Work Text:
She followed him.
She had no idea why, but as soon as she saw him, with wide-opened eyes, filled with fear, when he was looking at Katie like he has seen a ghost, when he turned around and almost ran, wanting to leave the Great Hall as soon as possible – she just knew she had to follow him.
She could feel questioning gazes of her friends on her back, yet she didn't stop, she didn't turn around, didn't even shoot them any glance. Without hesitation she just pressed through the crowd, her gaze never leaving the sight of blonde hair just a few feet away from her.
Was she going mad? Probably. Was she being reckless and crazy? Even more so. Yet the quickened pounding of heart in her chest was the only insurance she needed, the insurance that she was doing the right thing. Taking a deep breath she took a turn left and stopped in her tracks, watching as his tall figure disappeared behind the door leading to the boy's bathroom. That definitely made things more difficult... Hermione bit her lower lip, carefully looking left and then right. But there was not a single soul in sight, not a single person capable of witnessing what she was about to do. She took a deep breath, in this one moment making up her mind and with no hesitation she pushed the door, coming inside. They opened softly, with just a silent, soft creak, a noise that could have been easily missed by human's ear. And as soon as she stepped in she immediately saw him.
She could see his back, when he was leaning against the nearest sink, hands wrapped around the porcelain, arms shaking with effort, almost like they couldn't hold the weight of his body anymore. Hermione took another step and another, coming closer and closer and the nearer she was, the more details she could notice. The way his whole body was shaking, rolled up sleeves showing his pale skin on his slender arms, the way his tie was tossed to the side when he clearly got rid of him in a rush, the way his usually perfectly combed hair was now a mess on his head, each strand sticking into another direction.
And only then, when she took yet another step, Hermione realized that he wasn't shaking because his body was sore or because his muscles were tired. But because he was crying. She stopped in her tracks, drawing in a ragged breath, a strange pain pinching right through her heart at the single realization of that fact.
Him, a boy she has always known as a perfectly composed person, a wizard never showing any of his emotions, well, except of disgust, of course, a person who would never let anyone witness any of his weaknesses was now hiding in the bathroom, unable to contain tears anymore. For a moment Hermione felt like an intruder, unwanted guest who dares to interrupt his intimacy in the rudest way. But just as the thought of leaving crossed her mind, she felt this strange prick of pain inside of her, the one that kept on telling her that she should stay, that she should do something, anything.
“Malfoy...” Her voice was barely a whisper, when she finally spoke his name, almost like she was ashamed of saying it, almost like she was too shy to speak up, to say that one word out loud.
Yet even though it was just a whisper, he heard her, her voice still loud enough to reach his ears and make him turn around abruptly. And as soon as he did, as soon as his eyes met hers, Hermione felt that her heart broke, the one look of his face telling her that she was right about everything. He truly was crying. She could tell that from the watery look of his cold blue eyes, she could tell that from the redness all around them, she could tell from the way his lower lip was trembling. Yet at the same time, she noticed dark shadows under his eyes, the indication of many, too many , sleepless nights and she could bet all of her grades that it wasn't from the nights of study. No. Draco Malfoy was tormented by something else, something that made it unable to rest at nights and something that made him run and hide in this bathroom, finally letting all of the emotions come to the surface. And at that moment she wanted nothing more but to know why so she could help him somehow...
“What the hell do you want, Granger.” It wasn't even a question, it was a cold, snarky remark, when he turned around again, refusing to face her anymore.
“I saw you running here and I thought...”
“You thought what? That it will be nice to see me in this state? That it will give you a subject for gossiping with your pathetic friends? That it will be sooo fucking nice to finally mock me?”
“No... I wanted... I wanted to make sure everything is alright.”
“Alright?” He repeated after her and started to laugh, yet all she could hear was pure bitterness in his voice, when he threw his head back, still laughing. “No, Granger, nothing is alright. Does this satisfy you enough so you would leave me the fuck alone?”
“Malfoy...”
