He wears a mask for the world and no one ever sees the real Draco Malfoy.
Hermione Granger would never see the real Draco Malfoy and that hurts him the most. She would never love him as much as he loves her. They never were and never would be.
He feels a salty tear fall from one of his eyes. He turns away from the table, away from his view of her and wipes the tear away with his sleeve. The students file out of the great hall, he has to go to class now. He only ever sees her in one other class besides meal times. Perhaps, he muses, today may be the day when he finally says 'hello'. She may not take to well to the sudden change in his personality but he doesn't care.
On his way to class he bumps into her. He catches her scent as the two fall to the ground, one on top of the other. He wants to stay that way forever, but his friends are with him and he needs to keep up appearances, if only for his father's sake. For how much he hated the man, he was still his father and that would unfortunately never change.
He feels a smile start to form but he turns it around into the infamous Malfoy smirk. He stands but does not help her up, as much as he wants to. It pains him to do this, but he can't let the other Slytherins know his true feelings. Even if he doesn't care what they think. They might hurt her, and he couldn't have that. He is admired and knows how they would take to his sudden turn around.
So he silently prays for forgiveness as he picks up his books and watches with glaring and longing eyes as she does the same.
"Watch where you're going, mudblood. Next time I may not be so forgiving," He lies in what sounds spiteful but is really his jealously bottled up into one sentence.
He would always forgive her. In fact, he hopes, she falls onto him more often. Maybe one day, she would understand why he's done the things he's done. Maybe. . .it seems like a far away word, almost unreachable, almost.
He watches her leave in a huff as he walks with his "group". He feels a sting in his heart for causing her pain. He hates himself, but he loves her. He always would.
Desiring
She patiently sits at her desk in the front of the classroom. She takes notes so she can remember everything she’s learned for the day. Always the bookworm, always the brains in a situation, she accepts that titles and actually enjoys it. She scribbles another note down and feels eyes on her.
The eyes she knows are staring her down, she doesn’t want to look back and face the silent stare she is getting. She doesn’t want to know who the eyes belong to. She has a good thing with Ron and doesn’t want to ruin it, even though a simple glance backwards could do little to ruin a well established relationship.
Before she gives in to the desire to look behind her, she drops her pencil and needs to pick it up. This seems to be the perfect ploy, even if it was a complete accident. She stands from her seat and turns around to lean down and pick up her pencil. When she looks up her eyes meet the ones that were staring at her.
She wants to shout some foul swear word, wants to scream something awful at the one staring. She wants to tell him to leave her alone and stop tormenting her. She wants to tell him to stop occupying her thoughts, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t tell Draco Malfoy to stop staring at her because some small part of her wants him to keep staring and enjoys the attention.
His glare was so full of need, so full of raw want that she understands without saying a word to him. She understands wanting someone you cannot have, for she wants him just as badly as he wants her. If only for one night, just so she can shed the image she built for herself and he can shed his own. They could be each other’s salvation; in one momentous moment when they are one and belong to the one they secretly desire the most.
She pretends to pay attention to the teacher, but her thoughts are someplace else. She feels the staring continue but it doesn’t bother her so much now. She enjoys the attention he is giving her, even if it is a little unnerving to those around him or her. They just don’t understand how the two have affected each other’s lives.
She writes a note to herself, a reminder if you will. She writes Ron’s name and encircles it with a heart. This little note to self to remind her who she belongs to and what she could never do. She could never cheat, never lie, as intriguing as it is to have a secret relationship, she cannot imagine hurting someone she cares for so much.
Yet, she enjoys being needed, being wanted. Ron is someone who would never express himself in a glance, something hidden deep within him that can be shown through one stare. Ron has had no real pain, at least not the emotional trauma she knows Draco has experienced. There aren’t so many layers to Ron as there is Draco.
She can’t even believe she is comparing the two, she writes another note to herself. This one tells her to stay calm and get over it. The person sitting next to her doesn’t notice the inner turmoil going through her mind. She finally comes to the calm before the storm and feels content in what her mind has come up with. She needs Ron but she needs Draco too, but she will only stay with one and that person is Ron Weasley. He is her friend, and maybe if Draco hadn’t been so harsh to her, things might have been different.
She realizes even if things had been different, they wouldn’t be the same. She wouldn’t feel so strongly for Draco if he hadn’t been the rude prat he always has been. She wouldn’t have fallen for the sarcastic remarks and domineering demeanor.
Hermione Granger isn’t bothered by the need Draco Malfoy has expressed to her, for she needs him too. In that one moment when their eyes interlocked, she felt a ripple throughout her body, something she never felt before. A searing desperation coursed through her spine and she just wanted to kiss him right then and there.
She attempts to focus on the teacher and sinks back into the lesson. Going back to her daily routine while she tries to block out the new thoughts that ravage her mind about the one called Draco Malfoy. Her enemy. Her desire.
Jealousy
The hallway, a lonely dark place where if you are alone, you know it and you feel it. The walls can so easily close in on you, merging with the darkness to suffocate your being.
He walks alone, down the hallway, late at night. He can not sleep, regardless if she is in the next room, he can’t sleep without her. He needs to feel her presence next to him, needs to be the presence beside her. The hallway is closing in on him, but he doesn’t care. His heart is already encased in the shadows of the school, though he knows he did that to himself.
Earlier in the day, he saw them and his heart burned with jealousy stronger than he had ever felt before. He really has no right to feel jealous, he knows that, he accepts that, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling jealous whenever he sees them together.
He could hurl himself off the roof of the school and end his misery, but what good does that do? He votes against it and walks onward throughout the school. He knows no one is around to catch him out of bed. Even if someone does see him, he can always lie and say he is patrolling, he is after all Head Boy.
He ends his walk through the darkness and heads back to the portrait where his dorm is located. The place he shares with her. It’s almost like a house that they own, though he knows it is anything but. Sometimes he likes to pretend, but that’s only when he is asleep, and sooner or later, dreaming ends.
He walks into the common room and sees her sitting by the fire. Her skin is alight with the flickers of the dying embers. For a minute, he loses his breath and he needs to fight for air. His eyes glimmer with the hope that one day, she might be his. He figures he needs something to keep the light inside of him alive, otherwise the darkness will consume him again.
“Draco,” She says his name with such malice, but there is something else in her tone of voice that he picks up on. A bitter but still wavering tone that lets him know she is scared of something. She’s scared of something she knows is true but can not accept. He knows the feeling and understands the tone better than ever, for he had used it before when tormenting her.
He gives her a nod of recognition and heads for the bathroom. He needs to run a shower for himself, even if it is a bit late. He hadn’t taken one all day, he had woken a little late and couldn’t manage one in the morning.
The warm water soothes his heart, if only for a little while.
She carries herself after him and watches him walk into the bathroom. She sighs and walks into her room. Changing into her pajamas, she wonders why things couldn’t be different.
She hears the bathroom door open and shut, and then hears another door open and shut. She exits her bedroom and heads back down to the common room, going to watch the fire a little bit more.
She sits on the couch and pulls her legs up to her chest. The pajama pants swish with the contact and she feels tears on the verge of falling, yet she doesn’t know why.
She unknowingly lets them fall and begins to weep for something she doesn’t yet comprehend. She hears footsteps behind her and wipes at her eyes furiously, hoping that he doesn’t see her tears.
“Are you alright?” He asks, seeing the redness in her eyes and understanding immediately that she had been crying.
“Why do you care?” She bites back at him, masking the leap in her pulse and the change in her voice at his concern.
“I don’t,” He tells her, sounding like a small boy denying he likes a girl.
“Then why did you ask?” She is standing across from him, a smile toying at her lips. She knows he cares; she feels her pulse quicken even more at the conversation.
He takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. He is closer to her, but not too close for anyone’s comfort.
“You were crying…I had to ask. It’s only polite but I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that,” He says to her, trying to cover up the fact that his heart rate has just jumped twice its normal rhythm.