"I don't need anyone's pity." He said, once again turning around, with each sentence, coming closer and closer to her. "I don't need sympathy, I don't need anyone telling me how sorry they are for the bad things happening in my life, I don't need a comforting hand on my shoulder. But most importantly..." He hung his voice for a moment, stopping right in front of her. Hermione had to raise her face to look at him, her eyes still calm and sincere, when her deep brown eyes met with his sight, patiently waiting for him to continue.
For a moment he was tempted to bite his tongue, to stop next words from leaving his mouth. For this one brief second when she looked at him like that, so sincere, so openly, her gaze almost piercing through his soul, he realized that she wasn't pitying him. She was here to offer her support, to show him what sympathy is, to give that helping hand, letting him know that he wasn't alone. And the sincerity of her gaze, the warmth she was offering to him... It was all too much. He knit his eyebrows, knowing that the words forming in his head - no matter how much hurtful, no matter how much false, no matter how much wrong - had to be spoken.
“But most importantly I don't need a pathetic mudblood thinking my life is her damn business.”
Though his face showed no emotions at all, he regretted the words he had spoken, as soon as they left his mouth. He could see the change on her face, the blush disappearing from her cheeks when she suddenly went pale, her lower lip quivering just so barely, when she finally looked down, unable to hold his gaze anymore.
He swallowed, hard, every cell in his body fighting with his brain, when he wanted nothing more but to wrap her in his arms and apologize, tell her that he didn't mean it, take it back, hoping that she will forgive him one more time. Yet... At the same time, he knew that he couldn't do it, no matter how much he wanted.
B ecause it was all for the best, wasn't it?
Feelings were dangerous things. They were making you vulnerable in ways you would never guess. Feelings meant one more person to worry about, one more person to look out for, one more person to occupy your mind when it should become clear and focused on one task only. Friendship was risky enough, but love? Love was for puppies, for children, for mothers, but there was never meant to be any love in his life.
But she had to appear in his life and change it all, huh?
When she approached him after Slughorn's party, it was barely a civil talk between them when she pretty much stalked him across the corridor. Yet, at the same time, it was the first real conversation they had, ever. And this one moment, this one single conversation, the simple raising of her eyebrows, her one look made him realize that they had more in common than he thought than he ever allowed himself to think. Because even though surrounded by friends, she was always different, too ambitious, too smart, muggle-born that became one of the brightest witches of their times.
She was just like him.
Never truly fitting anywhere, always sticking up from the crowd, unable to blend in. So why the hell did it took six whole years to make them realize just how similar they were? This one talk turned into a second one, then another and another, conversations becoming longer, deeper, happening more often until at some point none of them could bear one single day without the other person.
But it couldn't last.
It was just a pretty dream they finally had to wake up from, a reality that was never meant to come true, their worlds too different, too distant, too far from each other to ever make it happen. So no matter how much she wanted to be there for him, no matter how much she tried to help, no matter how sincere and soft her gaze was, waiting for him to open up – he couldn't. And he never will be able to...
Malfoy swallowed hard, turning away from her and went back to the sink, clenching his hands around the edge of it so hard, that his knuckles became white. His whole body was shaking, tears once again threatening of spilling from his eyes, when he refused to look in the mirror in front of him, knowing that he won't be able to stand the sight of her leaving...
The truth was that he was afraid.
Afraid of those strange feelings that appeared whenever she was close to him, afraid of the unwanted thoughts that always swirled around her but most importantly he feared for her. There was no place in his world for a girl like her, no place for an innocence, no room for the light she was bringing into his dark world.
Because what if his next task would be her? What if at some point his father would order him to hurt her? What if she became a target he would have to eliminate to survive? His stomach made a strange leap inside of his body, just at the mere thought of her being hurt. He could not live with himself, knowing that he did anything to hurt her. So it was better to stop, right now, when there was still a way out for him, still an exit he could use before going way in too deep.
But then he suddenly felt it.
Pair of hands, gently moving across his back, oh, so gently, that for a split of a second he had to make sure it wasn't his imagination only. He held his breath, waiting for what will come and soon the same pair of hands slipped across his waist, placing on his stomach, Hermione's arms wrapping around him, tightly enough to not allow him to run away, yet still gently, hugging him for nothing else but comfort. He drew a sharp, ragged breath, the feeling of her body pressed to his back being a completely new feeling, yet the one that was more than welcomed. The grip of his hands around the sink loosened and his arms fell, his back finally relaxing, just so slightly under her soft touch.