“You were trying to be polite,” She says. She doesn’t believe that he could truly be civil to anyone but his own kind.
“Yes,” He admits, taking another step towards her.
The blood pounds in her ears as he is now close enough that she feels his breath upon her neck.
“Draco,” She says his name, this time not in spite but as more of a whisper to remind her who he is.
“Hermione,” He says in almost exactly the same tone she used.
He presses his lips hard upon hers, running a hand up to her neck. She returns the kiss with a passion neither one knew existed. His heart feels like it’s going to explode as she wraps her hands around his neck. He places an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him than was previously thought possible.
This is everything he has ever wanted and something she only needs to experience for her little experiment to be complete. She only wants to know what her true feelings for him are; she never intended it to lead to her not ending the kiss automatically.
She breaks off from him, feeling her breath come in pants. She pulls her hands off of him and he lets her go.
“I can’t,” She breathlessly whispers to him, “I can’t do this to Ron.” She walks back up to her bedroom and shuts the door quietly.
He is left alone once again, to the dying embers and the walls closing in on him.
She cries in her room, now understanding what she is crying for.
Jealousy, it'll tear us all apart.
He walks up the stairs to his room and thinks of how better off she could be without Ron Weasley.
Dreaming
He turns over in bed, the same nightmare plaguing his thoughts.
He walks into the dark, cavernous, lair of Voldemort and his followers. He is shoved into the main cavern, where the Dark Lord himself sits, ready to downcast any Death Eater who is not loyal.
He feels timid, scared that he will suffer the end of one of the unforgivable curses. Though, this is nothing new, he is worried it will be the third and final one. He’d much rather take the Cruciatus for a little longer than his father normally does than be destroyed in an instant flash of green.
“Malfoy, you have failed in your task!” The cold voice of Voldemort shouts.
“No, I allowed the Death Eaters into the school, I weakened everyone,” He strongly replies, surprising himself when his voice is not shaky.
“But you didn’t kill Dumbledore, Snape had to,” Voldemort tells Draco, his voice unforgiving.
“Do what you will,” Draco says, kneeling to the ground, awaiting death.
“You are strong, young Malfoy. I shall give you another chance to prove yourself. Another chance to prove that you are worth the mark on your arm and you are more than your pathetic father,” Voldemort informs Draco, he rises, confused at the notion of forgiveness.
“What is my task?” Draco asks. His voice remains calm and strong.
“You must join the Order and gather information for me,” Voldemort instructs.
“My Lord, I doubt the Order will allow me into their organization,” Draco says standing proud despite the fear in his heart.
“You will find a way or suffer the consequences, with Snape gone we have no one to deliver our information. Return to Hogwarts, join the Order and begin retrieving information. This is your task, now leave.” Draco is dismissed, left to wonder what to do.
He needs time to be forgiven, time to join the Order. Time, it is something nobody ever has enough of.
He wakes from the nightmare, the dream that haunts him. He needs to be trusted but he hadn’t intended on kissing Hermione in an attempt to do so. He knows the real reason behind the kiss; he desperately wants her to be his. No amount of death threats could possible change his feelings.
He wants to join the Order, steal information from Voldemort and continue to help is beloved Hermione and her friends, even Ron, whom he hates for having everything he always dreams of.
Draco lays back down in his bed, sweat disappearing from his brow as his heart rate calms. He sighs, and shuts his eyes once again, begging for a dreamless sleep he knows will not come.
Hermione feels the same way, alone, dreams occupying her racing mind. She silently prays for forgiveness from Ron, she knows he will forgive her no matter what. She debates inside whether or not to tell her boyfriend about the secret kiss, she knows it will only turn into something to be laughed at or cast down upon. She decides not to tell him, it’s for the better.
She takes a deep shuddering breath and closes her eyes. Attempting to fall asleep had never been this hard before.
The next morning, the two heads walk down stairs to the Great Hall alone. They never acknowledge the others presence, though they wish the other to be by their side. Draco sits with the Slytherins while Hermione sits with the Gryffindors, their sides chosen. It seems ironic now, they sit on opposite sides of the Great Hall, and they stand on opposite sides of the war.
Draco eats silently, ignoring his friends for the thousandth time. He does not care for their conversation. He doesn’t understand how they can be so ignorant, so self-centered, but he realizes, he was once that way and he can no longer complain.
Hermione feels his eyes bore into her, the blue-gray stare she knows is tearing into her soul. She turns around to return the stare, her hazel brown eyes settling on his blue-gray ones. Their eyes see the truth behind each others soul, and for a brief moment they understand one another.
Hermione breaks the gaze once again and she returns to her plate of half-eaten food she is no longer hungry for. Her friends are destroying the Horcruxes, Ginny being the last person left and the only one at the table to notice the stare.
Ginny smiles, Hermione never sees it.
Hermione writes letters to Ron and he writes back with as much eager anticipation as she does. Everyday they write, patiently waiting for their reunion. The owls fly in, delivering mail, Hermione receives her letter and Draco receives one he wishes he could send back.
He opens the letter with the Malfoy seal on it, reading the few words his father has written from Azkaban, a letter sent in secret as no mail is given to the prisoners.
Draco,
I have been informed of your task. Do not screw this one up like last time, you did not reflect well on the family. Hurry along and get it done so you can take your rightful place as one of Voldemort’s followers.
Lucius
Draco’s features contort into one of pure anger and raw hatred. He crumbles up the letter and a few of his friends ask what is wrong. He does not answer their questions; he only walks away from the table and out of the great hall.
Hermione reads the letter from Ron, it does not give away their location or anything of major importance. She sighs and folds the letter after reading it a second time. She pockets the folded paper and writes a quick reply on a clean sheet. She hands the sheet to the waiting owl and it flies off, back to Ron and Harry.
She turns around to watch the owl but something else catches her eyes, Draco is leaving the Great Hall. She stands from her place and makes a quick excuse, exiting the hall behind a group of Ravenclaws.
The autumn breeze catches around his pants as he walks. He isn’t wearing his school robes today and he looks surprisingly approachable in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. The sneakers crunch on the fallen and dry leaves as he walks towards the lake. He takes a deep, calming breath as he sits at the water’s edge; a fair distance away, but he can still look out at the lake. He hears more crunching leaves but he doesn’t turn around to the person approaching.
Hermione walks across the lawn, her feet breaking the already brittle leaves. She tries to keep quiet in her approach, but she knows it is useless. It seems today everyone is wearing muggle clothes. A trip to Hogsmeade was scheduled, but Hermione had chosen not to go. She is one of the few students who will not be going, aside from the first and second years. The students exit Hogwarts, walking to Hogsmeade and Hermione realizes, she is alone with Draco once again.
She stands behind him, waiting for him to acknowledge her. He never turns around; he keeps staring at the lake. She gives up on waiting and sits beside him, nobody around to see the two.
“Are we ever going to talk about what happened?” She asks, though she has a vague idea of what the answer will be.
“Why should we? You have Ron and I have my stupid mission,” He tells her, admitting too much.
“What mission?” The information savvy side of Hermione Granger kicks in.
“None of your business, Granger,” He uses her last name in his reply. He hurts her more than he ever has before.
“Fine,” Her reply is shaky.
Draco takes the crumbled piece of paper and chucks it into the lake water, he watches it sink into the murky depths, never to be seen again.
“What was that?” Hermione asks, her eyes pinned to the lake.
A long moment of silence passes and Hermione thinks she will never get the truth from Draco Malfoy.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” She says as she rises from her sitting position. She begins to walk away and Draco clears his throat, she turns around.
“A letter from my father,” Draco tells her the truth.
Hermione is satisfied with this confession and she walks back towards the castle. Honesty is all she asks for from him, he would be a better understood person if he was only honest. She sighs as she takes one last glimpse of him before walking inside.
Draco stays out in the cold for a little while, winter is on their heels and he knows it. He sighs and stands, frost beginning to bite bitterly at his limbs. He slowly walks back to the school, preparing himself for a confession he needs to give to someone special.