His brain was screaming at him to pull back, to push her away, to run as far as he could, far from her, far from his own feelings. And yet every cell in his body was drawn to her, drawn to the warmth of her body, drawn to the comforting feeling of her hug, his arms wanting nothing more but to wrap around her and hug her back, to press his cheek to the top of her head, to grab her and close in his embrace, not wanting to ever let her go.
„What are you doing?” He asked, silently, not thinking about anything else he could do in this situation.
„Hugging you.” She answered simply, her voice muffled when she was still pressed tightly to his back and Draco couldn’t stop his lips from lifting in a smile.
"Well, thank you, Granger, for this enlightening explanation..." He answered, smirking. "But... why?"
Hermione sighed, he could literally feel her whole body rising and then falling against him when she took a deep breath and then slowly let out the air from her lungs before she finally moved her face and he could feel her chin gently pressing into middle of his back.
“Because I saw you here, alone, and… Because you looked like someone who could use a hug…” She whispered, biting her lower lip, clearly embarrassed not only by her own words but also by this whole situation. “Choose one?”
She was met with silence. Hermione swallowed, nervously, the whole idea now not seeming as good as moments ago. Because what the hell was she thinking? Not only did she interrupted his moment alone, not only was she probably the only person who had ever witnessed Draco Malfoy's tears but now she was hugging him, clenching onto him like onto a dear world.
Stupid.
She could feel him take another deep breath and then he straightened his back and in one swift movement he turned around, so now he was facing her. Hermione held her breath, the whole idea seeming more and more stupid. And when she was standing there, unable to decided what the hell she was supposed to do right now, she suddenly felt his hands, reaching out to her, placing on her waist and moving higher, to finally wrap around her body and hug her back, barely, hesitantly, shyly.
“But… why?" He asked once again. "I've never asked you to do that and… Well, we're not exactly on the best terms… You hate me…" He sighed.
"Hate you?" Hermione took a step back, her wide-opened eyes looking at him with shock. "I don't hate you, Malfoy. You just… You were an egoistic prick, annoying and always so proud but… I never hated you." She admitted, corners of her lips lifting in barely a smile. "Especially after last months, I think we are waaaay past being just enemies."
“Geee, Granger, you sure know how to compliment a man and make him feel better.”
“Oh, shut up!” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “I try to be serious here!”
“Okay, okay, sorry!”
“Soo...” She took a deep breath, almost like she was bracing for saying something difficult. “I just want you to know... I am here for you. Whenever you need it.” Her fingers grabbed his shirt a bit stronger, almost like she was afraid he may slip away from her embrace if she won't keep him in one place.
“Granger...”
“I mean it.” Her gaze was serious. “I know that you think it's you against the whole world, that you think you don't deserve any friends, anyone who would care for you... I know you hate being vulnerable, especially in front of others, but... No matter what I wanna be here for you. I am here for you, Draco...” She hesitated, just for a moment, too short to be even noticed, before she climbed onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cheek, in a shy, short kiss.
As soon as she did that, she saw a strange smile appearing on his face, something that started as his signature smirk but quickly turned into something softer, something more sincere.
“What? Why are you smiling like that?” Hermione asked, raising her eyebrow at him, trying to ignore the fact that her cheeks were probably blushing furiously, the fact of kissing him finally hitting her.
“You’ve called me Draco.” He said.
"I..." She started but closed her mouth as soon as they opened. "I... did..." She admitted finally.
“I like the way my name sounds on your lips...” He confessed.
Hermione raised her head and she could see a conflict on his face, the smile from the moment before quickly replaced by something else, almost like there was a battle inside his head, a battle that one part of him was losing and was losing fast.
His eyebrows knitted, in a look that was a weird mixture of sadness and despair, when he reached out to her, his fingers gently touching the skin on her cheek when he brushed away a few curls from her face and tucked them behind her ear. His gaze moved again, across her face, almost like he was trying to memorize every single detail about it, his sight filled with such a longing that it made her breathless for a split of a second.