Confessing
She says the password quickly and walks into their common room. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She is so confused and so exhausted from thinking.
How could things turn out like this? How could she actually have followed Draco Malfoy to the lake? How come he makes her heart race every time she lays eyes on him? Why is she losing everything she’s worked so hard to gain?
The questions run through her mind like a runner desperate to finish the race on top. She hates the way she feels. She can’t even believe Draco admitted the truth to her. She laughs quietly as she thinks about the irony. Draco Malfoy told the truth to Hermione Granger. Draco Malfoy kissed Hermione Granger and she was the one to pull away. She laughs again, this one slightly louder than before. She quiets down as she hears the portrait open.
He walks into the common room and sees her standing in the center of the floor. She is very much in the same spot she was on the night he took a chance. He holds his breath as he looks at her. He’s scared to say anything that will break the silence in the room. He feels the tension, knows it will shatter like glass, but he doesn’t want to be the one to break it.
“Hi, Draco,” Hermione says. She breaks the tension and allows the glass to break into a million pieces.
He breathes deeply before he replies, “I have to tell you something.” He has rehearsed this over and over since she left. He knows what to say and how she will reply. All he needs to do is say the words and voice his meaning; make her understand.
“What?” She asks. He smiles, knowing her all too well.
“Have a seat,” He tells her, placing gentle hands on her shoulders and pushing her lightly down onto the couch. She doesn’t complain, only sighs as if she knows just what is going to happen.
“What’s wrong?” She asks, her tone of voice screams concern.
“Nothing, I just…I need to tell you the truth,” He stutters. He realizes he is less prepared than previously thought.
“What?” Hermione is confused.
“Hermione, please, just listen to me,” Draco tells her, his voice aching with a plea only she can hear.
“Alright.” She answers his plea and unknowingly takes the weight off of his shoulders; he has the strength to continue.
“I was ordered by Voldemort to join the Order and collect information,” He says, feeling that it was easier than he previously thought.
“I knew you were a death eater. You never change, Malfoy!” Hermione shouts, thinking he is only telling her this to get the information he needs.
“No! Hermione, I don’t want to be a death eater,” Draco tries to explain to her.
“Don’t lie to me,” Hermione whispers sadly.
“I’m not lying!” Draco shouts, becoming angry at the accusation.
“You need information and you think ‘Hey, I’ll kiss the mudblood and get what I need then move on,’ Hermione says, creating her own thoughts that he would never dare to think.
“Hermione, if I don’t get the information I’ll die!” She stops her rant after he shouts at her, then he continues, “I just need some help.”
“You don’t want to be a death eater?” Hermione asks, awaiting his answer.
“No,” Draco answers, “And I kissed you because I wanted to,” he adds.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think it’s going to happen again,” Hermione says smartly and Draco smirks.
“Stop that,” She teases.
“What?” He returns with equal teasing in his voice.
“That,” She tells him, and she smiles despite their previous argument.
“Can you help me?” His smirk fades.
“I’ll try,” She promises and her smile fades as well.
“I’ll see you later,” He tells her, leaving the common room for a walk. He needs to clear his head and he thinks Hermione does as well.
“Draco.” He stops as her voice breaks the terse silence.
He turns around and notices she is closer than when he turned around the first time.
“Here, it’s cold,” She says quietly, masking the intensity between them with a shy sentence as she hands him his cloak.
“Thanks,” He tells her as he leaves the head’s common room.
She watches the portrait close behind him and wonders if their relationship will amount to more than the awkward friendship they seem to have stumbled into.
Ron's Jealousy
For weeks they have kept up the new friendship. Weeks that had been more memorable than anything either one of them has ever experienced. The friendship is not public and only shy smiles and quick ‘hello’s’ are exchanged. No one notices the change, no one except for Ron.
He reads the letters she sends to them with more glee and more joy than any child to receive the greatest gift on Christmas. He notices how her handwriting shifts from the loving loops to the quick scribbles as if she’s late for something.
She’s never late, she never hurries, and she’s always on time. He realizes now, something is different but he doesn’t know quite what.
It is only a week later that he returns to Hogwarts, without Harry and Ron does not know whether or not the rest of the mission is going well. They have destroyed all but one of the remaining horcruxes. The last one, they have no idea where it is and Ron had needed to leave; Harry understood.
Hermione is shocked and excited when Ron returns. Ron, however, knows what has caused Hermione’s change.
He watches their smiles. He sees their eyes lock every so often in class when both of them are bored. He knows something is happening between them.
Ron feels the sharp burning in his chest he has only ever felt once. Jealousy. It is a force that can drive the nicest man mad. Ron was nice, but he could only be nice for so long before the dark force took hold as it was already beginning to do so.
There is only one time in the day where all three have the same class together. Four, if you count Harry, who had returned not two days after Ron.
Harry does not notice anything anymore. He is concerned about something. The growing threat perhaps, the fact that he knows what he has to do and his friends will never know. He won’t let them in. He can’t let them know what he has to do.
He knows where and what the last horcrux is, he just doesn’t know what he’s going to do about it. He needs to make a choice and that is harder for him than anything else he has ever had to do.
After class has ended, Hermione tells Ron she needs to stay for a few minutes. Ron, however, does not believe her and he starts an argument he wholly intended on starting.
“What? Hermione, I haven’t seen you in months, can’t we just spend a little bit of time together?” Ron asks, frustrated with his feelings and the fact he knows there’s someone else she’s thinking about. Someone she shares a room with.
“I’m sorry, Ron. I have to stay after for a few minutes. I have to ask the Professor about one of my essays,” She tells him in a convincing, unwavering tone.
“Fine. I guess I’ll see you later, then.” Ron storms off to Hermione shouting after him and telling him to calm down. He settles down a bit when he sees Draco walking away from the room and not staying inside.
Ron turns his back and doesn’t notice Draco step back inside. The school day is over and no one will know.
Hermione leaves the classroom a few minutes later to meet Draco in the hall.
“Hi,” She greets him quietly almost solemnly.
Draco says nothing, he just nods in acknowledgement. She walks ahead a few steps before he begins to walk behind her. They allow a few to people pass between them and nobody notices a thing. They don’t even notice when Hermione enters the common room and exactly thirty seconds later, so does Draco.
This is how they keep it a secret, a friendship that no one would understand.
Now Draco can talk to her, but she is frustrated.
“Hermione, are you alright?” He asks; his genuine concern for her defeats the darkness he has to do in order to keep his life.
“No, I’m not. I can’t keep doing this to Ron. I can’t blow him off every time he wants to talk to me. I’m sorry, but I can’t be friends with you,” Hermione says her speech quietly and loudly at the same time. She causes him to jump and she breaks his heart in every word.
“Good, because we’re not friends,” Draco tells her this information with a smirk on his face the entire time.
“What?” Hermione is confused and she feels a greater hurt than she ever felt from any one of his insults.
“We’re more than that,” He informs her before quickly pulling her body close to his and kissing her with a force no one could manage but him. She kisses him back hungrily wanting more and more of him but never getting enough.
The kissing leads to touching and he holds her close while she has both of her hands on his chest. They move their hands, exploring each other but never going any farther.
But they end up going farther than they intend. And one by one they lose an item of clothing around the common room and up the stairs before they end up in his bed.
They break the kisses for air but that is all. They go through the motions and even when they have finished they lay in each other’s arms, exhausted and realizing this is the end of their friendship but the beginning of something more. It is the beginning of something far more painful, terrible, and fantastic at the same time. It is defined by a simple term, an affair; a love affair.
Tangled amongst the sheets and each other, they fall asleep and they never go down to the Great Hall for dinner.
Ron feels the jealousy once more as he realizes she is not coming. This is nothing new and he thinks maybe she’s studying, but something inside him tells him she isn’t. This is the gasoline that fuels the fire; this is what fuels his jealousy.