What the hell was happening to her?
Why was his single touch, his single gaze making her feel things she shouldn't be feeling? Why was every cell in her body wanting more of him, being closer, as close as possible? Why was her heart beating like crazy in her chest, just because of his one single gaze, his blue eyes refusing to look away from her face?
“Thank you... Hermione...” He smiled again, softly, warmly, the gaze moving across her face making her melt.
Her lashes fluttered, when her gaze slipped down, almost against every rational part of her brain, stopping at the height of his mouth, now being closer to her face than ever before.
Would it be so crazy? So bad?
To taste him, just this once? To know how it is to press her lips against his?
To satisfy the hunger that awoke inside her whenever he was close to her?
She blinked, once, twice and her hands moved, higher and higher, moving across his back, until she secured them behind his shoulders, gently, yet firmly, wrapping her hands from behind, almost innocently pressing herself a bit closer to his body. She could feel his fingers dig into the flesh of her hips a bit stronger, almost like he wanted to keep her in this one place, not allowing her to leave his arms, ever. She looked up, with no hesitation anymore looking into his bright eyes, hoping she will find the answer to the question she was silently asking him.
She could feel his chest against hers, raising and falling to the rhythm of his breaths; she could feel his hands, almost hot on her back, when they were gently, yet firmly, pressing her closer; she could felt his heartbeat, right there, against her own heart, both of them beating like crazy. And his face, being closer and closer, his warm breath already tingling her mouth, his eyes refusing to look away, and just when she thought she won't be able to stand the anticipation any longer, he whispered her name and his lips finally touched hers. They were soft when they touched hers for the first time, tasting her mouth, finally learning her taste after such a long time of longing. Her mouth moved against his, eagerly answering his kisses, their lips meeting slowly, again and again, when they were taking their time, tasting, touching, kissing.
But then he suddenly drew back, almost like he realized something and he took a step back, suddenly extremely aware of what has just happened between them.
“I'm sorry...” He whispered. “I...” Before he could let go of her, Hermione grabbed the back of his shirt, pressing him closer and shook her head.
A silent understanding passed between them when with a longing gaze she tried to let him know, that he has nothing to apologize for, that he is more than welcomed to do it, one more time and him, his eyes asking her the question, again and again, not believing that her answer could be yes. He was already opening his mouth, almost like he wanted to say something, or ask something. But then he closed them, determination appearing on his face. He cradled her face into his palms and then he kissed her again and again, unable to satisfy his hunger, unable to stop, wanting to taste only more and more of her. His right hand slipped behind her neck, tangling into her hair when he pulled her closer, his kiss growing hungrier, more desperate when she was answering them with the same eagerness, wanting nothing else but more . Hermione closed her eyes and melted into his arms, consumed by the kiss. She could only give in to all of this, give in to him , her fingers tucked into strands of his hair when she wanted to get rid of every existing space between them. He wanted that moment to last forever, they both wanted it, her body locked in his arms, her hands around his neck and she, warm, soft, melting in his arms, responding to his fervent kisses.
Until they finally parted, breathing heavily, lips swollen from their kisses and their hands, too willing to hold onto each other, their bodies too close to resist yet another embrace, their eyes refusing to look back, almost like hypnotized by each other.
“We should go back.” He said finally, after what felt like eternity.
“I know.” Hermione sighed, reluctantly freeing herself from his embrace. “Will you be okay?”
He smiled, it was this soft sincere smile he rarely showed and the one she loved to see more than anything else.
“Of course I will be.” He ensured her, reaching out to her and once again putting a few strands of her untamed curls behind her ear. “I am always okay. Eventually.”
“But my offer still stands. I am here for you. Whenever you need it.”
“I know. And thank you, Hermione.”
“Always.”
He was watching her, walking away, her hand reaching out for the doorknob, her head turning around, her eyes meeting his one more time, when with one last smile she bid her goodbye.
And then door closed behind her back.
And just like that, she was gone.